#it’s also the Stanford pines drip

[oopsarboreal]

guess who bought a trench coooat

[triangle-tumor-manifesto]

My nickname is Silver Cipher.

I am 19 years old, and I’ve been diagnosed with Stage 4 Signet Ring Cell Adenocarcinoma of the Appendix. My dream is to have Alex Hirsch sign my cancer journal.

Gravity Falls has been a huge help since the release of The Book of Bill, and has been a huge comfort to me during my cancer fight. It has helped me emotionally more than I can express. The idea came from one of my friends, who drove to meet me before even knowing my name. They suggested I try to get a signature from Alex Hirsch. This is just a brief summary of my story that I would love to share with you all.

I meant for this to be an incredibly put-together message, but “Nothing in life makes sense, so you might as well make nonsense!”

Ford’s fight with Bill hits so goddamn hard. Chemo has just carpet-bombed my memory to the point where I completely black-out at times. During my 72-hour straight IV drip, I wake up to finding stuff I’ve done that I would NEVER do. I wrote things that I would never write. I drew things that I would never ever draw. The most notable drawings I have done are focused around the Eye of Providence and are surrounded—from top to bottom—by code I am still deciphering. This is terrifying to me and makes me feel like a spectator in my own body. Every single time it happens, it always takes me off guard no matter how prepared I think I am…

Chemo Me VS Regular Me Art (think you can figure out which is which??? -△)

However, the reason why I’m not quite as paralyzed with fear as I was is that whenever shit hits the fan, as embarrassing as it is to admit, to comfort myself I think about Stanford Pines. I think about how at the end of a long and hard battle with something indescribably wicked, he learned to trust people and got the support he needed. The path he treaded was full of pain, blood, and tears but he made it. The survival rate for my stage of cancer is catastrophically low on paper, but 6 is my lucky number. You can guess the reason, or I seriously question how you got into Gravity Falls in the first place!

I live and breathe this show, I live and breathe what Stanford Pines has gone through. I just need to make it past Weirdmageddon.

We appendix cancer patients have this crazy surgery which is known in the medical community as the “Mother of All Surgeries.” Most surgeons refuse to attempt it because of a lack of proven studies due to how few of us there are and how little research there is. The small sample size often causes it to be considered a crazy borderline pseudoscience! But it works. I know this because every Appendix Cancer survivor I met at our Pseudomyxoma peritonei (it’s shortened to PMP) Pals group introduces themself and then says that they owe their new lengthened life to as I like to put it, “Our Surgeon Soulmate”. This is my Weirdmaggedon.

HIPEC (the aforementioned surgery, Hyperthermic intraperitoneal chemotherapy) involves cutting open the sternum to the groin, scooping out every single organ that isn’t necessary for survival, filling the space with liquid chemo, and then sloshing you around a little on the table so it all sets in (like a little cancer smoothie). Then they’ll drain it all out, sew you up, and wake you up. (I drew Ford doing it while on chemo—you can see it in the Imgur link-I also have zero memories of this, and it's hilarious-you gotta laugh at the pain or you will cry) The only way to relieve the crippling pain besides exceeding a survivable dose of painkiller is to get up. You have to get up and walk—I mean laps around the ICU. I’ve done it. The laps at least. All the hundred-some people at the conference have. It hurts like crazy but the only way to get better is to fight through it. It's either fight or die.

Welp! There’s your summary of puppet hour with Silver, and my own personal metal plate.

I have the proof to back this up, as I have been living with this since my diagnosis in March. Knowing all of you, some of you may have taken “Trust No One!” to heart, which is legitimate for a post like this. This was just a brief summary of my story that I would love to share with you all. I've censored my personal information, and pictures I'm sending, as well as my face and my father's face. I'm also adding some of the art that I've done on chemo.

PROOF: https://imgur.com/a/ljb98NL

Attached is all the preliminary proof I’m willing to let anybody and everybody see. It’s a mix of identity-confirming photos, people I care about, art that I made while on chemo to help get me through it, proof of my hospital stays and pictures of me during hospital chemo, as well as a picture of myself on chemo simply so you can see how much it takes out of me from those early on photos of me from my tumor removal surgery to today. That was round six. Now I’m in the middle of round twelve: my last one. Before my final battle with Cipher, I’m hoping I can get my personal chemo Journal signed by Hirsch, at the very least. And if the guy wants to join the stream and hear my pretty decent Ford impression, well…who am I to complain? Alex if you're reading this, even if you can’t sign my book, I’d love for you to read the journal entry I wrote addressed to you. I sent my friend Alia to NYCC with a cut-out journal page for you to sign, with this letter to be read, but it didn’t end up working out. Even so, it would mean so much to me if it made it to you somehow.

Hopefully, this gets a shitload of views and reposts that find their way to Alex. As a bonus (some of you are going to adore this) I am going to link a Twitch fundraiser for Appendix Cancer in the post as well, and do a live stream of an ENTIRE reading of a Mystery Fanfic with me as Ford and an absolutely amazing Bill impersonator- @weasel!!! @_<;;! I bet you are so curious, knowing this server. “Come on Fordsy, don’t you want to take my hand? Just say the word!”

Art done by @🐔mother hen goblin🐔

We had this art piece made to promote the stream! Heed the warnings! Also, depending on the VA's endurance, I will also host an open mic for people to share their love of Gravity Falls and their reasoning for helping me.

The Twitch stream will begin on △ 10/26/2024 6:00PM EST.

△ If you cannot make this-never fear! It will all be recorded for your future viewing pleasure. This exact time is subject to change, please check back the day of to make sure that this stays the same.

Twitch Stream Link: triangle_tumor - Twitch

Donation Link: https://pmppals.net/silvers-triangle-tumor/…

I hope to see as many of you as possible present in the stream. This fanfiction means so much to so many of us. Both Bill and Ford's relationship in canon and especially in this fic encapsulates the visceral horror, suffering, and trauma that comes with going through chemo and beating the ⭐⚡#💀＄out of the triangle tumor. I am also getting OFFICIALLY endorsed by r/Gravity Falls as well as PMP Pals (An Official Appendix Cancer Organization) for this fundraiser.

I cannot tell you how absolutely hyped I am for everything going down.

Pleasepleaseplease join the stream if you can, and for SURE blow up this Reddit post! Thank you all so much for being a part of this and helping me through my fight.

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Silver Cipher △

P.S. FUCK Cancer

SOCIALS/OFFICIAL ACCOUNTS

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Triangletumor

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/triangletumormanifesto/?next=%2F

Twitch: https://www.twitch.tv/triangle_tumor

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@TriangleTumorManifesto

[xxkiller-muffinxx]

Eye to Eye

Pt 1

The encounter

1714 words

Alright chat let’s do this,

I had one semi completed one but then I needed cute dividers so it deleted itself

Also creds to @sister-lucifer for the dividers.

I know I know I know, it’s pretty crazy right? Another bill cipher’s daughter fic, not surprising. However it’s bill ford and it’s silly.

This godforsaken fanfiction was helped by my friend and for legal reasons alibi @dandelion-tea7 so yeah. With all the love I can muster thank you.

Also, side note yes this is a test run for my last post :3

Anyways let’s get to the bit

Stanford was never one to want children.

In fact the very idea perturbed him to an acceeded extent. Children of his running around his lab and ruining the space with glitter and or snot, it was revolting to say the least. His great niece and nephew were enough children. Particularly with what’s been going on for the past 30 years, Him getting trapped in the portal and leaving his child to be raised by…

Stanley.

That was the worst punishment of all in his opinion.

However, children are good for a few things: Memories, smiles, and laughter, sure the occasional adorableness but his children would probably be too focused on school work to be “cute.” He’d be sure of it. He didn’t want kids though, never has never will.

Yet here he was, discussing it with 14 year old Mabel Pines.

“Awe! Why not?! Kids are adorable, sweet, and adorable!” Mabel’s high pitched voice squealed at him, causing Ford’s ears to hum uncomfortably.

Stanford rolled his eyes at her young charm. He always thought she burned brighter as a star. “Mabel, i work too much to give children the time of day, for god's sakes I barely see you two!” He cut up some carrots to put in a soup he’s working on. He’s very proud of himself.

Dipped groaned softly covering his ears. Poor puberty was eating that boy away faster than termites in a food littered apartment. “Mabel, can you stop talking about Grunkle ford having kids? Besides, he's too old!”

“Precisely, Dipper, my boy!”

Mabel pouted, pulling her knees up to her chest while looking over at Dipper. “So? What if college was an exciting ti-“

Dipper let out a high pitched wail. Silencing Mabel almost immediately. Stanford laughed heartily, a part of him enjoying the banter despite how improbable the conversation was. College? Exciting? Hardly. Learning about the the brain's response to psychological torture was quite invigorating, however.

A familiar voice piped up. “Oh no, are we talking about Sixer’s love life again?” Stanley walked in holding a blender. He seemed oddly cheerful today, his eyes sparkling with the same mischief he had as a child.

Ford turned to him curiously. His eyes glancing at the blender, old torn up pieces of plastic in the bowl connected, Stanford looked back up at Ford. “Why?”

“Why not?”

“But why?”

“Why not?”

“Stanley.” Stanford groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose while Stanley softly chortled. Mabel gasped, jogging over to interrogate him.*

Mabel grabbed onto the side of the counter pulling herself higher to look at the old blender. “Is that going to be the blender squirrel?!” Mabel shrieked, reaching for it, Stanley pulled away.

Dipper raised a questioning brow. “Blender…squirrel?”

Stanley rolled his eyes in offense, was Dipper, Little Dipper really judging him? “Alright, yeah, Squirrel blender, it was Mabel’s idea. I mean I don’t know it’ll be fun to see someone try to understand how it works.” Stanley looked at it, fixing all the gross chipped pieces.

Dipped sighed, he’d never understand his Sister and His Grunkle’s brains when they’re choosing such weird ways to bond. He didn’t mind it though. “Sure, a squirrel blender will be great!” He dripped with sarcasm.

Stanford fixed his glasses before turning to Stanley. “Stanley, come try this.” He lifted a spoon of carrot soup to his mouth. Stanley would always speak his mind, so he continued to count on it.

The moment Stanley smelled it he dropped it to the ground. Ford’s face falls flat. Stanley sputters for a few moments before coughing and grimacing. “You trying to poison me Sixer?!”

“It’s just carrot soup-“

“It’s rabbit shi-“

“Woah!” Dipper suddenly jumped out of his chair as he saw something outside. “I saw something!” Dipper got out of his chair while Mabel gasped “what?! I wanna see!” She quickly followed. Stanley sighed as the kids ran out. Turning to Ford. “Not it.”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “Are you a child.” Ford said with a soft affectionate laugh. Stanley pouts a finger on his nose.

“Nose goes.”

“I hate you.

-~-~-~-~-~

The forest air was warm and cozy like a blanket on the warm bed with its holder squished between. Ford sighed happily at the familiarity of it all. For the first time since he actually came home, he felt at home.

Dipper wrote in his own journal, walking only but a few feet ahead. Mabel very happily skipped along. So far ahead seemed like pleasant searching for the creature that caught Dipper’s eye.

Dipper seemed a bit stiff so Ford placed a soothing hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” He’d ask voice full of care and warmth.

Dipper glanced up at his grunkle Ford. With a hint of familiar admiration to the older male. “Hm? Oh…uh…yeah.” he coughed softly. He wrote things quickly in his journal. As if trying to fill it with every last thing he thought.

Ford raised an eyebrow at this and sighed “Dipper you may be a fast thinker, but it helps if the ideas were clearer and more concise. Try slowing down and enjoying the moment?” Ford said with a soft smile on his face.

Despite the urge to keep writing, Dipper reluctantly put the journal down. “Youre right Grunkle Ford…” Dipper muttered earning an elbow in the side from his twin. He looked at her and elbowed back. Soon they were play fighting all over again.

The humor in their sibling rivalry caused Ford to let out a laugh. “Alright- alright that's-” A twig snaps behind them.

Ford spins around gun already ready to be pulled. Dipper and Mabel stare for a moment in the same direction. Ford looks down to see if there's any sign of life. There's a torn piece of fabric on a tree. The old man approaches it.

“Strange.” He mutters. Grabbing the fabric and rubbing it between his fingers. A leaf falls in front of him, followed by soft tree rustling. He waves the kids back further, looking up.

“…hello? Who's there? I know you're up there!” he shouts in a stern voice. Causing even Dipper to flinch. Mabel looks up gasping softly.

She runs to the tree earning a yelp from her brother. “Mabel wait-” he reaches for her arm but falls flat on his face instead. Ford looks down at Mabel, a minor glare for having disobeyed him. “Its a girl!” Mabel points. “Its a teenage girl!”

Ford raised an eyebrow. “How do you-”

“Just look!” Mabel grabbed a stick, climbing on top of Ford’s shoulders really quickly (his back would regret that later.) she poked whoever was in the tree.

There's a soft “ow” from in the tree.

Ford’s eyes widen taking the stick from Mabel. “Come out.” he said a little softer as to not startle her. The girl, fed up, grabbed the stick and threw it away. “Come on, you have to come down at some point.”

Stanford had to surpress an eyeroll at the quiet “Nuh uh.” from the tree.

“Yuh huh, now get down!” there was a tearing sound from the tree. “Or gravity will force you.” The girl struggled to hold herself up.

“Well I guess that's why everyone calls this place gravity fa-” The twig gives way under her, sending her crashing to the ground, it would be devastating if only shed actually hit the ground.

Mabel watched in awe as the girl hovered in the air. “WOAH!” She exclaimed before Dipper pulled her away. Ford furrowed his large brows stepping closer. “Fascinating…”

The mystery girl opened her eyes looking up at Ford. His eyes widened the moment he saw it. Not two, but three eyes on her face, one of the in the dead center of her forehead that glistened an uncomfortably familiar yellow.

Ford glared slightly. “Who are you.” The girl flinched, finally succumbing to gravity’s tricks and crashing down into the mud. She groaned in pain putting up her hands.

She closed her third eye. “Hey listen, I didn't mean any harm…i just-” She frowned looking away, as if thinking. “Which twin are you?” She asked the man standing over her.

“Which twin?” Ford tilted his head to the side, glaring even harder. “Whats your name first.”

The girl seemed to curse softly. “…uh…(Y/N)…”

“Where are your parents.” He steps closer slowly. His imposing figure getting more and more intimidating as he grew near.

(Y/N) frowned standing up and dusting herself off while backing up. “Well that's actually funny you say that! Because they are-” she was cut off by a tree hitting her back.

“Answer me.” Ford said with a soft huff. He's fed up with lies. He's worried this girl is somehow related to demon they killed two years ago. That yellow eye all two familiar.

They were up close when the girl finally decided to speak, “Stanford right? Well uh-” She flinched when he raised an eyebrow, she knew she probably shouldn't have said his name when she seems to be a stranger.

Theirs a silence that passes, followed by a gulp from the girl. “…if you're Stanford pines…then…Oh jeez this is weird-” She squeezes her hands together. “…im Bill cipher’s kid-”

There it is, he's never whipped out his gun so fast. The girl shrieked “WAIT WAIT WAIT!”

“WHY SHOULD I WAIT WHEN YOURD THE VERY THING IVE WORKED YEARS TO DESTROY!” Ford yelled back looking back at the kids. “Kids close your eyes this is gonna get messy.”

“NO WAIT IM HALF HUMAN!” (Y/N) screamed bloody murder putting her hands up. Ford lowered the gun while the kids tilted her head.

Dipper stepped closer “half human? Like Bill-” Mabel stepped up to interrupt him. “How is that possible? Does he even have-” Ford put his hand up to silence them.

“What do you mean? You're half human? Who's your other parent?” He asks pushing the gun into her neck. She gagged softly grabbing the barrel. Tears pricked her eyes.

“You?”

Ford’s world shattered in that moment, silence broke out and a million questions flew through his head. He'd never danced Bill’s devil’s tango. Nor has the thought passes. So how could this happen? What in the world was going on?

He didn't know, but he was determined to find out.

(Not edited or revised)

[cablyunkataplum]

Stanford Filbrick Pines

Words: 4,524

Summary: He was so small next to him, he could fit in the palm of his two-dimensional hand and peel millimeter layer by millimeter layer to do whatever he wanted with the raw materials and waste. Previous enjoyment, at this moment repulsion for what is felt.

Written Curse: What can I say, saw someone suggesting it on Tiktok and I did it, Descriptions of insanity and more insanity, suicidal behavior, manipulation, paranoia, kind of religious trauma, self-harm (thoughts and action) depictions, and maybe more sensitive topics, please be aware, MDNI. it's kind of different from what I'm used to write in some aspects but I enjoyed iy Seeeeeee yaaaaaa darlings!

Versión original-español

I walked through the mists of a gloomy limbo… If such a vague description makes sense, I paid attention to every step I took but I didn't feel it, almost as if it were a dream until my attention it was redirected, something was heard in the distance and I wondered what it could be. It carried with it a sinister air, perverse dyes that dripped phlegmatically, the forbidden, the temptation, the sin that, as its passage, seduced me to approach, thus, little by little, it was not only an unusual song but also a particular smell, a sensation that made one's skin crawl but as everything here was far from comprehending.

Time was distorted and my mind fell into a spiral that I didn't even know I had entered until seeing me in a dreary reflection a realization revealed, it was me.

That smell, that sound, everything… It was nothing more than my own body, that empty and rotten container that wanders aimlessly waiting for an end but even if I succumbed to the clutches of mortality, I know that my corpse would be nothing more than poison for this earth that now curses my existence. I beg for mercy even if I am not deserving and as a heretic I receive cruel punishment that lurks in the depths of my being, which from the beginning eats away at me, what led me to this state.

A simple act like the sliding of curtains felt so treacherous, he was turning his back on him and leaving him adrift. He deserves it, after all he did it was absurd that he thought he would receive any defense from him. He placed the reminder of the freshly made wound in the trash and tried to fall asleep but at no time did he blink, the minutes passed ignorantly to his situation and emotions so overwhelming that they seemed to mock without decorum. He had found a motivation that vanished at the same speed with which it arrived, he had to find another goal, a purpose, something that would give him what he had always longed for.

