Chapter Text
⋅ ─ Chapter 1; Perpetual Motion, and a triangular muse - (Never) Stop Moving…
| Ages; Stanford, 17-19 (changes throughout) - Stanley, 17-19 - Fiddleford, 19 |
| Glass shard High School - Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey |
per·pet·ual mo·tion
[pəˌpɛtʃʊəl ˈməʊʃn] | Perpetual Motion
a state in which movement or action is or appears to be continuous and unceasing:
"The planet is in perpetual motion"
Every year the school conducts a science fair, where students may show off projects to the parents, while students in their final year may be offered to present in front of high-profile collages, and universities across both the state, and country.
This year was the Pines twins’ final year of school, making them eligible to be seen by collages, with Ford hoping to impress the major science schools, such as west tech.
While west tech preformed amazingly as a school, that wasn’t the sole reason for it being in Fords line of sight, for his future. Truthfully, he wanted space form everyone, his father, mother, and now 2 brothers. Especially Stanley, while he did care for his brother the thought of being together constantly for the rest of their lives was a terrifying one.
Ford decided he needed space, to be his own person, and finally feel like he can grow into an actual person - rather than the mess of a freak in a human suit he saw looking in the mirror - an entanglement of nerves connected to a brain that wasn’t truly part of the skin it inhabited… like a fungus had rooted in a human’s body.
In all actuality ford cared very much about his family, especially his brothers, while his care for the rest of the family felt like a bad case of Stockholm syndrome, he felt he actually valued his brothers.
However, it was also apparent that he felt a twinge of envy when it came to Stanley - it seemed existing as a person came easy to him.
The way he spoke, the way he effortlessly made friends, and worst of all the way he was actually comfortable in his own skin, never feeling the need to prove his worth, or even care to let their, farther know he had any. He was content, and it made the green in Fords eyes seem dull compared to his bottled-up, overflowing, amounts he stored away from his twin’s view.
A loud squeak was heard, making all in the room 10 years closer to being deaf than their bodies had already scheduled, “Can the Pines twins please come to the office” the nasally voice of Agatha, the principal’s receptionist, rang out form the speaker. As stan, and Ford both gave each other a weird glance, being used to only Stanley’s name being the one called.
“Alright what’s it now.” Stanley said walking over to the older woman’s desk, a finger twisting in his ear which Ford cringed at…
“Not you”, she says looking up at Stan with narrowed eyes - she turns to ford pointing her pen at him, “Him”
“Me?” This was now confusing, even if Ford was called on occasion it was just to make sure Stanley actually went home, and didn’t end up on another milk carton as a missing persons case; never actually for him.
“Who else, the Jersey devil? Go on” she rolls her eyes, before going back to writing.
“Al-alright, sorry” he blurts out before going into the office, God that lady was scary… and mean.
He was stary eyed when he left the office, Stanley nowhere to be seen with Agatha giving him a huff once he asked… oh well, that didn’t matter right now- he was so close to his dream he could taste it! Finally, he had a ticket out of this shitty town, and this shitty place, he was so happy…
That was it. His project was destroyed, broken, a smoking mess. The west coast representatives had left, telling him to not even bother with collage in general, never mind west coast…
Toffee peanuts.
TOFFEE PEANUTS.
TOFFEE
FUCKING
PEANUTS.
Stanley…
| Ages; Stanford, 18 - Stanley, 18 - |
So, that was it. Stanley was kicked out.
Ford did his best to prevent it, as it was bad enough, he lost his dream - he couldn’t lose his brother too. But his efforts ended in a black eye, a broken wrist, and Stanley STILL being kicked out. All, of course, courtesy of their farther.
But, none of that mattered now…
He was in college (backupsmore - God the name was awful wasn’t it) and had met his new roommate. A skinny southerner with a ridiculous moustache Ford couldn’t help but think was adorable, while still a tad strange. Fiddleford, Fidds for short, was a brilliant mechanic with dreams bigger than the building they were in. Ford saw this as incredible, first a new beginning, now a new friend.
Ford quickly found out Fidds played the Banjo. His favourite band to play was the smiths. A band mostly popular in England, and well most of the UK. Ford was fond of his playing, not for the music itself - he never cared for some guy singing about how awful their life was, and he could barley keep up with his own country’s slang, and phrasing - never mind the British slang used in some of the songs. No, Ford seemed to just be fond of Fidds. The way his face would light up, he enjoyed seeing his friend happy.
The same was said for Fiddleford, although, his fondness seemed to be accompanied by a few realisations, that were less than ideal. He wouldn’t admit it but he seemed a tad too happy to be with Ford. He wasn’t interested in just friendship, longing for more.
(8 months later - Age 19 - only just)
However, far across the planes of existence, through the universal constant and the laws of nature that confined the earth… sat a triangle.
Bill…
The triangular demon was hell bent on watching a new human.
He had carefully selected, and by that he means he saw they had six fingers around 6 months ago and was immediately intrigued…
The scientist, and all-around genius part was just a lucky coincidence. However, he quickly realised the infatuation was a tad more of an admiration. Pyronica, his best friend and favourite henchmaniac, was constantly pointing this out.
