#what if we went through unimaginable horrors and came out clutching onto each other as the last anchor in our world | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noxsden · 7 years

Text

Perspective

Another work I got to after being inspired by events yesterday. It’s a bit long so I have it cut to not swamp too much <3. Horror and the like below.

The pumping beats of music swelled into a crescendo about the studio, a slight wiggle to each swath of paint that was put to canvas. Lips curling to the words that came blaring out, upbeat, empowering, not a care in the world. Brown hair tied up into a ponytail, trying to keep the inevitable mess from spreading outside of her clothes and the glasses she wore. Outside the windows was a stark wall of darkness, the rest of the city had long gone to sleep, or in terms of her neighbors, tried to.

She had been pulled awake again that night, inspiration like wildfire to continue work for a collection of commissions. The lens of her glasses glared as she turned her head away from the canvas, brushstrokes still working furiously along the canvas. A knocking sound had taken her away from her comfort zone. Persisting until the knocking turned into jarring slams against the metal, she begrudgingly made her way to the door.

*This is the third time this week that she has gotten up in the middle of the night and started listening to music and woken us all up. And I have had about enough of it, you've seen the work right? It's...*

The muttering died off, a look of nonchalance taking over the group as the artist peered out from behind her door. The first of the neighbors stepping forward, smiling warmly.

"I'm sorry, but we are trying to sleep if you could turn the music down, I'm sure we could all go back there."

A nod given in return, her eyes flicking to the other two neighbors before she shut the door to the muttered semblance of neighborly 'have a good night'.

Turning around and taking a few steps she could hear the voices chastising her again. Putting them behind her, far behind, the music was turned down and she went back to work.

Humming with each stroke, the gradients of curls, curves and flexes of the humanoid shapes she was putting to work. Dark and eerie landscapes brought to life, a flicker of excitement behind the glare in her glasses. The lights in her apartment flicker again, and she hears a crooning voice complimenting her, a silhouette passes by her glasses.

The adjoining neighbors tossed and turned in their beds, each swath of paint like a scratch across their mind. Her humming though low and melodic, seemed to echo into their houses. Surely she hadn't listened to them. Surely she was doing this on purpose. Why else would she draw such things. Edwin and Violet, loners for the most part, they worked and they came home to their uneventful lives. Joined together in only one cause, their disapproval of what their neighbor did.

Tossing the covers off the bed and storming out of the apartment, they found themselves meeting again on the veranda in front of the artist's door. But instead of knocking they proceeded to head downstairs to the last neighbor who was directly below. Pounding on his door the sleepy man stepped out of the cracked doorway with a yawn.

"What is it you two, I had just gotten back to sleep."

"She is at it again Dante, both me and Violet can't sleep. We keep hearing strange noises coming from her place. Music going, all that." Edwin took charge, a bit of a flail to his arms as he tried to alert him, to shake Dante out of his stupor.

"Look, I don't hear anything, if you have a problem go and talk to her and tell her. She is your neighbor. Now, I'm going to bed, I have a big day today."

Dante reached out, patting them both on the shoulders and turned around to enter his apartment. Met with silence as he shut the door behind him, a muttering out before the entry sealed, 'have a good night'. Furious with his lack of a response Edwin turned to Violet. "Guess we are the only ones with any sense of common decency." Marching back upstairs, they found themselves again at the portal to the Artist's domain. It looked the same as any of the others, but they regarded it with a sort of dread reserved for the worst of evils.

"We are going to fix her up good, just wait. Next time she leaves the house." A nod is shared between the two before they leave to return to their separate homes. Climbing into bed they are both wracked with the same pains they had before. Like nails on a chalkboard through their minds. A thumping on the walls by their beds, creaking of steps, a feeling of eyes. Sitting up straight to panting gasps they both looked around their rooms. But they were empty, as they always were.