The days passed without anything remarkable, a blind and tired routine between corridors, living rooms and his bedroom with the irregular change of going to the library or chatting with his roommate, with whom he shared certain hobbies. He was about convincing that he enjoyed it, that despite being an unexpected result, he could take advantage of it and prove to himself that others were wrong, that he was better.

When he made the decision to live in Gravity Falls, it was as if that little flame struggled to remain incandescent and wanted to get bigger. It could be taken as an escape from home in a certain way, miles and miles away from his parents which doesn't make much difference from what it was in Backupsmore.

Everything was different, a new life that he would not let anything or anyone spoil. And so it was for quite some time, there was no day or night in which he did not find something fascinating, a distraction and a temporary relief to his thoughts that dejected him the most, but then, like a rose, it began to wither and the petals fell. Leaving a voracious appetite again.

And what happened when the snake approached him? He fell for the deception. So desperate for a shred of recognition, acceptance… And what person could resist a being greater than their own existence? It was an honor to be the favorite of such a sublime presence, a powerful being who did respond to his prayers, to his doubts, where he believed he was walking on the same floor as this one and not below as he was for so many years with his kind, he was finally an equal.

A nosedive into veneration.

The night was paler than the moon itself, its emanations were blunderbussed as they passed through the stained-glass windows with motifs that I distributed with my own free will throughout my cabin. Immersed in my inscriptions, Bill prowled in the same space and chatted about things that I didn't pay enough attention to since I was used to his actions. When I finished my last stroke I placed the pen aside and closed the bottle of ink to let it rest and therefore dry the contents of the page.

"Hey, Sixer" I turned my head and the first thing my eyes met was the triangle reflecting my appearance, I raised my eyebrow until he continued "Look, someone with science of humor" he laughed to return to his color, he snapped his fingers and pointed at me "Did you understand my pun?", "Of course I did, It's a simple enough thing not to" I adjusted my glasses before closing my journal, getting up from my chair and walking over to put it on the shelf next to the other books in my collection.

"You demean yourself a lot, don't you think? Give yourself some credit" he turned around as he moved forward with me, "I do credit myself but I know when things are easy, Bill" I rolled my eyes and left the room, on the stairs he was behind me "That's because you're very intelligent and perceptive, not everyone would have understood it the first time or the second" At these words I smiled but not for much since the day had exhausted me enough to use my muscles. The cabin was as lonely as the day it was finished, on one hand it was reassuring not to have to deal with those noises resulting from annoying habits of other people but on the other hand I couldn't help but feel more lonely… at least I had Bill by my side, even if I got desperate but very rarely. Maybe I should make a statistic about that.

"It's better as you are if you ask me," I heard his voice again but this time I didn't look at him, I went down step by step until I finally reached the floor. "What are you talking about?" I really had no idea, "Nobody deserves you, Ford" that confession intrigued me now in the kitchen where I didn't turn on the light bulb and only opened one of the drawers in the cupboard for a glass. "I mean, just look at you, six fingers; attractive, intelligent, funny, organized. You're out of their league, much better than all of them" he stood in my field of vision and crossed his arms, "And I doubt very much that you would settle for that anyway".

The circumstances that led to such a fatal encounter…

I closed my lips and remained silent, his words like gasoline for thoughts and speculations to nest in my head "We'll never know, they're counterfactual events and hypothetical situations" I drank from the glass I had previously filled with water "Besides, it makes me sound like a narciss-", "Hey, hey, stop your car, friend" Bill pushed and pulled his arms in the space between him and me "I don't say that with those implications, you're very humble Stanford" he moved his body in such a way that it gave the impression of shaking his head, he raised his arms "Everything you're doing will benefit humanity, for me that's not being selfish, quite the opposite" he approached and placed his elbow on my right shoulder.

"What I mean is that you're better off like this" with the open hand of the other arm he pointed at me, moving up and down, to emphasize his point. "You're happier than you could have been" I was still with my eyes on him without speaking "I'll show you" he moved away a little to extend his arm. "You trust me, right?". It was a bit strange to me that Bill used to ask about my trust in him as often as he did, but I always assumed that being someone with his powers was normal, after all it was logical that when he gave me knowledge and his friendship he needed to know that I would not misuse his generosity.

"Of course I do" I took his hand, his eye curled "You can always trust me, Sixer".

The cabin began to crumble and suddenly the environment changed to an impeccable construction that I did not recognize, at least not immediately, laughter and chatter filled my ears while my eyes ventured to get used to the interior, the sound of some open doors made me spin slightly where I saw something that squeezed my heart, in front of seats and more seats there I was, walking on the stage with a toga, I received my title and it was clear. I was graduating from West Coast Institute of Technology.

It was something unreal to see myself in this situation, to see how my face reflected true enthusiasm and happiness at achieving one of my many dreams that I had as a teenager. My parents were there, Stanley was there and his face was a mixture of pride and joy for me; disappointment, loneliness and doubt in those small details. It continued with a family celebration until the scene changed for the second time where I now worked as an inventor in a company of sorts, I knew that time moved forward thanks to the fictitious calendar, which at first filled the Stanford in front of me with motivation, now it filled him wit sadness. It caused him misery as he was limited by his contract, he no longer had time for his own projects or the family with whom he maintained contact.

And everything changed again, I was on Backupsmore and another possibility unfolded, I met someone and we developed feelings for each other and then, we get married? That would be a waste of my research time and even more so as I watched how we both settled in Gravity Falls and then started a small family, with similar results I gradually fell into the same thing: misfortune, sorrow, and suspicion due to the dissatisfaction with the life I was leading. I separated from my spouse to try to have some serenity but nothing, I constantly saw my other self immersed in the memories and torments of his decision, of the intensity of those discussions; about what was said or not said.

When I turned to the other side, my eyes widened when I found myself in front of the same person, they were talking or rather vociferating, it had taken me a moment to process that change so that their words made sense. "Who is going to want to be with someone like you, Stanford!?" Their face was like a slap that burned even before it landed aggrievedly on my face, but I couldn't mutter so shocked by the constant receipt of information "You're a damn selfish man!" they pointed accusation at me while they continued with their argument. Each syllable only served to sharpen the stake and in the end when it stuck in my heart I looked down, it seemed it could never escape me. Something I never asked for.

Then I knew that my insides were questioning and mortifying. Love is such a complicated concept for a mind like me, I have witnessed finite ways to demonstrate it and I can't seem to fully understand it, from my childhood until now, I still think that it is nothing more than frivolities that everyone pretends to know and handle. and then judge those who try to reach it with simplicity.

On many occasions I had witnessed my father's demonstrations towards Stanley and much more aware when they were for me. So many times I heard the expectations, his disappointments or simply his thoughts about us and each time I felt the need to relieve him but without leaving my brother aside, I wanted to be the one who was deserving enough to let me into his vulnerability and let him know that just as he loved me, I loved him. His words...they hurt , they made me feel insufficient and had the same effect on my brother but... I guess it was his way of showing that we were important, that he knew we could be even better.

That's how this person vanished and windows surrounded me to show hundreds of other situations, no matter how different they were, they all ended in disappointment "Do you see what I mean?" Bill finally decided to make his presence again and with an irritated attitude. He stayed in front of my eyes without the windows stopping rotating around us "They wouldn't appreciate you, six fingers. They are the selfish ones, the fatuous ones who couldn't stand someone as genuine as you" with his hands he enlarged one of the windows that remains motionless to show the image "Even before you moved here" my mother appears, then my father, Stanley and other people with whom I once crossed paths "They hurt you but expect you to give everything for them without complaining" he sighs "And that is why this is better for you".

"You have me by your side, I have seen what the others have not" now we moved to the usual space and he made me sit down, a cup of tea in hand "And I feel very lucky that it was you who called me and not a trashy scientist or something like that" he rolled his eyes and I just laughed, I adjusted my glasses with a little push of my index finger and sipped the liquid "I'm the lucky one, Cipher. It is not an everyday occurrence that such an intriguing and wise being decides to respond to my call" I thought the conversation would go to a more pleasant one immediately but Bill just looked at me "You are very important to me, Sixer" I didn't know what to do or say. because of the seriousness with which he said it "I need you... I would love to be in your dimension to spend more time with you, you know?" I stood up to finally be able to say something until his laughter was the next thing "I mean, at this point you are like my family and that is what all those corny things do to someone" I smiled and nodded, amused at his choice of words "Do you also need me as much as I need you, six fingers?"

"I need you, Bill".

Years later, standing on the bow looking out over the vast sea, he meditated while the other Pines was resting. The waves combined with their reflections induced a peaceful state but a hollowness different from the others persisted. The movement reminded him of thoughts and internal debates at his worst, where he let himself be dragged into the darkness and suffer in it.

If he jumped, it was likely that he would find the sense to live, hewas barely visible due to the stars that saw themselves still, the wood under his feet did not creak or seemed to recognize him, a ghost in pain that wanders in the icy night. He took a step closer to the edge but didn't take anything off, the weight would do. But with half his feet suspended and the other half still on the dock he stayed like that. How long did it take until his heart even beat? When he regained consciousness he was in his bed without a shirt or any clothing for his torso, mere soaked socks the only fabric on his body other than the blankets that maintained an acceptable temperature.

The next morning he left the cabin and walked unconsciously into the forest. Some creatures that he had already studied looked out timidly when they saw the afflicted figure of the man, who acted with the nature of a magnet. He arrived at an area where the trees contained peculiar lines that kept following him. Murmurs began to greet him and say nonsense. When he tried to ignore him, he realized where he was standing and froze. Thousands of eyes stared at him without blinking, they did not have an iris so the blackness of the pupil made him more gloomy and as if they were reading his thoughts, they began to manifest throughout him until he was no longer but a cluster of these organs.

He had come to consider removing his eyes, the simple fact of remembering that he had those orbs caused the most unpleasant reactions in his body, the immediate rejection of a similar object in a metaphorical or literal way, in any information format, just like the other geometric figure. What was once a paradise in their home now behaved like hell. His knuckles were still in limited recovery but his mind was an uncertain omen.

Or he would see his wrists that palely denoted something that he had come to hate and he would think that perhaps, with the help of some instruments he could manage to remove those ropes from his entire body, no matter how long or how painful it meant that Bill would not be able to use him never again. And he tried. What did it matter, if he was already alien to any humanity. His mania for sharp things was not discouraged, if there was the possibility of being there, it was, but; of not, did it by force. Like that time, one of the many times.

It was a moment like the other, he was wandering through the forest, now the ardor flamed between the distances from one flora to another, the aberrant calm. His body rocked because his swollen feet tried not to feel his condition, as well as making himself sick until he couldn't take it anymore and sat down against a tree. He removed his glasses to rub his eyelids with the impression of not being lucid. When he opened them, he realized that the tree in front that reached to the heavens was no longer a tree, a block splintered in its place surrounded by other thorns as a replacement. He knelt before standing on his feet and walking until the tips of his shoes touched the messy roots and he got back on his knees, his hands resting on the edge of this circle, how could he see in such detail without his glasses on?

There was no room for that question because he hunched over and brought his face closer…closer…even closer. His skin instinctively repelled his face but the word is there, instinct. Macabre allusion when the fine fabric did not hold for long and spilled on the wood until its anatomy prevented it from breaking, he moved away with complicated motion as some tried to continue in him, and at a slightly considerable distance. Whipping. And the snap didn't take long. Paralyzed it oozed with more current, the thorns appropriated the rest until they swallowed the last piece.

He hurriedly opened his eyes and sheltered his head to check that everything was still together to get out of there without waiting. It was just a dream.

Few interactions with other people made his delusions worse, strangers who were crafty, stupid, lacking in judgment, narcissistic, filthy... he was 100% sure that they reeked of Cipher. But he would not make that 'knowledge' evident, with his hands and elbows on the table he turned his back to the costumers and workers, he knew that they were watching him with that damned smile and those devilish eyes. Disgust to the one who touched his shoulder, his left imprisoned the outer wrist but what he saw was fear in normal pupils and a short circuit occurred within his logic, his face became grim when the woman began to laugh.

Another woman followed a few tables in front, so that like an infection all the faces would lengthen. Without control he imitated, the sweat reflected the terror that the experience gave him, his right hooked half of his face. His nerves had jammed as well as his vocal cords with the same sound quality as a phonograph. At the windows, palms slapped against this surface, their eyes moved quickly and in the opposite direction to the complement of their pair "I still have my eyes on ya, Stanford" they spoke in unison "Too bad you won't have any!" and some of the limbs that were hitting the windows passed through them and lunged at him, with specific emphasis on his eyes. He bent down and pulled the woman so he could leave the establishment.

Was it a good idea to have sent that postcard? It made him an easier target, he didn't know what Bill's supposed henchman could do to find him but if he was under his orders it was common sense that he already knew his location. There was no way to know what tactics he would be able to use. It could even already be at his house and he wouldn't know it.

He was so small next to him, he could fit in the palm of his two-dimensional hand and peel millimeter layer by millimeter layer to do whatever he wanted with the raw materials and waste. Previous enjoyment, at this moment repulsion for what is felt. When he turned the handle and the door gave him permission to enter, everything contained his essence, from the rugs to the money he carried with him. With his chest almost touching one of the tapestries, he wrapped himself up and inhaled the intoxicating fragrance, pressing it to his ribs. and began to rub his face against the fabric. As he raised his head, it was now suspended by his semi-extended arms, he looked at the ceiling and tears flowed. He still needed him.

"Wow" Bill spined his cane while he continued to see me in the mirror "It looks great on you, tiger" I arched my eyebrows without stopping smiling "Really?" I turned my body while taking my eyes off the mirror and adjusted my coat "Do you call me a liar?" he made clicking sounds and helped to adjust the garment "Come on, man…you're pretty much the definition of romantic, Beethoven would be jealous" this made me laugh and I restated my posture now with my fingers adjusting my neck, I had to admit that the costume was quite refined and just as I expected a period costume to feel.

"Ready to go?" he bowed and took off his hat that I reciprocated with another bow, we walked until we reached the place of the event where the most outstanding intellectuals of all time waited with cocktails in hand and chatting with each other. When I entered I had a drink and went to talk to a small group with Bill's company, even with the magnitude of the revelation I did not feel nervous, in fact, I was sure of myself and deep down I did not care what opinions they would give me as soon as the curtain came off.

When the time struck we both took the lead and gave a speech, his jokes were not lacking. When I pulled the curtain and the portal was in sight I heard exclamations, there was a silence until everyone began to applaud and ask its mechanism, my smile was so big that Cipher pushed his elbow against my arm and we only smiled before addressing the others to answer their questions.

When I woke up I didn't wait to stand up and go to work in the portal.

He remembers when his palate caught the improper corroded and pulled his upper lip that showed his red teeth in the mirror, he ran a finger to clean them but did not investigate further, convinced that Bill, by using his body got into a fight and that this was a mixture of his fluids with those of others. There were several times that it was repeated and that he decided to accept his explanation. How much had he done while using his body? For God's sake, the photographs showed him but he was a piece of something bigger, what repulsive things that being must have been capable of.

During the 30 years out of his dimension the thirst for revenge never paled, on the contrary, it grew stronger with each day that he felt his blood boil at every mention of his name. He lived for that, he had to… to see the day when Bill Cipher ceased to be a threat to reality.

But he never expected his defeat to happen in the circumstances in which they occurred. Seeing his brother with his head down and now empty as him, added to his guilt and afflictions, Stanley was always strong, determined and confident in his eyes. The other side of the coin.

The days went as the whole family and even Soos or Wendy helped Stan regain his memory and with that he tried to get his life back, which he now knew Stanley didn't take from him but Bill.

He used to think that he had to give everything to receive the minimum, but when he returned and got forgiveness… love… It was difficult to accept it at first but the night he found old photographs as well as home videos from his childhood that the brothers reminisced about, something changed.

"I can't believe you actually did that," he put his hand on his stomach and laughed, Stanley only crossed his legs and arms before extending his last ones with a failed attempt to look annoyed at the comment "It's pure comedy! A brainiac like you wouldn't understand my developed sense of humor" a blow landed on his twin's shoulder. "It drives ladies crazy" "Oh, I don't doubt it, completely crazy," he nodded mockingly in his way of doing it.

Stan hit him again "Idiot" Ford rubbed himself before returning the blow with greater force, to be fair "Nerd". After a while sleep began to come to them, Ford put his head on the shoulder of his hand while his held the bowl on his lap, and on the verge of succumbing to it he heard "I love you, Ford" a long second passed until the words came out of his mouth "I love you too, Stanley."

People could love him for who he was, not for how deserving he could get that affection.

He continued with his eyes on the wide sea remembering the details of his whole life and with that voice that told him that he was still broken. "Ford, the children are calling us!-- Stan shouted on the other side of the Stan O' War II, "Coming!" so he made his way, but not before stopping and turning to see the sea again, with an inhalation of the salty air he whispered, "I don't need you."

"Hurry up, Poindexter or else I'll throw you overboard" the sound of the seagulls, he pushed his glasses higher and resumed his steps. "Greetings children, how are my favorite kids of all dimensions?", "Uncle Ford!".

[inotcat04]

Hi!Here is Part 3 and the last part to my drifting stars thingy!(does it count as a story?)Anyways ,Thank you so much for all the likes for my Christmas post.It really means a lot to me to see all the likes.Makes me feel that I can actually write yk.Credits to @smol-vehvi whose fic among the stars inspired this thingy.Anyways,I hope you will enjoy it!(Part 1 and 2 at the bottom)

Ford goes into an uneasy sleep inside the cave as Katee watches over Mabel.

Ford wakes up his mindscape and it was just like he remembered.He was looking around being very confused as why he was here but a suddenly the realisation hits him like a sledgehammer when he hears a familiar laugh.

“Ha ha ha ha!”Bill cackled watching ford from a far.”I know that laugh.”Ford growled clenching his fist tightly.”Show your self!”Ford shouted into the air.”Oh hello Stanford Pines!How have things been going?”Bill asked.His voice dripping with sarcasm.He knew what had happened of course.He had seen the whole thing go down from his friends mind but it was fun seeing ford so oblivious at why he would ask that question.”Why are you here?What do you want!”Ford shouted ignoring bill’s question completely,his face slowly turning red with pure anger.”Why do you always think I have a catch sixer?Can’t I just catch up with my favourite puppet?”Bill retorted,acting shocked by ford’s question.He loved seeing sixer so angry at him.It made him laugh even.

