#give me deer dipper

[invertedmoth]

FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY IVE BEEN WAITING FOR WHEN WE BRING BACK MONSTER FALLS

Monster Falls,,, save me Monster Falls

[arttsuka]

Werewolf Wendy 💢💥💥💯💥💥💣

Also the twins

The lineart that I also colored digitally (mainly to decide on the final colors)

[twoa-plus]

hello gravity falls fandom i am going insane and putting everyone into monsterfalls. i cannot be stopped. i’m on mobile so i can only post 10 at a time but here’s the first 10 + explanations :3

mermaid mabel is cool and all but i think she should be Weirder. also the idea of her not being able to frolic makes me sad. so she’s a wolpertinger now

i like cervitaur dipper he can stay. gave him a lil saddlebag for the extra pocket space & turned the spots on his back into more constellations :3

BEAR WITH ME OK dragon stan. PLEASE PLEASE HEAR ME OUT PLEASE i pulled out the monster manual for this and everything & copper dragon suits him PERFECTLY they’re funny and charismatic and like having company around and get annoyed with people who don’t like their jokes and are very protective of their hoards and

i like sphinx ford i think it suits him but i don’t really like how everyone just makes him a lion furry with wings like c’mon get WEIRD !!!! give that cat a jarringly human face

tbh my justification for this one is mostly just that i think it’s funny but. fur bearing trout wendy. they come from lumberjack lore so it’s at least kind of on theme

listen i usually just draw twinks and pretty girls im fighting for my life here dont @ me. anyways fairy soos comes from a post by @/year2000electronics :3

GRENDAAA i wanted her to be both pretty/cute and also strong bc like. yeag. so i settled on peryton with a violet-backed starling as the bird :) c’mon man it’s a deer pegasus with cool colors what’s not to love

when i first started doing these my bestie said candy would be a fresno nightcrawler and i have not looked back. i dont know why but it suits her so much

someone in my tiktok comments said mothman robbie and i was just like. yeah sounds legit. and then my bestie said he’d be a rosy maple moth who dyes himself black/red to be emo or whatever and now we’re here :3

gideon is a kitsune bc they’re tricksters or whatever and also easy to turn into a marketable plushie. he would totally be plushie-able

ok now i am off to make the sequel i’ll put a link here when it’s done :D

edit: IT HAS ARRIVED

[ckret2]

Chapter 44 of human Bill Cipher wishing he was trapped in the Mystery Shack again:

The Eclipse: Part 2

Gravity is disappearing, and to find out why, Ford's inspecting the sites where the fabric of spacetime might have been damaged by Weirdmageddon. Dipper's glad to come along.

Bill really, really, really isn't.

"I am genuinely offering you helpful advice, that also happens to be self-serving because you idiots wouldn't trust me if I claimed I was being charitable anyway," Bill went on, as he'd been going on for the past five minutes. "This isn't a trick! I'm not running a con! I'm completely serious: being outside during an eclipse is the stupidest thing you could do. You don't want to watch it, I want to watch it even less, staying inside is mutually beneficial!"

"Do you think I should have brought my camera?" Dipper asked, determinedly ignoring Bill as he trailed behind them.

"What for?" Ford asked, also ignoring Bill.

"I've been trying to expand my Guide to the Unexplained series this summer—I've been doing longer episodes, a couple of them are ten minutes—but I wasn't sure if we'd see anything cool and my backpack was already heavy..."

"Hmm. I suspect either there won't be anything worth seeing—or, if there is, we'll be far too busy dealing with it to record footage."

"Yeah," Dipper sighed, "I guess you're right."

"This is why my journals have more illustrations than photographs."

Bill let out a loud groan of frustration before jogging to catch up with the humans. He checked the trail ahead to make sure he wasn't about to trip, then turned to walk sideways, facing Dipper and Ford as they walked. "Okay, fine, you win. So, just to be clear—the only reason you two are dragging me out here is to check a few locations for these imaginary 'micro-rips' you think are shredding the fabric of reality apart. Right? As soon as we've checked the three places you want, it's over, you admit you were wrong, and we go back to the shack?"

"Yes, Cipher," Ford sighed. "Once we've checked those locations, if we can't find evidence that any of the areas of most concern are near the one hundred thousand micro-rip danger threshold, we'll go home. Since dimensional rips could pop up anywhere around Gravity Falls, there's a possibility there could be clusters over the danger threshold away from the three areas of concern, but with no way to guess where they might be—"

"Fine. Then let's get this over with," Bill said. "Totality is in two days, if we're back home by tomorrow night we'll still avoid it. But if you try to drag me outside again after we get back, I'm hitting everyone with the Amnesia Limina curse and nobody's going outside."

With that threat delivered, Bill cartwheeled ahead of the humans, landed on his feet, and bounded ahead in long moonwalking lopes.

"Any idea why gravity's going down faster for him than the rest of town?" Dipper asked.

"Only that, if there are rips opening between us and the Nightmare Realm, perhaps they're giving Bill back some of his powers," Ford said. "Perhaps his powers are stored in the Nightmare Realm. Although I don't know how that would work." It was a better explanation than Bill's claim that he could just float better than humans, anyway.

The bracelet around Dipper's wrist momentarily tightened as Bill reached the far end of his invisible tether, then loosened as Dipper continue forward; and then tightened a second time, and a third time. From up the trail, Bill shouted, "Would you hurry up!" 

"You slow down! Some of us still have to walk!"

But even so, the slowly decreasing gravity was making the hike noticeably easier. Their backpacks sat lighter on their shoulders, and each stride seemed to carry them a little higher and farther than they expected. They startled a deer, and then the deer startled itself with how high it jumped.

"On second thought, it might not be a good idea to take him back to the shack while this is going on," Ford said. "Even if there aren't enough micro-rips in the basement, I'm not wholly convinced it won't end up the epicenter of whatever's about to happen. And if Bill wants so badly to be so close to it..."

From further up the trail, Bill shouted, "If you were any more paranoid, you'd be asking your own shadow why it's following you!"

"If you had access to any more of your powers, you'd be possessing my shadow!"

"Ha!" Bill had stopped to perch on a fallen tree that on any other day would have been far too slender to hold an adult's weight, balanced on it like a tightrope, and waited there for the others to catch up. "Fine, we don't need to go back to the shack, whatever makes you happy! As long as we get inside. Stanley's camper, a motel room, the old Corduroy cabin—hey, the Northwest place is pretty empty these days, isn't it? Is Specs renting out rooms, or...?"

"I am not taking you to Northwest Manor," Ford said. "Fiddleford's had enough trouble without letting you into his life again." Although that was only one of several reasons Ford wanted to keep them apart. For Fiddleford's safety, they couldn't risk Bill finding out that Fiddleford had been told his identity; and, now that Bill had confessed he could see through walls, they couldn't give him a chance to peer through the manor's walls and discover the ongoing paradox fuel synthesis project.

Bill laughed in disbelief. "Oh now you're concerned about somebody else's wellbeing, when it's his—fine! Fine, fine, fine! That's just fine! That's great! Terrific!" He hopped off his perch. "No evidence of self-preservation and let's not even think about respecting the triangle's wishes, but when the hillbilly might be in imaginary danger—!"

"That 'hillbilly' is one of the most brilliant men alive and the best friend I've ever known—"

"Ha!" Angrily, Bill yelled, "Some best friend, he erased you straight out of his head! You don't even know what a best friend is!"

Ford winced—he knew he'd never been much of a friend back to Fiddleford—but while he was gearing himself up to defend himself against whatever accusation Bill lobbed next, Bill turned away from the humans and stormed up the trail, leaving them behind as the weaving path took him behind several trees.

Every couple of steps, Dipper's bracelet twitched against his wrist as Bill tried to get even further ahead and was thwarted. He chuckled. "Do you think you touched a nerve?"

The corner of Ford's mouth quirked up; but he shook his head. "He's just mad he's not getting his way. As usual."

####

"I take it this is our first destination," Bill said, hands planted on his hips, looking around the forest. "This looks like the area where Shooting Star gave me the rift."

Dipper said, "You mean the place where you tricked—"

Bill shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes. "Anyway, that aside, all the glued-shut wormholes and this are a bigger hint." He tapped the tip of one dress shoe—dusty after a walk in the woods—at the start of a long crevasse in the ground weaving through the trees.

"Yes," Ford said distractedly, taking his micro-rip scanner out of his backpack and turning it on. "This is the place." He took an initial reading, frowned, and followed the crevasse deeper into the woods.

Bill trailed along after him, gesturing at the jagged lines of bending light hanging in the air. "You did a terrible repair job, by the way. Stretching the edges of the rips to meet like that puts more stress on the reality in between the rips. You should have sutured them and let them heal naturally," Bill said. "If there are a bunch of tiny rips in the area, your own shoddy work probably caused them."

"Mm-hm," Ford said, fully focused on the scanner.

Bill's shoulders slumped. He hopped to the other side of the crack in the earth from Ford and strode ahead purposefully, ignoring him.

He glanced at a wooden sign staked next to the crack, nearly passed it, and did a double take. The sign read "MABEL'S FAULT". Bill laughed in surprise. "Who did this?"

"What—?" Dipper caught up and saw the sign. "Oh."

####

2012

Mabel's smile faded as she entered the clearing. "Oh. I... think this is the place where—Bill tricked me in Blarblar's body."

"Guess that explains all the rips in this area," Dipper said. He patted Mabel's back.

She looked down—and spotted the new crack in the ground. She gasped, immediately latching on to the distraction. "Hey, what's that! That wasn't here before!" She knelt next to the crack and peered inside. "Whoa!"

"Huh. Maybe it opened up when the rift broke?"

"How deep do you think it goes?" Mabel hopped back up, straddled the gap, and yelled down into it, "Hello!"

"Careful," Dipper said. "What if it's unstable?"

"We should give it a name," Mabel said. "It's a new geographic feature! We can put it on maps and be famous! What'll we call it?"

"Huh." Dipper stroked his chin. "Well... it looks kind of like a miniature fault line... and you were here when it formed, so I guess that kinda means you discovered it... so maybe... 'Mabel's Fault'...?"

Mabel stared at him.

Dipper's eyes widened in horror. "Oh. Ohh no."

Mabel bit her lip.

"I didn't mean it that way! I swear I didn't mean it that way—"

"Dipper!" Mabel cracked up. "We're calling it that."

"No," Dipper said, mortified. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Please please don't—"

"Grunkle Staaan, Grunkle Fooord!" Mabel took off toward where they'd last seen their grunkles. "Did you hear what Dipper said—!"

"I'm sorryyy!"

####

2013

Dipper cringed. "Look, I didn't hear it until I said it out loud, okay—"

Bill burst out in shrill cackles.

"I didn't mean it!"

"Y-you're the worst brother ever!"

Dipper groaned, contemplated climbing down into the fault, and instead settled for pulling his hat down over his face again.

