#(using the good omens spoilers tag of course huh)

[castieldelamancha]

tell the usa we don't care about the UFOs , those grey little buddies and their flying machines will never be as important as the second season of good omens

[pengychan]

[Good Omens] Come What May, Ch. 4

Summary: While completely improvised, Gabriel’s plan to transfer his memories in the container fly before erasure was rather solid. It came very close to working, too. But ‘close’ was not enough. [SPOILERS FOR SEASON 2] Characters: Gabriel, Beelzebub, Crowley, Aziraphale, Muriel, Michael, Uriel, Saraquael Rating: T   All chapters will be tagged as ‘come what may’ on my blog.

[Back to Prologue]

A/N: Shax and Furfur demanded a role in the story. I could have said no, but I love them both, so here we are.

***

“Beelzebub speaking. What do you want?”

“Lord Beelzebub. This is Archangel Uriel. I am calling on behalf of--”

“So, are you the Supreme Archangel now?”

Not if Michael has a say in it, was the first thing Uriel thought, but of course that was not a viable response. First of all, it would disclose information to the Enemy that they certainly did not need to know; secondly, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Thirdly… well, same point as the first. 

Michael was obviously poised to try and snatch the position even though the Metatron had given no indication who it should go to, and Uriel couldn't pretend she agreed - and aggravating as she found the situation, she knew better than giving hellish royalty any inkling of the friction going in Heaven. Demons would smell blood in the water, much like… huh. There was some kind of beast on Earth that was known for smelling blood in the water. Turtles, maybe? Uriel was approximately eighty-seven percent sure it was turtles. Maybe she’d check later. But right now, there were other priorities. “No,” she finally said. “I am not the Supreme Archangel.”

“Then save both of our time. I speak with the Supreme Archangel, or no one.”

“The position is currently vacant, as I am certain Michael has informed you--”

“Surely it won’t stay vacant, no?”

“Certainly not. But until that moment comes, both me and Michael are working to fill the role.”

A scoff. “Good luck.”

“Excuse me?”

“Neither of you would cut it. Oh yes, Michael is great at swinging a sword, unless she got rusty, and you’re amazing at making drawings over door frames with pig blood--”

“It was lamb blood, and--”

“Could have been platypus blood for all I care. But neither of you knows how to conduct talks. That’s why neither of you was the first choice for the role.”

Uriel scowled, but forced her voice to remain even. “That’s your opinion and you have every right to be wrong,” she muttered. “Now, I believe the reason why I called should be plain. If Armageddon is to happen--”

“I told Michael she’s too below me to bother. Why would you get a different answer?”

As Michael had said. The scowl on Uriel’s face deepened, and this time her voice betrayed just the smallest hint of annoyance. A mistake, she knew. Beelzebub would pick up on the annoyance like a turtle would pick up blood in the… no, what wasn’t right. It was dolphins, wasn’t it? “Due to the unfortunate absence of a Supreme Archangel at the moment, it seems you have no choice but to hold talks with us. We’re certain you want the War to happen so we can settle the score at least as much as we do, so it would be beneficial for all--”

“Nah.”

“... Nah?”

“Sort your own shit out first. There has always been a Commander of the Heavenly Host, and I will only engage in talks concerning Armageddon with the Commander of the Heavenly Host. So pick one first, and then send them to talk to me.”

“The Metatron has elected not to choose--”

“Well, come up with something,” Beelzebub cut her off, their voice cold. “Talk the giant floating head into choosing. Draw lots. Have an election day. Have a coup if you don’t like the election results, those are always fashionable on Earth. I don’t care what you do, but Armageddon is not happening until we’ve had background talks. And those are only happening with an official Supreme Archangel I can hold to their word.”

“What you’re asking--”

“I am demanding. Now figure it out,” the Lord of the Flies cut her off, and ended the call without another word.

***

“Well. They don’t know we-- fine, Crowley. They don’t know I took Gabriel. They probably haven’t even realized he’s missing yet, with how remote the office was. That’s good news.”

Holding back a sigh of relief, Aziraphale nodded. “That really is good. I mean, low-level scriveners can go… a long time without anyone walking into their office. And there can be long time periods with little to no work coming through. With some luck, they may not realize Gabriel is missing at all for quite a while.”

The notion seemed to make Crowley relax just a little. He crossed his arms, leaning against a bookshelf. “Is that your plan to delay Armageddon? Throwing a fit to talk to a Supreme Archangel they currently don’t have?”

An annoyed buzzing sound. “If you have a better idea, please do let me know,” Beelzebub muttered, tilting back their head. “With Gabriel no longer in control of Heaven and those left in charge pressing for war, delaying is all I can do. They won’t think anything of the fact I’m being difficult, it’s part of my job description.”

“And if they do, as you put it, sort their shit out?” Crowley asked, only for Beelzebub to shrug. 

“We’ll burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“Cross.”

“Huh? Where?” Beelzebub turned, just a touch alarmed - not that crosses could harm demons like they would a literary vampire, but their presence was never a welcome sight regardless, Aziraphale knew. Crowley rolled his eyes.

“No, no crosses, I mean… it’s cross. We burn bridges after we’ve passed them. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“That's what I said.”

“It’s really not--”

“Regardless,” Beelzebub spoke a little more loudly, holding up a hand to silence Crowley, “it will definitely buy us time. If there isn’t some kind of power struggle going on over who is going to take the highest chair available, I’ll throw myself in a vat of holy water.”

That was… not something Aziraphale had trouble picturing, all things considered. A power struggle among Archangels, that was, not Beelzebub throwing themself in a vat of holy water. Having seen first hand what that did to demons, he was not keen to witness it either. “Aren’t you concerned they may suspect you’re purposefully trying to delay things?”

“Doubtful. And even if they do, what are they going to do? Cast me down to Hell?”

“I know it’s not something you wish to concern yourself about at this time, but--”

“You are correct,” Beelzebub cut him off. “Right now, I am concerned about nothing but--”

“Uuugh, my head…”

Three heads and their respective three pairs of eyes turned to the sofa as one, just in time to see Gabriel groaning and sitting up, rubbing his head and tousling his hair in the process. He blinked a couple of times, then turned to look at them. He blinked. Squinted. Blinked again.

Then, he smiled. “Hey! Nice to see you!”

Ah. Aziraphale blinked as well, taken aback. “You… know who we are?”

The smile grew wider, brighter. “I have absolutely no idea,” he replied, chipper as they come. Then his gaze moved from Aziraphale to Crowley and then Beelzebub, and the smile somehow grew larger. That shouldn’t have been physically possible. “Oh! I know you! I drew your face!”

Crowley turned to look at Beelzebub, and his eyebrows went up almost to his hairline when they smiled. “That you did,” they said, and sat on the sofa next to Gabriel, looking at him intently. “And it was a pretty good likeness. You’re really good,” they added, like they didn’t know that all angels, as well as all demons as far as Aziraphale was aware, had the innate ability to draw anything they lay their eyes on in perfect detail. 

Going by the smile on Gabriel’s face, he was ignoring that detail too. Or maybe he really was not aware of it. “Thanks, uh…” A pause, and he looked around. “... Actually, who are you guys? And where am I?”

Well. Those were… loaded questions. Aziraphale hesitated a moment before stepping forward. “May I?” he asked, and Beelzebub briefly glanced at him before nodding. Aziraphale nodded back, and smiled at Gabriel. “You’re on Earth, specifically in my bookshop. My name is Aziraphale, but most people here refer to me as Mr. Fell. This gentleman here,” he added, nodding towards someone who was not a man and was plainly not feeling very gentle either, “is Crowley. And they are - please, do not be alarmed - Beelzebub, Lord of the Flies.”