“Anyways,I saw that shooting star had…. a bit of an accident with one of my buddies huh?”Bill said.Ford’s blood ran cold.Bill was the reason Mabel got hurt?Ford thought.The thought alone that bill had hurt her made his blood boil until he remembered.If he hadn’t trust him 31 years ago this wouldn’t have happened.Mabel would be in gravity falls if he hadn’t been so oblivious.Ford felt his blood die down and replaced with a wave of guilt.Tears prickled behind his eyes again but he kept them in.He rather hold them in than to appear weak infront of bill.He knew that bill would use it to his advantage if he let him know that he was feeling attached to Mabel.

Ford didn’t respond to bill so bill continued.”Ok!I have another deal for you sixer.I will regrow Mabel’s hand and You and her will go back to gravity falls together and after that,everything will go back to normal and I will never talk to you again.And…Mabel would be safe,and you want that right or do you want Mabel to get hurt even more?”Bill questioned with fake concern on his face.Ford, who was looking at the ground, still didn’t respond.”Hey!Maybe I could also get rid of your sixth finger for you.Then you could be normal huh?Isn’t that what you wanted for your whole entire life?”Bill chimed trying to convince ford to take the deal.Ford looked sadly at his fingers,the one thing he wanted to change most about him but as he thought about actually taking the deal,he went back a few days prior.To the day he had first met Mabel.

They both had just escaped the nightmare realm and were exhausted from all the running,the emotions,and most of all.Shock.Mabel sat gloomily on the floor of another cave just thinking about what had just happened that day.She just wanted everything to go back to normal.She wanted to be with Dipper,Stan and waddles.Singing karaoke with them like they did that night dipper had summoned them but she couldn’t,she belonged to the multiverse now and no matter how much is wished to go back home.She couldn’t.

After awhile of awkward silence and tension in the air,Mabel decided that it would be the polite thing to go up to the mystery man who had just saved her and turned out to be family and say thank you and have a proper introduction.Ford was pacing like he always did when too much stuff had or was happening at once.How did a child come out from the portal and into the nightmare realm.How could Stanley been so reckless!Ford thought as he continued to pace anxiously trying to make sense of the problem he now had to take care of and raise when something rather more specifically someone tapped his shoulder lightly.

“HI!I’m Mabel!Thank you for saving me from that weird triangle guy!”Mabel exclaimed to Ford and raised up her hands to give jazz hands to him.Glitter came spilling out of her sweater sleeves and onto the floor as she smiled gleefully at him.Even though she was very scared of the situation she was now,he didn’t need to know that she was scared.All she wanted to do was to comfort her newest family member that reminded her so much of dipper in a way.In the way he walked and paced around the cave like dipper did when he was anxious.Ford turned around and saw a partially true smile full of braces,a brightly coloured key sweater that had tearing everywhere from what they had just experienced but most notable of all was her relentless hope and determination she had always had.Like even though their situation was bad and she was sad,she had determination that it would all work out some how and the situation could have been worse and that was what made Mabel,Mabel.

“Greeting,uh Mabel.I am Stanford Pines.”Ford answered while having a forced smile on his face to calm Mabel down because a genius could tell that behind her exclamation was anxiety trying not to escape and put out his hand to shake hers because that was what polite people did.She reminded ford so much of Stan.Stan also had a problem where he pretend everything was fine when in reality it was not.He felt bad for Mabel for having to go through this at such a young age.It was such a pity.

“Wait,Pines!That is my last name!So that triangle guy was right!You are my family!”Mabel exclaimed as she quickly took his hand a squeeze it with all her might.Hey,She didn’t even react to my sixth finger.Ford thought when she took his hand.”Yes,he was correct.”Ford answered looking slightly angered than before Mabel had mentioned him while still looking at Mabel loving.He didn’t know how she was going to survive here but he wasn’t going to think about that now,for now he would think about what to do now.

“Wait,You have to same face as grunkle Stan sooo.”Mabel thought out loud.”WAIT,STAN HAS A TWIN!ARE YOU STAN’S TWIN?”Mabel shouted excitedly while Ford winched in pain from the sudden noise.”Uh,Yes.”Ford replied while his was still scrunched up in pain.”But why do you have the same name as your twin.”Mabel asked confused but curious.”No,his name is Stanely.I am Stanford.”Ford clarified while inside still winching and recover from the exclamation Mabel had made.”Ohhhhh,ok!”Mabel said but her insides were twisting in hurt and pain.What else did grunkle Stan not tell dipper and I.Mabel thought but her thought was gone when Ford asked a question.

“Mabel,how did you end up here.”Ford asked concerned.He really needed to know the story.Mabel eyes immediately began to well up with tears and she didn’t want to speak about what had happened before she got sucked in but she knew he had a right to know.”Well..”Mabel began.Mabel told ford on how dipper and her were staying there for the summer,how his lab had turned into a scam house and other stuff.

When Mabel finished,tears streamed freely down her face and she looked at ford. Her hands still holding ford hand as she sliently cried.Waiting for him to say something.Talking about her family was hard,especially now when she was very far away from them.”Oh Mabel,it’s going to be alright.You have me and we have each other.”Ford replied after awhile of silence and suddenly a flurry of sweater came on to him and he finched back at the sudden contact which was Mabel hugging him tightly.His own sweater absorbing her free flowing tears still coming from her eyes.Ford hands were above her for a while,not sure on what to do.But eventually he placed his hands on Mabel’s back and comforted her.

“Thank you grunkle ford.”Mabel muttered into his sweater.He wanted to comment on what was a grunkle but decided that now wasn’t the time too.Mabel got up and dust herself off after awhile.All the dust and debris got off her sweater and onto the floor of the cave.She let out her hand to help ford get up because when she hugged him,She accidentally pushed him to the floor.He accepted and took her hand and then she finally saw it.

“Wow!Six fingers!That is an extra finger friendlier than normal!”Mabel exclaimed when ford took her hand.heh,werid kid.Ford thought as Mabel pulled him up.”Wait six fingers.That’s so cool!You can like do like rainbow nails with nail polish with them!The possibilities are endless!”Mabel shouted excitedly while jumping and still hold ford’s hand tightly.”Wait,this kid wasn’t running away from him like most people when they saw his hand.Ford thought.He was confused maybe this kid actually liked him for him six fingers and all.Maybe people on earth now like six fingers,it was either that or Mabel was just very special.Mabel accept him,whether he had six fingers or not.He was still family to her and family never abandoned each other.

Ford was snapped back to reality and back to bill.”Well Sixer!”Bill Cackled as he brought his hands,engulfed in blue flames,to ford.What bill had said was a tempting offer and he hadn’t even said the catch but after what ford had remembered he knew what to say.”No.”Ford deadpanned while looking sternly at bill.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO!”Bill roared as he slowly became black and his eye red.”No.”Ford said again more confident.

As Bill was about to retort,They both suddenly started to hear Katee’s voice and his mindscape was slowly turning into white.He was waking up.”I WILL GET YOU BACK SIXER!YOU JUST WAITTTTTT!”Bill cackled his hand reaching out for ford.Creepy.Ford thought as he awoke.

Ford jolted awake and saw Katee excitedly talking to Mabel.

Thank you for reading finish and I hoped you enjoyed it.(if you didn’t,feel free to let a comment on my writing and if you didn’t feel free to also leave a comment)(Again I have no idea how long this is but YAY if you made it to the end.)(idk how to feel about this part)Anyways,thank you so much for your endless support to my writing.It really makes my day whenever I see a like,reblog,comment and a follow everyday.Anyways,See you soon!Byebye!❤️

9/12/25 1/12/12 24/15 13/21/3/8

Part 1:

https://www.tumblr.com/inotcat04/770863262394892288/hia-new-story-for-you-guysi-will-be-posting

Part 2:

[ultimatelytired]

Contract pt. 2

word count: 39,011

Fandom: Gravity Falls Pairing: Stanley Pines x Alvah (OC) Pronouns: He/She/They (usually goes be she/her) Relationship: Problematic Occupation: Guardian Ability: Demonic Powers

Since the individual is a resident of the Nightmare Realm, while also being the embodiment of evil from across multiple dimensions, the power they have is almost unlimited. They are capable of traveling to different dimensions throughout the multiverse but when they do step foot in such dimensions their powers become limited unless they are able to form a contract, similar to Bill through his deals, that allows them to have full access to their powers. They are capable of shapeshifting their appearance to blend in with the locals or at least influence the minds of those who set their eyes on them, but if there were anyone to bear witness to their true form, their own minds would destroy itself and drive them into madness.

Keys:

n/a

Warnings:

blood, violence, and spoilers for those who haven't read the book of bill.

"Contract" pt. 1, pt.3

there are bound to be mistakes in here that I a. missed or b. could not be fucked fixing.

season 2, episode 12. a tale of two stans

Her eyes widened slightly when Ford pulled the gun strapped to his back and aimed it at her, causing her to halt in her tracks and stare at the end of the barrel. She raised her hands and opened her mouth to say something but he had already pulled the trigger and a beam shot out of the gun and shot right through her face, taking out the entirety of the left side of her face.

"Alvah!" Stan shouts, this causes Ford to flinch and slowly lower his gun and stare at the woman in front of him. Her remaining eye slowly moved to look at the giant-sized hole in her face, and instead of the red substance known as blood dripping down her face, there was a black-like tar oozing out and dripping down the side of her body. Her eye looked back towards Ford and the shocked expression slowly twisted into a sadistic grin as maniacal laughter erupted out of her, a black smoke with a red glow burst out of the gaping hole in her face that was full of eyes staring at him. She raised her hand and gestured to the shadow to return inside where it escaped from before hovering her hand over the wound on her face and healing it, the way it healed was odd. Instead of seeing skin weave itself back together, her skin was like a shattered porcelain doll slowly putting itself together piece by piece.

"Is that how you greet an old friend, Stanford?" she asked after the last crack was sealed up, and it was as if she was never broken in the first place.

"Alvah, I... I didn't recognize you." he spoke as he looked her up and down, she did the same thing and sighed.

"That's on me, I suppose. This isn't a form you're accustomed to seeing." they all watched as she approached Ford, placing a hand on his shoulder that slowly glided across to his other shoulder when she moved behind him, soon both of her hands were on his shoulders but when she peeked out they were surprised to see that she-- or rather, HE looked different "This one was more to your liking, was it not?" even his voice made them shudder. Dipper and Mabel take a closer look at Alvah, and their jaws drop when they recognize him, it is him. It was the mystery man from McGucket’s memory that none of them had any recollection of, the man who was the cause of McGucket’s decline in sanity.

"I see you've not grasped the concept of personal space in the years I have been gone." he let out a laugh as he wrapped his arms around Ford's neck, nuzzling his cheek against his more rugged one.

"Nope. But I've missed you, Fordsy~" he cooed out, he snickered and pulled away when Ford aimed the gun at his face again, raising his hands up in surrender "You know those human weapons aren't going to work on me, but it is a pain to fix these bodies. That was the first time it was damaged since I first made it." he let out a huff as he lowered his weapon.

"Then it's a good thing that they can even penetrate a body like yours." he looked towards his brother again, who was staring at the both of them in shock, and grumbled when he felt Alvah's hands caressing his body "What are you doing now?" he let out a grunt when the end of his coat was lifted up a little as his hands glided up and down his torso, squeezing it a little before moving up to his biceps.

"I see you've bulked up a little throughout your travels. You're not that puny little stick that would get blown over by a small gust of wind." Ford sweat dropped when he pulled his hands back, wiping away the imaginary tear running down his face while sniffling a little "I can't help but be a little... proud." he laughed when Ford pushed him away by the face.

"Enough of your needless chatter, devil." Alvah let out a laugh as he lifted himself off the ground, floating in front of Ford with a cheeky grin.

"A devil you summoned to care for your loved ones." Ford let out a sigh at Alvah's childish behavior, seems he hasn't changed a bit. He turned towards the audience staring at them in bewilderment as Alvah hovered close behind him, his head hovering over his shoulder with his long black hair draping itself over his shoulder "I did as our contract stated, Ford. I kept your loved ones, and their loves ones, alive." his eyes zoned in on the poor state they were in and glared at Alvah.

"You were supposed to protect them, Alvah! Protect and keep them out of danger!" now this caused him to scoff as he rolled off of Ford's shoulder, he continued to float in front of him as he snapped his fingers and they all watched as his hand burst into a black and red flame and a scroll formed in his hands that slowly unraveled. In a text they could not understand, except for Ford himself, Alvah pointed to a specific section.

"It says I am to keep your loved ones alive. Not keep them out of danger, nor protect them. As long as they do not die under my watch, I haven't broken our contract." he shrugged his shoulders as Ford took the contract, reading over it to see that it in fact, did say that "Perhaps you should have worded it like that." he lowered the contract and glared up at Alvah, who continued to grin.

"You..." he then sighed.

"But it's also my fault that I got stuck here for thirty years." this caused him to raise a brow, Alvah points to a different section this time "For the time you are not in Gravity Falls, I am to remain here until you return. That was technically to protect your research and whatnot, but I never would have thought to change it when you disappeared." this managed to crack a smirk on his face.

"So you could not return to the Nightmare Realm?" this caused him to scowl.

"No, no I could not."

"Hang on, hang on." they both look to where Stanley spoke up, approaching the two of them with a confused expression "You... you two know each other? And Alvah, you're... a man?" Ford shook his head with a sigh.

"Yes, we know each other. I am the one who assigned him to take care of things in my absence, but I see that he failed to stop you from reactivating the portal." he just shrugged.

"And for me being a man, well, no." they watch as he lowered himself to the ground "I am neither man nor woman, I am not a being that can be identified by something like sex or pronouns. I am an interdimensional being, an embodiment of all that is evil. An amalgamation of evil from across multiple dimensions and parallel worlds. I am... evil itself." he looked even more confused, Ford raised his hand in front of Alvah's face.

"He is quite literally the embodiment of all that is evil, created in the Nightmare Realm that managed to gain a consciousness." he nods.

"In simpler terms, yes. My name wasn't even Alvah, to begin with," he then gestures to the man beside him "Ford is the one who bestowed the name "Alvah" onto me because he didn't want to call me by my title." this caused him to huff, pushing his glasses up a little.

"The Harbinger of Chaos is hardly a name." he shrugged, he winced when he was flicked in the nose.

"You were trying to be sweet when you gave me the name as well, not knowing that the biblical meaning behind "Alvah" means evil." he then chuckled, leaning back and allowing his body to float again while resting his head in his hands "It's the reason I even kept the name." Ford sniffled.

"Wait!" turning their heads, they see Dipper looking up at Alvah in shock while flipping through the pages of the third journal "Harbinger of Chaos? That's you? That was you, Alvah?" Ford's eyes widened at the sight of his journal, along with the fact that there were children present, now that he fully registered it.

"Aw~ you read my chapter. He said some real nice things about me, didn't he?" Dipper gasped when Alvah snapped his fingers and the journal disappeared from his grasp, he read through a couple of lines and snickered softly while showing Ford "With the few details I gave you, I think you captured my likeliness rather nicely." he tried taking the journal from him but this only caused Alvah to laugh and pull it away from Ford's reach.

"Alvah, give it back to me!" he laughed.

"Nuh-uh, it's his now." with that he tossed it back over to Dipper, who just barely caught it "He managed to find it all on his own, I don't think that hiding spot was good enough. A different snot-nosed brat managed to find your second journal as well, so you're not good at hiding things."

"Right." he cleared his throat and dusted himself off, Alvah floated behind him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders "It seems you already know who Alvah is, but allow me to properly introduce him. This is the Harbinger of Chaos, a being I contacted to keep my research safe and those I care about alive." he glared at Alvah, who snickered beside him.

"And you only did it because things went south for you. You never would have formed a contract with me if he didn't--" Ford promptly slapped his hand across his mouth, silencing him.

"They do not need to know the full details." Alvah scoffed and pushed his hands away, his eyes then moved to where Stan stood along with the kids.

"Other than that, he is correct. From the time you all stepped foot in Gravity Falls, I have been watching every little thing you've done. Every. Little. Thing." when he said that he booped them each on the nose "However, I am not allowed to directly interfere with what you do with your daily lives. So with each adventure you've been on, I was just watching in the shadows and making sure you didn't die at the end of the day. Like so." with a snap of his fingers, a burst of smoke formed in front of them that was playing back to each adventure. If they were being honest, it always felt like they were being watched, but seeing it for themselves, made them shudder "At times I had to rush you for you to get to places in time, at others I would manipulate the background to help you."

season 1

for the gnomes, she knew mabel would be walking into a trap to become the gnome queen and hurried dipper along to go save her.

when the "sea monster" was trapped in the cave entrance, she snapped her fingers so when it was thrashing, a particularly large chunk of debris would fall and make it malfunction.

made the sun rise so that the wax figures would melt.

spoke to mabel to get her to hurry along and stop gideon from killing dipper.

couldn't do much but would have stepped in if the ghosts were going to kill dipper, mabel and the other teenagers.

kept an eye on dipper in case the manotaurs or the multi-bear were going to double cross him.

kept her eye on the doubles if they overpowered dipper and would set off the sprinklers if things went south.

their lives weren't particularly in danger but if they got too far from gravity falls she would have chased after them herself.

each time they went back in time she was there to make sure they didn't get stuck in that point of time.

made sure mabel and stan wouldn't fall to their death and would prevent dipper from getting too hurt against rumble.

kept a close eye on the twins when gideon shrunk them down as well as stan if they didn't figure out he was ticklish.

kept her eye on the summerween trickster so he didn't get too close to the kids, almost interfered if soos didn't eat it from the inside.

if they weren't able to apprehend the monster she would have interfered.

no real threat.

just kept a close eye on them.

kept a close eye on the children in case they weren't able to figure out the body swapping.

no real threat.

was there to help them save waddles, but if push turned to shove, she would have interfered.

was the one to keep bill in check and save the children, stan and soos from intentionally losing to bill. 

would have killed that little brat gideon if he did serious damage to the twins.

season 2

was there to protect the children and stan from becoming zombie food.

distracted the shapeshifter when they were in the caves and would have killed it if they didn't manage to capture it in the cryo-pod.

would have set the mini-golf park on fire if those little "golf people" really did hurt the children.

made sure bill didn't do anything "too" bad to dipper when he took his body.

kept her eye on giffany and would have short-circuited the place if things got out of hand.

no real threat.

was the one that got mcgucket moving so he could protect them from getting their mind erased by his memory gun.

kept her eye on the children when they went through globnar.

she and the love god kind of know each other, so she threatened that little cherub to not do anything funny while she was there.

kept her eye on them but couldn't do much with that ghost lingering.