Ford passed by with the scanner, shot Bill a suspicious sideways look, and demanded, "What's so funny?"

Still laughing, Bill gestured at the "MABEL'S FAULT" sign.

"Oh." Ford glanced at Dipper, fought not to smile at the poor kid's embarrassment—he'd gotten enough teasing last summer—and said, "Right." He moved on.

"Hey," Bill called, "What's the score?"

Ford paused, but didn't reply.

"Well?" Bill pressed. "You're already past where the rift broke! Don't you figure that's where the most rips would be?"

Ford said, "The scanner's detecting about fourteen thousand."

Bill whistled. He meandered back to Ford's side of the fault. "Sounds like a lot. I'm telling you, the wormholes in this place should've been sutured, that's what your problem is."

"It is a lot," Ford said brusquely. He hesitated. "But."

"But?" Bill prompted.

"But... it's less than a fifth of what we'd expect to see if the fabric of reality were falling apart."

"Wow. Let me pretend to be surprised." Bill made zero effort to look surprised. "That's because the fabric of reality isn't falling apart. You idiot."

Ford glared at his scanner silently.

"You fool," Bill tried. "You buffoon."

Ford rounded furiously on him. "The more you say it's nothing, the more you just convince me that you're lying!"

"Which is stupid! If you always assume I'm lying, how do you know I'm not saying 'it's nothing' to trick you into thinking it's something when it isn't!"

"I don't know! There's no way to know with you! That's why I'm checking with a scanner!" Ford pointed aggressively at the scanner. "Because I'm a scientist!"

"You're a pretty pathetic scientist if you refuse to listen when the expert on a topic tells you what's—"

"—maybe if the self-proclaimed 'expert' weren't a mythomaniac—"

"Guys," Dipper said tiredly. "You've had this argument three times. Can we move on?"

Ford closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Right."

"No," Bill said. "Not until I win it."

"Can it, Bill." Ford glanced toward the sky to orient himself, looked around for the path through the trees, and started walking. "Come on. Next site—the place where the rift closed."

Bill clenched his jaw. Under his breath, he muttered, "As if I've ever done anything in my life to make me look untrustworthy..." He glanced up as well—and his gaze lingered on the sky much longer than Ford's.

####

"So I was thinking about what we could do after this," Dipper said, looking hopefully up at Ford.

It took a moment for Ford to drag himself out of his thoughts and look at Dipper. "Yes? You mean after..."

"After the ecl—" Dipper winced, "the... rips get sealed, or whatever's going on." He'd pulled out his journal and was holding it hopefully. "Maybe... I could show you the research I've been doing on the Fremont Nightwigglers? I think they've been stealing pants in town."

He gave Dipper a little more attention. "Is this one of their migration years?" 

"Yeah, I think so! One was caught on a security camera—or at least what looks like one. Here." Dipper flipped open to the two-page spread he was currently working on and held it up for Ford to inspect.

He studied the pictures, smiling slightly. "Would you look at that. Very impressive research. I only experienced one migration during my time in Gravity Falls, and they'd all but moved on by the time I caught wind of it. Never even saw one—I had to interview the townspeople to get a description of them."

"Really? I don't remember seeing them in your journals."

"Ah, they never made it in. I was focused on compiling magical spells and artifacts for Journal 2 at the time. I took some notes with the thought of putting them in Journal 1, but never felt like I'd collected enough information to write about them—especially when I hadn't witnessed one myself," Ford said. "You've already collected more here than I ever did. I wasn't even sure they were real!"

Dipper's face lit up. "Really? It's not that much—I still haven't found one yet either, it's mostly interviews about the crime spree."

"It's more real investigative work than I did on them. I only got as far as asking a couple of people at the diner to describe the local stories. You've got the dates and times they've been hitting the stores."

"I guess so." Dipper beamed proudly. "I haven't heard any 'local stories' about them, though. I only recognized them from a documentary I saw on Californian cryptids."

"That might be the Blind Eye's handiwork. Everyone recognized the name when I lived here. I'll see if I can dig up the notes I took, you might find the information valuable," Ford said. "I'm not sure where I left them, but they're probably still somewhere in my study."

"Scrapbook in your study on the top right corner of your desk," Bill said. "Under the box of glue bottles. You're welcome."

Ford threw him an irritated look. Bill had gotten ahead of them while Ford was looking at Dipper's journal, and now he was crouched beside a creek, scooping up handfuls of water, momentarily inspecting them, and letting them spill back out. The eye on the hood stared balefully up at Ford from Bill's back.

Ford asked, "What in the world are you doing."

"Communing with the dread harbingers of the coming eclipse," Bill said flatly. "You can't see them of course, they're invisible to you."

"Of course." Ford muttered, "I don't know why I bother to ask."

Under his breath, Bill mumbled, "Don't know why he bothered to ask."

Ford studied the creek and checked his map. They were hiking east toward the lake, with the town to their south and the cliff to the north; the creek ran north to south in front of them. On the other side of the creek, southeast of them, was a thicker, overgrown part of the woods, the shadows between the trees darker and quieter. "This seems like a safe place to wait," Ford said. "Dipper, you stay here while I scan the next site. Keep him out of trouble."

Dipper nodded. Bill cast Ford a sullen look, then rolled his eye and looked back at the water.

"After I've checked the next spot, we'll follow the cliffside to the lake," Ford said, pointing northeast, away from the dark area of the forest. "If there's still daylight, we can take a boat behind Trembley Falls and set up camp inside the cave."

"Sounds good." Dipper looked at Bill's tiny borrowed backpack. "You... didn't bring a tent, did you."

"Sorry, do you think I have a tent to bring?" Bill asked. "Do you expect me to slide an entire tipi out of my—"

Ford interrupted, "Dipper, you brought a tent, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then that's sufficient. You can share my tent and we'll set up Bill's as far from ours as possible. We'll be safer that way."

Bill ignored the implicit accusation with silent dignity.

Dipper nodded. "Good idea." 

"Now, let's see..." Ford studied the creek. It was much wider than he could usually jump, but under the current gravity conditions... He bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times, testing how light he currently felt; then took a few steps back, got a running start, and with a "hup!" leaped across the creek. He cleared it by several feet and almost ran into a tree.

Dipper gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Dipper! Just... don't know my own strength." How low was gravity now, he wondered? He could see grass swaying beneath the surface of the creek. It hadn't rained lately; without as much gravity, even water was being pulled down less, letting it rise higher and flood the creek's banks. He hoped they figured out how to reverse this before the lake flooded. When they made it into the cave, they'd have to camp on high ground. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Dipper side-eyed Bill; but when he kept gazing into the water without a word, Dipper said suspiciously, "What, no complaints about camping?"

"What's there to complain about?" Bill asked.

"I don't know, you've complained about everything else so far."

"This is the only part of your expedition that isn't a terrible idea," Bill said. "I love camping! Hypothetically. The Nightmare Realm isn't known for picturesque campgrounds. But hey, I like being surrounded by trees. And a private tent? Deluxe accommodations! It's just too bad you'll be dragging the mood down."

"Hey."

Bill laughed. "You're too easy."

Dipper scowled. "You don't seem like the type to be into camping."

"Why not?"

Dipper thought about it. "Man, I dunno, you just—seem like a city person? You're always talking about how much you want to throw wild parties, that's basically the opposite of camping in the woods."

"Is it?" Bill asked. "Welcome to the cult of Dionysus."

Given what Dipper could remember about Dionysus from the book of Greek mythology he'd read in sixth grade, he supposed wild parties and hanging out in the woods weren't mutually exclusive. So what was it about Bill that made Dipper feel so strongly that he wouldn't be caught dead roughing it?

Finally, Dipper said, "I guess it's the top hat and bow tie."

"They're not a top hat and bow tie."

He gave Bill a perplexed look. "Really? What are they?"

"Did you ever read that horror story about the bride with a velvet ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, and when her new husband unties it, her head falls off her neck and bounces down the stairs—?"

Dipper shuddered. "I'm sorry I asked."

Bill laughed.

After a brief silence, he finally dragged his eyes away from the water and impressively flicked a couple of mosquitoes out of the air with a finger. (Dipper wished he could do that. His arms were coated in soothsquito bite messages. He wondered what "BURN TACK" was supposed to mean.) Bill took off his backpack, rummaged around in it, and muttered, "I should've brought a book." He looked around the bank of the creek for a patch of sunlight, pushed his sleeves and leggings up to expose as much skin as possible, and flopped down in the light, eyes shut and hands laced on his chest over the backpack.

Dipper supposed that meant he was being ignored. He took his journal back out and flipped to the section on the Nightwigglers. He'd need some empty space to add Ford's local folklore once they got home. Was there any open space in the next few pages?

"It really shouldn't be called 'Mabel's Fault,'" Bill said out of the blue. "It's not her fault. It should be called 'Bill's Fault.' I'm the one who made it, aren't I?"

Dipper lowered his journal. "Sorry, are you actually accepting blame for something? You're admitting you did something wrong?"

Bill didn't even open his eyes. "I'm not 'accepting blame,' I'm claiming credit. Weirdmageddon was great. Can't help that you're all too boring to see that."

"But you said 'Bill's Fault.' Not 'Bill's Triumph' or something."

"Sure, because we're talking about a geological fault. Don't read too deep into it, kid."

"Pff, no, you definitely said it was your fault. I can't believe Grunkle Ford missed that—"

Bill abruptly sat up. "Hey. What's the 'next site.'"

"What?"

Bill counted off on his fingers, "Six-Fingers said there are four sites you want to hit, right? The place where the rift formed, the place Weirdmageddon started, the place the rift was during Weirdmageddon, and the place Weirdmageddon ended. The rift formed at the portal—been there—Weirdmageddon started at the fault—been there—during Weirdmageddon it was in the sky—going there tomorrow—so where did Weirdmageddon end? Wasn't it in the sky too?"

"Oh," Dipper said. "It's just. Y'know. It's just a... place."

Bill gave him a sharp look.

Dipper swallowed hard. "No big deal. Just... trees and stuff."

Bill flipped up his eye patch, staring in the direction Ford had disappeared. Dipper could see the white of his eye turning red.

"Hey!" Dipper got in front of Bill, trying to block the view of the forest. "It's nothing important. You—you wouldn't even be interested. Really."

Bill just stared straight through Dipper. And then, before Dipper could react, Bill was on his feet and bolting past him. By the time Dipper turned around Bill was already across the creek, following the path Ford had taken.

"No no no, come back!" Dipper jumped the creek and sprinted after Bill, shouting, "Don't go that way, you can't go that way, Bill—"

There was a dark, quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest, as if no animals had dared visit the area for nearly a year, leaving it to choke itself on its own greenery. Bill was headed straight for the heart of it. He moved through the trees like a swimmer through underwater ruins, kicking off trunks to propel himself forward, grabbing branches to help twist his body around and between them without slowing down—more flying than running, gravity hardly seeming to touch him at all.