“Oh,” Gabriel said, and paused for a few moments to take in the information. He was not, apparently, in the slightest alarmed upon being informed he was in the presence of the highest ranking demon in Hell after the Adversary himself. In the end, he shrugged and smiled again. 

“Nice to meet you. My name is Jibreel. I’m a junior recording angel, 38th class.”

Something crossed Beelzebub’s features, which looked something like pain and something like anger, and it was probably both. Gabriel didn’t notice, though, and Aziraphale spoke before they could, crouching in front of him.

“Nice to meet you, Jibreel. So, how long have you been a junior recording angel, precisely?”

“Uh… a few days? But I’m good at it. Muriel says I am.”

A smile. “I am sure you’re amazing at it. But do you recall what you were before, Jibreel?”

A frown creased his brow, and there was a flicker of… something in his eyes. Recognition? No, that was not it. It was more like concern, even fear. Gabriel pulled away just slightly, leaning against the backrest of the sofa, and looked back at Beelzebub,

“Don’t make me do that again,” he blurted out. “It hurts to remember. My head can’t handle it.”

This time, there was more sorrow than rage in Beelzebub’s expression. They had to swallow before they could speak. “... I won’t let anything hurt you,” they said in the end, their voice tight. “Or anyone.”

“... Why would this anyone want to hurt me?”

“Because it’s what happens to those who don’t toe the line,” Crowley spoke, looking at him with a tilt of his head. “You used to take part in the punishing part pretty enthusiastically, if not precisely successfully on one notable occasion.”

“Crowley…”

“Punishing? I don’t recall--”

“Oh, but I do recall well enough for both of u--”

“Crowley,” both Aziraphale and Beelzebub spoke up at the same time, in two vastly different tones, and he trailed off with a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fine, fine. The long and the short of it, Jibreel, is that Heaven took your memories away.”

Gabriel blinked. “Memories? What memories?”

“What do you mean, what memories? Your memories, from before three days ago!”

“But I don’t have any memories from before--”

“Yeah, that’s the point, you know? You don’t have them because they took them.”

“They?”

“Heaven. Archangels, Metatron, God herself, I don’t know. They took your memories.”

“Oh.” Gabriel frowned. “That’s unfortunate.”

“Oh yes, it is. For me especially, since you’re now--”

“I reckon I should go ask to have them back.”

Oh dear. He had not quite grasped the severity of the situation, had he? 

“I… don’t think that’s a viable solution,” Aziraphale spoke up. “They didn’t take your memories by accident, Ga-- Jibreel. They did so on purpose. You really shouldn’t return to Heaven.”

Gabriel looked back at him, utterly baffled. It was almost eerie, how lost he seemed and yet how utterly trusting; at no point, Aziraphale realized, had he even questioned the truth of their statements, or shown any distrust. If they were to tell him the sky outside was a lovely shade of green, he’d probably believe them without question.

“But I am supposed to go back to work. I shouldn’t have left, I told Muriel I’d stay put.”

“Muriel?”

“My superior. They’re 37th class, and really good,” Gabriel, who not long ago wouldn’t have bothered to glance in the general direction of such a low-ranking angel unless he absolutely had to, seemed thoroughly impressed. “They taught me how to record everything and send it to the archive.”

“Well… I am sure that Muriel is lovely, but a 37th class scrivener is not going to be able to protect you from Heaven. They already took your memories, if they decide to do worse--” 

“But why would they do that? Are they mad at me?” Gabriel asked, and Aziraphale was… fairly certain that whether to tell him everything or not was not his choice to make. He cleared his throat, looking at Beelzebub. They hesitated, of course; from what they’d told them, trying to force Gabriel’s to remember had put him in excruciating pain, and they were wary to try again. They seemed concerned that just telling him everything would be too much, too soon.

“... Well, we’re still not sure why they wiped your memory, but they did,” they finally said. “I won’t try to get in your mind again, but it’s really important that you try to remember what you were before becoming a scrivener. Can you do that?”

“I…”

“Not right now, necessarily,” Aziraphale spoke up. “Perhaps it will come back to you in time? Clearly, you do recall some things,” he added, gesturing towards Beelzebub. “Their face, for example,” he added, and Gabriel turned to Beelzebub again. He smiled.

“I like your face,” he informed them. Beelzebub did an impressively bad job at pretending that didn’t please them.

“Thank you,” they said, while a few steps away Crowley rubbed his temples as though to chase away any mental image currently taking residence into his brain. “I like yours, too.”

Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Well-- that’s very-- more to the point, Jibreel, this is a sign not all of your memory is gone. You have met them before, and part of you remembered that.”

“Right,” Gabriel conceded, still looking at Beelzebub, then squinted. “... Unless I miracled you into existence when I drew you?”

“You did not miracle the Grand Duke of Hell into existence,” Crowley informed him. 

Again, ‘Jibreel’ didn’t seem in the slightest concerned upon being reminded who he was sitting on a sofa with. “Maybe that’s why Heaven got mad at me.”

A slight scoff, and Beelzebub’s lips curled in what was almost a smile. “I can assure you, it wasn’t you who created me. We met before. You were… a powerful angel.”

For a few moments, Gabriel stared. His expression was grim, attentive. He worked his jaw a moment, then… he laughed. “Hah! You’re funny!” He turned to Crowley and Aziraphale with another laugh, pointing at Beelzebub. Who was… plainly not used to be laughed at, let alone while also being pointed at. “I like them.”

“But they’re telling the truth,” Aziraphale said, and looked around for a moment. “Here, let me show you something…”

A few strides, and he was picking up one of his copies of the Quran. He flipped through the pages, then walked back to the sofa and handed the book to Gabriel. “Here, this page. The third paragraph. Read - see, Jibreel? That’s your name right there.”

Gabriel seemed baffled - but then again he was baffled by most things - and looked down to read. “Whoever is an enemy to Jibreel, for he brings down the revelation to your heart-- hey! That’s-- is this about me?” he looked up, eyes wide, and looked over at Beelzebub. 

They nodded. “It was you. As I told you, you were pretty important.”

“But I don’t recall--”

“Because they don’t want you to.”

“But why?”

“... We’re going to find out. And get your memories back,” they added, patting the back of Gabriel’s hand. However, this time, Gabriel did not smile. 

“I don’t know if I want them back,” he finally said, causing Beelzebub to freeze and look at him, clearly at a loss for words. Gabriel cleared his throat. “It just… they hurt.”

That was… not a response they had expected, and Aziraphale decided to intervene before those words entirely sank into Beelzebub’s mind. “You don’t need to worry about it right away,” he said instead, more to Beelzebub’s benefit than to Gabriel’s. “You had a lot to process just now, so take a break. Would you like some hot chocolate?”

The offer made Gabriel smile again. “Sure! I love it!” he declared, only to pause. “...I don’t know what that is.”

“Oh! It’s really nice. You drink it. Crowley, would you be so kind?”

“Wha--” some undignified sputtering. “I’m not making him hot chocolate!”

“I’m asking for all of us,” Aziraphale replied, all innocence, only about forty per cent of which was real. It got the frustrated noise to end all frustrated noises out of Crowley, but it also got him out of the room. Aziraphale took advantage of his absence to gesture Beelzebub to come closer; they did, leaving Gabriel on the sofa to look around and comment on how many books Mr. Fell had. 