"I now see what you meant by just "keeping them alive", Alvah." he just giggled with a shrug.

"I have seen every possibility, every timeline, every choice, every win, and every failure you have ever chosen. I know the outcome of every scenario, and even today, I knew would be the day Stanley succeeds in finishing the portal to bring Ford back to his original dimension." this revelation slowly caused Stan to look up at him.

"So... did that mean you knew that my brother would be trapped in the first place?" this caused them to look at him, a hint of betrayal in his eyes as he looked towards Alvah "If you were watching that whole time, did that mean you could have helped me save my brother? You could have helped me speed up the process instead of watching me wallow in misery for thirty years as I tried to fix my mistake?!" Alvah, whose face was blank as he stared down at Stan, blinked slowly before a soft but pained smile appeared across his lips.

"Yes, I could have." Stan's face slowly scrunched up in anger as he grabbed a hold of Alvah, pulling him close.

"You did nothing! You could have done something to help me, but you didn't! You said you were on my side... you said..." Alvah exhaled deeply through his nose as he gently took Stan by his wrists and pulled them off him, he lowered his face and gave him a sympathetic look.

"I would have if I could have." he spoke, Stan takes his hands back from Alvah as he refused to look at him "There are events in this timeline that I am not allowed to prevent or speed up. Thirty years ago, your brother was meant to go through that portal, he was meant to be trapped and it was on this day at this time that he was meant to return because of you and your efforts."

"Still, you could have helped me." this caused Alvah to sigh.

"Alright, let me break it down for you." they watch the smoke disappear when he slaps his hands together and then pulls them apart, they watch a blue thread surround the room as he pulls his hands away. He floats off the ground and starts looking through the thread before finding a specific one, he brings himself down and holds it out in front of them "Here is the timeline we are currently in. Here it contains every event that's occurred leading up to today. See how the thread is flowing smoothly? No hiccups or anything. My interferences are minor, and it doesn't cause any damage. Now let's go back thirty years, to the day where all this began." he pulls the thread back and it stops at a park that was glowing bright, he enhances on it, and they see in both awe and shock the exact moment Stan accidentally pushed Ford into the portal.

"Now let's say I did help you on the reconstruction of the portal, say instead, that it took us a couple weeks or months to get it fixed and we bring Ford back. Ta-dah, the day is saved." pulling his hand back a thread branches out from the original one and expands out "Because of this change, a new timeline is created out of the original; a new story is born. So, what happens to the original one?" his hand hovers under the original thread and they flinch when he closed his hand over it, crushing it beneath his palm and severing it completely "It's effectively destroyed and erased like it never existed, meaning everything that's happened so far never-- or rather, it never WILL happen. And even so, I'll get into serious trouble if I were to mess with serious events in the timeline."

"But, like," Alvah makes everything disappear when Mabel spoke, looking all nervous under his gaze "aren't you like a super powerful being? Can't you break the rules? Couldn't you have helped Grunkle Stan save his brother?" this caused him to chuckle, kneeling to Mabel's level so his drastic change in height didn't scare or overwhelm her.

"I find it flattering that you think I'm oh so powerful, I am, and I do tend to bend the rules a little bit, but if I were to break this..." they watch his already pale skin turn paler as fear struck his face, he's now curled up in a ball while clutching his head "I'll get in trouble with... them. It's been thirty years, and I've neglected my duties because I was stuck here, they're gonna yell at me." the sound that escapes him is like a whine like croak.

"Ah hem, uh, who exactly is them?" he points at Dipper, shaking his head.

"Someone you don't wanna know and don't wanna cross. They may seem all nice and mystical, and sure they're an extra-dimensional being that could wipe out my very existence but doesn't because if they do then they're erasing the very aspect of evil and they can't have that because it's just a pain... anyways, they're basically god." he lets out a sigh, pressing his hand against his forehead "So you see, Stanley, I couldn't help you even if I wanted to. The only thing I was allowed to do was... watch." his shoulders slump when Stan refused to look at him.

"So, when you say you're evil..." 

"I am every bad choice you make, every selfish action, every terrible mistake. You could say I'm like that devil on your shoulder telling you to ignore the angel."

"So, you tell us to do bad things?"

"Pft, no. I'm just giving you the option, I'm not telling you to do anything. You're the one who chose it in the end, so that technically makes you a bad person." he then shrugged his shoulders, they then point up at him.

"Then what about old man McGucket? We saw that memory of you two, or the woman you. You two were arguing about something." he then let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair and messing with it.

"I went to see him to say sorry, and what did I get in return for my efforts? I got shot in the face!" he looked at Ford and saw him looking up at him in confusion "It was back when you two were first testing out the portal and he got sucked in by accident, remember how he lost his mind because he saw something that freaked him out?" he nodded his head.

"Yes? It was what convinced me to quit the project." he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hehe, yeah, well he saw... me." they all stare at him in confusion, not understanding what seeing him mea-- they were taken aback when Ford grabbed him by the arms and started shaking him.

"You mean Fiddleford saw you? He saw the real you?!" Alvah manages to rip himself free from Ford's hold and push him back.

"Yes! But it was completely by accident. We figured you two were getting close to finishing the portal but we didn't realize just how quickly, so imagine my surprise when I was relaxing in the Nightmare Realm and some scrawny little human poked his head through a hole in our dimension." he can almost remember it like it was yesterday, just casually relaxing in the Nightmare Realm because there's basically nothing to do except laze around when a hole opened up. Curiously, they did approach it and concluded that Ford and his little assistant Fiddle-whatshisname had finally managed to successfully finish the portal, but what caught them by surprise was when a head poked through. They recognized the human as Ford's assistant, they tilted their head to the side as they stared at him while the human looked up at them and their face slowly morphed into one of pure terror.

"You... aren't supposed to be here." they spoke, voice disoriented through the chaos that was their body. They sighed softly when the human screamed in fear so they did the only sane thing they could think of, they raised their hand and pushed him right back where he came from, and the hole disappeared just as quickly as it appeared.

"What was that?" looking over they see Bill approach them, his singular eye tinged with curiosity.

"I believe your toy has finally finished his project." this made the triangular figure glow with glee, clapping his hands joyfully as he floated circles around their head "Congratulations, Bill. You're finally getting your doomsday." he let out a laugh as he hovered in front of their face.

"I know, right? I'm gonna go round up the others!" ah, good times, he then shrugs his shoulders.

"He saw my real body and I pushed him out before any more damage could be done, or if he saw anyone else." Ford starts rubbing his temples to ease the forming headache, Mabel raises her hand "Yes?"

"What does having seen your body have anything to do with McGucket going coo-coo?" he opens his mouth to speak but stops when Dipper opens the journal.

"Oh, I know the answer to that. It says here that since their body is made of all the evil throughout countless dimensions, parallel worlds, and alternate universes their body is so corrupted that if anyone were to gaze upon their true form then their minds would slowly descend into madness from all the chaos stored into one being." Alvah snaps his fingers.

"Ding, ding, ding. You are correct." he then sighs again "Because of that and our contract, I went to say sorry but even in a different form Fidds still recognized me and lost his mind. I tried to calm him down but in the end, he made me lose my temper and then I got shot with the memory gun." Ford heard him use the nickname he usually used for Fiddleford, sputtering a little when he used it.

"Fidds?" Alvah laughed.

"Oh, yeah! Ever since you kids helped him jog his memory, he came to me and asked, or more like demanded, I tell him everything he's forgotten. So once a week I'd visit him to help him remember what he's forgotten, we've gotten quite close since then." he winks at Ford, shrugging his shoulders as he floated off the ground again and wrapped his arms around his neck to nuzzle into his cheek once more "Aren't you happy we're getting along? You always scolded me when I made fun of him." he snickers when he started pushing him off again, struggling against Alvah's iron grip.

"Sure, but I'm not happy that he spiraled so deep because of my mistake." Alvah hummed softly.

"Then what are you going to do now?" this caused him to look up at the demonic being, he pulled himself away and smirked at him "Now that you're back, I have completed my end of our contract. But how about we extend it a little longer?" Ford narrowed his eyes on him.

"What do you mean?" Alvah placed a finger on his chin as he looked up in thought.

"Well, since Stanley opened the portal a second time, the connection between this dimension and the Nightmare Realm has gotten stronger. Who knows how long until Bill forces his way through, and the end of the world happens." a look of concern immediately crossed his face, he looks away to think but gasped softly when Alvah was directly right in front of him "Extend our contract, Stanford, and I'll continue to keep you and your family alive. I'll make sure Bill doesn't come into contact with them this time. I'll make sure he won't be able to make deals with them like he did with Dipper. You can leave their well-being to me while you focus on keeping him at bay." his gaze hardened on the man floating in front of him, showing off those pearly whites that could tear him to shreds.

"... the last time I didn't listen to you, I was met with betrayal and nearly lost my mind." Alvah was silenced when Ford glared at him, knowing what he was going to mutter "If we change up the conditions of the contract... then so be it." Alvah's grin returned, this time stretching from ear to ear as he clapped his hands.

"You made a fine choice, Stanford!" snapping his fingers, the contract reappeared before them once more. A red spark of lightning shot out of his finger, and he changed that he was able to come and go from this dimension to the Nightmare Realm whether Ford was in Gravity Falls or not, Ford himself changed up the part where Alvah was to protect his family instead of just keep them alive. They made a few more changes here and there before concluding that they were satisfied with the new contract, Alvah grins as he reads through it "Now, until the defeat of Bill Cipher, I am to protect your family from any potential dangers while making sure you don't make any past mistakes. In return, I have more access to my powers while I am in this dimension, and I can do whatever I want as long as no human gets hurt in the process." Ford reads through it one more time before nodding his head.

"Yes... I am satisfied with the changes to the contract."

"Wonderful!" they watch as both Ford and Alvah lift their thumbs to their mouths before biting into their flesh hard enough to get it to bleed, they hover their open wound over the contract and let a few droplets get on the golden parchment until Alvah snaps his fingers again and the palm of his hand burst into flames. This time a quill appeared, and he used the blood as ink to sign his name then he gave the quill to Ford to do the same, after he finished signing it Alvah felt a surge of power course through his body "Oh, yeah. Now that's what I'm talking about!"

"Just remember to keep up your end of the contract." he only grinned as the contract rolled up and flew into his hand, it disappears when he closed his hand into a fist.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." his hands were then enveloped with a bright yet dark red flame, he stared at the smoldering flame before waving it off and booping Ford on the nose "With that I'll finally take my leave and return to the Nightmare Realm." this caused the others to stare in shock.

"You're leaving?" he laughed softly.

"Yeah, but not forever. I've been away from my real body for thirty years and I need to go and check up on it to see if I'm alright. I might be a little stiff for being away from it for so long." he then crossed his arms with a smile "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you'd miss me." the twins look at each other, still a little intimidated under the gaze of his red eyes, but they did nod a little.

"We'd like to think that you didn't lie to us this entire summer, Alvah. That the woman we've been hanging around didn't just look after us because of a contract, that you genuinely did it out of the kindness of your heart." this comment caused the smile on his face to drop a little, his face twitching as guilt ate at his nonexistent heart.

"I..." he couldn't finish his sentence and instead turned towards Ford, they let out a sigh but then gasped softly when something was thrown at them, Mabel was able to catch it and when they saw what it was their eyes widened "Take a look at that when you're not busy. You might find something worthwhile." it was his memory tube they were searching for that they couldn't find, he winked at them before finally turning away. Ford took a step forward and they watched as Alvah's body went limp, his body falling into Ford's arms before it could fall to the ground. There they watched as his shadow leaked out of him and loomed over them despite being attached to the wall "See you later." it spoke before a burst of laughter rang out through the room and the shadow disappeared.

Elsewhere... 

In the chaotic hell that was the Nightmare Realm, a somewhat surreal unstable void filled with swirling shades of dark purple, red, and yellow almost like a lava lamp. However, the being we're focusing on resides in a different section of the Nightmare Realm. Though the sky was still red they were surrounded by stars as they lay motionless in a body of clouds, that was when their body twitched as they stirred awake. After being in a coma for about thirty years, the Harbinger of Chaos arose rather slowly and weakly from where they had been lying for the past three decades. With a body made of a chaotic tangle of writhing, red tendrils and jagged lines adorned with numerous glowing red eyes that peer out from the dark depths of its flesh, they opened their mouth, and a horrific scream roared out that would deafen the ears of mortal beings... turns out they were just yawning. 

"Mm, it's been a long time." with a voice made up of the screams of all that they have slain, they spoke for the first time, and it almost felt foreign "I need to remember not to make the same mistake twice the next time I form a contract with a different being. I do not want to be stuck in such a predicament ever again." they note to themself, grabbing onto nothing to pull themself up until they were no longer laying in the luscious clouds that was their bed. Since their consciousness had been in that vessel alone, their main body had remained dormant the entire time and gave off the atmosphere like it was dead, but now their power was surging through their body and anyone residing in their section of the Nightmare Realm could feel that they had returned.  

The Harbinger of Chaos, the embodiment of evil throughout entire realities woke up one day and decided that they weren’t just going to be just a meaning, they were going to be alive. Where there is good, there will always be their counterpart that is evil, influencing individuals to do what they believe is the better option. As the devil on their shoulder, as the temptation that led Adam and Eve into biting into god’s sacred fruit, they are tasked with bringing the darkness out of people’s hearts. They do not crave world destruction, they do not want to destroy or take over dimensions, they think that’s just hard labor and a waste of time and effort, they’d rather just let their influence seep into the minds of others so they can destroy their own worlds. 

“My old friend, it has been a long time.” this being of evil perked up at the voice, tilting their head to the side at the sight of such a majestic being “I am a little hurt at the words you spoke.” they let out a chuckle themself. 

“I was only teasing. Besides, I knew you were watching ever since Stanley completed his mission to save his brother. And was I lying? The only reason you haven’t wiped me from existence is because if you do, the very concept of evil would disappear? But wouldn’t that be a good thing? Worlds without evil would be… perfect.” they let out a sigh. 

“But a world without evil would be out of balance. Good and even coexist together for a reason.” a hum is the only response they get. 

“Anyways, what are you doing in the Nightmare Realm? Did you venture across worlds just to visit little ol’ me? I’m flattered, really? It does things to my already inflated ego~” a chuckle leaves them as they float off, the Axolotl following close behind them “Are you worried Bill might pick up a fuss now that I’ve returned from dimension 46'\? He always avoids areas that you’re in.” the ethereal being let out a sigh. 

“I suppose. He was always one to bottle up all his feelings then let it all out at once rather than sharing his thoughts.” this caused them to let out a laugh while snapping their fingers to open windows to other worlds, peering into one they were met with talking frogs “I think it would be better for him to show a different side, don’t you think?” this caused them to roll all their eyes. 

“The last time he showed a vulnerable side he got his “heart” broken, remember? It’s the whole reason I was in dimension 46'\ in the first place.” they swipe their hand and peer into another window, now seeing a bunch of magic fly across their vision “If you want him to share his thoughts, you’ve got to force it out of him. The only way I see him talking about his feelings is in Theraprism.” 

“You’re right.” this earned them another laugh, they watched as a dark energy seeped out of the tip of their hand and infested the open windows that surrounded them, corrupting a few individuals before quickly closing the windows “I hope you don’t make too many changes with the Pines family, friend.” 

“You don’t need to worry about that, Axolotl. I’m a tough nut to crack.” this earned them a raised brow, and they shrunk a little under their gaze. 

“Perhaps, but what about that vessel of yours?” 

“What about it?” Axolotl gave them a knowing look, floating around them as they laughed softly. 

“You and I both know what I’m talking about.” they laugh a little more when they see all their eyes look in different directions, avoiding their bright gaze “Oh, I am only teasing. But you’ve been in that vessel for over thirty years. Sure, time works differently on beings with such a long lifespan, but your mind was in that of a human body for so long. You and I both know that things changed, whether for the better or for the worst.” they were met with silence, they peak over their shoulder and saw their gaze was back on the Pines family once again, namely on the Stan twins. 

“It… really complicates things.” 

“What will you do now?” their hand hovered over their view of dimension 46'\, their finger tapping against the image before swiping it away. 

“Fulfill my contract and come right back, I suppose.” 

“I see. Then, I’ll take my leave. I hope to see you well, my friend.” and with that, Axolotl left as silently as they appeared. They floated aimlessly in the chaos that was known as their home and sighed to themselves, this is why they preferred to laze around instead of doing fieldwork, it was always stressful and required too much thinking. They spent most of their time taking care of businesses that had been left unattended due to their absence and watched their influence fill the heads of people who couldn’t make a choice, it was always fun watching people be conflicted in their choices. Time certainly worked differently in the Nightmare Realm and different dimensions because when they looked back to dimension 46’\ the two brothers had left the basement and were staring at each other’s reflection, Ford even had a different change of clothes. 

“Perhaps I should inform them that I might be gone for a while to catch up on my work.” they thought it over before nodding their head and expanding their view on dimension 46’\, their finger circled around the image before allowing some of their consciousness to seep into the dimension before continuing their work. Alvah manifested within the second dimension (as a flat figure within the shadows) and looked around to find himself in the hallway, he travels through the shadows (similar to how giffany traveled through digital screens) until he found himself in the room where Stan and Ford were arguing with each other “I don’t suppose I’m interrupting anything, am I?” they both jump at the sound of his voice, turning in the direction it came from, they found the male version of Alvah in the reflection of the mirror in between them. They both turned their heads to look but found the space empty, so they looked back toward the mirror and saw him pressing his fingers against the glass, showing off the sharp, pearly whites as he looked at them. 