He barreled past Ford and his scanner without even acknowledging him. Ford gasped, "Wait—" He turned the direction Bill had come from.

Dipper was squeezing between two trees and tripped over a hidden root. "Grunkle Ford—!"

"Dipper! You still have the bracelet!" Ford pointed, "Run the other direction!"

"Right!" He turned around and squeezed back between the dense trees.

And Ford took off after Bill.

Wild brambles tore at Bill's skin and ripped at his hoodie; he ignored the pain, letting the prickles bite into him as he forced his way through the shrubs—

And then he stood in the clearing, gasping in unsteady breaths, his wide unblinking eyes staring.

In front of him, wide unblinking eye staring vacantly into the trees, was his corpse.

"Bill!" Ford fought against the brambles, trying to figure out how Bill had gotten through. "Don't touch it! We don't know what could happen—"

Bill lunged for the statue.

The bracelet snapped tight around his wrist. Bill's fingers were inches away from his corpse's outstretched hand.

Thirty feet away, Dipper's bracelet went tight while he was trying to scramble over an ancient log. He awkwardly tried to keep his balance on the log; rather than risk toppling back in Bill's direction, he flung his weight the other way, keeping the invisible thread between them taut by leaning so far over that if it weren't for the bracelet holding him up he'd fall to the forest floor.

Bill fell to his knees, clawing at the dirt and grass with his free hand and feet, desperate to drag himself closer in spite of the completely immovable bracelet.

It seemed impossible to Ford that the thin invisible thread wrenching Bill's arm back would hold him for long; Bill would sooner dislocate his own shoulder to gain those last few inches. Ford fell out of the brambles and seized one of Bill's legs. "Bill—"

Bill tried to kick Ford in the face. "You KNEW!" he shrieked. "You knew I was here this WHOLE TIME and you NEVER TOLD ME, you ANIMALS! I could have had my body back! I COULD BE HOME!"

That was exactly what Ford was afraid of. Gritting his teeth, Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's torso and the other around his neck, struggling to get enough purchase on the torn-up ground to move Bill.

Wheezing for breath, Bill tried to kick out one of Ford's knees. Ford took advantage of the split second one of Bill's feet wasn't dug in to drag him back; he only managed to move him a few inches.

But a few inches of slack on the invisible thread was enough to throw off Dipper's balance. He instinctively tried to flail back upright, overcorrected, and tumbled off the log the wrong way. "No—!"

Bill lunged out of Ford's hold, scrabbled across the last few inches to his corpse, and planted his hand on his stone face.

He froze.

Ford froze.

Nothing happened.

"N..." Bill grabbed his arm, grabbed his hand, as though trying to shake on a deal with his own body; nothing. "No." He sounded more confused than anything. "No, no, nonono..."

He hung off the statue by his grip, pressed his forehead against their joined hands. And then he let go and slowly put his trembling hand on the dead face. And then he sat there, breathing shakily, every few seconds sucking in a hitching gasp that made his shoulders jerk.

Ford gingerly got to his feet, brushed his clothes off, and looked at Bill. He didn't move for a moment; then reached for Bill's shoulder; then stopped, curled his hand into a ball, clasped it behind his back, and turned away. "Dipper," he called. "You can come back. It's..." He cast one last glance at Bill, then forced himself to look away. "It's safe."

By the time Dipper caught up, Ford had made his way back into the overgrowth, leaving Bill alone in the clearing. Dipper started, "What...?" but fell silent when he saw Ford's face. He looked past him at Bill and winced.

Ford shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "We should give him..." Dipper nodded.

Bill remained kneeling for less than a minute. Then he leaned forward, used his sleeve to wipe some of the moss off of his dead eye and the bird crap off his hat and hand, and unsteadily heaved himself back to his feet. He moved like he was very, very old. He glanced over his shoulder at Ford and Dipper. "What're you two staring at." His voice sounded like somebody was attempting to strangle him and his smile looked like a zombie had pulled its skin back on wrong. "You should've said you were waiting on me. I was just..." His eyes briefly unfocused. He shook his head. "Just taking a break." His cheeks were dry. He hadn't even cried.

They stepped back as Bill wove around the brambles. Dipper swallowed hard and asked, "Are you alr—"

"Of course I am." Bill plodded mechanically toward the path out of the dense dark woods. 

Ford asked, "Do you want t—"

"What I want is to get wherever we're pitching our tents before nightfall." Bill pulled his eyepatch back in place. "You're making us camp, right?"

They had no choice. If they wanted to get to the top of Trembley Falls, reach Gravity Peak, and get back down the same day, they had to be ready to ascend in the morning. They couldn't afford to go back to the shack tonight. "Are you s—"

"What were the readings like," Bill asked.

Ford hadn't even gotten as far as taking readings around the statue; he'd still been checking the perimeter of the overgrown zone when Bill ran past. He looked for where he'd dropped his scanner, picked it up, and checked. "215 micro-rips detected. Higher than baseline levels, but—not even as high as readings around the portal."

Voice thick with venom, Bill said, "What a surprise."

When the forest had brightened again and the creek was visible, Bill turned to travel upstream alongside it. Dipper pointed across the creek at Bill's backpack. "You forgot your..."

"Right," Bill said tiredly. He hopped across the creek. 

And gasped in shock when, instead of floating across as before, he landed heavily in the middle of the creek. He squeezed his eye shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a long, silent inhale; and then he climbed out and grabbed his backpack. This time, he put enough force behind his jump to make it back across the creek. 

Dipper and Ford exchanged a look. Ford said, "Do you need a minute to dry—?"

"No."

"You could catch a cold in those damp—"

"I knew how germ theory works on your planet when your gill-breathing ancestors were still swimming around in their own feces," Bill snapped. "When I say 'no,' it's not because I don't understand, it's because I don't care. Don't treat me like I'm ignorant and don't act like you care."

Ford's jaw tightened. No, he didn't care. Bill accepted basic human decency as easily as he offered it. "Fine. Catch pneumonia."

"Fine!"

Ford pushed past Bill to lead the way to the lake. He tried not to notice how Bill was trembling.

####

Maybe ten minutes passed in silence before Ford worked up the nerve to say, "You—know why we didn't tell you." It was the closest he'd get to an apology.

Bill was silent for a long moment. "Of course I do." It was the closest he'd get to accepting it. "When I get my power back, I'm going to invent a very clumsy, easily startled species of bird whose feathers are scalpel blades. And then I'm unleashing a million in the shack, barricading the doors, and blowing an air horn."

Dipper grimaced. Ford muttered, "Thanks for reminding us not to feel too bad for you."

Bill let out a raw, broken laugh.

It was a very quiet hike to the edge of the lake. 

####

After spending the first half of the expedition trying to hurry Ford and Dipper up, now Bill was the anchor slowing them down. He trudged so slowly that Dipper kept having to stop to give his bracelet a little slack; but Bill kept moving, and Ford and Dipper agreed without speaking not to say anything about it.

By the time they reached the lake, the sun was just touching the rim of the mountain curling west around Gravity Falls. The water had risen so far, it flooded the roots of the trees nearest the shore. Far down the shore, distant dark dots, locals were doing cannonballs off the submerged pier, reveling in how high they could jump, how slowly they fell, and how their splashes hung suspended in the air.

Under the unusual conditions and with night coming on, Ford decided that it wasn't safe to try to set out for the cave under the falls. They'd camp on shore and start in the morning.

This, unsurprisingly, started another fight with Bill. "If we were falling behind, you should have said so, I'd have picked it up—!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to imply you were too ignorant to tell the time—"

"The time isn't the issue, I just didn't think you'd give up for the night before it's even civil twilight—!"

Dipper just found a low hill to pitch his tent on.

When Bill noticed, he broke off the argument, flung his hands in the air in defeat, and crouched by the lake to sulk and study the water. He reflexively scratched his arm, pushed up his sleeve with a frown, and read the soothsquitos' message. "'Deeth in the mourning,'" he muttered. "What's deeth? That's not a word."

Maybe they'd been trying to spell teeth, Ford thought. Why would they warn Bill about teeth?

Ford pitched his tent, he and Dipper made a fire, and they attempted to reconstitute some of Ford's dehydrated astronaut food to mixed success. Bill stayed by the lake and tried to eat the cereal he'd brought, but gagged on the second handful and decided dinner wasn't worth the effort.

As Ford cleaned up after dinner, Dipper rummaged through his backpack. "Hey, Grunkle Ford. So..." He pulled out a portable chess kit. "I brought this to Gravity Falls back when I thought this would be a normal summer and I thought we might go camping? And, well, here we are, and I guess things are kiiinda weird, but, I mean... might as well...?"

Fiord smiled wanly. "I think that's just what we need to unwind."

They unrolled Dipper's canvas chess board and took several tries to set up the pieces on the uneven surface. Ford let Dipper take white; he figured the younger and less experienced player could use the advantage of going first.

Bill wandered over with a can of cider early in the match and crouched at the edge of the firelight to watch. He had rolled his sleeves back down, tied his bow tie, and flipped up his hood, and in the dimming flickering light he looked disconcertingly like his real self. He hadn't bothered to stuff his hair into his hood, and it gave the impression that some strange golden internal organs were spilling out of a gash beneath Bill's eye.

After watching for several minutes, Bill said, "Dibs on playing the winner."

Ford and Dipper said, "No."

"Why not!"

"Because we don't like you," Dipper said.

"Oh, come on." Bill ignored Dipper, turning toward Ford. "Remember how much fun we used to have?"

"I remember that you're an incorrigible cheat and made every game miserable," Ford said.

Bill reeled back. His face was hidden under the shadow of his hood, yet somehow the shadow gave off the impression of fury. He chugged half his cider, unslung his backpack, and dug around inside it. "Who wants to play against humans anyway." He unscrewed a bottle of cold medicine, topped off his cider, and poured the concoction down his throat. "Ugh. You're not even any good. Black's got mate in three and I bet neither of you can see it."

Ford and Dipper stared at the board, trying to find the looming checkmate.

Bill stood. "I'm gonna go hallucinate, pass out, and hallucinate some more. More fun than hanging out with a couple of nerdy losers playing a stupid game of..." He trudged off toward his tent, muttering to himself.

Ford concluded that Bill was probably making up the mate in three—although not confidently—and returned to the game with a sigh. "It will be nice to drop him back in the shack," he muttered.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah."

Ford won—not in three moves—and they started a new game. Several minutes in, Dipper asked hesitantly, "Grunkle Ford? Do you really think the micro-rip theory...?"

Ford pursed his lips, but admitted, "Out of all the locations of concern, you could argue that the spot in the sky where the rift spent a week floating has the highest probability of sustaining lasting damage, so we still need to check. But..." He shook his head. "Based on the empirical evidence—I'm beginning to have my doubts."

Dipper's shoulders relaxed; part of him had worried questioning the Acceptable Theory would be taken as disloyalty. "Then, what do you think about Bill's...?"