“I am sure we can get his memories back,” he told Beelzebub, not being sure in the slightest. Their stony expression didn’t give any indication of whether or not they had guessed as much, so he switched tactics. “... He probably just needs time. This must be all very confusing. We should give him time to settle - after all, your miracle ensured he’d be safe here. There is no rush.”

A long breath, and Lord Beelzebub finally nodded, turning to glance at the sofa. Gabriel seemed to have noticed the fly buzzing near the ceiling, and was smiling up at it like one would greet an old friend. The briefest, most tired smile Aziraphale had ever seen made a brief appearance on Beelzebub’s lips.

“... Very well. I have business to tend to, and a too long absence would be noted. I should go. Let’s pretend I have already made my list of threats in case anything happens to him.”

A chuckle. “Of course. He will be safe here.”

As long as Crowley keeps his temper under control, he thought, but of course he knew better than saying as much aloud.

It wasn’t anything Beelzebub was not aware of, anyway.

***

“... It seems we’re at an impasse.”

“We are. With Beelzebub refusing to entertain talks before we choose a Supreme Archangel, we cannot proceed with the war.”

“Unless we simply attack, and Hell either fights or--”

“There are rules for this. You know as well as I do. The Metatron - and by extension, God - would never give approval.”

“We wouldn’t be having this problem if the Metatron had appointed someone as Supreme Archangel.”

“By which you mean you, don’t you, Michael?”

“Uriel, this is not the moment--”

“No, it is not. Well then, you should contact the Metatron now and tell him he must pick someone. I’m certain he’ll love the attempt at forcing his hand.”

Saraquael’s dry comment gained her a long look from both Michael and Uriel, neither of them particularly friendly.

“We didn’t hear you coming in.”

“I’ll rev my engine next time,” Saraquael replied with a tilt of the head, a hand patting the wheelchair which had absolutely no engine at all. “We all know that the Metatron is not going to change his mind and pick someone to replace Gabriel because you ask him to. That, and neither of you is sure they’d like his pick.”

“Thank you for the enlightening input. Anything else?”

“Well. I figure this might be a test?”

A pause. Michael and Uriel exchanged a quick glance, and looked back. “A test?” Uriel repeated, slowly.

“Yes. Maybe he’ll make whoever solves this impasse the next Supreme Archangel.” A pause, then a shrug. “Ah, but what do I know? I’ll leave this one to you to sort out,” Saraquael added, and turned to the door. She really didn’t need to look back to know Michael and Uriel were already pulling out their phones, walking in opposite directions, to make a discreet call that really wouldn’t be all that discreet after all. 

They could be predictable, really. But as long as it got them to do something other than sassing each other across a desk, Saraquael supposed it was something that would be worked with.

***

Hot chocolate. He was making fucking hot chocolate for the Archangel Fucking Gabriel.

The thought alone made him wish he had the foresight to buy some arsenic or cyanide or whatever it was that used to be all the rage a couple of hundred years earlier and sprinkle it in his mug. It would do absolutely nothing to an angel - aside perhaps cause some sort of stomach upset - but oh would it feel cathartic to at least do it. Except that Aziraphale’s kitchen only had boring things in it like cocoa powder, cinnamon and sugar, so there went the idea. At least, Beelzebub was gone when he walked back out with the mugs; one less headache to deal with. 

Three minutes later, with Gabriel making it loudly known how much he was enjoying his first go at hot chocolate, Crowley’s headache was worsening and he'd sincerely rather face the entire Dark Council and possibly Satan himself. That and… and… where had Aziraphale gone?

“Aziraphale?” he called out, and was about to follow up with ‘can I throw him out of the window just once’ when Aziraphale called back, somewhere upstairs. 

“Coming! I was just getting some clothes!”

“... Clothes?”

“Well, he can’t keep wearing that,” Aziraphale’s voice replied, clearly referring to the bland and blindingly white scrivener uniform Gabriel was wearing. “So I’m getting him better clothes.”

“Define better, angel.”

“Not as blinding to look at.”

“All right. I’ll concede that point.”

Gabriel didn’t seem terribly keen to swap his uniform for the clothes Aziraphale offered him - ‘Muriel said I should be proud of it’, apparently - but he was convinced with the argument it would make him less noticeable to humans.

“And besides, things get stained here, and getting stains out of white clothes is a nightmare,” Aziraphale had added.

“Unless you find a demon to miracle stains away for you,” Crowley muttered, and Aziraphale had the galls to grin at him while Gabriel finally took the clothes and changed into them. Right there on the spot. 

“Just for future reference, you need to pass off as human for a bit,” Aziraphale was telling him, handing him the tie on. “And humans usually go somewhere… private… before changing clothes.”

“Oh. What’s somewhere private?”

“Well, it’s… someplace where no one else can come in. You know, a spot all of your own.”

“We don’t have those in Heaven.”

“Ah, quite right. Well, I have one upstairs. Your bedroom, for now.”

“What’s a bedroom?”

“It’s… a room. With a bed in it.”

“Great! What’s a bed?”

“Ah, I think I will just show you, Jibree-- huh. Actually, that’s  a bit of a mouthful, isn’t it?”

Gabriel blinked. “What’s a mouthful?”

“Your name. Jibreel.”

“... Isn’t your name Aziraphale?”

Well, Crowley had to grudgingly admit, point for Gabriel 2.0 and his one brain cell. However, Aziraphale was admirably quick to recover. “That’s why people here call me Mr. Fell. That, and because they think I’m human. And you’re supposed to be incognito here, too, so would you mind terribly if we called you… uh…” His eyes wandered to the closest bookcase, paused on a book. “Jim.”

The being that had once been Archangel Gabriel, the Angel of Revelation, God’s Messenger, Herald of Visions, capable of speaking in all tongues known and unknown plus some Crowley honestly thought he’d made up himself just to look clever, frowned as he tried to focus on pronouncing the incredibly difficult name Aziraphale had just suggested.

“Jim?” he repeated, as though trying out a tongue twister. 

Unfortunately, Aziraphale was too polite to point out how stupid that made him look, and just smiled brightly. “Yes, Jim! Short for James. Or Jibreel. Close enough, no?”

“Jim,” Gabriel repeated, this time surer, and grinned back. “I like it!”

“Brilliant! So, just until you’re able to remember more, you’re Jim, my new assistant. Now, let me show you upstairs…”

As Aziraphale led Gabriel to the room upstairs, Crowley groaned and went to pour himself a glass of something that was most definitely hot chocolate. He downed it in a single gulp and looked up towards the ceiling. It took him only moments to find Beelzebub’s spy fly, and scoffed. “Look, I’m not kicking him into the Thames inside a sack weighted down with bricks, as you can see,” he sneered. “I’m tolerating his presence. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

The fly made a strange motion in mid-air, going down and then back up quickly in something that with some imagination - which Crowley had never lacked - could look like  shrug. 

“Someday you’ll have to tell me what the absolute fuck did make you think the Archangel Fucking Gabriel was worth all this hassle,” Crowley added, only to receive a few brief buzzes in response. Crowley had never been particularly fluent in fly, but he could get the message well enough. None of your damn business.

If only it had stayed none of his business, Crowley thought as the fly then went up the stairs as well, to make sure Gabriel wouldn’t stay out of its sight too long. He watched it go, sighed, and took another shot.

***

What this was all about, Muriel decided, was rescuing Jibreel.

Yes, it was a rescue mission. And also an investigation. A rescue-investigation-mission. They’d find out what had happened to Jibreel, and where he was now, and bring him back to Heaven safe and sound. Easy peasy. No one would even know he had been gone. No reason to get anyone in trouble. 