(AKA she was teasing him for his crush).
The admiration had him nervous to speak to Ford, worrying it would get in the way.
…But a couple butterfly’s nerves NORMAL EMOTIONS to have towards a human, wasn’t going to get in the way. He quickly possessed a librarian, and slipped Ford the summoning spell in one of his books.
Bill laid on his back, facing up to the stars above; Thinking.
Thinking specifical about a particular human, and how he was going to in act his (now modified) plan.
-- bills super cool plan to take over earth --
Step 1 - get ford to build a portal
(Newly added) Step 2 - get ford on our side
Step 3 - open portal + take over earth (now with ford)
Step 4 - get weird
Bonus step 5. In case we get bored - fuck shit up, form an army, rule the galaxy<3
Note to self: maybe get ford to marry me, he’s pretty…
Bill knew his plan was foul proof but all he had to do was wait. One tiny problem...
WAITING SUCKED ASS!
However, Bill could learn to wait... especially with something so delicate as the human condition.
"I am hungry. I was born hungry... what do I need?"
‘Did you know, lioness’ will eat their own cubs if they fear they are unfit to be mothers. To save the cubs from herself.’
The idea rattled Fords brain intensely. He loved his mother, but every inch of his body ached for the longing for his mother to let him go; killing him. Every bone in his body, every nerve, every droplet of blood, and plasma all ached. Waiting, for the light he saw above him to take him away.
“The stars are beautiful, aren’t they?” his mother’s own voice repeated in his head, softly spoken and calming. Tears welling in his eyes,
“Perfect.” The small voice reply’s, utterly amazed by the sparkling lights filling the sky; Fords own voice. The voice of a small 8-year-old Ford.
He was unable to sleep that night, so he and his mother went up to the roof of their building, she held him close as they stared up at the stars.
‘To save the cubs’
‘save’
Ford longed and wished for his mother to appear, and gently release him from his own body; for his mum. She was all he wanted in the moment. He wanted to die, but only at her hands. He felt selfish for wanting to do it himself; even more so wanting his mother to kill him.
‘Childish’, ‘Weak’ the voice of his farther, now overlapped with his mothers. Echoing in his mind; as the tears began to sting his eyes, he blinked finally allowing them to fall, never realising that he forgot to blink at all before.
The bright dancing lights filled the sky, as he sat atop of his desk, leaning on the window staring up at the moon, as his face was squashed against the window.
He never forgave his mother for not killing him. He never forgave his farther for making him resent his own mother for her lack of infanticidal instincts. He has forgiven Stanley. He will always forgive Stanley. He will never forgive his farther.
His father’s harsh words shook him, and the scars along his body served as a reminder to them.
Admittedly his father wasn’t the one to create the scars. He was. Ford was to blame; he was the one who took the knife out of the kitchen that night. Ford was the one to go into the bathroom, ford was the one to carve his skin, with a broken wrist. He needed to. He couldn’t help it, he needed to, he needed to feel. Just feel. Something…
And now he was sat here with a note in his hands, reading it aloud, waiting.
…
Bill sat as he watched his human sit holding his note. He felt something peculiar, but decided to brush past it. He needed his portal.
He stared at the man, knowing his new found beloved wished death upon himself.
Bill stared at his hands, and as the man laid down to sleep, he didn’t go into his brain. He merely altered his dreams, holding the copious nightmares, and even worse memories at bay, allowing the human to sleep peacefully. His introduction needed work anyways. He just needs to prepare it more. Or at least he told himself that. Really, he was just thinking on how to make ford as comfortable as possible for the meeting…
A human form…
A month, or so, later Ford drifts off into a dreamless sleep as he flickered through consciousness and re-awoke in a strange liminal space, with his body drifting towards a strange yellow light…
The triangular figured turned to face him, in a bright gust of light causing ford to cover his eyes with his fore arm - the triangular, man? Person? Ford was unsure, but he did know that this was no longer a triangular figure, rather an evangelical presence, of a beautiful man…
Long yellow hair, fading into black with layers framing his sharp features that sat in harmony on his dark skin - a gloved hand outstretched as he smiles his fang-like teeth at Ford. A singular, Owl-like eye, as the other remained closed…
“Names Bill, and you’re Stanford Pines, the man who changed the world but I’m getting ahead of ourselves” the man’s one open eye crinkled, as he continued - “tea?” he asks, as a table and two chairs appear form a snap of the man’s fingers… claws? Ford wasn’t sure, he wasn’t even sure he cared…
Bill sat for hours, staring at Ford as he talked about all of his theories and inventions, and how amazing it was that Bill was going to help him. It was adorably stupid in Bills eye.
Technically Ford was the one helping him, Bill wasn’t even lifting a finger, and yet, this man spoke softly with pure excitement, practically glowing, about Bill.
It was a strange feeling; sure, he was used to people talking about him but never in this way. Usually, his name was tied into descriptions of pure horror, nightmares, and pain.