“You’re back, Alvah.” he chuckled softly, pushing himself off the surface of the mirror to cross his arms. 

“Yes, but not for long. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on, so don’t expect to see me lingering around for a while. It won’t take me long to finish up, but I won’t physically be around to keep an eye on your family. But if you really need me, just say my name and I’ll be there to save the day.” he snickered softly when Ford scoffed, readjusting his glasses. 

“I highly doubt we’ll need you to “save the day”, Alvah. You’ve made it clear that you’re not allowed to directly interfere with events, as you’ve put it.” he chuckled and looked Ford up and down, Stan was a little startled when he saw the end of his brother’s coat lift up to mirror what Alvah was doing in their reflection. He was looking him up and down once more, throwing his coat open to see he swapped out that black sweater for a red one while also messing with his hair “Would you quit it, Alvah?” he demanded and attempted to smack his hands off him through their reflection, it almost looked like he was fighting air, but Alvah just laughed and pulled his hands back. 

“Oh, you know I’m just teasing.” he giggles softly when Ford tugged on his coat and tidied up his hair. 

“If you want to make yourself useful, could you deal with the U.S. government? Stanley here tells me that they know about the portal, I’m just surprised they haven’t kicked down the doors to the shack yet.” this caused Alvah to start laughing, throwing his head back before wiping away a tear and leaning against the mirror with his elbow. 

“Oh, you don’t have to worry about those government officials. They won’t be bothering us again.” they both shudder when they saw him lick his lips “I made sure of that.” Ford glared at him. 

“Alvah! I specifically told you not to harm humans.” he rolled his eyes with a groan. 

“Hey! That was after we signed the updated version of our contract! I did it before then, okay? I also made it look like an accident, so you shouldn’t have to worry about backup coming to check up on things. Oh, and I gathered up all the evidence they managed to secure while they were stalking us.” he snapped his fingers, and a stack of discs and folders appeared behind them on a desk “You’re welcome.” Ford hummed softly as he looked over the documents. 

“Well, this is perfect. Well done, Alvah. I knew I could count on you to handle matters like these.” Alvah bows his head rather dramatically with a smirk “I’ll deal with these; I’ll call you when I need you.” he twiddles his fingers to bid Ford goodbye, this leaves Stan and Alvah alone, to which the demonic being pressed his hands against the glass of the mirror once more to look at Stan, who refused to look at him. 

“Are you mad at me, Stanley?” he asked, tilting his head to the side to try and get a look at his face but with the angle the mirror was facing he couldn’t properly see him “Is it because I didn’t help you with the portal, or because I knew the truth the whole time? Or was it because I knew what exactly you were suffering and did nothing about it?” he continued to watch him through the mirror for any sort of reaction but even then, Stan didn’t give any sort of reaction. Lowering his gaze to his hands, he saw that they were balled up into fists and shaking a little, was it anger or sadness? His fingers tap against the glass a little in thought, thinking of any way to get him to turn around “… do you hate me, Stanley?” Stan flinched at the sound of the voice and that was enough to turn him around, and there he saw the version of Alvah that stood by his side through thick and thin, his Alvah. Looking at him were those sharp green eyes that held a warmth like an early morning day, that kind and beautiful smile that lit up a room, and hair that was as soft as a freshly washed blanket. 

“You…” she tilts her head to the side and watches Stan approach the mirror, finger raised to point at her face “You don’t get to ask those questions, Alvah. From the beginning, you knew who I was, but I didn’t stop to question you. I should have known that someone like you wouldn’t have stuck around for as long as you did out of goodwill. You probably programmed that body of yours to meet my preferred standards, huh?” she tilts her head again, her eyes looking around the room in thought before landing on his again. 

“That is how I construct my vessels, yes. They take up the physical traits that would best suit those who gaze upon it, just like the male version of this vessel. I adorn that appearance because when I was first summoned, I knew how much the female population made Ford uncomfortable. I copied the personality of somebody he once cherished, but I didn’t drop it because it’s quite funny.” she took a step back and opened her arms to gesture to herself “For you, this was the ideal type of woman you have been craving; both in appearance and personality. This body was modeled just for you.” she watched the way his face screwed up but this time he looked like he was in pain, he swallowed thickly while gritting his teeth. 

“Then, did anything… did anything matter to you?” he wasn’t looking at her, so he didn’t notice the way her eyes twitched a little “Did any of what we had… matter to you, at all?” he looked up at her and saw the way she just continued to stare at him, his shoulders slumped, and he turned away to leave. 

“… from the day we first met to today, I have never lied to you.” this caused him to look back at her but noticed that she was no longer in the mirror “Take that as you will, Stanley.” 

season 2, bonus episode. harbinger of chaos 

“So, dudes, Alvah gave you that memory tube that contained the memory old man McGucket erased from way back then?” Soos, who was unconscious the entire time Alvah revealed she wasn’t who she seemed, questioned as he and Wendy followed the twins to where they could watch the memory tube. They hadn’t seen Alvah in a couple of days, Grunkle Ford told them that he, she, they? Whatever, she was so busy in her dimension that she wasn’t going to be around much, and the times she was she was down in the basement helping Ford out with his stuff. It was quite odd in the beginning, mostly because Alvah usually stuck by Stan’s side, but from what they were told, when he first met her, she always stuck by his side and watched him through mirrors or shadows. Anyways, they snuck back into the former base of the Society of the Blind Eye to steal the contraption that allowed them to watch the stolen memories of Gravity Falls and hauled it back to the Mystery Shack “What do you think we’re gonna see?” he asked curiously as they hooked it up in the attic. 

“Do you think we’re gonna see the world's secrets?” Mabel suggests rather excitingly. 

“We don’t know what exactly McGucket put into the memory gun, but I highly doubt it went that far. It would probably be something recent during that time.” Dipper answers, Wendy hums softly. 

“Whatever it is, I’m glad I brought snacks. We can munch on these while we watch.” Dipper laughed softly at Wendy, lightening the mood. Now that they know that Alvah is actually a being of pure evil, he was a little nervous to peek into that mind of hers to see what was going on thirty years ago where it all began. Soos and Mabel rearranged the room a little so they would be more comfortable to watch, so after finally setting it up he inserted the memory tube and took a seat beside Mabel. The screen spurred to life and the dark room was filled with static until it turned black, it stayed like that for a couple minutes and it confused them, was something wrong with it? 

“Hey, dude, did you set it up right?” Dipper scratched his head as he stood up, approaching the screen to see if he had done something wrong. 

“I thought I did, maybe I missed—” he let out a startled shout as he fell backward when a loud crash came from the TV, looking back up at it, they were all startled to see the shadowed figure of Stanford in a mirror, and he looked enraged as his fists banged against the mirror glass. 

“FORD!” he shouted as he continued to bang on the glass, he pushed his face against the glass to get a look at Stanford and he found the young man hunched over his desk. He looked as if he hadn’t slept in days, which was true, now that he had angered Bill Cipher, that triangular bastard had been tormenting the poor human to the point he couldn’t even sleep anymore in fear that his body would be taken advantage of “You’re going to allow yourself to wallow away in this shack? You’re not going to do anything to retaliate against him, and why? Because you’re afraid? You allowed him to take advantage of you despite all my warnings, and now that you lost poor little Fiddlesticks you’ve come to realize that you’ve got no one left. Tell me, what exactly are you going to do now? Have you finally given up, Stanford?” 

“As… as long as I don’t give in, he won’t win.” he glares back at the mirror where Alvah lets out a malicious cackle, his fists continuing to bang against the glass. 

“You think that’s enough to keep him at bay? Do you think that’s enough to keep him from getting what he wants? Unless you dismantle that portal of yours or destroy those journals, he’s going to continue torturing you until he succeeds. You sealed your fate the moment you took his hand, Stanford.” he scoffs, red eyes void of emotion but you can tell that he is giving him an unimpressed expression “You were such a gullible and naïve little thing that just a tiny bit of praise had you dancing in the palm of his hand; had you constructing the very thing that could destroy your universe.” he let out a laugh when Stanford stood to his feet and approached the mirror, slamming his hands against the frame and glaring at his shadow. 

“Mock me all you want, Alvah, but I made the discovery of a lifetime. I was able to create something that could have changed the world; that should have changed the world.” 

“Yeah, in a bad way. And sure, you were able to create it from scratch, but that idea wasn’t yours. You weren’t able to create something without his blueprints, this portal was his idea in the first place, and you were foolish enough to make it for him. To him, you were the perfect little puppet that didn’t even realize his strings were being pulled.” he laughed when Stanford punched the mirror, shattering it to pieces as the shards scattered across the floor beneath his feet, but he still saw his shattered reflection through the shards “If you had just listened to me from the very beginning, none of this would have happened. But why listen to me? As a being made up of an amalgamation of evil, of course, you shouldn’t trust me. Your muse would never lie to you~” he watched Stanford continue to glare down at his reflection before walking off, Alvah chuckled and followed him through the shadows that lingered through the barely lit house “He is never going to quit. He is never going to leave you alone. You will never be safe. You will never get to live a normal life again. You will never be sane. He sees everything no matter where you are. He is always watching.” Stanford stops in front of another mirror and faces Alvah once more, glaring at the shadowed version of himself instead of his own reflection. 

“Then what do you suppose I do? The only other option would be to…” his eyes glance over at a closet that kept his weapons, he hears another chuckle and raises his head to see Alvah leaning against the mirror. 

“You really think a bullet would end this madness? Hardly. You can’t get away from him, not even through death. Unless you can figure out a way to sever the connection between your mind and his control, you’ll never be able to get away.” he thoroughly enjoyed the way Stanford’s face crumbled up in pain “Well, what if I can help weaken it?” this caused him to perk up. 

“What… what do you mean?” he jerked backward when a bright light burst out of the mirror, his face hardened when he saw the same scroll of paper Alvah first introduced to him a few months back when things weren’t so bad “You know I’m not going to agree to that after what happened.” Alvah’s hands rolled along the side of the scroll as he peeked his head out from the side, lowering it a little as his fingers tapped against it. 

“You should know, Fordsy, that my contracts are different from his deals. He always manages to find loopholes through his deals and is generally the one at an advantage, while my contracts are stricter on myself and those who sign them.” he then gestures to the blank canvas “Whatever your demands are, I will match them to either an equal value or lesser. Through my contracts, I don’t need that portal to cross over to this dimension.” 

“If that’s the case, why would I—” Alvah raised his finger to stop him. 

“That’s where the contract comes into play. While I can access this dimension, my powers are much more limited than if it were the real me.” he holds the contract out to him once more “State whatever you want, Stanford. Whether it be keeping you safe from the dangers that linger outside this shack, or something minor like keeping an eye on your family while you stay here, I’ll be forced to do whatever it is. I don’t seek destruction, that’s not my thing.” Stanford stared at him in confusion. 

“But you’re also a being that influences the minds to do atrocious things. Why would you do something so unlike you for me?” he flinched when he was met with a vicious grin. 

“Because taking his toys is so much more enjoyable. When you two broke off, whatever your relationship was, he caused quite a ruckus in the Nightmare Realm that I found unbearable. I’m gonna enjoy the face he’s going to make when he realizes I took the one thing he thought was going to be his until the end of time.” Stanford clenched his hand into a fist as he stared at the blank contract waiting to be filled with his demands, what other options did he have? With the help of this demonic being, he can get Bill out of his mind so he can focus on more important matters, and even if he manages to get into his mind, Alvah is more than powerful enough to get him out “So, what do you say? Wanna sign a contract with me?” 

“… I can state whatever I want, and you’ll have to abide by it, no matter what?” the grin on his face grew wider. 

“Whatever you want, and I’ll do it for you.” Ford’s hand slowly lifted from his side and pressed against the mirror, in an instance, the demands he wanted were being written across the once blank page. A few other spots were filled in and he knew they were for Alvah, while they were allowed to travel between the Nightmare Realm and his dimension, they were to remain in Gravity Falls if he wasn’t there to keep it from being destroyed by the anomalies within this hick town, while in turn they were allowed access to their powers in order for that to happen. The contract turned towards Alvah, and their grin didn’t disappear, instead, he watched as they tore into their thumb to drip what he believed was blood and signed the end of it. Stanford took a step back when the contract came out of the mirror and a quill appeared beside it, Alvah pressed against the mirror and looked at him with anticipation “All you’ve got to do is sign it, and I’ll be at your discretion.” he swallowed thickly as he stared down at the part where he was supposed to sign it. Looking back at the quill he saw it swing side to side for him to take it, so with a deep breath he raised his thumb to his lips and tore into the flesh. He winced in pain but shook it off, hovering his thumb over the page and allowing a few drops of his blood to drip onto the page before taking the quill and signing his name. 

“Now… now what?” he was met with silence when the contract disappeared, leaving him and the shadow of his reflection within the darkness of the room. He stood nervously as those beading red eyes stared right back at him, slowly, he watched his reflection raise his hands and start banging against the mirror. He took a step back when each strike against the glass started getting more and more violent to the point the glass began to crack, when the glass did shatter a black liquid spilled out and poured onto the floor. He watched as the liquid bubbled and sizzled until a hand burst out and slammed against the floorboards, slowly, through the gurgling and groaning noises that emitted from this blob of goo, a figure pushed themself out of the puddle of tar. 

“What a pain…” he flinched at the sound of the voice as the figure stood to its full height, one that was looming over him, and threw their head back, which caused some of the black tar to splatter across the room and some even got on Ford. Their hands ran up their face then threaded through their hair and after wiping away the black tar from their face, he was met with a pale face a bright ruby red eyes with thin slitted irises. The figure before him appeared as a tall, long-limbed, broad-shouldered adult man of indeterminate but reasonably young age, with jet-black hair with his bangs falling slightly over his eyes and strands on the sides of his bangs framing his face though the length seemed to vary because his hair seemed to be part of his shadow while bearing this form. The outfit he wore comprised mainly in a classic Victorian fashion. It includes a white long-sleeved shirt with an intricately knotted red cravat under a black double-breasted suit with red buttons, matching black trousers, and a pair of dark brown leather riding boots, covered by a red, split, and full-length, long coat with ruffles exclusive to the shoulders “I must say, you have quite a sense of fashion, Fordsy~” the man cooed softly, twirling a strand of his black hair around his finger. 

“W-What?” he spread his arms open then gestured to his being. 

“This vessel was created to adorn the appearance my contractor so desires. As I said, I have no face, no sex, no appearance of my own. Whenever someone signs one of my contracts, I take up the appearance that my contractor feels most comfortable.” he then leaned down until his face was inches away from Stanford’s “This appearance was modeled just for you, Fordsy~” he was promptly shoved away, causing him to break out into a fit of laughter. 

“And the personality?” he shrugged. 

“Taken from someone you once cherished.” this caused him to look away, he dusted himself off and bowed his head once more “I am Alvah, the Harbinger of Chaos, and I am at your every beck and call until our contract is fulfilled. How may I be of assistance today?” Stanford stares down at the demonic being he summoned, his eyes full of so many thoughts, before taking the hand that was offered to him. 

“We’ve got a lot of work to do.” 

… 

… 

“So…” the children, Wendy and Soos, stared at the screen with mouths agape after the screen turned back to static, indicating that the memory had finished “McGucket erased the memory of when Alvah and Ford made their contract.” 

“That he did.” they all let out screams of surprise at the sudden voice, looking up, they were met with the female version of Alvah, who was chuckling softly that she managed to scare them “I believe he was going to shoot Fordsy with it, but since I came to his house that fateful day, he used it on me instead.” they all stare up at her in shock before calming themselves down, she then casually leans against the TV as Dipper approaches her. 

“But… if he erased that memory, wouldn’t that mean you should have forgotten what you were meant to do?” she shook her head. 

“Oh, no. You can’t erase a mind so vast. To me, it felt like the moment you walk into a room and forget what you were supposed to do but remember it an instance later when you’ve left that room. If he wanted to completely erase my deal with Ford, he would have had to shoot me with that gun a good hundred times.” she takes the memory tube and tosses it up and down a couple times “That day was one of Ford’s lowest moments, where he didn’t know what to do and had nobody to turn to. Yet, I had not abandoned him. I believe that since he was in such a dire situation, that was the reason he agreed to sign a contract with me. If he were any saner, I don’t believe he would have.” 

“So… how did you and Stanford meet anyways?” Wendy asked “From what we saw, you were confined to mirrors and shadows. What was your relationship with him?” this caused her to laugh. 

“For the second part, I was more like a caretaker or maybe a babysitter?” she shrugged her shoulders while giggling “That man could not look after himself, and after Fidds left him, it was up to me to keep him from doing something that would end up with him not waking up the next morning. It was almost sad.” 

“And the first part?” she raised a brow, Dipper twiddled his thumbs nervously “H-How did you two meet?” she looked up in thought, exhaling deeply through her nose. 

“Well, that’s a long story.” she glanced back over at them, chuckling a little when she saw them looking up at her with anticipation “Well, it all started about… thirty years ago, I believe.” 

Flashback… 

“What do we have here?” the Harbinger of Chaos approached Bill within the Nightmare Realm after his return from a dimension, to which he was peering into said dimension through their windows “You seem to be in a jolly mood, Cipher? May I inquire why?” they hummed softly when Bill let out a boisterous laugh, looking away from what he was looking at to look up at them. 

“Hahaha, I just found the most gullible human ever!” he gestured for them to peer into the window, and there their eyes laid upon a young-looking human man “Get this, I recognized his brilliant but cocky and insecure nature, and I used his near-friendlessness as ideal conditions for manipulation, so I introduced myself to him as a muse who chose one brilliant mind every century to inspire.” they let out a hum as they watched the human man write stuff down in a worn-out journal. 

“So, he’s the next pet to build your portal?” he nods his head. 

“Uh-huh. I showed him the blueprints for the portal, and he said he’d get started on it immediately. Psh, this has got to be one of the easiest suckers I’ve ever got to construct the portal in like, what, centuries?” 

“Possibly longer, but I must agree, this guy seems to be very naïve.” 