When sleep finally found them, it only made things worse. Fighting their way through a dark sea of trees, with no one, no thing around them. Barren and empty, haze rolling in around them until it was all they could see. The scratching returned, dizziness and spinning. Disoriented, mouths twisted open into a scream that held no voice behind it, they slammed down into a room. The artist's room, outside the windows held back a writhing mass of shadows. Inside everything was twisted, the silence was deafening. Suddenly, a flash of movement caught their attention. A figure, in the mirror, solidified into a human appearance with no discernible features.

In that silence, it just stared on, observing the two for what seemed like an eternity. Before, it shifted. Twisting it's head, a mouth began to tear it's way along the darkened flesh. Jagged and cruel, filled with teeth. The hands now claws reached out to grab at the enamel border of the mirror, yanking itself through with a chittering echoed roar that woke the two up in a cold sweat. Running to the bathroom to try and calm nerves they both looked at the bathroom mirrors. Finding a single crack up through the middle, and dark trickling stains running down the sinks.

Rushing out, they again met on the veranda, determined that something had to be done. It was clearly her doing, something she was painting had to be the cause for all their dread. Looking to the looming door to the artist, they noticed it was not shut all the way. Violet held a bit of hesitation, looking down toward's Dante's but as Edwin pressed into the darkened interior, she was right behind him. It was their first time inside the apartment, and all they could do was look at everything in disgust. Walking straight back to the studio and looking towards the bedroom door, no sign of movement.

Her current painting was shrouded and still sitting on the easel at the center of the room, the other completed ones around it, in reverence of it's altar like status. Muttering under his breath he yanked the painting free. The painting almost thudding onto the ground as an unexpected heft was behind it. Growling again he looked over to Violet who had found herself transfixed by another painting. Half covered by a sheet, a breeze seemed to come through to make it flicker, revealing more of it. Pulling at a knife in her pocket and flicking it open she approached it. A look of shock on her face as if the painting itself was insulting her.

A whisper flirted by in that stray breeze, Edwin turned around to try and find the source of it. His eyes settling on the mirror, the one that had been shown in the dream. Well, it was a mirror at one point, but the glass was no longer affixed in place. Staring at the empty portal, he could see the claw marks around it. Tucking the painting under his arm he began to head for the door, forgetting momentarily that he had come there with another.

The landscape she looked at, was so twisted, so disturbing, why would someone paint such a thing. Couldn't she tell how it looked, this wasn't how things were supposed to be. Everything should be the same, seen the same. The artist just wanted to make them out to be lesser. That's what it was certainly. The vitriol that spewed from her thoughts grew louder as Violet crept closer, not seeing Edwin turn to leave. She was going to give this bitch a piece of her mind.

The blade worked quickly, slashing through the thick canvas again and again. A fiery glare in her eyes, a sinister smile creeping onto her face. That will surely get the point across. The strewn canvas parted, scraps tumbling down around her. Panting and heaving, Violet dropped the knife to the ground, the gaping void at the center of the canvas shuddered. A glinting eye still intact after her rampage, stared up at the woman. Leaning closer to a particular set of strokes.

Her scream was what made Edwin turn around. No, it was the muffling that followed, the dread and panic that was so tangible like a fog. Turning slowly a dark limb was protruding from the center of the painting. At the other end Violet was gagging as it had filled her mouth. Seconds, minutes, hours, how long did he stare at that sickening sight. Silence broken by an unimaginable snap, the limb pulling back an dragging along with it, Violet's tongue.

A shudder to her form, tears streaming down her face as she tried to reach out towards Edwin. His painting dropped with a loud thud to the ground, the shroud flickering away to reveal some of the painting beneath it. Frozen in fear he seemed only able to reach out towards her to no avail. Pleading as much as she could without the ability to speak coherently. Crawling towards him until the scraps of canvas began wrapping it's way around her ankle. Renewed by the threat of danger she crawled along the floor, until the piercing tug yanked her back. Behind her the void seemed to swirl and contort, drawing up into it the tendon that had been pluck from her body.