And of course they would find him, because they had clues. There was a cemetery, and this building called The Resurrectionist, and the face of someone they had never seen before but who was definitely important. And the drawing of a fly, which they guessed was probably not that important but still, a clue. 

It wasn’t a lot to go by, but it was enough to tell Muriel one thing: Jibreel had been on Earth, and at least two of those drawings were of places on Earth. Why had he done that? Was he remembering things? Was he trying to leave them a message? Was it both?

Muriel frowned at the drawings scattered on the desk. Surely, if they found out where on Earth those places were, they’d find more clues. That was how an investigation usually worked. And now that they had the handbook about Earth - fine, maybe a little outdated, but how much could things possibly have changed since 1923? - surely they would find out in no time. If needed, they could ask the locals. They’d go as a human police officer. The handbook said humans talk a lot to police officers. It also said it was a dumb thing to do without a lawyer, whatever that was, but Muriel was still certain it would work.

It has to. I want Jibreel to be back safe. I don’t want anyone to get in trouble. 

For a moment, Muriel considered aborting their plan and turning to the Archangels, after all. They had almost done so, but while on the way to their floor they heard someone muttering that both Archangel Michael and Archangel Uriel were in the most awful mood, and they’d quickly reconsidered. Muriel didn’t want to worsen anyone’s mood, and they were pretty sure telling them that they had lost the angel put under their wing would… likely not improve it, to say the least. And they could be scary when angry.

In the end, they’d decided there was no reason to bother them. They’d go to Earth, follow the clues, find Jibreel, and bring him back before anyone even noticed they were gone. Yes. There. A solid plan.

What could possibly go wrong?

***

“Lord Beelzebub. A word?”

“Any chance that word is going to be ‘take a holiday, we got everything sorted’?”

“That’s several words,” Dagon pointed out. 

“Sharp as always,” Beelzebub muttered, and sat back on their throne with a grunt. “Let’s have several words, then. What is it?”

Dagon cleared her throat. “Well. While you were away conducting dubious business, there has been some… information.”

Beelzebub tilted their head. “Some information,” they repeated, as though they didn’t know what that meant.

“Yes. Whispers, you see, not necessarily something to give credence to, but--”

Oh, for Satan’s sake. They were really, really, really not in the mood to do the usual song and dance alluding at a grapevine that was not supposed to exist. “So, Michael called you,” Beelzebub said, rolling their eyes. Taken aback by the direct statement, Dagon made a choking noise. 

“I mean-- if I had realized whose number it was--”

“Spare me the usual scene, you’ve had her number longer than I did,” Beelzebub huffed, then leaned their head against the backrest of their throne with a thunk. “Let me guess. The call was to whine about how difficult I am being with the Armageddon background talks.”

“Not exactly in those terms, but… yes.”

“Did she mention that they no longer have a Supreme Archangel?”

Dagon nodded. “She said Gabriel was assigned to a different, higher duty.”

Oh, a higher duty, sure. Beelzebub made a mental note to tear out Michael’s throat with their teeth should they get close enough to, and scoffed. “They’re hiding something, surely. The role of Supreme Archangel has never been vacant before. You’ll understand why I am unwilling to entertain background talks with the other side refusing to show their hand.”

“We don’t always show our hand, either.”

“Well, duh. This is Hell. We’re untrustworthy by definition. They’re the ones with the shiny PR about honesty being a virtue, despite being just as rotten as we are. No reason to complain if they’re held to their own standards. And why are they suddenly pressing so hard? It makes me wonder if they know something we don't. Perhaps an advantage they are eager to use against us."

"An... advantage?" Dagon repeated, but the way she narrowed her eyes showed clearly that the argument was working. It was easy, relying on the general and perfectly justified distrust towards Heaven's motive.

"Would explain the sudden rush, no? And I for one I am in no rush to fall into a trap - I'd rather wait for them to show their hand. Besides,” Beelzebub added, leaning forward, elbows on their knees. “I find it insulting.”

“Insulting?”

“They expect us to deal with anything other than the Supreme Archangel. How dare they think so lowly of us? Like we’d lower ourselves to talk with just about anyone? May as well send us a scrivener,” Beelzebub growled, and was pretty satisfied to see Dagon was bristling, too. They’d always known what buttons to press with her. And the rest of the Dark Council, really. 

“Of course. Of course, the insult cannot stand.”

Beelzebub gave a grimace which was a good enough approximation of a smile, flies crawling behind their teeth. “So, there you have it. They either explain what is truly going on, or they choose a new Supreme Archangel to lead the background talks for Armageddon. Let Michael know it won’t be them to dictate the terms.”

Any seeds of doubt Michael may have planted in Dagon’s mind were clearly gone, going by the eager nod he responded with. “At once, my Lord,” she said, and left the throne room. 

Beelzebub groaned, alone once again, and looked up at some of the flies buzzing above their head. “We don’t have a lot of time, do we?” they murmured, and didn’t really need a reply.

***

“... I am really not sure what you expect me to do with this information.”

“You want Armageddon to happen, no? So that we can settle the score once and for all?”

“Of course I do, we all can’t wait to destroy you utterly in battle--”

“And we’re offering you the chance to try. Not that you’ll succeed, but you only get a fair shot at trying once Beelzebub stops dragging their feet for no reason whatsoever.”

Leaning back against his chair, Furfur rolled his eyes and looked at the wall ahead. There was an old poster on it, with the portrait of some poet who’d somehow wandered into Hell before even dying a very long time ago. He had caused quite a bit of ruckus before he’d been kicked back to Earth. Now they had posters about him, with a red cross over his face and the writing Dante Alighieri, Not Allowed right beneath. Although, Furfur was reasonably sure, he had probably been dead for a long time and no longer a threat.

“Lord Beelzebub does nothing for no reason, Ariel.”

“Uriel.”

“My apologies,” Furfur replied, not in the least apologetic. “... Very well. I don’t really know what to do with this information, if it’s true at all--”

“Archangels do not lie, demon.”

“Yes, and the road to Hell is paved with good intentions. Either way, I know someone who might be interested in knowing this. So I’ll pass it along and whatever happens, happens. No guarantees. Have a miserable day,” he added, and ended the call without waiting for a reply.

Archangels, Furfur thought, starting to dial Shax’s number. They’re always so unbearably pretentious.

***

[Back to Chapter 3]

[ladyfl4me]

A,E,F,G,I,J,K,L,M,N,O,P,Q,R,S,T,U,V,W,X,Y,Z ;o

Okay *cracks knuckles* let’s go! F, M, and S have already been taken from this list, so feel free to send in... B, C, D, or H, I guess. Yeehaw. This is really fucking long.

A: How did you come up with the title to [TMWCIFTC]? -- It started, as many things do, as a bad pun. The novel The Spy who Came In from the Cold was a cold-war spy thriller, about a British spy who goes over to East Germany as an apparent defect, except he’s actually there to spread misinformation and fuck shit up. He falls in love, becomes disillusioned with his superiors, and is shot dead over the corpse of his lover after climbing over to the east side of the wall. Needless to say, this is nowhere close to what happens in TMWCIFTC. I chose it early on because of the literal meaning: there’s a moth(man), he’s coming in from the cold WV weather, boom shaka laka, we have a title. Over time, though, it’s evolved into another meaning. Indrid himself is coming in from an isolated, lonely existence: he’s rejoining the family that cut ties with him, he’s in love, he’s warm and safe. The moth sure did come in from the cold, and hopefully he stays that way.