“I know, right? At least the other humans I tried to get to build my portal were more skeptical, but this guy is just dancing in the palm of my hand. It won’t be long before I can finally get out of this janky hellhole.” he heard a chuckle and let out an oh, looking back up at them “A very nice hellhole, since you can’t exactly leave.” they just gave a shrug in response. 

“Oh, it’s bearable. And besides, I can technically leave whenever I want, I just have to abandon this body in the process.” he lets out a hum “I’m somewhat curious about him, you wouldn’t mind if pop in and bother him from time to time, do you? He looks fun to make fun of.” Bill laughs. 

“Sure, go ahead. As long as you don’t distract him from completely the portal, I don’t care what you do.” 

And that’s where they found themselves watching Stanford Pines, hidden within the shadows that surrounded the man. They had to admit, he definitely had a brilliant mind from the mass amounts of research he managed to accumulate throughout the six years he resided in the hick town that was Gravity Falls, but he was just so damn stupid. Apparently, he found murals about Bill Cipher hidden within a cave and thought “oh yes, this doesn’t scream demonic entity at all” and managed to summon him, or rather, just caught his attention. As they continued to watch him, before his little assistant arrived, he was rather neglectful of his own well-being and would go days of staying hunched over his desk figuring out equations. 

“You’re quite dumb for a man who proclaims to be a genius.” they laughed to themself when they saw Stanford, who was currently brushing his teeth, spit out what was in his mouth and whip his head around in search of the voice “I’m right here, dumb, dumb. Look up.” he slowly raised his head to look at the mirror, squinting his eyes the longer he stared at his reflection before jerking backward when a grin spread across his lips. His reflection slowly started to laugh until a sort of darkness wrapped around his body and he was staring at a shadowed version of himself, a bead of sweat bled down his face when beading red eyes appeared all over his body and stared at him. 

“W-What…?” his reflection chuckled. 

“For a human who uses such big words to make himself much smarter than he actually is, I feel quite proud that I’ve rendered you speechless.” it felt unsettling to hear his voice even though he did not speak, his relfection’s finger draws circles in the glass “I’ve been watching you for some time, Stanford Pines.” he quickly grabbed his glasses that were sitting on the sink and put them on, staring at the figure in shock and awe. 

“You know my name?” they roll their multiple eyes. 

“Yes, I just said I’ve been watching you. I was bound to pick up your name.” they hum softly when his face flushed up in embarrassment “Anyways, I can’t help but say that I’m impressed that you managed to gain Bill’s favor.” the mention of Bill caused him to perk up, a little smile gracing his lips. 

“Really?” they huffed. 

“Sure. He’s gathered many brilliant minds over the years throughout the multiverse, but I’ve never seen him favor one specific human before. He’s given a lot of his time to you, and as I said, I’m impressed. Humans, in particular, are his least favorite. Still, he seems to put his distaste towards them to the side for you.” their gaze hardened a little when he saw the way his face flushed up, but this time, for a different “… anyways, I was just spying on you to see what all the hype was about. I don’t really see much.” they snickered when they saw how his face fell and looked back at them, his face scrunching up in confusion. 

“What do you mean by that?” they hummed softly, crossing their arms and turning away. 

“I thought you were smart, perhaps you can figure out why I don’t find you as interesting as your little muse does~” they laughed to themself when his face flared up, so they pointed at him as they continued to laugh “Haha, your face looks so funny when you do that! Do it again.” Stanford scoffed and turned around to leave, thinking that whoever this being was could only communicate through mirrors. 

“Hmph, I don’t know what you are, but I’m smarter than you think I am.” 

“Oh, really?” he gasped and saw the way the red eyes appeared on his shadow on the wall “I bet you were thinking I was confined to mirrors and your reflection, but no. I can appear within your shadow as well. Nowhere is safe for you!” throughout the day Stanford had to put up with them making fun of him and teasing him, even when he tried to cancel out the noise with music, they found a way to interfere with the soundwaves so he could hear their voice. They were now back in the Nightmare Realm laughing their head off with Bill Cipher, who was now dealing with the aftermath of what they did to Stanford “He is so fun to mess with!” Bill snorted. 

“I’ve got to thank you, though he’s just complaining, he seems to be leaning on me more. Telling me how this “shadow has been bullying him”, just a little bit of reassurance has him trusting me more and more. Keep it up, would you.” 

“Hah! Like I’d give up making fun of this human! I haven’t been this entertained in years.” 

Over a couple of months when the progress of the portal had just begun, both Bill and them would play their little game with Stanford Pines. Where they would poke fun at him and point out his little mistakes while Bill would reassure him and help him figure out the problem, this led to Stanford trusting Bill more and more and cementing them as the bad guy. Though their power didn’t revolve around the mindscape like Bill’s did, they were still very much able to enter it, and they made the poor mistake of entering Stanford’s mind and witnessing how deep his obsession with Bill ran. Hmm, though they also made fun of that Fiddlestick guy, they were now beginning to prefer him with how… weird, Stanford was. 

“So… Bill tells me you’re known as the, Harbinger of Chaos?” he asked questionably. 

“Ooo, finally curious about me?” they asked within Stanford’s shadow, he had the light cast behind him so they could be “sitting” across from him “I thought you’d never ask any questions about me. Bill tells me you’re not quite fond of me.” he huffed. 

“Of course, because unlike him, you make fun of me.” he saw the way they rolled his eyes, if only this poor sucker knew “But I can’t stop my curiosity. I asked Bill about you, but he told me if I wanted to know more about you it’d be best if I were to ask the source itself.” they leaned back in the seat they were in and shrugged their shoulders. 

“Well, shoot, dumb, dumb. Ask away.” they laughed again when he pouted, calling him dumb dumb always got that reaction out of him so they resorted to calling him that from time to time. 

“Mm, so what Bill has told me, you’re not exactly a… person, per say?” 

“Well, it is hard to put it into words, but let’s just simplify it and say I wasn’t exactly born like you, your friend, or Bill Cipher. I was not created either. I have been around since the beginning of all that was created. I am simply the manifestation of evil throughout countless dimensions; an amalgamation of all that is evil. I AM evil itself, that managed to conjure a consciousness and become the very being that I am today.” they raised their hand and Stanford managed to see their hand glow red “I am every bad choice you make, every selfish action, every terrible mistake. I am the influence that drives you to do bad things.” 

“So, you tell people to do bad things?” they shook their head. 

“No. I don’t tell people to do anything, it’s their fault that they ended up doing something bad, not mine.” he nods his head as he writes down what they said in his journal. 

“Does that mean you’re the very definition of evil?” 

“That it does, but that doesn’t particularly mean that I am evil.” he watches as the glow floats around their hand “My being doesn’t exactly have the concept of “feelings”, you know? I don’t feel like being the bad guy or being the good guy either. I don’t feel joy, anger, sadness, fear; I can replicate those feelings, but I myself can’t exactly feel anything.” 

“Do you feel pain?” 

“Hmm, well, there hasn’t been anything in existence that’s able to harm me. Bill is quite literally the only being that is of equal power to me, but there is a being more powerful than us. You could say that is when I do feel the fear.” Stanford perks up at that, raising his pen a little. 

“Oh! Bill has mentioned such a being before.” they nod. 

“So, he has. He doesn’t like to mention it, but they make him nervous as well. Don’t tell him I told you that, he’ll get fussy. Anyway, there hasn’t been a time where somebody has managed to hurt me, much less leave a mark. I’m more of a neutral being, I don’t care for world domination, and I don’t care enough to save worlds. It’s none of my business; not my circus, not my monkeys.” 

“I see. Bill tells me that his and your powers are somewhat similar.” it takes them a second to understand what he meant before perking up, snapping their fingers in remembrance. 

“Ah, yes! Bill has his “deals” to inhabit his host's minds and “cross over” to your world. Unlike him though, I can appear here whenever I want. I don’t need a gateway like he does. Anyways, while he has his deals, I have my contracts. The terms of the contract are set by both me and my contractor, only when we agree and sign the contract may I physically enter their world. They’re stricter as well, we must abide by the terms and conditions, or else the contract with be null and void. We must follow it to a T, or else the contract with destroy itself, and my physical body will cease to exist and I return back to the Nightmare Realm.” 

“And what about your real body?” 

“It becomes stationed. While I am still able to infect other universes with my chaotic influences, it’s not nearly as effective if I were to do it myself. If I want to control the physical body I created in this dimension, I would have to give up the consciousness in my main body to control that other one. My powers are also limited, so while I can easily erase a planet from existence, my powers would simply be reduced to where I can only decimate a city.” 

“That’s… still very threatening.” they shrug their shoulders. “You mentioned your real body? Each time I’ve seen you, you’ve only taken up my appearance. Are you faceless?” they hum. 

“I am. I am neither man nor woman, I am not a being that can be identified by something like sex or pronouns. I have no face and no physical appearance to call my own. However, if a being lesser than I were to witness my true form, their minds would slowly descend into madness from all the chaos stored into one being.” 

“Can you describe what you look like? 

“Hah, are you going to attempt to sketch me?” he nods. 

“Your chapter won’t be complete without it.” they stared at him for a couple seconds then laughed when he raised his head, waiting for them to say something, they just gently shook their head. 

“Alright, okay. I have a body made up of a chaotic tangle of writhing, red tendrils, and jagged lines adorned with numerous glowing red eyes that peer out from the dark depths of my flesh. That’s all you’re going to get.” this caused Stanford to look up at them, mildly frustrated at the brief description, but he took up the challenge and started sketching with what he was given. They both sat in silence and all that was heard was the repeated strokes of Stanford’s pen sketching across the page, they were quite impressed that he was drawing with a pen instead of a pencil. After what they believed was an hour of Stanford consistently stopping to think and continue to draw, he let out a sigh and dropped his pen to pick up his journal. 

“How does this look?” they lean forward and Stanford watches as their collective eyes shoot open and look at the page, he was startled when his journal was plucked out of his hands by an invisible force but when he looked down, he saw that the journal’s shadow was grabbed by them. Looking back up at them, he saw how they held the journal close so their eyes could take in his sketch “Is it… good?” a soft chuckle left them. 

“Hah… alright, I’m starting to see it.” they lowered the book, and he saw something genuine in their eyes “With the limited information, this is surprisingly the most accurate depiction of me. Well done, Fordsy, you’ve won my praise.” they hummed when he became flustered, of course, he would, he’s never been praised by them before, so it made him feel special. 

“Oh, well, it’s nothing much. I did struggle a bit.” 

“Don’t humble yourself, Fordsy.” they turned the book around so he could see his sketch “Not once, in the trillions of years I’ve been alive, has anyone made a sketch as accurate as you have. Nobody can look at the real me without their minds declining into madness, and lesser beings aren’t skilled enough to draw a sketch this good with the lack of details. This is most likely the first and last sketch of me. Be proud, Stanford.” they huffed softly at the soft hue of pink appearing on his cheeks as he sheepishly rubbed the back of his head. 

“Thanks.” he gasped softly when his journal was tossed back into his hands. 

“Don’t expect to hear more praise from me for a while, that’s Bill’s job.” Stanford chuckled, feeling more at ease with the being that was harbored within his shadow. 

“Sure…” their eyes stared curiously at him when his face scrunched up in thought “I hate to be rude, but is there anything else I can address you by? The Harbinger of Chaos is a bit of a mouthful, and I don’t exactly want to call you chaos or evil, so…” this got a laugh out of them. 

“I don’t have a name. Not even Bill calls me anything. I just… exist.” Ford blinked at them, his face softening a little. 

“Can I… give you a name?” 

“What am I? A pet?” they laughed when he raised his hands and shook them. 

“No, no! It just… it just makes it easier to address you? Yeah, that’s it!” they sat there staring at him as he tried to defend himself, but they just scoffed, leaning into their seat as they crossed their arms. 

“Alright, Einstein, give me a name.” this ceased his needless chattering, and they sat in silence once more as he tried thinking of a good name that would best suit them, he mumbled a couple under his breath but he noticed the way their eyes would crease in displeasure at a couple so he kept thinking “If I don’t like it, I’ll skin you alive.” this caused him to start thinking harder. 

“Um, how about—no, no, that doesn’t sound good. Uh, erm… oh!” he snaps his fingers, face as bright as a child on Christmas day “Alvah! How does that sound?” he started to shrink in on himself when they said nothing but stare at him “W-Well, Alvah is a gender-neutral name with Hebrew roots. Translating to “his highness” or “rising,”.” 

“… you do know the biblical meaning to the name “Alvah”, also means evil, right?” this caused him to pause, looking up in thought before crumbling due to the fact he forgot that small detail, he jumped a little when they started to laugh “I like it.” 

“W-Wha— really?” they nod their head. 

“Yes, Alvah. It has a nice ring to it; I like the name, and I like the fact that it correlates to my being. You’ve won my praise again, well done.” Alvah rolled their eyes when Stanford became flustered once more “Don’t let it go to your head, alright.” 

“Heh, I’ll try.” they both share a laugh. 

Alvah didn’t want to admit it, but Stanford was beginning to grow on them, not enough to stop him from completing the portal, but enough that they started to… care, bleh. They never once cared for him when he would wound up falling asleep at his desk how his sleep schedule became worse and worse, or how he would never eat or restock on food, or even have a shower once in a while. Never once they did care about how he neglected his well-being but ever since the day he gave them that name, their perspective on him changed. 

It was one of those days were Stanford decided to continue working on the portal and he fell asleep at his desk, his shadow loomed over him and Alvah’s form slowly took over and looked over his sleeping form. Humans don’t particularly feel great in the morning after sleeping in such an uncomfortable position, and because they can’t exactly touch his physical being, Alvah used different shadows to pick Stanford up using his shadow and carry him to his bed where he could get some hours of comfortable rest. Stanford would always wake up confused when he found himself in his bed, sometimes asking Fiddleford if it was him that moved him to his bed, but his assistant would deny any involvement in such a thing. He thought it was his muse that possessed his body to move him to his bed, so after asking him, he was met with laughter. 

“Oh, that? Alvah, or whatever you named them, is the one that moves you.” this stunned him, Alvah? “I’m surprised too. Sometimes I would catch them in the act, but they just say they’re doing it, so you won’t cause any hiccups when building the portal. Gotta say they’re always one to think ahead. So, stop falling asleep at your desk, alright?” Bill’s eye narrowed on Stanford when he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“R-Right, I’ll try and stop that.” back in the Nightmare Realm, Bill found Alvah peering into a universe with a human and talking dog. 

“I didn’t think you’d begin to care about our little pet human, Alvah.” this caused their hands to jerk back as they turned to look at Bill. 

“Whatever do you mean?” he hummed. 

“You don’t like humans. You find them one of the most repulsive living flesh bags there is, so I don’t understand why you’re beginning to care about this one.” this caused them to huff, snapping their fingers and the window of the universe they were just looking at disappeared and the one of dimension 46’\ appeared so they could watch Stanford and Fiddleford continue their work on the portal. 

“I thought I was doing a good thing for you, Bill. His progress has slowed a little because of him neglecting his body, would you rather his health to decline while he’s in the process of completing his project?” Bill narrowed his eye on them for that, he had noticed the way Stanford’s work had become a little sloppy because of his wanting to please his muse “I’ll stop if that’s what you want.” 

“Hmm, I guess you can continue your babysitting. I wouldn’t want him to mess up when he’s so close.” they laughed as they gently tipped his hat, causing him to reach for it when it fell off “Hey!” 

“If I didn’t know, you sound jealous.” their eyes creased when they saw his yellow body hue a slight red, whether it be of anger or embarrassment, they weren’t going to question him on it. 

“Jealous? Of what? You taking care of him? I can take him to bed as well!” 

“Mm, without hurting him?” Alvah laughed when he glared at him, the last time he possessed his body, he accidentally fell down a flight of stairs, but they were lucky he was only on the middle part of the staircase instead of the very top “Alright, alright. Now go, he looks like he misses you~” they cooed while pointing at Stanford, who was writing a new paragraph in his journal about his muse. 

“Well, duty calls.” they waved him goodbye and went back to doing their job as Bill returned to Stanford, however, even they began to question why they were looking out for the human. They jotted it down to just looking out for the human for Bill, he needed him alive and healthy for his portal to be complete so he could leave this awful place. If he leaves and takes over dimension 46’\, it’ll leave them in the Nightmare Realm all by themself, which they honestly would prefer. They would have their peace and quiet once more and not have to hear Bill’s consistent chatter about world domination, perhaps he’d let Stanford live, he did have a soft spot for that human. Whatever, it’s none of their concern. 

Until it was. 

“Hey, Alvah.” they let out a hum as Stanford sat across from them as they played a game of chess, letting him know that they were listening, they stared at the pieces on the board as they thought of where they should move their rook “You know a lot about, Bill, right?” he noticed the way their hand pause for a second before slowly moving their rook across the board. 

“I do. Why? Are you curious about something, Fordsy?” their eyes look at him curiously. 

“I believe he is… hiding something from me.” they hum again, watching Stanford move his pawn forward “I can trust you, right?” they shrug. 

“Whether you trust me or not, I don’t care.” 

“Let me rephrase it then; have you lied to me at all?” they rolled their fingers on the armrest of the chair before letting it rest there but their finger started drawing circles in the air. 

“I do not lie. I may keep secrets, but I am not prone to lying. I don’t see a point in lying to someone.” 

“Even if it were to hurt their feelings?” 

“I don’t care about people’s feelings. I’ll tell you a bit of the truth, but I won’t tell you the full truth. It isn’t considered lying if I don’t tell you the full story.” he narrowed his eyes at Alvah’s logic, to which they shrugged again as they moved their bishop to take the knight that was previously being protected by the pawn “Now, why do you believe Bill is hiding something from you? Don’t you trust him?” they raised a brow when they saw him hesitate, now this is new. 

“It’s just, well,” he let out a sigh as he moved his other knight to take their bishop “Fiddleford and I are so close to finishing the portal and he’s been acting… different.” they tilt their head to the side. 

“Different? How so?” he laces his fingers together, pursing his lips as he tries to think of the words. 