Edwin continued to watch in horror as Violet unraveled her way into the clutches of the void. Until nothing was left but the knife and the reformed painting. Shaking his head, Edwin turned to run before he realized he was no longer carrying the painting. Looking down at the bared work. A peculiar marking caught his eye, looking close it all became apparent. The strokes of paint, carving letters into the top corner, not of a signature but to designate the owner. Edwin was scrawled out above, marking the twisted image below as his own. Shaking his head he bolted towards the door.

But he didn't make it far, stopped dead in his drags by a painful earth shattering tug. And just like that he was suspended in air. Unable to turn, just stare forward, the mocking portal just a few steps away, but there would be no reaching him. The limb that stretched out of his painting gave another sharp tug before the extruding spine became a suitable leash. Edwin was dragged back, lost to the world behind the painting without a trace.

Morning came, and with it Dante found his day starting out rather quietly for a change. Walking upstairs seemed to be heralded by a strange sensation. Neither Edwin or Violet were answering and just when he was going to just get on with his life, the artist poked her head out and beckoned him over. Worried that the two had done something stupid he hurried over, stepping into her domain, the similar interior seemed to capture the light well. When he neared the main room he could see on the easel a peculiar painting,

The twisted lines and dark gradients were clear to him. A smile on his face as he nodded to her, all offerings in response were denied. Knowing he was beaten he thanked her again and went to leave. The peculiarly heavy painting tucked under his arm. A breeze crept up and he could swear he heard voices being carried along with them. Swept about the room and across a mirror on the wall, and over the paintings about the rest of the room, ending once he looked back upon the artist. Behind her stood a featureless man, dressed in fine clothes, and a hand upon her shoulder.

Before he could even question it, the figure brought a finger up to his slowly pursing lips. The shushing sound wiped out the voices, and carried the breeze back to him and out the door. His pace was slow as he walked towards the open doorway. He didn't look back, just kept walking. Clutching the painting close until he could hang it in his home as soon as he caught there. Staring at it, finding himself drawn into the curves and lines, gravitating towards the differences. A piece of a new world, from eyes not his own.

#original #writing

11 notes · View notes

pokemonloverlilis123-blog · 7 years

Text

Adventures At The Arctic Ocean

Chapter 1: Realisation

After hours of darkness, the dark, grey clouds finally parted, revealing the beautiful night sky. The raging waves calm. No more lightning or thunder were seen or heard. The twins, who were on a boat, heaved a sigh of relief. They slumped onto the floor, panting heavily. They were extremely exhausted from navigating their boat-dubbed the Stan O' War II-through the huge storm for hours, trying to get away from a creature of unimaginable horror. Stan turned to his twin brother, Ford, who was lying down on the ground despite the fact that it was wet.

"Oi, Pointdexter, did that thing hurt you?" Stan asked worriedly, walking over to Ford.

"No!" Ford answered hastily, groaning in pain when he accidentally moved his arm.

"Seriously, Sixer! I'm a master at lying and a professional conman! You’re a terrible liar! Plus, you didn't hide your pain well enough,” Stan commented, rolling his eyes.

“Fine! I admit defeat! Here,” Ford lamented, sighing as he held his right hand up.

Stan gasped at the sight of his twin brother’s arm. There was a huge, angry wound on Ford’s arm, which oozed blood that stained the remainder of the torn-off sleeve. Ford winced in pain, gritting his teeth as Stan held his arm to observe the injury, although Stan was very gentle.

“How does it feel like?” Stan asked, scowling.

“Like a flaming dagger that stabbed me,” Ford answered softly, resisting the urge to scream in pain.

“Alright, let’s fix you up,” Stan stated, sighing as he helped Ford up.

First, the twins went to the bathroom to wash Ford’s wound with water. Ford hissed as the pain was excruciating. After what seemed like hours of pain, they went down to their cabin, where their bunks were. After getting Ford to sit on the lower bunk, Stan went to get the tings required to treat the nasty wound. It did not take long for Stan to return with the first-aid kit. Sitting down next to Ford on a chair, Stan began to apply some disinfectant on the wound. Ford bit his lip, squeezing his eyes shut as pain shot through his entire body.