E: If you wrote a sequel to [TMWCIFTC], what would it be about? -- Hm. Considering my entire TAZ fic career is a tangled hairball of sequels and prequels, I kind of have this base covered. At the moment, TCOS - aka The Children of Sylvain, the sequel to TMWCIFTC - is about three things: a Pine Guard road trip race against time and the feds, the Spanish Sylvan Inquisition That Nobody Expected (least of all Jake and Hollis, who have to set aside their differences and past conflicts to save Kepler - and who knows, maybe they’ll fall in love along the way), and Alexandra the Interpreter getting woke to Sylvan politics and doing what she can from the inside to change them. In other words, it’s going to be a massive sequel that is the finale of the Amnesty alternate universe I’ve created. It’s this series’ Endgame. (That reminds me, I need an actual title for this collection of stories I’m writing. The “Tin Cinematic Universe” doesn’t quite have the ring to it that I’d like.)

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order? -- eh, it kind of depends. It’s like a buffering bar on Youtube videos. I outline what I can until I run out of ideas, then start writing, then add outlines to the end, until the outline is complete and I just have to keep writing.

I: Do you have a guilty pleasure in fic (reading or writing)? -- I don’t have one for reading, but for writing, I fucking love structuring chapters around songs. Classical or otherwise, I love music. All my stories play in my head like a movie screen, and I just do my best to describe what I’m seeing in my head with an accompanying score. It’s not so much a guilty pleasure as it is a writing process. Frankly, I don’t think I actually have a guilty pleasure; the act of writing itself is all the happiness I need.

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic]. -- An alternate ending for The Devil Went Down To Georgia would be... interesting. It ended with Boyd-as-Jersey-Devil scaring the pants off some poor broke college kid, who stole his worthless fiddle; then he changed back, and he and Ned went on their merry way to go break into Aubrey’s house and send everything down the drain. If there was one thing that I could change in there, it would be how fast Ned ran. If he ran a little faster, he would have seen the alley; he would have witnessed Boyd turning into the Jersey Devil, or at least turning back into himself; and he’d get a very rude awakening as to what Sylvans are and that his partner (in crime, and everything that mattered) was a fucking cryptid. God, that’d be a fun AU to write. Who knows, I might go do that someday.

K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with? -- At the moment, the only angsty idea that I’m actually conceptualizing is a Hollis/Jake angsty breakup for TSG. (Spoilers, I guess.) I once wrote a very grimdark ending to TMWCIFTC where everyone fell through the ice and drowned. It wasn’t fun. I’ve also mentally killed off each Amnesty protagonist and NPC in various ways, but I never felt comfortable writing them down. I only write angst with a happy ending because those are the kinds of stories I need to hear.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting? -- 9 times out of 10, I just throw it into the void. I write as much as I can in big chunks, and then kind of hope for the best. TMWCIFTC, for example, is a completely unedited, unbetaed vomit draft. I usually do a quick reread of my oneshots to catch grammar and spelling errors, but other than that I just trust myself that it’s fine.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you? -- Can I get some kind of resolution for To the Edge of Night? Can I please get some kind of resolution for To the Edge of Night??? I was 14 chapters into that bastard before I a) became a more casual MCU fan and b) discovered TAZ. It was such a niche fic with such a niche structure - LOTR as galactic Asgardian propaganda to cover up Odin’s mistakes - that at some point I lost interest in it. I just saw Endgame though, so now I might get some inspiration for stuff to bastardize.

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters? -- Characters. When coming up with character backstories, I can usually find ways to slot their lives together that necessitate a plot. I love character-driven stories, where their actions actually do shit and their words actually mean something, in favor of getting dragged along behind the plot like tin cans behind a car.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?) -- I’m definitely an architect, but in a really messy way. My friends can attest that I do an insane amount of planning for each story - often in their DMs, sorry about that, Fae, Cro, Indy and Aline 😬 - and all that usually ends up in a stream-of-consciousness rant outline on Google Drive. Knowing where the story is going helps me a lot, but the planning I do is definitely just building flower beds in which to sow seeds. Or building a greenhouse. I plan the bare bones of a story, and things get really wild within it, but it does follow a logical plot structure.

Q: How do you feel about collaborations? -- I have a lot of respect for the people who can successfully pull it off, but idk if i’d ever want to do one myself. I get really possessive of my stories and ideas and like to be the one in charge of their execution. That being said, some collabs have produced amazing stories. I don’t mind reading collab fics, but actually being in a collab grates on me more than it should.

R: Are there any writers (fanfic or otherwise) you consider an influence? -- I’m definitely influenced heavily by Neil Gaiman. I read American Gods and Good Omens a lot while I was trying to write TMWCIFTC; not only was it a good brain break, but I was able to pick up a lot of tips on scene pacing, concise yet expressive language, and character interactions. My creative wriitng professors have always told us to read so we know what to steal - not in terms of content, but in execution. 

On the fanfic side, @miamaroo is a huge inspiration for me. I’ve been reading Northern Migration a lot recently, and I love how its canon divergence is so worldshaking and so complex, but is still familiar in nostalgic yet terrifying ways. I read it back in October, went, “Huh, I wanna do something that wild. And if miamaroo can do it then I sure as fuck can too,” and I started planning TMWCIFTC during that one month dead zone the McElroys took last year. Northern Migration is one of the best, most coherent, most stunning, and most incredibly written TAZ Balance AUs I’ve ever read, and if I hadn’t read it, I wouldn’t have been inspired to take the fuckall huge plunge into TMWCIFTC.

S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist? -- Bed sharing and cuddling, hand kissing, wrist kissing, whump, sympathetic villains. Canon divergent AUs are my absolute favorite things to both read and write. Anything that would turn me into Charlie Kelly slamming his finger on a bulletin board screaming, “CAROL,” is a fic I would give my life for. 

T: Any fandom tropes you can’t stand? -- Not a fan of a) woobification and b) flat villain characterization, to the point where the story is riding on villain tropes instead of an actual person or plot. Character nuance is always something I look for when I read. I don’t usually get bitter about tropes, though; some stuff, when subverted, works really well. I fully subscribe to don’t like, don’t read, don’t write, which is why I don’t write anything that warrants AO3 content warning tags or an Explicit rating, in favor of focusing on plot. Every author has a reason for what they write and how - be it their level of experience, personal preference, or simply the joy of writing something and getting it out there - and I respect that. Within reason, of course.

U: Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much. -- 

@miamaroo, for reasons I’ve already discussed. My favorite TAZ Balance author hands down. Read Northern Migration and give it the love it deserves, or I’m replacing all the faucets in your house with silly straws.

@transagentstern. Fae has a bunch of absolutely incredible fics and an amazing grasp on characterization. We come from the same place with AUs, in that canon is but the bare planks on which we put the drywall of our plot an characterization. They structure AUs and character backstories from the ground up in believable and emotionally raw ways. Also they have great music taste. I especially like their interpretation of Indrid in Moth to the Flame; he, like all the other characters in the story, is far from perfect, and his character arc is explored in relatable ways that I love to read. 

@keplersheetz. Aline - theneonpineapple on AO3 - researches like a motherfucker and has a wealth of knowledge/experience/viewpoints to draw on, making author-author interactions with her an absolute delight. She’s also doing the lord’s work with rarepairs. Spin a wheel, find a ship, and she’s probably written for it or at least conceptualized it. Reading her character studies and stories of the old Pine Guard - aka Mama’s original crew, before the current PCs joined - is always a delight. I’ve also hashed out a lot of details for The Children of Sylvain, especially for Mr. Boyd Mosche, guilt-wracked Jersey Devil extraordinaire, with her help. 