“Well, he started to question where the origin of the portal had come from. When I told him it was from a close source of mine, he didn’t fully believe me but didn’t stop to question it.” he looked up at Alvah and saw that they were still listening, going so far as to roll their wrist to get him to continue “When I brought it up with Bill, he told me that Fiddleford was merely jealous that I managed to create such a complex machine.” 

“And? Do you believe Bill?” his eyes hardened a little. 

“I want to believe him, but Fiddleford would never think like that. He’s been my intellectual equal since our days in Backupsmore. I don’t believe he’d ever be jealous of me, but I don’t understand why Bill would say such a thing.” 

“How can you be so sure? Things could change over time.” they watch as he moves his rook but in retaliation they move their other bishop across the board, forcing him to use another one of his pieces to shield his king from being claimed “You should always be careful who you place your trust in, Stanford. One might take advantage of your friendliness, and you would never know which one is doing it. They’ll say nice things to weaken your resolve, and the moment you open your arms out to them, they’re stabbing you in the back to get what they want. But what do they have to gain out of it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, on one hand, Fiddleford dropped everything just to come and help you with this project. He left his wife and child and didn’t even stop to question what he was getting himself involved in, quite the dedication he has for his best friend. On the other hand, we have Bill Cipher. An interdimensional, dream demon who acknowledged your brilliance and chose you out of billions of other humans to be the one to complete his lifelong project. Taking time out of his routine to come visit you, whether it be in reality or within the sanctum of your mind. Both these individuals seem to hold a place in your heart, they are something special to you, and you are struggling to decide which one you should place your trust in.” they moved their rook forward and took out another one of his pieces, which forced him to move his king “So, who do you trust more? The one who was there when you were nothing, or the one who was there when you became something?” they moved their queen across the board and smirked to themself “Checkmate.” his eyes widened as he looked at the board and saw that their pieces cornered his king, he let out a sigh as he collapsed into the back of his seat. 

“I don’t know what to do.” 

“Well, sort your feelings out. Your mind is clouding your judgement, and one day, someone is going to get hurt because of your foolishness. Decide who to trust. But let me tell you one thing.” he swallowed thickly when their tone got dark “Be careful around Bill. He’s not all that he makes himself out to be. He is one too hold a grudge to those who have double crossed him, and though you might be his favorite, don’t expect him to go easy on you.” they started laughing before raising their hands to form a triangle over their left eye “Beware of the beast with just one eye.” Stanford shielded his face when darkness enveloped the room as their laughter rung out before it all disappeared, he swallowed thickly as he looked around in a daze. 

“Beware of the beast with just one eye?” Alvah watches Stanford in the shadows as he mulled over their words, they themself grinned rather mischievously. 

“The seed of doubt has been planted.” they snickered quietly before returning to the Nightmare Realm and waited for the chaos to ensue. 

And so, we’re getting closer to wrapping up this flashback, but also not quite there yet. Alvah already knew that Stanford and Fiddleford have almost completed the construction of the portal, but they hadn’t realized just how close, because whilst they were minding their own business in the Nightmare Realm, relaxing after fulfilling their daily chaotic routine, they were startled when a hole opened up and out of nowhere. Curiously, they did approach it and concluded that they had finally managed to successfully finish the portal, but what caught them by surprise was when a head poked through. Upon closer inspection, they recognized the human as Fiddleford, they tilted their head to the side as they stared at him while he looked up at them and their face slowly morphed into one of pure terror. 

"You... aren't supposed to be here." they spoke, voice disoriented through the chaos that was their body. They sighed softly when he screamed in fear so they did the only sane thing they could think of, they raised their hand and pushed him right back where he came from, and the hole disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. 

"What was that?" looking over they see Bill approach them, his singular eye tinged with curiosity. 

"I believe your toy has finally finished his project." this made the triangular figure glow with glee, clapping his hands joyfully as he floated circles around their head "Congratulations, Bill. You're finally getting your doomsday." he let out a laugh as he hovered in front of their face. 

"I know, right? I'm gonna go round up the others!" they wave him goodbye and can only imagine the look of devastation on Stanford’s face the moment he realizes that everything he had built was all for nothing, that Bill was taking advantage of him the whole time while they themself knew about it all and said nothing about it. It was probably a couple hours later where Alvah was laying in a body of clouds relaxing, they didn’t really feel fatigue or exhaustion like living beings, but it was very relaxing to just longue around and do nothing. Well, that was until they heard something in the distance. One by one their eyes would slowly open and dart around to try and locate the source of the sound but couldn’t find anything, so with a low groan, they pulled themself up to try and find it but jumped when something flew into their face. 

“What the—" suddenly their face started getting wet and when they moved their eyes to look at what it was, they saw that it was Bill “Bill? What happened? What are you—” they let out a grunt as they managed to rip him off their face like a sticker, they held him in front of them and there they saw that he was… crying? 

“Y-You’ll never believe it…” their eyes look at him in confusion. 

“What? What happened? Why are you crying?” he sniffled and moved so that he was sitting within the palm of their hand. 

“Sixer figured out what I was planning after that little mishap with specs, he swore “eternal vengeance” and shut down the portal.” this revelation caused a few of their eyes to widen a little, they didn’t expect that outcome “But it’s not like I was going to let him get hurt, when we were going to ravage his dimension, I was going to let him join our band of freaks. With that sixth finger of his, he would have fit right in!” they nodded their head and laid back down on the clouds. 

“So, what are you going to do now, Bill? That portal is practically finished, all you’ve got to do is switch it back on and you’ll have your apocalypse.” Bill knew he wasn’t able to do anything in the physical realm unless he possessed Stanford’s body, so he looked up at them with a hopeful look in his ey— “I’m not doing it for you.” he let out a huff at their words. 

“Why not?! You’re able to manipulate their dimension however you please! You’ve been watching him so you know how to turn the thing on, so you could just do it for me!” they just shrug. 

“Don’t wanna.” Alvah laughs when he got angry “It’s none of my business whether he abandons you or not. I never said I was on your side, nor was I on his side. I’ll do whatever is most entertaining to me.” they hear his growl under his breath before he floats off their hand. 

“Fine! Don’t help me. But I’m not letting Sixer get away with this.” they shrug and relax into the clouds. 

“Do what you want.” they laugh quietly to themself and watch Bill float away, probably heading to O’Sadley’s, a multidimensional pub in the Rock Bottom Asteroid Belt of the Vicious Spiral Nebula. They wait until they could no longer feel his presence within the Nightmare Realm before appearing within Stanford’s dimension, they’re in his house but they couldn’t find him, so they search outside and found him standing in front of a bonfire with all three of his journals in his hands “Whatcha doin’?” they laughed when he jumped, panicking when he nearly dropped his research into the fire but quickly caught them and held them close to his chest. 

“A-Alvah…?” he looked down and found them inside his shadow, they waved up at him but noticed how his face hardened “Did you know the purpose of the portal?” they titled their head to the side. 

“Yes.” he let out a groan, throwing his head back in frustration “I warned you from the very beginning, Fordsy? You’re quite dumb for a man who proclaims to be a genius. He was playing you from the beginning and I was giving you subtle hints about it, but you weren’t able to pick up on it. This is exactly why I called you dumb, dumb, dumb.” he never did like it when they called him that, but that’s exactly what he was, a complete and utter fool. He can recall the times where they hinted at the fact that Bill was lying to him, it was mostly during the times when he praised Bill, and they would call him a fool for saying such a thing and mock his intelligence.  

“Are you here to stop me?” 

“Stop you from doing what?” 

“From shutting down the portal! Isn’t that why you’re here?” they laughed again. 

“Hah! No. Bill did want me to switch it back on, but I don’t wanna do that. I could care less about what he wants. I wasn’t on his side to begin with, I was just here for the entertainment.” they blow a raspberry as they shrug “But remember what I told you, Stanford. He is not going to go easy on you, you better find a way to keep him out.” he swallowed thickly at their words. 

“Yes, you are right.” 

“I was right from the start. I told you; I don’t lie.” 

“No, no you do not.” 

Alvah watched from within his shadow as he tried figuring out a way to keep Bill out of his lab but allow him in, since he made that deal with Bill that allowed him into his mind, he was worried that when he fell asleep Bill would possess his body and attempt to reactivate the portal. Alvah clearly doesn’t care about the outcome, they stated they’re not on Bill’s side, but they didn’t say they were on his side either. He didn’t know if he could trust their word on it, Alvah wasn’t confined to his mind and could freely travel through shadows and any reflection, so he couldn’t think of a way to keep them at bay like he could with Bill. 

Alvah thought it was quite impressive that Stanford managed to input a retinal scan on the door to his lab, knowing that when Bill was in the possession of any sort of body, the pupils of their host tend to become thinner while their sclera turned a shade of yellow. So, when he did eventually fall asleep and Bill did come into possession of his body, they watched within the shadows how Bill punched the steel door until his knuckles started to tear and bleed, he then resorted to scratching at the door like a caged animal until he split his nails. Bill, when possessing a body, was restricted to the physical capabilities of his host, so they were a little surprised at the strength Stanford had to be able to leave marks on the door. When Bill eventually gave up and returned to the Nightmare Realm, they appeared on the wall where Stanford lay unconscious and stared at the state of the door. Covered in scratch marks and smeared with his blood, if they hadn’t witnessed what happened, they would never have guessed a human man caused that much damage, rather a blood thirsty beast clawing desperately to get inside.  

Stanford woke up in the morning and his hands were in agonizing pain, he thought he would have found himself in front of his lab door but instead he was in his bed once more. Lifting his hands out from under the covers he was surprised to see they were wrapped securely in bandages and on his desk was a bowl that had a hand towel drenched in a mixture of his blood and water, alongside it was a glass of water and what looked like his aspirin. He would have thought that it was Fiddleford that treated his hands, that he had returned after what he had put him through, but beside the glass of water was a tiny note. 

‘you’ve got a bit of cleaning up to do ~ a’ 

“Alvah…” he whispered softly, he looks back down at his hands and noticed that his nails were a little shorter than the last time he checked. He took a breath as he gently rubbed over the bandages; they were on his side. Back in the Nightmare Realm, Alvah ignored the distant crying and screaming and watched Stanford closely, their finger drawing circles through the window to his dimension. 

“Ah, I’ve got too much work cut out for me.” 

Alvah watched as Bill grew desperate while Stanford’s mind slowly descended into insanity, they didn’t know if his desperation was what kept their involvement with Stanford to a minimum, but he had yet to notice how it was them patching up Stanford with everything that geometrical freak was throwing at him. They themself didn’t understand why they got involved with Stanford, they didn’t understand why they were helping him, they kept telling themself that it was just to spite Bill. They didn’t like Bill all too much, that’s why they were on the human’s side. Well, it was quite funny seeing him throw tantrum after tantrum each time Stanford denied him access to his mind. The zombie incident was a mess, it was a little hilarious watching Stanford and Bill converse through sticky notes like the humans do in their educational prisons, the oddest one by far was Bill taping a snake into his journal and how he retaliated? Playing Bill���s favorite song “the world is small ever after for always” by Inkwell, unfortunately it was now replaying within the Nightmare Realm. 

They appear within Stanford’s room but noticed that he was nowhere to be found, they reappear inside his lab and don’t find him in there either. He couldn’t possibly be outside, the season changed to the colder one so there was no way he was outside unless he wanted to be frozen like a popsicle. Roaming the hallways of his barely lit shack, Alvah was struggling to find him, but when they searched upstairs, they noticed that one of his windows leading to the roof was open. It was the early morning, and the sun was up, but it was barely peaking through the thick clouds that blanketed the earth with layers of snow, but outside on the rooftop was Stanford. He was woken from his slumber when he felt a blast of freezing cold air blow through him, his eyes shot open, and it took him a couple seconds to realize that he was outside. His eyes slowly trailed downwards, and he realized that he was on the roof of his shack, his foot hanging off the edge as if he was about to step off. If his body wasn’t already shaking due to the cold, then his body started to tremble at the thought of Bill… he slowly pulled his foot back and inched away from the edge, hugging his body that was turning blue due to hyperthermia. How long had he been out here? He could barely feel his fingers and the snow was seeping into his clothes and melting, nothing feels worse than wet socks. Maybe it was due to him being lost in his thoughts or the sudden gust of wind, but his eyes widened when he lost his footing and started to fall. He clawed desperately at anything to catch himself but due to the layer of snow on his roof he found nothing to grab, a gasp left him he had practically fallen off the roof but was caught in midair by his wrist.  

“How’s it hanging?” looking up, he didn’t see anyone but when he looked forward, he had realized he had fallen in front of the open window where his shadow cast inside and there he saw Alvah had caught him by his shadow “Now what are you doing outside? It’s cold out, isn’t it?” they laugh as they pull him inside, placing him gently on the ground. Their head tilts to the side when they saw him shivering so they closed the window and drag him to where the fireplace was well lit and the song “Sweet Dreams” by Eurythmics was softly playing in the background, they disappear but reappear to drape a blanket over him to help. 

“T-Thank you…” they let out a hum, he looks down at his hands and saw they were wrapped in bandages and his body felt oddly sore, had the shock made him unaware of the pain he was experiencing? 

“Bill knows.” his eyes flicker towards Alvah. 

“He knows? H-He knows what?” 

“… he knows that I’ve been the one helping you.” he jumped to his feet but fell back down when a wave of exhaustion washed over his body, what did Bill do to him? “In the beginning I kind of let him do what he wanted with your body, but he almost took it too far and I had to intervene. Questioned what I was doing so I told him how I was just doing it because it was funny seeing him all angry at the loss of his favorite toy.” 

“What did he do?” they snapped their fingers, and he was suddenly in front of his TV and in their hands was a VHS tape. 

“You’re really not going to like this.” they put the VHS in the player and watched as the TV spurred to life, they watched Stanford’s face closely, and he was completely stunned. He almost didn’t recognize the wild-eyed hermit staring back on the TV; it was him. Or rather, Bill in his body, from the previous night.  

“Welcome back to the puppet hour with Bill! Say hi, kids! Today’s puppet is my old pal Sixer. Sixer’s had a rough day. But his night was rougher, wanna see?” as the TV displayed what exactly happened the night prior, they watched how his face contorted with a range of different emotions; disbelief, shock, anxiousness. On the floor, Bill had graciously littered the floor with polaroids of his adventures with little headings on them. He picked them up slowly but paused when Bill started speaking again, but this time, he heard another voice “What do you think you’re doing?” what he was watching was the moment when Bill was hammering nails into his hand, or, he was planning on hammering nails into his hand. He placed the first nail into the center of his hand but before he could swing the hammer down, his wrist was caught by Alvah grabbing him by Stanford’s shadow. 

“What does it look like I’m doing, Cipher? Interfering~” within the restrictions of Stanford’s physical capabilities, he struggled under Alvah’s hold “It was quite funny watching you mess with his body in the beginning, but come on now, doesn’t he need his hands? How are you going to get him to turn the portal on if you mess up his hands?” they’re laughing at the way Bill struggled to free himself from their grip. 

“So, you’re the reason sixer hasn’t given up yet!” 

“Am I though? Just watching the back-and-forth banter between you two is just so funny! If I didn’t know it, it seems like you need him more than he needs you! I didn’t think you’d be such a clingy, little ex.” Bill manages to throw their hand back, his twisted grin turned into a glare “Oh, but that’s right. You aren’t the one that’s meant to be thrown away, it’s supposed to be the other way around. I just didn’t expect the great and mighty Bill Cipher to be so… desperate.” 

“Clingy…? Desperate?!” they continue to laugh. 

“Am I wrong?” the video of their interaction ends there but he could tell that any time when Bill attempted to harm his body, Alvah interfered and made sure that not a lot of damage was inflicted on his body. Picking up a polaroid, he found one where a dart from a dart board was lodged into his temple, so he raised his hand and felt more bandages “I don’t think you want to watch this part.” this caused him to look back towards the TV, he watched in confusion as Bill limped towards a payphone and… he punched in Stanley’s phone number, h-he wouldn’t. 

“Hey, brother, it’s Sixer. I’m going to take a swim in the frozen lake tomorrow, so if you don’t hear from me, I just want you to know that it’s because I never loved you. Buh-byeeeee!” Stanford felt as if his heart was in his throat, but his eyes closed in relief when he heard the dial tone, the pay phone was out of order. The message hadn’t gotten through, he opened his eyes and saw how Bill turned back to address him “Tsk, tsk, tsk. Look what you made me make you do! Tomorrow’s tape is gonna be much worse. Want the show to end? Go downstairs and work on the portal. Or I’m gonna have to show you what I’m really made of.” Alvah eyes Stanford as the TV screen turned static, his face seemed to be a mixture of emotions again. This time, however, he looked completely livid. He stood to his feet and ripped the VHS tape out and threw it into the fire, watching it turn to cinders before screaming. 

“You have no power here! You’re just in my mind! I can outlast anything you can—” Alvah watches as he halts in all his movements, they let out a sigh when they know that Bill’s power over Stanford must before taking over his mind. They grabbed him by his shadow when he started to sway and placed him back down on his coach, laying him down as his body twitched and trembled due to the chaos going on inside his mind. They loomed over and watched him, his face contorting in pain, his breath becoming heavier as sweat dripped down his face.  

I don’t care. 

This human means nothing to me. 

Their misery is entertainment, that’s all. 

But… 

They lean closer to his face before letting out a sigh, raising their hand over his face and pressing their index finger the center of his forehead, whispering a few words under their breath and his face visibly relaxes. 

"That should be enough... hopefully."  

Stanford felt as if his body was paralyzed.  

Where am I? 

It felt as if his bones were being pulled slowly, slowly out from their sockets. 

It was excruciating. 

I tried to scream, but nothing came out— 

“Think, Sixer. You let me. In. Your. Head. Do you realize what I can do in here if I want? I can flip a switch that makes every neuron burn with pain beyond imagination. I can rewire your optic nerve so that the sky is below you, play a tone that gets louder and louder until you bash your own skull just to make it stop. I can delete memories randomly, just for fun. Maybe I already have. What do you want to remember? Your mother’s face? Your own name? Who are you anyway?” 