“Sixer, what was that thing anyway?” Stan questioned, still applying the disinfectant on Ford’s arm.

“I don’t really know, to be honest. There is a high probability that the creature was a kraken but with those kind of claws, it can’t be anything that I have heard or read of, Stanley,” Ford answered, wishing that the pain would just disappear.

“That beast was huge! Nothing back in Gravity Falls is as big as that thing!” Ford continued, sighing.

“That beast managed to rip off my sleeves, injuring my arm in the process. Funny how the boat and my arm survived. We could have died,” Ford added.

“And… done! I’ve bandaged your arm up as good as new! Probably!” Stan exclaimed after securing the bandages on Ford’s arm.

“Thanks,” Ford muttered, eyeing his bandaged arm.

“Look, I hate to break it to you, Sixer, but I don’t think we’re strong enough to defeat the anomalies and supernatural beings of the Arctic Ocean by ourselves. We need help!” Stan admitted loudly.

“I agree with you, Ley, but who in the whole multiverse could possibly help us? Also, if we don’t hurry, the world could be destroyed!” Ford stated.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two twins as they stared at each other. Ford scratched the back of his neck, looking away. Stan picked up a photo frame from the desk, which was covered with maps and calculations, nearby. He beckoned for Ford to look at the photo. Stan and Ford smiled as they looked at the picture of their great-niece and nephew, Mabel and Dipper. An idea began to form in Stan’s mind and he grinned at Ford.

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Pointdexter?” Stan inquired.

“But it will be an insanely risky move to bring the kids along! I know that the summer break is coming but we can’t just take them away! Anyway, they’ll miss out on their lessons!” Ford protested, frowning.

“Says the Brainiac with twelve PhDs. Besides, we can ask them to join us during the summer break!” Stan pointed out, narrowing his eyes.

“Fine, fine, you got me! But, let’s discuss this tomorrow, okay? It’s time to call it day,” Ford stated, struggling to climb onto his bunk above Stan’s, yawning.

“Yeah, whatever. Goodnight, Sixer,” Stan said, lying down on his bunk, placing his spectacles next to his pillow.

“Good night,” Ford mumbled, drifting off as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Ford was in the Fearamid, held by some blue chains, hanging from the ceiling. Stan was stuck inside a blue pyramid prison near him. Stan was banging on the wall of the prison, screaming. Ford’s heart pounded wildly when he saw the triangle dream demon, Bill Cipher, towering in front of him. Bill cackled loudly as he watched Dipper and Mabel struggle, trying to get out of Bill’s clutch.

“Kids!” Ford screamed, feeling panicky.

“Well, Fordsie! Still not giving me the equation of breaking the barrier preventing me from escaping Gravity Falls and making Weirdmaggedon worldwide? I think I’m going to kill one of these midgets for the heck of it!” Bill threatened.

“Eeny!” Bill Started, flashing Dipper’s zodiac, which was the pine tree, causing the two younger twins to scream.

“Meeny!” Bill exclaimed, flashing, Mabel’s zodiac, which was the shooting star.

“Miny!” Bill shouted, flashing the pine tree symbol before flashing the shooting star, causing Ford to gasp, horrified.

“You!” Bill roared, clicking his fingers.

“And a shooting star falls!” Bill yelled in glee as Mabel fell limp in his hand next to Dipper.

“Oh no! Mabel!” Dipper hollered, terrified.

“No!” Stan howled.

Ford felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He tried to speak but no word came out from his mouth.

“And so did Pine Tree!” Bill sneered and Dipper fell limp in his hand as well.

“Kids! No!” Stan hollered, tears trickling down his cheeks like rivulets.

Ford felt like a knife had stabbed him in the heart. His heart skipped a beat. Mabel and Dipper were dead. Bill dropped the two younger twins, cackling as he grabbed Stan from the prison.