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose? -- Not gonna lie, I’m fine with a lot of stuff that’s out there right now. It’s been a hot few months since I’ve actually stopped to read fic, but from what I recall, most of the fics I’ve read have done a good job of keeping things intact.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones? -- The vaguer, the better. With really specific prompts, it usually feels as if the story’s been written for me already; with vague, general prompts, I have more agency to explore my own ideas. Some accompanying detail is usually nice, though. For example, the coffee shop/college/flower shop AUs that @transagentstern​ wrote are my ideal prompt for drabbles: premise, a little bit of open-ended detail, clear explanation of what’s going to happen while leaving the rest up to the imagination. Good stuff. If it’s for a long-form piece, though, I prefer full agency, or even just some time to lie facedown in the dirt and wait for an idea to strike me.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer. -- Yes.

Y: A character you want to protect. -- Tim.

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it? Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate? -- I do read lots of major character death, yeah, though not always for TAZ. There’s something cathartic about seeing a character die, but sometimes it sits wrong with me in ways that I don’t like. As for writing, I’d rather kill a character for a reason rather than for shock value/for the Feels, though said Feels can accompany the reason. 

[capricious-passions-blog]

By Word Count

Words, words, words.

moosesmittens

A Grim Night

Yes

688

1

I could care less how short this is. It’s that Grim dog. I’m so glad this was written. Any and all ‘Grim’ fics about Stanley and this dog are blessings in my eyes.

bananabog

Balm

Yes

1,073

1

A one-shot that wasn’t meant to be more unfortunately, but has a very interesting premise about Bill not being gone from Stan’s head.

scribefindegil

Nomenclature

Yes

1,133

1

Haha! - No, I’m sorry. This one. This one is great. Portal Ford.

anonymousAlchemist

our past ghosts always haunting

Yes

1,347

1

Stanley never regains his memories. And it’s okay.

impish_nature

Sleight of Hand

Yes

1,638

1

Oh my gosh - MagicStanley! It’s beautiful.

Neelh

Homologous

Yes

1,642

1

HA! I was wondering what ‘homologous’ even means. And then I saw the author’s note. Read my mind.

Reread it. I have no words. Monster. Angel. Blessing. Curse. How shall I describe this author?

HowAboutThatSnapback

Death Omen, Shmeath Omen

Yes

1,649

1

Just the title. Just the title on it’s own is enough. THAT TITLE.

LogicalBookThief

Stan Protecting his Kids

No -

First Posted

2015-10-29

Last updated

6 Mar 2016

1,670

2 works

First one is Soos’s dad. The second is a tourist and Wendy. I actually thought the Soos and the dad bit was interesting. I never would have thought about it, but yeah. That could go down like that.

Kalajorn (Mortsyn)

The Black Dog

Yes

1,763

1

This one has Stanley befriending the grim because of an accident. It skirts the depressing and jumps into the Stanley is amazing.

impish_nature

Silent Plea

Yes

2,070

1

BlindFaith Au. Stanley helps Stanford with cave flashbacks.

hapful

out

Yes

2,587

1

Amnesia Stanley. Andrew - ANDREW - *he thinks he’s andrew … * I can’t -

Tell_Me_Tales

Math is Money

No?

First Posted

2016-10-22

Last updated

28 Nov 2016

2,622

2

As I recall - this one was actually kind of adorable. Right? I don’t know why it’s marked unfinished unless the Tell_Me_Tales had more in mind. Otherwise it feels like a pretty cohesive pair of one-shots. And Filbrick is … normal.

molossiamerica

2 AM

Yes

3,062

1

In relation to the title. One word. Relatable. But other than that - these two. I tell ya. Sea adventures.

impish_nature

Signs of a Well Lived Life

Yes

3,276

1

JOML AU @notllorstel

More Grim Au. I think they actually die in this one. Quote on Quote “Bittersweet and stuff”

eltigre221

Gravity Falls: Aspects of Stanley

Yes

3,321

1

500 Fords Au. In a hall of Fords, Stanley splits himself into parts of his personality. And Ford has to put that back together.

The_Lionheart

Missing

Yes

4,103

1

How Stan has dentures. A basic recap of when and where he lost most of his teeth WITH CRIPPLING FEELS.

MaryPSue

Now You See

Yes

4,158

1

Stanford never feels like he has to ask for Stanley’s help to come to gravity falls. You can probably guess how well that goes. Cause he finishes the portal but how to keep the world from ending?

thesnadger

It’s A Great Idea (Who Are You To Judge?)

Yes

4,295

1

Relativity Falls. Grauntie Mabel and Grunkle Stan compare lives over drinks. Not the best idea.

impish_nature

Blind Rage

Yes

4,743

1

BlindFaith Au. Stanford goes off on some midnight attackers and Stanley isn’t handling heat of fire too well.

WDW

Estranged, Lost, Found

Yes

5,047

2

This exists. And that is enough. I have no idea how this could have been thought up, but … I rather thought it was okay. You know. Once you get over the Stanley feels. What is it with this man. And my poor heart.

thesnadger

Things You Can’t Take Back

Yes

5,058

1

Stanley in the Colombian forest. But why is Stanford there? Dun, Dun, DUUUN. But no, actually - the feels.

LogicalBookThief

One and a Half Stans Au

Yes

5,092

2 works

De-aged Stanley

impish_nature

Seeing is Believing

Yes

5,136

1

BlindFaith Au. Stanley regains some of his sight

StoneSabre

So the Ocean Soothes Our Scars

No -

First Posted

2016-10-20

Last updated

27 Nov 2016

5,508

2 works

Grunkle Adventures at sea

fex_libris

Darkened Light, Starless Night

No -

First Posted

2016-10-03

Last updated

12 Dec 2016

5,531

2

BlindFaith Au. They get out of the cave, but things aren’t peachy.

Aaronna

With the Help of a Brother

Yes

5,638

3

Amnesiac Stanley. They get to the boat. Sad Ford. With a happy ending.

LogicalBookThief

The Devil You Know

Yes

5,677

2

Possession. Mystery trio. Ford gets possessed before he realizes that’s not a good thing. And Stanley … obviously gets caught in the crosshairs.

Keleficent

Trust Me

Yes

6,528

6

It …

Well anyways. Stan falls into the portal and … just … BADness ensues. Ford gets him out, but … so yeah

Tell_Me_Tales

A Girl Named Carla

Yes

6,569

2

Carla McCorkle meets Stanford and it’s awkward, and funny, and adorable.

impish_nature

Finding the Right Frequency

Yes

6,885

1

Ford, and that radio! Talking over the air! Him and Stanley! It hits the spot.

Nicnac

Five Years Older

No -

First Posted

2016-11-01

Last updated

10 Jan 2017

7,659

3

27 year old Mabel going into the past and finding Mullet Stan. Come on guys. This one is almost mandatory viewing.

Nicnac

Weep Not for the Memories

Yes

7,718

1

Scrapbook doesn’t work. Amnesia Stanley.

TheLazyBAMF (TheGuardian219)

Fixing a Mistake

No -

First Posted

2015-12-13

Last updated

7 Nov 2016

8,334

7

Stanley uses a time wish to go back in time and relive his life so he doesn’t ruin Stanford’s. So … he’s in his kid body with his grumpy grandpa mind, and kid Ford wants to play all the time, but is smart enough to see something’s up. How could you not want this?