Ford snorted. "'Gravitational eclipse' explanation?" He propped his chin in his hand, thinking. "I'm only certain of two things: Bill knows exactly what's going on; and he's hiding something he doesn't want us to know. Everything he's told us so far is what he wants us to think is the truth, and because of that, any of it could be lies. He hasn't given us anything we can independently verify in any way—just vague claims he expects us to take his word for and refuses to elaborate on. Even if he is telling the truth, it doesn't matter. We have to act like... not like he's lying, per se; but like what he says has no correlation with whether it's true."

And thus had been the case with everything Bill had said and done since his capture. Every power he claimed he still had, and every power he acted like he'd lost. Every bit of magical, historical, or interdimensional trivia he spouted off to make himself sound smarter. Every sweet thing he'd said to Mabel, every favor he'd offered Stan—and every time he'd told Ford he wanted to be "friends."

Dipper nodded. "Mabel says that's just how Bill talks. He doesn't care about whether what he's saying is true, he just tells you what he thinks should be true."

Ford would have to keep that in mind when talking to Bill in the future. "That girl's a wizard with Bill. Maybe she's right." Still—he had a hard time believing that figuring out what Bill was really saying had actually been that simple all along. (Maybe he just didn't want it to be that simple, after all the time he'd wasted.)

Ford glanced down at the ring the Hand Witch had gifted him. The first time she'd given it to him in the eighties, she'd told him that if the ring ever turned black, he'd chosen the wrong friends and doomed himself. He couldn't tell if it was just the firelight, but as he looked in the deep blue cabochon now, he swore he saw a swirl of black spiraling beneath the surface. He wished he knew what that meant—was he supposed to trust Bill more, or had he already absentmindedly taken something Bill had said on faith that he shouldn't have? Had that swirl first appeared only now during the eclipse, or when Ford had started studying the miniature grimoire Bill had gifted him? Was it even due to Bill? Ford hadn't studied mood-ring-o-mancy.

Dipper snuck a rook onto Ford's back row. "Checkmate."

Ford huffed. "Well done." He'd been so distracted, he hadn't even noticed Dipper lining his rook up.

Dipper pushed Ford's king over. It dramatically fell in slow motion.

They packed up the chess board, put out the campfire, and slept uneasily.

####

In spite of the sedative cold medicine, Bill couldn't get any decent sleep. It wasn't even a good trip. Every time he shut his eyes for a few minutes, he hallucinated/dreamed that he was locked back in the shack staring at the high attic ceiling, or staring silently at Soos's bedroom—or watching over the town graveyard from high above; or locked like a hunting trophy in a glass display case in some local hick's darkened den; kidnapped and tied up beneath Gideon's bed; closed in a dark airless leather box; preserved like an ancient relic in the museum; hovering above Gravity Falls' valley and trees in the still night sky —

—or petrified in the middle of a quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest. 

Or still in the tent but with his head wrenched around wrong, unable to move or feel his limbs, staring out at an angle that should have been impossible—until he awoke with lungs heaving to find his body was right and he wasn't dead; only for the humanity of his shape to reassert itself and he envied the stone corpse.

He crawled out of his tent, threw up his ill-advised concoction of cider and cold medicine, and collapsed, slipping in and out of a delirious doze until morning.

####

(I have been so looking forward to inflicting this chapter on y'all. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think, and if you thought that was bad then stay tuned for things getting even worse for Bill!! 🎉)

[stupidvillainousposts]

Dinner in the Werewolf Gene AU Household be Like

Stan: *Walks Into the Shack on All Fours and Dragging a Dead Deer in with His Teeth*

Fidds: Oh! Kids! Dinner's here! We got venison tonight!

Mabel, running downstairs at near Mach speed: Yay! Venison!

Dipper: Do you even know what venison is?

Mabel: Some type of green cow, right?

Fidds, giggling: It's a li'l more wild than a cow, sug'. Say, why don't ya go get Ford up fer supper?

Mabel: Okay! *Runs Off to Get Ford*

Dipper: So, what, did Stan just go out and kill a deer?

Stan, plopping the deer onto the table with a proud grin: Ya better believe it! This stag put up a good fight, I'll give him that. Gave me a new chest wound! *Lifts His Shirt to Show the Giant Gash*

Fidds: *Sighs* I'll clean ya up.

Stan: Ah, after dinner. This is our first whole family meal! I want everyone to be ready to eat together!

Fidds: Alright, whatever makes ya happy, my Darlin' Genius.

Mabel: *Squeals with Glee at the Nickname*

Ford, rushing into the kitchen: WHAT'S HAPPENING?! WHO'S GETTING ATTACKED AND BY WHAT?!?!?

Stan: Nothing, no one, and nothing. Geeze, Pointdexter! It's just dinner!

Ford: But Mabel- Is that a dead deer on the dinner tabel?

Stan: Yup! Rare and ready to eat!

Mabel: I call back legs!

Dipper: I call ribs!

Mabel: Wait, I changed my mind! I want ribs too!

Dipper: No! You have to take what you call! That's the rules!

Mabel: But the ribs taste better!

Stan: Eh, I'd say backstrap is best, but that's personal preference.

Dipper and Mabel: *Silently Contemplate Before Arguing Over Who Gets What*

Fidds, smirking: *Quietly, to Stan* Better get yer pickin's b'fore the pups eat everything.

Stan, smirking back: It's fine, Honey Bunches. I horked down a few gnomes while I was looking for the deer. I'll be alright. *To Ford* What about you, Pointdexter? What piece are you looking for?

Ford, pale as a ghost: I think I'm just gonna forego dinner tonight... and anything else that isn't takeout.

[seiya234]

21 grams lighter

that website, amirite? anyway can't fucking believe alex did it again.

----

“Uncle Dipper, the school said you had to sign this?”

“Me specifically?”

Hank frowned. “Well, an adult in our house.”

“You’re the first one we found,” Willow added.

Dipper picked up the paper, skimming it quickly and. Oh.

Oh my god.

“Mabel are you in here?”

As the triplets wandered off, task done, a head covered in googly eyes popped out the kitchen door. “Mmmyes?”

Dipper brandished the papers. “Do you remember MADD?”

“Moms Are Down with Drugs? Yeah. We had to do those worksheets, and go to that rally in the gym, and there was a dog in a jacket.” Mabel paused. “Also, I don’t think they actually knew what it meant when you say you’re down with something.”

“Okay, so MADD… but for selling your soul.”

The googly eyes, with impeccable comedic timing, all fell off of Mabel’s face.

“No.”

“Oh my god, there’s a pamphlet.”

By now, Mabel had joined him at the table. “’Soul Selling: Not Even Once!’ Oh. Oh Dipper, this is bad.”

He was trying to hold in peals of laughter. “I know!”

“I don’t think this is going to discourage anyone.”

“I know.”

“And look, they basically give you the directions to summon five different demons in the name of Not Doing That, this is really, really bad.”

“I̶t̷'̴s̵ ̸f̸a̷n̶t̸a̴s̶t̷i̸c̵!̴”

Mabel looked at him, just looked at him for a minute, sadness welling deep in her eyes.

“No. No it’s really not.”

------

Trillions.

A number that is truly incomprehensible, much less in the context of time.

There were souls that rotted in that stomach longer than the oldest rocks of Earth.

--------

[from the M.A.D.D. Brochure, 2285]

“So remember kids, selling your soul doesn’t just effect you. It effects every version of you! It is an indelible mark that will linger for eternity, never changing, never going away. Paths, choices, loved ones, all will wither in the face of the horrible decision that you made! Eternity is forever, don’t make it your fault!”

[penciled in the margins, a note: “so we aren’t going to talk about social inequality or systemic racism then are we?”]

------------

(the most eternal, sacred part of a being)

Dipper had been a demon for all of a month, if that, when he was offered his first soul. For a while, he… didn’t really do anything with them.

When he did, it was of course super traumatic for everyone involved but eh, that kind of went with the territory of everything that was happening in his life lately.

Point being, he never was sure why Bill kept everyone trapped inside of him, constantly screaming, constantly playing beach tunes to drown them out. No, better to eat them, get the power, set them free.

Like, obviously, not great to be eating souls in the first place, and yeah, yeah, he could tell, even ten thousand (ten million) (ten billion) years later who he had crunch munched through, but like, they were able to be out there living their lives! Doing stuff. Cycling back through.

Honestly. What had Bill been planning to do with them?

--------

For the first week after it happened, animals ran away from Mabel.

Not just cats and dogs but all animals. Flocks of birds would fly off at her approach, deer would get near the Shack and then run off, and Gompers disappeared into the woods.

After the bear ran screaming from her, Mabel put two and two together, and called Dipper.

“Is this forever?”

Dipper frowned. “What do you mean?”

Mabel waved at her body. “This.”

(it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t fair she was only 16/18/22/17, she didn’t mean for this to happen, she only wanted to live, he only wanted her to live, this wasn’t f a i r )

“Oh. Uh. Um.”

“Dipper. Just. Tell. Me.”

“Hold on.” He reached into his stomach, and pulled out something…. Ineffable.

It felt like every single cell in Mabel’s body was reaching towards it, she found herself walking towards Dipper’s open hand.

The demon looked at her.

“You can have it back.”

She was crying. When did she start crying? And more worryingly, why did it feel like this was the first real, true thing she had felt in a week?

He pushed the Ineffable thing into her chest, and Mabel sank to the ground, sobbing. She felt whole again.

She didn’t realize that she hadn’t been whole, not truly, not until now.

Alcor smirked. “Consider it… out on lease. I’ll take it back eventually.”

She should have challenged him on that. Should have asked him about that. Should have done a million trillion other things.

But Mabel was human. And scared. And so, so very young.

---------

(you were birds)

A young man with fluffy brown hair, mixing his blood with his sister and his new brother-in-law, making a promise.

(you were trees with roots entangled)

They made a family together, it was a beautiful family, they let him stay, stay when anyone else would have told him to leave.

(wherever we go next, whatever you choose, I will always be right there with you)

They fit, like spoons in a drawer, like yin and yang, salt and pepper, ketchup and mustard, literally a million different pairings you could compare the two of them to. They weren’t perfect but love doesn’t need to be, and shouldn’t be perfect.

(that’s done buddy)

One grave

(congratulations)

Another grave, but eighty years later.

(you chose Alcor instead)

[enemywasp]

I wanted to talk about what I saw, I can't seem to find the post to point it out, but basically I came across a post by someone who wrote that yes, Bill can give a child deer teeth, try to kill children, etc., but he will never date a child, and I was like … like what? So Bill can try to kill children, but he can't groomed them?? What kind of double standard is that? I think Bill is the kind of person who says "age is just a number", and we've been shown and told more than once that Bill is an immoral creature who doesn't care about laws and rules, it feels like GF or Bill fans don't know his personality

The thing is Bill's whole thing is literally manipulation and grooming, tho obviously in the show not in the sexual manner it's still there. He uses classic techniques of getting kids and adults alike to trust him and feel special, like he's the only one he can turn to. Whilst he didn't try those tactics on Dipper and Mabel in the same way as he did Ford, its literally only cause they already know he's the bad guy. And he still manages to manipulate Dipper to turn to him, uses his feelings towards others and his isolating feelings of being different and abandoned by his boy crazy sister to make him feel likes he's the only one he can turn to.