“Still not going to talk, IQ? Then maybe killing your twin will help!” Bill leered.

Ford was scared out of his wits. He flailed wildly in the air, trying to break free.

“Don’t kill him!’ Ford screamed, finally able to speak.

However, Ford was too late.

Stan let out an ear-piercing scream when a huge sharp icicle pierced through him and his heart. Blood oozed out, staining Stan’s clothes. Bill cackled loudly, full of joy.

“Stanley! No!’ Ford hollered, tears trickling down his cheeks.

Ford woke up with a start, screaming. He sat up, banging his head on the top of the bunk. He fumbled to adjust the spectacles on his face, panting. The nightmare felt so real! He messaged the back of his head, moaning.

“Sixer, are you okay up there?” Stan asked, looking up at his brother worriedly.

“I’m fine, Stanley. It’s just a nightmare,” Ford answered, messaging his temples.

“What was it about?” Stan asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Ford mumbled, burying his head in his hands.

“Come on, now. Talking about it can help to make you feel better,” Stan pointed out, causing Ford to sigh.

“It was horrible. I-I-I dreamt that Bill killed you and the kids while I just helplessly looked,” Ford recalled, sobbing.

“Stanford, you know that the accursed dream demon is dead. He can’t harm us anymore. Also, it’s only a nightmare,” Stan stated, beckoning his twin brother to sit beside him.

Ford slowly got down from his bunk, sitting down on the lower bunk next to Stan. Stan did not expect Ford to bury his face in his chest, sobbing. His shoulders shook like a leaf every time he sobbed and tears flowed freely down his cheek like rivulets. Stan quickly overcame his shook over Ford’s abrupt movement and wrapped his arms around Ford, pulling him into a hug.

“It’s okay, Sixer. I’m here for you,” Stan said in a soothing voice, trying to calm Ford down.

“Stanley, I-I-I’m s-sorry for letting Dad k-kick y-y-you o-out of t-the h-house w-when you accidentally broke my P-Perpetual M-M-Motion M-machine! I-I’m s-sorry f-for p-pushing you away! I’m s-sorry for n-not co-contacting you for ten straight years when you needed me the most! I’m s-sorry that I am a-a-a u-useless brother w-who is a s-six f-f-fingered freak!” Ford sobbed, his voice muffled.

“Ford, don’t say that to yourself! I have already forgiven you!” Stan exclaimed.

“I’m sorry for p-p-punching y-you in t-the face when I first came out of the p-portal after y-you s-spent thirty years trying to g-get m-m-me b-back!” Ford hollered.

“Stanford Filbrick Pines! I have already forgiven you!” Stan repeated, rubbing Ford’s back.

The twins sat on the Stan’s bunk for a really long time in silence. Soon, Ford’s sobs wre only hiccups and sniffles as he wiped the tears of his face with his hand.

“Sixer, I know that the kids haven’t hear from us for almost five months now. Why don’t we post a letter to them at the next port? They must be worried,” Stan suggested, wiping the remaining tears on Ford’s face with a handkerchief that seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

“I know it is a terrible and dangerous idea, but let’s ask the kids if they want to join us,” Ford stated, looking at Stan.

“Alright! High-Six?” Stan asked, raising his hand.

“High-Six!” Ford answered, smiling when they gave each other a High-Six.

“Now, get changed, Pointdexter. You didn’t change out of your clothes since yesterday!” Stan commanded.

“Says the guy who hasn’t done so as well!” Ford commented before they burst out laughing as they got up, about to prepare for their journey to their next destination.

-o-o-o-

Mabel reluctantly walked to the front door to pick up the letters they have received. She picked the envelopes and junk mail up, looking at them with a bored expression. It had been a while since her two great-uncles had sent a letter to them and she was hoping that they would soon. But then, an envelope addressed to her and Dipper instantly caught her attention. She squealed in excitement, dropping all the junk mail before bolting upstairs to her and Dipper’s room. In her rush, she bumped into Dipper, who was walking over to the table to charge his handphone.