SilveryBeing

Key Moments

Yes

8,913

1

Stanford looking into different realities. Seeing the consequences of various actions over the course of his life. Post Weirdmeggedon. It’s good, but also full of Stanford hate propaganda NOPE THAT IS A LIE. Why am I lying like this?

impish_nature

A Lot More Lost

Yes

9,620

1

Feral Ford Au. Stanley Amnesia.

MiniatureGlitterSoul

Searching For Stanford Pines

No -

First Posted

2016-04-17

Last updated

7 Jun 2016

9,805

6

Portal Ford.

thesnadger

Summer’s Over

Yes

10,604

3 works

I’m - no THEY’RE trying to kill you. And I quote “Making Ford Feel Guilty For Fun And Profit; Actually There's No Profit; And No Fun; only pain”

LogicalBookThief

A Pound of Flesh

Yes

10,918

4

I remember this mostly for the Clairvoyant. Post Weirdmeggedon boat adventures.

The_Lionheart

The People That We Always Hoped We Would Be

Yes

11,546

1

Christmas Carol AU where everyone comes back into the past to get Stanford to reconcile with Stanley. Oh my gosh. THIS ONE. That one scene. WITH THE GUN.

Beleriandings

A Tale Of Three Stans

Yes

12,413

1

They’re in iceland. Stanley and Stanford get separated. Until Stanley runs into another portal Ford. This is a really nice read. Short, but not too short. In a fun setting, running around doing interesting stuff. Police get involved to some degree. Otherwise it wouldn’t be Stanley and Stanford.

Nicnac

Lost and Found

Yes

12,687

2 works

Connected to Elementary Falls. “CanonFord!” lands in Elementary Falls universe. It creates TWO happy endings, so plus.

biteinsane

Wearing the Working Man’s Clothes

No -

First Posted

2016-05-11

Last updated

25 May 2017

15,063

7

So it says Tiny Ford Au, and I was thrown off. I thought - the shrink ray stuff. But it’s kid Ford. And Kid Ford’s mind too. So it’s cute! But also - how can Cipher NOT take advantage of that? A One and a Half Stans, with Ford.

WinchesterWarrenSon

Fractured Fingers

No -

First Posted

2015-12-14

Last updated

25 Aug 2016

15,631

15

I shouldn’t like this one so much, but um … I REALLY like this one. Stanley comes to help Stanford in Gravity Falls.

CCs_World

And You Were Not So Old

No -

First Posted

2017-01-01

Last updated

10 Mar 2017

17,629

7

Stan contracts a serious illness and Ford is obviously extremely upsetted (yes I mean upsetted). Guys, right about now I’m banking on the lack of Major Death tag. Also how is this not longer? It feels longer. Huh.

KuroJanKazu

Reminiscence at Sea

No -

First Posted

2016-04-04

Last updated

29 Sep 2016

17,754

7

Reverse Falls. Stanford ends up in reverse falls in one of his trips through the multiverse. And really learns to like … Will Cipher.

runawaycartoonist

Gravity Falls: It’s Relative!

No -

First Posted

2016-05-04

Last updated

20,587

7

Stanley and Stanford go and visit their Great Auntie Mabel for the summer.

pinesinthewoods

Blind Faith

Yes

21,027

4

Stanley and Stanford both land in the portal. Stanley loses his eyes. Blind Faith Au.

Kalajorn (Mortsyn)

And Then There Were Three

No -

First Posted

2016-04-19

Last updated

25 Jun 2016

21,450

12

Mystery Trio.

Vituperative_cupcakes

The Demolition Log of Stanford F. Pines

Yes

22,280

11

A really amazing, after Dipper and Mabel leave, but before they set sailing sort of random adventures of the Stans. Full of humor, fun, and if I have this right - proper flash-back angst?

orphan_account

The Ghost that Lives in Great Uncle Ford’s Basement

Yes

22,348

7

Stanley - GOES BACK IN TIME, and ends up as a ghost. But I think what’s most important here, is that he’s basically lived twice but looks young. And the ending. It finally makes Canon the better option in a not ‘rip your heart out and feed it to cannibals’ way.

highwayKing

Stannapped

Yes

22,508

11

The one where Stan’s old buddies catch up with him, shove him in a trunk again, and Ford has to find him. And he does! Wait … oops, spoiler.

CCs_World

Mabel and Ford for Gravity Falls

No -

First Posted

2016-10-19

Last updated

22,889

12

Ford and Mabel Fluff as they try and save their kidnapped siblings. Apparently. Actually - you know what? I think it updated since I last saw it. I should … probably go read that.

roomapple

Liar To A Liar, For Lies Are His Coin

No -

First Posted

2016-10-19

Last updated

13 Mar 2017

23,456

10

Same Coin theory. Bill is back. Mucking about in Stanley’s head.

impish_nature

Phobos

No -

First Posted

2016-01-03

Last updated

10 Feb 2016

24,721

7

Mystery trio and Stanley has issues from his time on the road. It is unfortunate that it is incomplete.

eosrealis (Aurorealis)

Cooperation is Mandatory

No -

First Posted

2015-10-09

Last updated

6 Nov 2015

26,024

6

Stanley is a werewolf. And yet outcast from all other werewolves - of course he couldn’t just get with the program, even as a wolf! And so Ford leaves Gravity Falls to study the phenomenon.

impish_nature

Demonic Conman

Yes

26,385

8

Reverse One of Us Au. Stanley becomes the demon for Bill Cipher. What an exhausting ride. And the ending. Pretty much low-grade torture for the soul. As I recall, wasn’t there an alternate ending to this too?

videogamelover99

A Different Form a Different Time

Yes and No

First Posted

2016-12-23

Last updated

16 Apr 2017

26,407

6 works

Based on Flat Dreams and Pengychan’s and doodledrawsthings probably ideas and drawings. Bill is stuck as a human and is mostly annoyed.

the_subpar_ghost

Gravity Falls Timestuck AU

Yes

26,761

11

Mabel trapped in the past and Stanley has to help her get back. Mostly through finding Stanford, and we all know how that goes down.

Tell_Me_Tales

D-23:Guardian

No -

First Posted

2016-08-15

Last updated

23 May 2017

28,242

20

Carla McCorkle. Tell_Me_Tales adds a great addition of her as her own mystery trio in some of their work. Short chapters … that I feel get better as time goes on, but is that just me? Also - Gargoyle Stanley Au, but not monster Au.

azhdarchidaen

In Search of Antidotes

Yes

30,200

11

Historical Au. It’s great. So Stanley goes to help Stanford and it’s all in 1892. Double thumbs up.

The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)

In Another World

Yes

30,381

14

One shots of Portal Ford. Journal Style.

The_Lionheart

Takin’ Care of Business

No -

First Posted

Last updated

19 Mar 2017

30,663

9

Modern … sort of Au. Where … Stanley goes to help Stanford. But Mabel and Dipper are more like niece and nephew - not great nibings. And … it’s really good. I really like The_Lionheart. They’re a really good writer.

Kazriku

Silent Falls

No -

First Posted

2015-10-01

Last updated

26 Feb 2017

31,078

9

Absolutely no idea, but it’s got one helluva mystery element and it feels like it’s going someplace, but I’ve no idea where.

MaryPSue

Hive

Yes

32,368

2

Note: Have not read. Vaguely skimmed. Looks interesting. [Note to self: read]

Post Canon horror story with casual fluff and happy ending. I think. Wait - how is this in my history if I haven’t read it? *Sigh* I don’t even know anymore.

thesnadger

Axolotl

No -

First Posted

2016-02-18

Last updated

18 Jan 2017

32,458

11

Post Weirdmeggedon and Bill is back. The Stans head over to Gravity Falls from their sea voyage to let family comfort, and maybe find a solution.