They really want to claim he's what... too innocent? Too good only in this sense to not take a sexual turn with this? I mean Dipper is a hormone riddled teen, I think it's very easy to believe he'd use that to his advantage.

Bill is a villain. Not wanting to engage in dark headcanons of the sexual variety is one thing... but defending him and insisting he's not like that?? Wild to me.

[seafallsau]

A Santa Sea Cipher that’s ✨slaying✨

This triangle is in the spirit for this season!

edit: I’ll fix Bill’s designs later, I forgot to add the purple cracks.

Grenada added the eye shadow (by force)

Candy painted his “nails” (also by force)

And Mabel made the gloves and hat. (she forced Bill to wear them)

Don’t ask how this is possible underwater, cuz idk how to answer that.

Under the cut is the process of Santa Bill.

*Sigh* “How long is this going to take?” Said Bill. Candy is in the process of painting his second hand, and Grenada finished applying the red eyeshadow. It took about 30 minutes for him to completely give up struggling, letting the three wild mermaids do whatever they were already doing.

“Don’t worry Bill, I’m almost done with the red nail polish.” Replayed Candy.

“Almost?!” Bill didn't exactly understand why it’s taking so long to paint his… nails? He didn’t exactly had the mermaid nails, he didn’t want to question that. “It’s been like a hour already! How are you not done?”

“Maybe if you would stop struggling earlier, we could have been finished, Bill!” Grenada yelled back, defending Candy for the reason why she’s almost half-way-done with his hand.

“Hey, would it make you feel better if we did this to Grunkle Stan, Grunkle Ford, and Dipper?” Asked Mabel, if Bill said no, the gals would have done it either way. Luckily she didn’t need Bill rejecting that idea, almost immedialy, “I GIVE FULL CONSENT TO THAT IDEA SHOOTING STAR! I mean, I can’t be the only male to suffer this… Christmas..? I dunno. This dumb Christmas curse or whatever.” Said Bill.

“Listen, I don’t really know how this Christmas stuff works. All I really know is that there’s gifts, snow, a red guy named Santa, and also the colors red and green. Speaking of gifts… you guys should get me some teeth, I’m talking about deer teeth especially, I’m not picky about teeth though.”

The girls didn’t know how to respond to the teeth stuff. Bill giggled like if Dipper was in the room, responding to their shock and confusion.

“Oh Mr.Nacho, your nails are done.” Said Candy, breaking the silence.

“Finally!” Bill looked to see the colors on his fingers.

“Wait, did you just call me ‘Mr.Nacho-“ Before Bill could finish his sentence, Mabel puts his Santa hat his pointy head.

“AH- ALL I SEE IS RED! SHOOTING STAR, WHAT DID YOU PUT ON MY HEAD!?”

“Relax Bill, it’s just a hat!” Grenda and Mabel say at the same time.

Bill lifts the hat off his eyeball. It feels oddly soft, well… soft as it’s going to get underwater.

“Put these on!” Mabel offers Bill some new gloves.

“And why should I? I’m a god, not some sort of dress up doll!”

“I’ll give you Mabel juice.” Mabel says, in some sort of passive-aggressive way.

A moment of silence later, and Bill yanks the gloves from Mabel and puts them on.

“Yay! These feel surprisingly comfortable. Anyways, where’s the magical drug juice?”

Before Mabel can respond, Dipper enters the room, he just came back from monster hunting with Ford.

“Mabel? What did you guys do to Bill?” Dipper says. “I should walk away” Dipper thinks to himself.

“I’m slaying b◼️tch” Bill rudely responds.

Gasps fill the room. “Hey, no cursing Bill!” Silence, once again fills the room as well. The girls head slowly turn to look at Dipper. Suddenly, the girls jump on Dipper, forcing him to be all dressed up like Bill Cipher.

“Fine, I’ll go find the liquid drug somewhere. Hopefully Stanley or Sixer doesn’t sees me like this.” Bill says to himself.

The end.

This was really fun to write.

I might draw the whole Pines family in Xmas outfits.

Plz give me recommendations for writings like this.

Remember to keep them age appropriate lol.

[stardxstsleep]

THISISNOTAWEBSITEDOTCOM GOT UPDATED

I wont spoil anything except the fact that typing in the names of characters will give you links to ebay, google, youtube, wikipedia, or sometimes images of letters, DMs, and documents

spoilers below for every working keyword that displays something (updating with my discoveries)

T.J. Eckleburg

Axolotl

Hectoring

Help Me

Love

Baby

Vallis Cineris

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Theraprism

Journal 1

Journal 2

Journal 3

Pinata

Blanchin

Deer Teeth

Disco Girl

Gun

Portal

Titansblood (ZOMG TOH REF)

Sorry

Skibidi

Math

Love Ya Bro

Dipper

Mabel

Stan

Ford

Soos

Wendy

Waddles

Pacifica

Gideon

Robbie

Bill

McGucket

Blendin

MatPat

Weird

AlexHirsch

Giffany

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

elaboration on another au while i work on some stuff for the celestial one (and also a fic au i really need to get that done soon)

i mentioned an au where ford is an interdimensional somewhat radioactive owl and seagull wizard

it’s now spiraled out of control and become an actual au so let’s talk about it (this one is less story-driven than the celestial au, but there is still a lot going on)

so something relatively important to get out of the way first. these are not your typical wizards. these are wizards combined with ideas pulled from various other things. so expect some overlap in concepts

in this au, all of the pines family (as well as all of gravity falls’ inhabitants) are wizards. each person is associated with at least one animal and one neat interest and/or skill. some examples:

-ford gets an owl, a seagull, and oddities, stan gets an opossum, a seagull, and transmutation

-dipper gets a deer and investigation, mabel gets a pig and art (you cannot convince me that sewing and knitting and crocheting aren’t art forms)

-fiddleford gets a hog, a raccoon, and engineering

the animals are essentially familiars. the first is generally inherited, gifted, or found. the second familiar is created by the wizard. they live as long as their friend does (it is not unheard of for a familiar to disappear if they don’t like their wizard. this is why preston and priscilla northwest, as well as bud gleeful, do not have familiars. they used to)

ford and stan got their first familiars via a fourth method that no one knew could actually happen at the time. that being that the familiars found them. these were the seagulls. the owl and the opossum were both created during times of high stress and, as such, are both sources of comfort for the duo

mabel was technically gifted waddles, but she considers him a find. dipper found his deer

soos got a rare case of having two gifted familiars (it’s currently unknown if he would be able to create a third one because of this). the first was a lizard gifted by his abuelita after his birthday gone wrong, the second was a goat gifted by stan

the story of this au primarily focuses around ford and mabel because if canon won’t give us sweater twins i will simply make them myself

see, ford has a problem. one of his familiars also has the same problem. i can’t really get into what exactly that is right now because i’m still considering writing this. mabel gets to know about the problem before anyone else does (this hinges on a headcanon i have which i’ll put in a separate post) and promises not to tell stan or dipper on one condition: she gets to accompany him in looking for a solution. he agrees to let her come along and so the real story begins

this post is getting a little long, so i’ll leave it there. as a final note- i do have a mental list of probably too many characters and what their familiars and interests/skills are (including future familiars :]). if you’re curious about a certain character don’t be afraid to ask about them (i might even have some extra story info about them)

[cave-monkey]

Monkey King 2009 Episode 14

I feel like someone on the writing team took umbrage to the idea a little bamboo raft would do well in open ocean. The pointed camera angle on the stores falling into the water the second they hit rough seas seemed...targeted lol.

Anyway, another lower-energy episode. I can't really say "calmer" since Old White Deer on screen together with Six Ears makes my skin crawl and feel anything but calm (Six Ears is not acting right at all, what did he do?), but it was definitely transitional, at least.

Speaking of Old White Deer, he has all these 干 relationships and it's so freaking weird. First there was just Demon King, now there's King Flood Dragon, and then Six Ears. Are there others? Does he just make a habit of this? Is this how he acquires minions? Six Ears calls him teacher right now, but is Old White Deer someday going to try to induct him into this creepy, creepy "family"? This weird cult? Were King Flood Dragon or Demon King and whoever else at one point also kids he lured in off the street, or got in good with their parents' trust somehow?

I don't like this???

Augh. Old Monkey King, please cave this guy's skull in with your staff. That might sound excessively violent. It's not. Like, why did Old White Deer go through the trouble of changing Six Ears's clothes with that spell last episode? Aesthetic? He's not a doll? Everything about this is so fucking creepy and I wasn't actually expecting it to be this creepy?

ANYWAY

Six Ears was present when Stone Monkey left! The credits have them talking too, which is great, and actually kind of make Six Ears look more conflicted and sort of...like himself than the actual episode makes him out to be. Which is also good, but also...I'm confused about the extent of that mind-whammy spell? I guess it'll become clearer over time. He was present, though. I sure hope one of the adults picked up on the fact he's not acting right :) And wonder where he's getting off to. Checking up on him after that pretty public outburst at least, maybe. That would sure be nice.

And if my entire lack of any mention of them whatsoever wasn't a clear enough sign, I...do not especially care about the heaven subplot. It gets smiles out of me occasionally, like when Laozi and General Li had their chat, and I try to keep track of things like - apparently they all have Precious Heavenly Birds that are also sometimes inanimate objects that they fight like beyblades or something? (why???) but...*heavy sigh*. I just don't care. Especially not about Fucking Dipper. That guy is...not the worst because Old White Deer exists, but he is up there. He is extremely up there.

And now, because Wudou the Absolute Tool has apparently decided to finally start putting that awful, petty little plot he's been not-so-subtly "slyly insinuating" to everyone in heaven about for the entire damn show into motion, I have to actually pay attention to him. Ugh.

Though him ending up in the middle of the monkey troop was a treat. Especially with them still so wired and territorial after almost all dying to the Demon King's army. Like, to be fair, they found a random stranger essentially taking photos of the entrance to their home, and that's a bit worrying for most people even when not regularly engaged in life-threatening warfare with their neighbors. Did they still jump to conclusions? Yes, absolutely. Would Wudou have deserved this if some nice paintings were really all he wanted? Of course not. But he's him, I've been stuck watching him weasel his way around being slimy and proprietary about Flower Fruit Mountain for pretty much the entire time I've known him, and so these guys giving him absolutely no quarter felt great, actually. No one deserves the four generals being the four generals at them more, honestly. I only wish they'd kept talking to him longer. They may have actually been able to make him cry with frustration. Especially Marshal Liu.