“Woah! Why are you rushing?” Dipper asked, looking at Mabel curiously.

“Finally, another came!” Mabel gasped, jumping for joy.

“Another what?” Dipper asked, placing his phone on the table.

“Isn’t it obvious? It’s another letter from Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford!” Mabel exclaimed.

“Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s open it!” Dipper stated as he grabbed the envelope from Mabel, opening it.

The letter was written on a crisp, clean paper which was neatly folded. Carefully, Dipper smoothed it out as he sat down next to Mabel on her bed, revealing the message which was definitely written by Ford and Stan:

Dear Dipper and Mabel,

How are you two doing? How was school? We’re sorry for not writing to you for a while now. We have been busy trying to stop the new anomalies that we have encountered on our journey.

After months of being out at sea, Stan and I have decided to pay you a visit on the fifteenth of June for a while to check on how you are doing. We hope that your parents allow it. Now I have some good news and bad news. The bad news is that you are not going to Gravity Falls this summer. But the good news is that Stan and I would like you two to join us on our journey. The last few anomalies that we have encountered at the Arctic Ocean were too powerful for the two of us to handle alone so we are asking that you accompany us.

But be sure to ask your parents first. We do not want them to kill us for bringing you two with us without their knowing. If your parents allow you to go, we will be heading out on the fifteenth of June itself. Remember to pack your things because the journey will be a long and tiring one. But if your parents do not allow you to, we will still visit you but you two would not be following us back to the boat.

Take care of yourselves. We hope to see you soon during our visit!

P.S. Also, if your parents do not allow you to follow us, just tell them that my nerdy bro here has twelve PhDs. I guarantee that it would help! And maybe bribe them with money, too. Do not listen to my brother’s suggestion of using bribery on your parents. Trust me.

Love,

Stanley and Stanford Pines

“Wow! A journey to the Arctic Ocean with Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford! That is so cool!” Dipper exclaimed.

“But will Mum and Dad ever allow it?” Mabel asked worriedly.

“Well I’m sure they will! Let’s try to reason with them. They’ll give in eventually. Like how you convinced them to allow you to keep Waddles,” Dipper reassured.

“Yeah, you’re right. I just have to look at the bright side!” Mabel agreed, grinning.

“Race you downstairs!” Mabel challenged, getting up and bolting out of the room.

“Last one there would be the rotten egg!” Mabel added.

“Hey, no fair!” Dipper yelled, running after his twin only to trip over Waddles, who was sleeping on the floor.

The two twins pushed each other playfully, trying to get to the living room before the other. Despite the fact that the both of them were thirteen, they remained their playful selves, even after nearly a year since their thirteenth birthday. The two, who were distracted, both lost their footing and tumbled down the flight of stairs. They then landed on the ground with aloud thud.

“I’m okay! Also, it’s a tie!” Mabel yelled before the two siblings burst out laughing.

“Wow, finally! After about a year, we are finally see our two grunkles again this Saturday!” Mabel said excitedly.

“Wait, they are coming on the fifteenth of June, which is this Saturday, right?” Dipper asked, shocked.

“Duh! Unless you’re blind or deaf!” Mabel answered, nudging Dipper playfully.

“Wow, Mabel, I think we can make their visit more special because of an occasion that Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford have never celebrated for forty years,” Dipper suggested.

“Oh! I get it!” Mabel gasped, grinning widely.

“You know what this means!” Dipper said.

“It is time for the us to decorate!” the two said in unison.

“What is all this about?” Mrs. Pines asked as she walked by, frowning at Dipper and Mabel.

“Mum! We need to discuss about something with you and Dad!” Mabel screamed.

-0-0-

Cross-posted from Fanfiction.net. Comment to tell me what you think! I do not own Gravity Falls.

#gravity falls #my post #lilis posts #fanfiction #dipper pines #mabel pines #mabel and dipper #arctic ocean #stanley pines #stan o war #stan pines #stanford pines #ford pines #stangst #repost

1 note · View note