Kazriku

My Demons

No -

First Posted

2015-08-16

Last updated

28 Mar 2016

33,672

13

Mystery Twins.

Demonic Possession included. Kazriku also made a lyric video based on the same title and I recommend listening to it. Possibly while reading.

delcatty (Harlecat)

The Thing On the Doorstep

Yes

35,915

12

What is this - lovecraft? ... Ha! I was right. I also don’t know much about lovecraft. But I do, however, know about this. And it’s Stanford getting himself into messes in a 1930’s setting and Stanley trying to help while overcoming Fiddleford’s phobia towards horrors of the eldritch type. The actual thing on the doorstep is … a mixture of a shiver down your spine and ‘bleck.’

Amydiddle

Theory of Relativity

Yes

39,151

21

Relative Falls. Au colliding with Canon. Stanley and Stanford end up in relativity falls on a boat trip. Actually, the kids meeting their older selves - that’s neat.

The Last Speecher (HeidiMelone)

Stanley McGucket

Yes

39,759

14

Stanley MCGUCKET. And that’s just PART ONE.

… wait. Guys. It UPDATED since I last saw it. I have so much to catch up on.

SandyQuinn

There’s an Endless Road

Yes

41,073

8

This one is so great. Who doesn’t love a road trip? With your annoying brother and archenemy? Stanford sure knows how to pick ‘em. Also, this tag - ‘horror that is completely undercut by humour.’ It’s adventure in an almost episodic way, but also not at all, and is just super fun while not simply ‘pure fluff’ in any way shape or form.

Giroshane

Gravity Falls Adventures

Yes. But you kinda wish no. Series is marked incomplete, so maybe?

44,073

3 works

The Adventure with ____

How else to describe? Hurt/Comfort.

Stanley, Stanford, Mabel, and Dipper. Post Weirdmeggedon/in Weirdmeggedon.

Fordanoia

Gotham Falls

No -

First Posted

2016-09-27

Last updated

18 May 2017

45,735

11

Batman, Gravity Falls crossover! What more do you people want?

asbelow

Time Has Changed Me (And Left Me Full Of Doubt)

No -

First Posted

2017-01-18

Last updated

13 May 2017

46,708

8

REALLY GOOD ONE GUYS. Everytime I think about - Stanley. Going through that portal. Coming out. And still not speaking to Ford for another couple of years. Having that kid. Dealing with trauma of having been on the other side of that portal. REALLY GOOD ONE. Major focus on awesome slice of life that just is REALLY GOOD.

Nicnac

Elementary Falls

Yes

48,665

15 works

Stanley and Stanford get an orphaned Dipper and Mabel. A lot of oneshots around this, filled with feels and fluff.

tallykale

A better place, a better time

Yes and No

First Posted

2015-12-02

Last updated

22 Feb 2016

49,002

3 works

Mystery Trio. Stanley and Stanford reunite. Help.

dliriously

Changing Tides and Tribulations

No -

First Posted

2016-06-04

Last updated

23 Jun 2016

49,902

6

Really fantastic Stanley and Stanford post weirdmeggedon on their boat sail away and still deal with nightmares and disillusion and ‘what did Ford get up to in the portal?’ and STUFF!

WDW

A Thousand Natural Shocks

No -

First Posted

2015-10-09

Last updated

3 Aug 2016

53,750

14

Neverhuman AU. As in, ‘Stan Pines Dead’ Stanley actually died in that car crash and made a deal with a demon that wasn’t Bill Cipher and melded and is … no longer … human I guess.

PengyChan

Flat Dreams

Yes

53,940

16

Alright. Full disclosure. This is a really good fic. But … I’ve never understood the whole - ‘it makes Bill Cipher into a redeemable character’ thing. Bill feels well rounded and it gives Bill Cipher good motivations for the show. But … he’s still actually a rather genuinely rude person who does bad stuff with only slightly more understood reasons. If anything it just pulls him from psychopath to misguided. I don’t feel sorry for him, I’m just six times more interested in him as a character. But other than that - Man is this a really great fic.[Note to Self. Edit this description][Edit of the Edit: Ignore me. I know nothing]

Queen_Mab

Ad Astra

No -

First Posted

2016-07-29

Last updated

3 Jun 2017

54,200

11

Mabel falls into the Portal to find a new Grunkle. The selling point would have to be how amazing the portal Mabel bits are. Ford and Mabel. It’s just fantastic at times. And then in rolls the Dipper and Stan bits and everything is up in flames.

MaryPSue

Raising Stakes

No -

First Posted

2015-11-23

Last updated

4 Jun 2017

56,058

19

Vampire Stanley. Enough Said. Also Stanley showing up at his old ‘friend’s’ house when the guy is thinking about how harmless Stan Pines is. He was BEGGING to get his throat ripped out. That scene was so cool.

Sarah1281

A Time Wish

Yes

59,420

18

Stanley goes back in time to stop himself from landing Ford in the portal. He lands as a old mind in a young body and stays level headed as Ford wigs out. And proceeds to relieve the next thirty years.

embulalia

Two Old Men and the Sea

Yes

69,409

26

Boat adventures that head back to Gravity Falls. This one includes werewolves, nightmares, amnesia, seizures, Demonic possession, and torture. All from the tags, because for the life of me this blends in with other fics. I should probably reread this. (I remember the werewolves well enough ...? and obviously liked it ...)

scribefindegil

Fisherman’s Knot

No -

First Posted

2016-03-06

Last updated

27 May 2017

84,545

17

You think it’s over. And then there’s another twenty thousand words if not more. You don’t know how to handle these feelings.

babyblueavenger

Mystery Nerds AU

Yes and No

First Posted

2015-11-26

Last updated

2 Jun 2016

97,460

5 works

Series. It’s the last one that isn’t finished, with a 4 chaptered 46k word count hanging off the side.

WinchesterWarrenSon

Motorbikes and Sailboats

Yes

114,378

3 works

Okay, so if you’ve ever heard of Jimmy Snakes being a jerk and being in cahoots with Stanley in any way shape or form … this was probably where those ideas came from. That and the original Jimmy Snakes character info from the show. This um … it breaks you. If I was going to warn against any of these fics. This is the one I’d seriously warn against. I’m serious. Parts of me wish … that I’d just glanced over this one. I don’t know if I’ll ever recover. You should finish it, bordering on tears if not outright crying. It’s good. Really, REALLY good. Almost too good. I’m warning you DO NOT READ THIS ONE (you’re gonna read it anyways aren’t you, well I tried)

EvilEkat

Versability

Yes

131,274

33

Stanley … strikes it rich, become an even worse person, and then gets the kids when his and Stanford’s names are mixed up.

Overall - Excellent. Very, very Excellent.

DisneyMuse, slytherintbh

The Demon’s Apprentice

Yes ish

149,836

2 major works, plus a drabble and alternate endings

Have I read this? I feel like I have, but I’m not sure. It’s where Dipper becomes Bill Cipher’s apprentice of magic and Ford is just not having it. But … have I read this?

The_Lionheart

One Sword

Yes and No

First Posted

2016-07-31

Last updated

9 May 2017

239,518

9 works

Oh, just lots. Portal adventures. Reimagining of canon episodes. Crossovers. But what I wanna know is how they get away with some of that purple prose stuff? Poetry? Different formats? It’s brilliant. How? Just - how?