Also I called it, I called it, I even noticed this last episode but forgot all about it after the emotional bomb of those last five minutes, but General Ba really will not let General Beng say a single word anymore without immediately screaming GRANDPARENT TALK at him. It's so funny. Just let the man speak!

Especially when it gives us gems like General Beng, Mr. "I got praised once as a child for reading a book of poetry and I made it my whole identity" of all people busting out a sudden: "What the fuck just happened???" into the dead silence after Wudou's sudden vanishing.

Look, I'm harsh on them, but I really don't hate the four generals. I just think they should never in any way have any direct authority over children. They are better people when interacting with other adults and especially each other, honestly.

My heart, despite itself, did soften a little at General Beng and Marshal Ma yelling at Stone Monkey to just come back home if it was too hard, and all the commanders and maybe the whole troop picking it up. Though I also noticed how much better their attitudes became when Stone Monkey was given an actual title, especially one as prestigious as heir to their king. Definitely noticed that. Especially when them yelling at him to come home soon and safe contrasted their dead silence when they let him leave into the wilds of Flower Fruit Mountain entirely on his own just a few episodes ago :) Some things in life really are so much easier when you have status, I guess!

BUT. Stone Monkey. His calming breath as he looks out over the open ocean in front of him before buckling down was a really good moment? I liked that a lot. He was taking the adventure pretty okay, too! Cheerfully settling in, brightly looking for solutions to some minor inconveniences, and then...Ginseng Fruit is broken out of their gourd hiding place and you see Stone Monkey go through a mini-crisis when he realizes Ginseng Fruit is now in danger right along with him and Stone Monkey is going to have to keep them safe. The stress just slams back down. He makes the best of it, of course, and doesn't let Ginseng Fruit see much when he gets rattled, and he does genuinely like having friends with him, but I mean. Guy was definitely struggling for a few seconds there. What was he going to do, throw Ginseng Fruit into the ocean if he didn't like them being there? Try and row back to Flower Fruit Mountain against a headwind and the current to drop Ginseng Fruit back off? Like it or not, Ginseng Fruit is there to stay.

And then later when King Flood Dragon reveals himself (and he's a super creepy guy too, genuinely just messing with them and heightening their terror and struggle for fun, and it was actually disturbing), Stone Monkey snatching Ginseng Fruit up and tucking them up against his chest where they're safe and out of the way, immediately taking as much control of the situation as he can? His "Let me handle it!" making a comeback, like when he forcibly removed Six Ears from the canyon when their shelter went down. I think you can tell when Stone Monkey's genuinely scared or stressed because he immediately turns into a control freak about it. Just grabbing his friends and bodily shoving them out of the way as he tries to take over everything. I love this version of Sun Wukong so much. The writers really love examining his protectiveness, and how it's both a virtue and a flaw.

And then him trying so hard to throw Ginseng Fruit to safety when he realized he couldn't get them both out. Ay.

AND his "You can't die. You'll definitely find a big brother better than me someday (read: I'm about to die and I have to imagine you making it out and having a future and being happy and safe even without me because otherwise I'm going to lose it)." Putting all that effort into getting Ginseng Fruit clear, as safe as he can, followed by that long shot of him just having to sit there helplessly as he's pulled down to his death, unable to do anything to save himself.

Shhhush up, I don't have a lump in my throat.

It's okay though because Guanyin's coming in clutch. I couldn't see clearly enough to tell if it was another one of her hairs (if so, he's already gone through two and we're only about a quarter-ish of the way through the show oh no) or if she just called foul on King Flood Dragon and decided to intervene directly.

[necroliberty]

So because this is amazing and because I am hyperfocusing on Gravity Falls. Let me share a bit of Amelia's long-lost sister, Kelly Ness. Okay, they aren't sisters anymore, but still.

Kelly fell on the blue grass of a random dimension. She wasn't the type to keep note. The atmosphere was different, somehow safe and dangerous at the time. But again, she didn't particularly keep a note on things like that. Kelly just made a bee line to a mailbox inside either various stickers added to the tin. Mabels had a knack to give stickers to everything. But Kelly just gave them a cursory glance as her right eye gave her the info on each. Giving the coordinate to each stickers place of creation. She should make note of getting stickers for respectives Mabels. Sometimes, it was the only thing that could tell Kelly where to actually send the damm things. Eventually, she opened the mailbox with a specific key and looked through the letters. Some were boring ads that she threw around. No one needed those. Some were Stanfords incredible writings, making sure to say exactly who and where it should be sent. Other times, it was Stanley's doing letters of his own. They were often hard to send back. Mabels were also there. It was obvious with how much stickers and colors her letters had. She practically never had to read the content to know exactly where to go. A bit more, and she was wondering if Mabels just knew the mailbox wasn't actually magic. The rarest were of Dipper and McGucket. For whatever reason, these two either didn't bother make letters or weren't the type to fall in a portal. "Or maybe they both want to be left alone?"

She blinked, and her right eye started to smoke under the intense heat. Forcing Kelly to keel over and grip her eye as the letters floated around her. Smoke from her eye, holding onto them with annoyance. Through her right eye, she could always see something the one who spied. Well, what he saw, to be specific. A mirror was right in front of the demon. A man in his early 20s with brown curly hair broke through by antlers that seemed to either spill ink or petrol from every imperfection in the wood. His eyes were big, staring down the mirror for some kind of stability. Not to mention his long tail swiping at the air behind him. His clothes were still looking like a preacher from a school play. He looked incredibly annoyed. This was a very bad day. "Vulture, do I need to remind you not to insult the likes of me so blatantly."

Kelly wanted to scream that this was stupid, and she was allowed to ask questions. But she also knew better. Days like these, you needed to placate him. So Kelly still held the expression of pain and started to add a quiver to her voice. "I am sorry, I didn't mean for my words to cause harm. I was a fool to even think it in the first place."

The demon stared at his own reflection, closing his eyes too to be able to see her. He vaguely shook his head, making some his hair made of leaves fall to the bed surrounding him. "No, not a fool, just a bad day." He looked down at his hands and feet. His hands were now made of wood, and his feet were deer hooves. He hated this form with such wrath. But his eyes told that he knew better than to take her acting as proof. He didn't trust Bill anymore than she trusted him. He finally closed his eyes again.

Kelly sighed as the pain stopped. She breathed slowly and normally not to let the right eye see her weak. All the letters she had dropped were now safely in her hands, and she looked through them again. Filing them into various pockets in her messenger bag. Making sure she didn't put a letter for the wrong timeline or dimensions.

When she was finally done, she walked away until she could find a loophole in the dimension. Leaving it behind to give letters to family and friends.

This is Kelly Ness as a Mailman. They don't get uniforms because she is the only one.

My smol mini series about the drifting stars au is here!! Ft letters to Dipper!! May do more depending on the reception~

[monstersandmaw]

Male werewolf x female character - Chapter Six (sfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Ok folks, it’s time to move the story on. We’ve had more than our fair share of fluff and it’s time for a teeny tiny taste of angst. Just a little. Thank you to everyone who’s reblogged and sent in asks about it - it’s kept the embers glowing beneath the cookpot that contains this story, so thank you thank you thank you.

Content: *may contain spoilers if you’re trying to avoid them but I want to put it here anyway because it may be something people wish to avoid* the shitty ex makes an attempt at manipulation, and we finally find out what our werewoofer looks like as a woofer instead of just a wer(e)...

Part One (sfw), Part Two (sfw), Part Three (sfw), Part Four (sfw), Part Five (sfw)

Of course, any day that seemed to be going perfectly was bound to shatter like a dropped vase eventually.

After her lunch with Gabe, they’d ambled the length of the street together, down to a small, stone bridge over a river that Gabe said linked back to the beck that passed the cabin. She paused, putting palms to mossy stone and leaning over to watch a dipper splash about in the fast-flowing current, its brown and white plumage looking at once perfectly in place and just a little bit flashy. Gnats danced and whirled in intricate patterns in the air above the water, and the trees bent their boughs to taste the water, coppery leaves of turning birch fluttering down to kiss the river before the wash swept them on.

She sighed deeply. “It’s so beautiful here.”

Gabe hummed something from behind her, but didn’t speak, and before too long, they headed back towards the Centre.

“I’ve got the rest of my shift, and I’ll need to take the dogs for a run after work,” he said when he paused at the entrance to the building with his hand on the door, “But maybe we can do the Deer’s Leap route tomorrow?”

She beamed. “You could always bring the dogs if they’d be ok with me, but obviously you know what they’ll be ok with…”

He paused and seemed to think about it, but in the end he shook his head. “Mia might be alright, but the other two…” he shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Fair enough,” she shrugged. “You said they’re not really pets anyway.”

“No,” he said with a rasp to his voice.

“Hug before I go?” she asked, sensing that he wouldn’t offer even if he wanted it, and Gabe smiled and let her step into his arms. “Thank you for lunch,” she said against the soft green of his airtex top. The autumn nip to the air didn’t seem to faze him in the slightest, but even with her jacket on, she had begun to feel the chill on their slow stroll.

“Thank you for coffee and cupcakes,” he countered with a chuckle as she stepped back. “See you tomorrow.”

Walking back to the cabin after that felt like stepping on clouds.

“It’s like a dream,” she murmured to herself on the way up the gravel track to the house. It felt dangerously like it was meant to be, and she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

The rest of the her sedate afternoon passed without event. Wanting to have at least done something of note, she stretched her legs along a section of the same trail she’d done on her first day, though she didn’t go nearly so far. On the return, she ambled around the deer paths that crisscrossed the area near the cabin, stooping to take photos of delicate ferns and a particularly artistic spiderweb, before finally going home and thinking vaguely about lighting the log fire if it got much colder.

Her stomach began to rumble around half six, and she pulled out the ingredients to make a simple pasta dish, and poured herself a glass of wine.

The rasp of the curtain rails as she drew the drapes closed, shutting out the pressing dark, seemed almost raucous in the stillness of the cabin. In the city, her flat had the constant buzz of traffic outside, but here it was blissfully peaceful. By seven o’clock, the fragrant zing of tomato and basil filled the air, and she had turned the radio on to add some background noise, and was just about to go and light the wood burner to complete the cosy atmosphere when her phone started to ring.

With a scowl, she turned the gas off and stalked away from the pan of steaming pasta to retrieve her phone from scrubbed wooden kitchen table where it was buzzing itself around in a tight circle like an irritated wasp.

She answered it without looking at the screen, and when she heard his voice, she nearly dropped the phone.

“’Dess?”

She tried to snap ‘who else would it be?’ but somehow the words got stuck. His voice was thick and rough. “You’re drunk, Jake,” she said, trying to keep her tone flat and emotionless.

“Well it’s not like you’re here to stop me, is it?” he blurted, his consonants slurred. “I want you back, Odessa. I miss you.”

“Yeah? Well, we don’t always get what we want, Jake. You taught me that.”

“Come on,” he wheedled and bile rose in her throat as she heard it. How many times had she heard that tone in the last few months? “Don’t be like that. Please come home?”