He already seems to love this man; he was absolutely astounded by the feeling as he stares at the adorable science nerd in front of him… he wanted to… like kiss and hold him?
Egh, that fact was so unnatural to the triangular being…
“Oh, sorry. I’ve been talking too much again, haven’t I?... sorry” Fords voice was quiet as he realises how much he was been talking… knowing that no one ever really liked listening to him go on, and on.
“Sixer, can I call you that? I mean it is your most attractive feature… anyways,” Bill clears his throat, as Ford blushed looking down at his feet.
“Six, I’ve been sat here listening to you for what a few hours? I’m not sure time doesn’t work in the mindscape… But, given the opportunity I’d sit here playing chess, or anything for that matter, drinking tea, and listening to you for eternity” he smiled-
The worst part was that was the truth. The feeling was strange, and confused Bill, he never even meant to say all of that ‘emotional’ crap it just came out - like word vomit. the little light in Fords eye as he spoke, the smile, the way he was just comfortable with Bill. It was stupidly endearing, and oh so intoxicating. By the axolotl he wanted to do some heinous things to this man.
Ford gave him a soft smile, and everything Bill was thinking about vanished from his mind…
He was determined to make Ford smile like that always, and for once he meant that in a none threatening way. (Bill may or may not have a history of carving permanent smiles, or frowns into people’s faces if they annoy him slightly. E.g., Laugh at him, or cry too loud. But he meant this in a sweet way so, its ok<3)
“Thank you, my muse” Ford said, making Bill swoon… and so, let the internal screaming commence, he so needed a girl’s night with Pyra just to rant about how stupidly dumb, and idiotic this dumb ugly human is… (affectionate)
A few weeks go by and Ford has a lunch date (platonic, much to Fidds disappointment) with Fiddleford.
During the past few weeks bill has used his body (possessed him) a few times, however Ford of course had no recollection of what Bill did in this time. Bill told him there was a surprise, and he needed a bit of time…
Until now, he found a small box neatly displayed on his bed wrapped in a little bow.
After carefully unwrapping the bow and opening the box he found an adorable button pin, with a triangular symbol with an eye closed placed perfectly in the centre.
The eye blinked open, startling Ford, before he quickly realised it was Bill; remembering Bill telling him how he can see through drawings of himself. Smiling, he placed the pin on his jacket and set out to meet Fiddleford at the café-
Ford walked into the café, straightening his jacket and the pin placed upon it. He waved over at Fidds who was sat by the window looking up and smiling over to Ford.
Fiddleford sat nervously fidgeting with his sleeves, and blushing an unnatural shade of pink.
“Hey, how are you?” he started attempting to make eye contact with ford.
“Good…” ford sat for a moment, looking off to the side, “Sorry I’m bad with eye contact, and thing like that. Heh, my brother always said I had a touch of autism…” he trailed off into thought for a moment thinking on that, remembering his dad’s reaction to this.
“Oh, me too, my Ma always was trying to train it outa me, givin’ me a chocolate when I could tell ‘er the colour of someone’s eyes.” Fidds giggled.
“Oh really? Did it work” ford was genuinely curious about how that would go, wondering if a proper study could be conducted for this. He always had a fascination with sociological theories; however, he enjoyed a… less than ethical side to it.
“Nah, I can only do it when I’m comfortable with people. Heh.” He looked down, sheepishly… trying anything to hint at Ford.
“Oh right, fair enough” and the hint flies right over the man’s head, and making Bill scowl as he watches through the pin… at least he knew Ford didn’t realise (but he did, and oh my, was he the jealous type)
They continue to talk about collage, and their own works. Ford explaining how he has had a recent surge in ‘inspiration’, and is now trying to develop his art skills much to Bills delight, he listened to his human fondly. While Fiddleford talks about his banjo, and the songs he is learning. Much to Bills disappointment… he could play so many instruments- and WAY better than some hillbilly for that matter!
Later, Fiddleford stayed out to go to the library to study while Ford went back to the room. Ford found a letter named to him, he looked over the return address seeing his family home.
A flood of memories rushes back, and without even opening he felt his breath quicken, and his whole-body shake. He sits down on his bed, slumped in the corner leaning up against the wall. As his knees tuck up to his chest he sits staring at his hands, tears welling up in his eyes, as they begin to sting.
…
Suddenly, Ford opens his eyes and he’s sat atop a bed in the mindscape. The velvet sheets, and cloud like mattress calm Fords nerves almost instantaneously, with Bill sat next to him.
“Hey Fordsy, come ’re.” He outstretched his arms, allowing Ford to curl up as he held him. Gently curling his claw like hands through fords hair, kissing his head whispering sweet nothings, as he comforts Fords.
Ford looks up at Bill, he reaches up holding Bills face, kissing him.
They lay together as Bill holds onto Ford onto him, while Ford lays in silent comfort; as the world feels at peace. As Ford drifts off, Bill plants present dreams into his human’s mind.
“Sweet dreams, my star”
…
Fiddleford opens the door, as he looks over at Fords bed. He smiles softly, gently taking off the man’s glasses, placing them down on the desk before draping the blanket over fords curled up body…