Home. The very idea of a place where he resided being ‘home’ was laughable.

“No. Don’t call me again, Jake. I told you already I don’t want to hear from you again.”

“Where are you anyway?” he asked, ignoring her.  

A little spike of fear lanced through her but she tamped it down. “None of your business.”

“You’re not here and you’re not at Emma’s.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and struggled to fight down the rising tide of anxiety and nausea at the idea that he’d been to Emma’s to check if she was there. Surely she would have told her by text if he had? Perhaps she’d wanted to shield Odessa from it as long as possible though; it was the sort of thing Emma might do and think it a kindness.

The smell of dinner turned from inviting to cloying in the space of a few heartbeats and Odessa thought she might throw up. “Leave my friends out of this,” she hissed. “Don’t look for me, Jake. I can’t trust you, and we’re done. I’m not even in the city right now. When I hang up, I’m going to block your number.” Something I should have done weeks ago, she added, already taking the phone away from her ear.

“You bitch,” he spat, his voice rendered impotent and tinny over the minuscule speaker. “You can’t hide from me forever, you —”  

She hung up and with shaking hands scrolled through her contacts to block his number.

He called back twice before she could manage it, but eventually she succeeded and flung her phone across the room like a hot ember. It bounced off the sofa cushions and clattered onto the floor beneath a table where it lay quiet and innocuous, like a dead beetle on its back. Breathing hard and shaking all over from the unwelcome intrusion on her otherwise blissful escape, she stood there for a moment before her body took over and she moved on a kind of autopilot.

With her dinner abandoned on the unlit stove, she rammed on her boots and shoved the front door open, stepping out onto the porch and gasping in the chilly night air.

“Shit,” she choked, clamping her hand over her mouth in a vain attempt at keeping the tears at bay. When that didn’t work, she pressed the heels of her palms into her eye sockets until she saw a kaleidoscope of colours, but the panic still rose. “Why does he always have to ruin everything?” This was supposed to have been an entirely Jake-free vacation, and yet he’d wormed his way in all the same.

Needing to burn off the adrenaline coursing through her, she set off along the narrow dirt path that led through the wafting ferns to the creek, trying to breathe deeply and slowly. Her vision blurred as tears of frustration and anger welled and spilled over, but she cuffed them away until her sleeve was damp and she had regained some control.

Beside the river gully sat a large, flat rock that looked like a piece of flotsam, washed down the mountain from a flash flood. She sank down on it and crossed her legs, curling inwards and fuming. The pain was infinitely less than it had been when she’d first learned of his lies and betrayal, and now she only mourned the loss of the pristine holiday.

After a long few minutes of sitting there and simmering down though, she felt the woods around her go gradually still. Even the noise of the river seemed muffled as she strained, turning her head. The silence grew and expanded until it was tangible, making her skin tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck rise.

Her shoulders tensed, her spine locking for a moment.

Instinctively, she knew she was no longer alone in the woods.

Slowly, tentatively, heart thudding, she turned her head towards the trees opposite the rocky gully.

A twig snapped in the woods and she jumped, twitching around to stare frantically into the trees. It was almost pitch black, with no moon visible behind the patchy blanket of cloud above, and only the fact that she wasn’t far from the cabin had allowed her to see well enough to reach the rock.

Fear filled her and her mind went blank.

Absurd scenarios crashed through her a moment later: was Jake somehow here? Had he actually followed her? Was he standing out there waiting to get back at her for leaving him?

Panic overwhelmed all rational thought for a wild moment and she scrabbled off the rock in a blind haze, lost her footing in the dark, and tipped backwards into the empty air of the river gully behind her with a scream.

Something rushed at her out of the trees with a snarl, dark and powerful, and she screamed as it collided with her. She found herself yanked backwards, a limb wrapped around her torso as the pair of them hurtled back towards the river bank, where she was set down on the rock as carefully as though she were a china doll.

Gasping for breath, heartbeat pounding in her ears above the returning roar of the water behind her, she stared and stared at what sat before her on the path.

“What the fuck?” she croaked as her brain finally processed what it was seeing.

In a patch of soft light cast from the kitchen window of the nearby cabin, one of the few with no blinds, sat a monstrous creature. With the head like that of a wolf, it was easily the size of a bear, but its limbs were long and too awkward for the way it was sitting like a dog on its haunches. Its forepaws were more like hands, with longer, dexterous looking fingers which each ended in onyx talons. Golden eyes blinked out of the dark at her, reflecting the light from the cabin like burnished bronze.

When she continued to stare in mute shock, the creature’s lupine ears swivelled back and it whined — no, whimpered — and shuffled back a few inches, hunched and with its head lowered.

It was the picture of submission but all she could think was that she’d hit her head and was hallucinating. Her breath came in short, shallow rasps and tears blurred her eyes as she searched the back of her head for a wound that wasn’t there.

“What the fuck?” she said again, and the wolf-creature whimpered again, this time lowering its body all the way to the ground and dropping its nose to its front paws. Behind it on the gravel path, a long, thick tail beat back and forth. It was still huge though, easily seven feet long, not counting the tail.

Odessa had never owned a dog, but she knew an attempt at complete submission when she saw one.

“You saved me,” she whispered, and its ears pricked up. Its head lifted too, just a little, and it whined again and then… nodded?

“What the hell are you?” she asked and slowly, the creature began to sit up. It cocked its head to one side a little, as if to ask ‘isn’t it obvious?’.

“Can you… understand me?” she faltered.

Again, tentatively, the creature bowed its head once.

Odessa shook her head and tried to stand again, though her knees felt watery and feeble, and her chest was tight from the lingering panic.

The creature whined and took half a pace towards her, still on all fours, but it stopped when she reeled away with her hands out. As if that could ward off something the size of a fucking bear.

“Stay…” she gasped, backing away.

The not-wolf lowered its head again and let out a long, low whine that was more like a mournful groan than anything.

Her fragile bravery shattered and she staggered down the path to the cabin without looking back, slamming the door shut and ramming the locks home. She backed away from the door as if it might burst inwards off its hinges in a shower of splinters and kindling to reveal a horror-movie creature standing there with claws dripping, but nothing happened. For almost a quarter of an hour, she stood there, shaking and staring at the wooden door, but the trees beyond were silent, and the cabin remained still and peaceful.

Without making any inroads into her supper, she headed for the bathroom and stood trembling under the searing hot jet of the shower until the water ran cold, and then went to bed.

___

*hides and sweats nervously*

Next --->

I hope you’ll consider reblogging as well as leaving a like, and if you’re excited about it, you can always let me know with a comment and/or an ask. Take care, and I hope you have a lovely day/night wherever you are, and whenever you read this.

| Masterlist | Ko-fi (tip jar)

[apinklion01]

Hallway of Possibilities

Middle of Somewhere

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@amorpho

Being the oldest sibling wasn’t the greatest thing in the world. Never had it felt more obvious the whole 40 hours Easton had driven between Amity Park and a town in the middle of Oregon called Gravity Falls.

Not nonstop of course. While Wes was in a hurry to get there to meet his online friend, he needed to rest and sleep off the stiffness in his arms. Telekinesis could only help drive the SUV so far, and Easton was grateful that Kyle decided to come along since the other had a driver’s license.

The SUV trailed along a dusty road in the middle of a large expanse of trees. Aside from a few deer and a bear, there wasn’t a change in scenery the past few miles.

“Kyle, how much longer until we get close to the Gravity Falls?” He asked his younger brother.

“Hmm? Oh, it’s supposed to appear really soon.”

“How soon?” Wes asked from behind Easton.

“Riiiight about… now.” Kyle pointed a finger to the right. At first Easton just saw a water tower with what looked like a muffin graffitied on it. It wasn’t much of a landmark.

“East, pull over,” Wes muttered.

“Why?”

“Just do it!”

He pulled over and then he saw the town.

It was in a massive crater that stretched for at least a hundred miles. Two towering ridges overlooked the place, both with a long crack as if someone struck out a piece with an ax. A railway connected both ends, making it look like the crack was caused by a UFO. The one on the right had a huge waterfall that led to a lake with a small island in the center. Closer to the middle the town sprawled out, with a river running off into the distance.

There was only one word the three brothers could say: “Whoa…”

“...How deep do you think that lake is?” Kyle asked.

“Don’t know,” Easton said. “Hey Wes, you might want to give your friend a message and ask what part of town he’s in.”

“On it,” he answered, taking a photo of the view before sending a text message. A small noise emitted from Wes’ phone a minute later. “Alright, Dipper says he’s over on the west side of town. Just keep driving to the town until you hit the fork with a sign about the Mystery Shack.”

“The Mystery Shack? That sounds wild,” Kyle said.

“Sounds like a place for tourists,” Easton added, driving the car back on the road.

“I think it is?” Wes shrugged. “He talks a lot about how one of his uncles used to own the place. There’s a lot of rumors about Gravity Falls having weird or supernatural sightings online.”

“Doubt that it’s actually true,” he muttered to himself.

If Easton had placed a bet on his words from earlier, he would’ve lost.

The SUV got a flat tire, and with a small wifi connection, Kyle had run up ahead to get to the Mystery Shack for some help. Easton and Wes stayed behind in case someone drove along.

Both Wes and him looked at their dad’s now totaled SUV in shock and horror. It was squished like an empty soda can, large hand markings covering the roof. Their suitcases lay abandoned nearby, as if whatever giant crushed the car gave them only a slight bit of mercy and didn’t destroy their clothes.

“Shit,” Wes hissed.

“Dad’s going to be so pissed,” Easton regretfully agreed with him, clenching onto his blue cap. “No mechanic’s gonna fix it up for cheap, unless we try using one of dad’s credit cards.”

“Are you crazy? If we use it in the middle of Oregon, dad’s gonna find out we were out of the house. He’ll ground me for the rest of summer!”

“You sort of set yourself up for something like this to happen,” he pointed out. “You could’ve just waited for dad to come back so he could’ve taken you.”

“Yeah, I know, I made another reckless mistake!” He yelled. Both brothers looked at each other dead in the eye. But instead of trying to fight, Wes turned away and kicked the ground. “Now it looks like we’re stuck in this town until we find a way back.”

Easton pinched his nose, took a long sigh, and placed a gentle hand on his youngest brother’s shoulder. “I know… I just got worried thinking what could’ve happened if you were still inside... If we're lucky we can find some way to make up some story dad will buy.”

Wes looked at him quietly. “Like that time when Technus tried taking over the bus system and I was inside?”

He gave a small chuckle. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Oh shit,” an unfamiliar voice said.

The both of them turned their head as a golf cart pulled over a short walk ahead of them. Inside were three people: Kyle, a redhead around Easton’s age with a blue cap with a pine tree and flannel clothes, and a girl around Wes’ age with a pink sweater, bright cyan shorts, and long blue socks.

“I thought you said that your car just had a flat tire,” the redhead said to Kyle, who pushed aside their bangs to see the wreckage better.

“Dudes, did you try moving the car to the shack?” They asked them.

“We didn’t-” Wes started before Easton gave his shoulder a nudge. “Yeah, we just didn’t expect it to roll that far down," he told his brother.

The forest near the road rested on a slight incline, so while it wasn’t hard to believe it veered downhill, it didn’t look like that was the cause of the damage.

“I’m pretty sure old man MccGucket or Grunkle Ford could fix it up if we gave him a call,” the other teen answered. “Hmm, that ain’t a bad idea, Mabel,” the redhead said, nodding along to the suggestion.

“Wait, your name’s Mabel?” Wes asked. “Is your brother by chance-”

“Dipper? Ohhhh, you must be that guy he was crazy about meeting!”

“Yeah, where is he!?”

“Back at the Shack. The minute your brother came in and told us about the car, he ran up to clean his room. I tried telling him the whole week he should’ve done it sooner, but oh well.”

“Oh yeah, he’s super psyched to meet you too,” the redhead agreed.

“Well then what are we waiting for, let’s go!” Wes said. The three brothers grabbed their suitcases and got inside the golf cart. Easton sat in between Wes and Kyle, well aware of how strong the Cain instinct could be at times.

“What’s your name?” The redhead young adult asked while she drove the cart.

“Easton,” he answered.

“Easton? Pretty weird name, but I’ve heard weirder. Mine’s Wendy.”

“You guys look like you could be related,” Mabel commented.

“Last time I checked, no Weston lived in Gravity Falls,” Wes answered.

“Wait, your guy’s last name is Weston?” Mabel giggled.

“Hey, none of us picked out our last names,” Wes grumbled.

“If we did, it would’ve been way less punny,” Kyle agreed. “Or maybe more weird, who knows.”

“Yeah, what he said.”

“Huh, congrats Mabel,” Easton said in surprise. “I think that’s one of the few times they’ve agreed on something a stranger they just met said to them.”

“I do have a way with people!” Mabel said. “Unlike Dipper, he’s more people shy than I am.”

“I get that, Wes is pretty much the same.”

“Am not!” Wes complained.

“Nah, you give off the same Dipper vibes, no escaping it now,” Wendy laughed.

Wes moaned, clamping his hands onto his face to avoid the others from seeing his embarrassment.

[bm-americas]

21st Century Traditional: Beaded Tipi, 2010, Brooklyn Museum: Arts of the Americas

This model tipi is described in the artist's own words: Those old decorated tipis came to people in visions. Each one had its own story, born out of that person's space and time. My tipi is a 21st Century vision. Our elders living today didn't fight in the Indian wars, they fought in Viet Nam. Our Indian kids living today don't play much with rawhide gaming wheels, they play with X-boxes. When men and women sing around the drum, more than likely their drum stick is made out of PVC pipe and a wireless microphone transmits their voices through loudspeakers. Grandmothers and grandfathers have managed to give us mothers and fathers non-tangibles that are at the heart of what it is to be Indian, and in my case, Kiowa. It is our job to pass those intangibles down to our children. The tools we use to pass those along...for me, those are just tools. I have aligned the images on this tipi starting at the doorway, which faces east. A mother and father stand around the door proudly holding their small children; purposefully I have dressed all of the figures in a mixture of traditional and 21st Century clothing. Moving left, (around the tipi cover) the women occupy the southern side of the tipi: a grandmother in traditional clothing watching a child, a mother in Black Leggings dance clothing walking with her daughter in shorts and a t-shirt, an elderly woman in a Gourd Dance shawl holding an umbrella and wearing iconic high heels. On the western side, the drum occupies the space, men in [sic] obviously in today's world using today's technology to sing songs that are literally timeless. Continuing to move left, the men occupy the northern side of the tipi. A Gourd Dancer with a rockabilly haircut, a Viet Nam vet shaking the hand of a new Army recruit, an Oklahoma Grandpa with a little boy. Above the figures is the sky/myth world: the morning star and the new moon around the eastern doorway, the setting sun at the western side. Spiderwoman and her husband, Stony Road rest above; those great Kiowa beings that survived the flood, before Saynday brought us into this world. On the southern side, the Bear Rock or Devil's Tower stands with the 7 Kiowa Star Girls above (Pleiades). This was a story I grew up hearing many times. Having heard the story two ways with both Pleiades and the Big Dipper being named as the Star Girls, I have included the Big Dipper on the opposite side (as it stands in the night sky). And crazy old Saynday leaves his hand print in the constellation, Orion. A group of buffalo runs across the top of the northern side, their medicine being called upon for many things, a soldier's needs especially. This tipi is my vision then of a 21st Century Traditional-of that passing of intangibles through one generation into the next through dance, ceremony, myth, history, family and community values. These things have helped to make me into the Kiowa that I am. I pray for guidance to pass these most precious things onto my children. Size: includes base: 46 x 29 x 32 1/2 in. (116.8 x 73.7 x 82.6 cm) Medium: Brain tanned deer hide, charlotte cut glass beads, seed beads, bugle beads, glass beads, sterling silver beads, pearls, shell, raw diamonds, hand stamped sterling silver, hand stamped copper, cotton cloth, nylon "sinew" rope, pine, poplar, bubinga

https://www.brooklynmuseum.org/opencollection/objects/185557

[asterkiss]

WHAT A CATCH!: CHAPTER 8

Pairing: Bill/Mabel Synopsis: Mabel was a mermaid who didn't ask for much. In fact, all she pretty much wanted from her soulmate was a romantic first meeting where he would sweep her off her fins. Unfortunately, fate had other plans. Her soulmate didn't so much sweep her off her fins as he trapped her in a fish net. [Read on AO3 here]

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |  Chapter 7 | Chapter 8  | Chapter 9 |  Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 |

CHAPTER 8: DEJA VU

Dipper had made a mistake.

The cervitaur bit down on his tongue to prevent any further sounds of pain escaping as the bear trap clamped tightly around one of his rear hooves, the steel spikes sinking further into the skin with each movement. He'd been trying to spy on the Hunters to gain further information on them despite Stanford's warning and was now paying the price.

Dammit, what was he supposed to do!? He didn't have super strength like Wendy, or shapeshifting abilities like Soos. Heck, even Pacifica could try hypnotising any Hunter that came along to let her go! What did he have? Oh yeah, the power to make weeds grow.

(Yeah, Yeah, he knew the whole spiel that give it a few years and his powers would grow and he'd be really awesome and powerful. Whatever. It sucked).

Well, plants weren't going to help him here, were they?

'Argh!' he released an aggravated groan, forgetting for a moment the need for quiet.

And that's when the Hunter stepped in.

'Well, well, well,' he leered, voice dripping with amusement. 'What do we have here, hmm?'

Dipper felt his heart leap into his throat as he found himself watching the embodiment of death approaching from the treeline. That was a pretty large rifle gun slung around his shoulders there.

Biting back his fear, he lowered his head with a glower, hoping his antlers added to the intimidation. 'A lot of regret if you come any closer.'

The Hunter grinned. 'Ya bark worse than your bite?'

The cervitaur felt a primal urge raising in his throat as he growled. This guy. He hated him. He loathed him. He wanted to kick him in the head and see if he was still smiling then. The Hunter never broke eye contact as he knelt down, lifting his pants to reveal a hunting knife strapped to his leg. He pulled it out, flipping it around in his knife as he stood back to his full attention.

Dipper's heart rate raced.

'What, not gonna use your big ol' gun?' he asked, stalling for time as he desperately tried to think of something. Anything. He'd tried yanking his hoof free several times since the guy showed up but nothing worked!

'I'm not cheap like that,' the blond gentleman retorted. 'No fun in shooting a trapped prey.' He ran a finger along the blade of his knife deliberately, smirking. 'I like to earn my kills.'

This guy was sick. He raised his hands into fists. He'd never won a physical fight in his life but hey maybe today will be his lucky shot? 'Oh yeah, just try it!

The Hunter's smirk waned slightly, his gaze scouring his face as if searching for... something.

But what it was, Dipper didn't know.

>

>

Bill was having the weirdest déjà vu right now. It had been present since the first moment he saw this deer, but now as the brat stared at him so determined whilst so scared at the same time the feeling overwhelmed him.

And it clicked.

They had the same eyes.

'Ya gotta be kidding me,' he muttered.

The deer frowned.

Bill growled, running a hand through his hair in frustration. So what if this kid had the same eyes as the mermaid? That didn't mean jack anything. So what if they most likely related? Why did he care? He didn't. Not one bit.

...So why the hell had all his motivation to kill this kid gone away?

'What's wrong with you?'

Bill glanced towards the cervitaur who was watching him cautiously. Stupid brat. 'I'm having a moment here, do you mind?'

'Since I'm trapped in your inhumane trap, yes I do mind!' he snapped back. 'You Hunters are vile intruders on our homeland, who are you to make demands?'

Bill glared. He hated this guy. He should kill him. He was gonna do it. Tightening his grip on the knife he strode towards the kid. Immediately the boy tensed, raising his fists once again as his front hooves stomped the ground angrily. Honestly it was pitiful how much of a fight he put up, Bill easily avoided his attempts of attack before shoving the blade of the knife against his throat. Oh look at that, he could see the first few words of his soulmate beginning at his collarbone. The fear in the boy's eyes was palpable as Bill exhaled heavily, eyes a glower and all earlier traces of playfulness lost.

'Y'know, you magical creatures are really staring to piss me off,' he muttered darkly. 'First the mermaid, and then-'

'Stay the hell away from Mabel,' the cervitaur spat, the fear in his eyes suddenly eclipsed by an overwhelming anger and protectiveness. He didn't even seem to note that his erratic movements caused the blade to nick his skin.

...So Mabel was her name.

'You should be telling her that,' he replied evenly. She was the one who had sought him out repeatedly last year. Sure, he'd crossed paths with her recently but that was pure chance. He wasn't the type who went stalking is "soul mate" on a whim.

'I don't care what you said to her when you first met, there's no way you can be her soulmate. Mabel's way too good for a vile murder like you!' he spat out, face red with rage and eyes filled with pure hatred. 'Go back to where you came from and leave us alone!'

Something about this kid really grated on his nerves. So much so that Bill wanted to mess with him.

So he did.

'And what if I don't?' he replied coyly, arching an eyebrow. 'Your dear Mabel is the one who always seeks me out. Who knows, maybe I'll entertain her next time and take her out on a date. We could get sushi.'

Bill narrowly avoided being violently head butted as the boy swore and cursed at him with a ferocity that was almost impressive for a twiggy thing like him. He was lucky he hadn't ripped open his throat on Bill's knife there.

Heh.

He'd let him live for now. He was too entertaining to put down so quickly.

At least, he told himself that was the reason why he walked away. It wasn't as if those similar green eyes staring up at him made him feel hesitant about anything.

He was so good at lying that he even believed himself.