“That’s ridiculous! I’m… I’m…” his tried to think of his name but his mind what completely blank, a snap echoed through his head, and it came to him “I’m Stanf—” and he lost his train of thought again when the snap echoed once more. He pressed his hands to his head when he felt his sockets start to strain. Any and all his tendons would pop, his bones would slinter. He fell to his knees, on the verge of emptying what was in his stomach. 

“You’re my property. Don’t forget it. The hillbilly abandoned you, your father won’t want you returning without millions, you have no friends, and if you died out here in the snow, who would even miss you? And let’s not forget about your Alvah. You think they actually care about you? You think just because they’re still around they’re doing it because they like you? Don’t make me laugh. They don’t care about anything, much less a human with little to no value to them. They are one of the most neutral beings throughout the universe who never picks a side, who would watch a universe burn to cinders than lend a hand, who wouldn’t shed a tear or bat an eye at the sound of screaming and anguished cries! They won’t help you; they won’t save you, and they won’t interfere so long as I—Ah!” Stanford let out a gasp when Bill was suddenly blasted away from him, he felt something embracing him and pulled him back as Bill collected himself and came back “Wha—you! What are you doing here?!” he tried to look up at the figure, but a shadowy hand covered his eyes, their arms wrapped protectively around him as a voice spoke. 

“I’ve come to steal your precious little toy, Bill~” they let out a laugh, Stanford shuddered out a breath at the sound of a voice that was made up of what seemed like thousands of screams and cries, possibly even more “You sound like you’re projecting, poor, sweet, little Billy. Are you still mad about what happened all those years ago? Talk about holding a grudge, huh? I was right about that one about you, Bill.” he managed to peek through their hands and saw the way Bill turned a bright shade of red as he got angry, his eye glaring at what he knew was to be Alvah. 

“You… why are you choosing to help him?! You don’t even have a contract with him, and yet you’re going to help him?! You’ve never done that for anyone! You’ve always just sat by and watched things happen! You’ve never interfered! You’ve never done anything!” 

“Who knows, but I do know that watching you like this is just the best thing I’ve seen in over trillions of years!” Stanford was pushed back, and he was met with the overwhelming sight of a dark black and red storm cloud where you could hear disoriented and agonizing screams “If taking Stanford Pines is what’s going to keep this game going on a little longer, than I’m willing to interfere just to see you become less of what you believe you are, Bill Cipher!” 

“I will never forget this!”  

Stanford awoke with a fright, shooting upwards and panting out in exhaustion. Looking down, he found himself sitting on his couch but after looking around he found his living room cleaned up with the polaroids pilled together and placed in a shoebox on his coffee table. He stands up and finds a little note sitting on top of the pile, picking it up, he felt his lip tremble as he read it. 

‘fine, I may care a little ~ a’ 

He didn’t care if Alvah was on his side because they found it amusing when Bill threw a tantrum, or because they found it entertaining to watch him lose his mind, but this goes to show that they were willing to keep Bill at bay for him. He holds the note close to him before turning on his heel, he knows what he has to do now.  

Meanwhile, the residents of the Nightmare Realm hid in the deepest corners of their dimension in order to keep away from the onslaught that was going on. Bill was screaming out in frustration while Alvah laughed their head off, the two of them in an ongoing battle where the Harbinger of Chaos wasn’t taking anything serious while Bill was trying everything in his power to erase them from existence. Two of the Nightmare Realm’s most powerful beings were fighting because one of going through a messy break up while the other was just bored, the Axolotl would be severely disappointed in them.  

… 

… 

“And that’s my past with Stanford.” she ended with a fond smile, thinking back to that day thirty years ago. While she was telling this story, she refrained from dropping Bill’s name or any involvement of him and merely referred to him as “his muse”, Ford would be angry if she told them about his deal with Bill instead of him, so she was going to wait “In the beginning I was just an insufferable guest, he came to like me over the course of the portal’s construction and when Fidds left him and went insane, I became a sort of caretaker to him. With how stubborn he is, I’m probably not going to get a thank you out of him.” she stood there and waited for a response, she looked at them and saw the way they were staring up at her with teary eyes. 

“You… you really cared for Grunkle Ford.” her face twisted into an incredulous one. 

“Care? That’s funny. I cared enough to keep him alive, but I didn’t care enough to keep him out of harms way.” she deadpanned when Mabel wrapped her arms around her legs. 

“You’re not denying that you care.” Alvah scoffed as she scooped up Mabel and placed her back down beside Dipper “Then what about Grunkle Stan? Do you care about him? What’s your past with him? When did you two first meet?” she chuckled softly. 

“Hmm, that’s something you’ve got to ask him about. Ever since my contract with Stanford, I had kept an eye on anyone relating to him. Albeit friends or family, but I kept my eye on Stanley for a long time.” she places a finger to her chin, looking up in thought “My first genuine meeting with Stanley is something I can’t particularly remember, I was always lingering around in the shadows helping every now and then. But I don’t think he’ll want to discuss such a memory, he’s been distant from me since the reveal, which is understandable.” she raised a brow when she saw the determination on Mabel’s face. 

“I will get that backstory, no matter what it takes!” with that the girl rushed off to find Stan, she just shrugged her shoulders with a shake of her head. 

“Did you, though?” she hummed at Soos’ question, he shrunk a little as he twiddled his thumbs “Did you actually care about Mr. Pines? O-Or even us? Was everything you did just an obligation?” they didn’t notice the way her face twitched a little, she let out a breath as she looked towards nothing in particular. 

“Who knows? But whether I care or not does not change the fact that I am here to protect you. You are under my protection, and I will make it so that Bill does not bring you any more harm.” Dipper flinched at the mention of Bill and rubbed his arms, he looked up and jumped slightly where he sat when he saw Alvah kneel down in front of him “And I am so sorry that I stood by and let you make a deal with him, Dipper. I saw you when he took your body, but I wasn’t allowed to do anything.” she could remember that day as if it were yesterday, when she, Wendy and Soos approached Bipper and when Dipper tried to stop them, he flew through her body. She remembered turning around and seeing the distraught look on his face, but she was forced to look away and pretend she didn’t see him, it really did make her feel remorseful. 

“W-Why couldn’t you?” 

“You should know about time anomalies, Dipper. That stupid time baby or whatever would be furious if I were to mess with this timeline even more so than I already have, if I were to have prevented such a thing I would get into even more trouble. My contracts can bend a lot of rules, but messing with the flow of time is a definite no.” she took his hat and ruffled his head “Why do you think I was lot more attentive back then?” he thought back to that day and did remember the pained expression on her face when she and Stan brought him to the hospital. 

“So, you couldn’t directly interfere with what happened over the summer, but you could intervene as long as you didn’t stop us directly?” she nods “Then, could you tell us what’s going to happen next?” she pressed a finger to her lips as she placed his hat back down on his head. 

“I can’t share any spoilers, now, can I?”  

“Alvah!” she let out an oh at the sound of her name being called, they all looked up and saw Ford at the door “I need you down in the lab, could you come and assist me?” she saluted him with a smile. 

“Coming~” he waits for her behind as she looks back down at Dipper, she winks at him and boops his nose “Duty calls. See you later, sweetpea.” they watch as she turned on her heel and walked out with Ford, her appearance changing back into her male version, the one that Ford prefers. He follows closely behind Ford, chatting with him as he speaks about a rift, and as they pass the living room his eyes catch Mabel and Stanley. He lifted his head up and noticed his brother and Alvah walk into the gift shop, the latter laughing softly as Ford spoke, he flinched when Alvah turned and met his gaze. He twiddled his fingers to greet Stan before turning away and going down into the lab with Ford behind him, he let out a sigh as he fell back into his chair. 

“Do you miss her, Grunkle Stan?” he looked down at Mabel before letting out a scoff, crossing his arms and looking away. 

“Miss her? After everything? Pah, I say good riddance! Am I a little upset that she’s hanging around my brother now? Maybe. Am I sad that I no longer talk to her anymore? Kind of… but that doesn’t mean anything! Clearly what we had meant nothing to her!” Mabel looked up at him, a brow quirked upwards as he rambled about everything that happened between them would be forgotten sooner or later. 

“I didn’t want to bring this up with you, Grunkle Stan, but I saw the night you two dance together.” she had to hold back a squeal when he flinched, his face turning bright red at the thought of that night “I saw the way you looked at her, but I also saw the way she looked at you. She told us how she isn’t able to properly feel emotions, but what I saw that night, I can guarantee you that wasn’t fake. She said it herself; she isn’t a liar.” he let out a groan. 

“But she hasn’t be truthful either!” Mabel’s gaze hardened on him. 

“Neither have you.” his shoulders slump, she let out a huff “I understand that you’re upset, but from what I can tell, everything she’s done leading up to this point has been on her own accord. Her helping us and everything, and with whatever you two had going on, I’m sure she did it all for a reason.” he rubbed the back of his neck “But she said she couldn’t quite remember when you two first met? She said she was always lingering around and watching, but her first interaction with you, she can’t really recall it.” he let out a breath as he leaned against the table, looking up in thought. 

“First interaction, first interaction…” her fingers were crossed, repeatedly thinking in her head “please remember, please remember”, he then shoots up and snaps his fingers “Oh, yeah! I totally remember!” she’s quick to take a seat beside him, looking up at him excitedly. 

“Really? What happened?”  

“Well, it was when the Mystery Shack was finally getting some traction.” it was just like any other day at the Mystery Shack, people come in, he lies through his teeth about the attractions in his house while sprinkling jokes in every now and then before scamming those poor suckers out of their money. It was at the end of the day when the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes upon approached him at the counter, he was at a loss for words as she looked at him. She had blonde hair that was the softest tone of blonde that he’d compared to sand on a beautiful sunny day, eyes as green as freshly cut grass that shun like an emerald if the sun hit them just right. Compared to these hicks, she was wearing elegant and formal clothing, so she stood out compared to the rest of the crowd.  

She was like a gem amongst a pile of rocks. 

“Good evening, Mr. Mystery.” she giggled softly as he gawked at her, his eyes blinking rapidly as she spoke to him in a soft voice, she laughed when he pointed at himself with a confused look “Well, yes. Is there anyone else that goes by the title of Mr. Mystery?” he cleared his throat and quickly collected himself, pulling on his collar but unable to cover the flush that spread across his cheeks. 

“I guess not. I am the one and only, Mr. Mystery.” he holds his hand out to her “The name’s Stan Pines, pleasure to meet you.” she takes his hand and shakes it. 

“I am Alvah, it’s lovely to meet you too.” she took her hand back and continued to smile up at Stan, he let out a nervous laugh. 

“Are you new around here? I don’t think I’ve seen you.” 

“I’ve been around here and there, but normally keep to myself. I heard the attraction going around these parts and decided to pay a visit to the “Mystery Shack” everybody was raving about.” she hummed softly as she gently flicked a jar of eyeballs “And I have to say, I see what all the hype is about. You have a very fascinating collection on your hands. Did you hunt them down yourself?” she slowly raised her brow when he pulled on his tie. 

“Ah haha, well. You could say I did, I mean, they’re here now, aren’t they?” 

“I suppose so.” they both noticed how the tourist was beginning to leave so Alvah took that as her cue to leave as well, she twiddled her fingers at him to bid him goodbye and proceeded to walk away but stopped when he called out to her. 

“Hey!” she stopped in her tracks and turned back to him, curious at what he had to say “Will you come again?” she tilts her head to the side. 

“Are you personally asking me to come again? I’m honored.” she giggled when he scoffed, messing with his tie again “I’ll come back every now and then. I’ll go broke if I come back every day with how much you charge.” 

“Y-You can come back any time! Hehe, free of charge…” she hummed softly, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger. 

“Well then, I’ll see you tomorrow, Stan.” she winks at him before walking out the door, unbeknownst to her, he had the derpiest grin on his face as he waved her goodbye. 

“Hehe, you’ve still got it, Stanley.” now he couldn’t help but scowl at the memory “I believe she only did that out of pity. Oh wait, she can’t feel pity, now, can she? She must have saw how pathetic I looked and decided then and there would be when she asserted herself with that appearance, knowing it would ruin me.” Mabel placed a hand on his arm and gave it a light squeeze “I knew… I knew that smile was just too good to be true. She outconned me.” 

“Well… what if she meant it? Didn’t she say that everything she’s done leading up to now, she’s never lied to you.” his resolve softened a little before shaking his head upon realizing what she said. 

“How do you know that? We were alone when she said that.” Mabel let out a nervous laugh. 

“Ah hahaha, were you? I totally wasn’t listening in on your conversation. Nope, not at all.” Stan shook his head and gently ruffled her head. 

“Our first meeting wasn’t anything special. She was just a tourist who claimed to be fascinated by what the Mystery Shack had to offer, but she’s probably seen even grander things than this junk house.” with that his face saddened once more, seemingly missing the bond both he and Alvah had before the cat got out of the bag, he had almost wished she wasn’t who she claimed to be. 

“Do you hate her?” there it was again, this time spoken by his niece.  

“… I don’t know.” Mabel just couldn’t stand for this. She may just be twelve years old, but that’s old enough for her to see what Stan and Alvah had. She saw the way they looked at each other, the way they spoke to each other and how could she forget that tender and intimate moment they shared on that night. This mishap couldn’t be the undoing of their relationship, and she’ll make sure of it “H-Hey, kiddo, where are you going?” he asked when she jumped off the stool and started running towards the vending machine. 

“Just to ask Alvah a couple questions!” he stood to his feet, reaching his hand out to stop her but was too late when she punched in the code to the vending machine and walked down the hallway to Ford’s lab. Back with Alvah, he was currently leaning over Ford’s shoulder as they were discussing their plan to seal a leakage caused by Stanley reactivating the portal once more. 

“So… are you really not going to thank Stanley?” he let out a scoff. 

“Thank him? For what?” 

“Well, for returning you back to your dimension. Surely you must feel some sort of gratitude.” he leans back when Ford turned around, giving Alvah an irritated expression. 

“He was the reason I fell in in the first place. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have had to be in there.” he hums softly. 

“That is true, then how about impressed?” this got a short chuckle out of him. 

“Impressed by what?” 

“Well, how about him teaching himself about quantum physics? Reconstructing the portal with only having a third of the portal’s instructions, completely unaware there were more instructions due to the invisible ink? Building it all by himself while also maintaining a business that was so successful and also looking after his great niece and nephew? He had no help either. Not from McGucket, Bill or even me.” he raised his finger, wagging it side to side in front of Ford’s face “If anything, your brother is goddamn genius. He has my praise.” he laughed when Ford smacked his hand away. 

“You’re giving him too much credit if you’re calling him a genius.” he shrugged and allowed his body to float, leaning backwards and resting his head in his hands. 

“What can I say? For a high school dropout who had no further education for himself, I am very impressed that he managed to reconstruct the portal the way he did. He had almost completed it by the time he got his hands on journal two and three, and it didn’t take him too long to complete it.” he smirked down at Ford, giving him a toothy grin “If that doesn’t make him a genius, then pardon me.” 

“You seem to like Stanley a lot. When we first met, you did nothing but ridicule me.”  

“Hah! Of course, I told you it was because you were stupid enough to fall for Bill’s flattery. The self-proclaimed genius who didn’t even realize he was being played. Unlike you, Stanley is emotionally intellectual. Though he didn’t admit it, he knew there was something wrong with me, always questioned why someone like me would hang around him. Sure, it was the same between you and Bill, but he had you in the palm of his hand in a couple hours. Stanley was a harder nut to crack. He liked the fact that he was getting attention from a beautiful woman, but he was so guarded it took a couple years for him to fully allow me in. Hmm, but I believe we’re back in square one now.” he shrugged his shoulders “He also makes me laugh.” this earned an eyeroll.  

“Yes, yes, because all you care about is whether or not you are entertained.” he snapped his fingers, now leaning forward. 

“Yes, exactly.” 

“Alvah!” both men jump at the loud call, turning around, they see Mabel abruptly enter the room with a determined look on her face. Ford briefly looks up at Alvah and saw him change back into their female appearance, he noticed that they tend to do that around the children and Stan’s employees. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” she answered, continuing to float in the air but this time positioning herself as if she was in a chair with her legs crossed “How may I assist you now?” she let out a yelp when Mabel grabbed her by the ankle and yanked her down. She now sat on her knees as Mabel held her by her collar, staring her in the eyes with a serious look, a bead of sweat bled down the side of her face. 

“How do you feel about Grunkle Stan?” she let out a sigh as she slumped in her hold. 

“This again? Are you ever going to let this go, Mabel?” she allowed the young girl to thrash her around and hang by her grip. 

“How can I?! His feelings are all over the place ever since learning that you were lying who you were all this time.” she muttered under her breath that she didn’t exactly lie if she didn’t tell the full truth, she was kicked by Ford, who promptly looked away when she looked back up at him “It’s up to me to clear up this entire misunderstanding. To help you fully understand your feelings for Grunkle Stan.” she only deadpanned. 

“Good luck with that, kid. This body isn’t exactly designed to comprehend emotions, I don’t even have a personality to call my own.”  

“That’s really sad.” Mabel let her go and she allowed herself to fall to the ground, the young brunette stepped over her and rushed towards Ford, who awkwardly stared down at her in mild curiosity “Grunkle Ford, do you have anything that can project people’s thoughts?” this caused Alvah to look up at Ford, who he himself looked up in thought while rubbing his chin. 

“Do I have something that can project people’s thoughts? Why, that’s very specific. If only I—hah! Of course I do.” he continued to rub his chin as he debated whether it would be a good idea “As much as I’d like to decline the usage of this machinery, I am also more curious as to what you have been up to with my brother the past three decades.” Alvah let out a huff as she pushed herself off the ground and began to float again. 

“And why should I allow you to use this on me? It’s quite dangerous to peer into the mind of the embodiment of chaos. Aren’t you afraid you’ll end up like McGucket?” Mabel let out a laugh. 

“Psh, like you’d let that happen. You like me too much, and besides, I’m adorable! Would you deny this cute face?” Mabel doesn’t wait to answer as she turned back to look up at Ford to ask, or rather plead, to use the device he mentioned. This left him to look up at Alvah and see the way she pouted with a tinge of pink flushing her cheeks, she was trying so hard to deny Mabel’s claims but was ultimately failing. That’s where she found herself sitting on the chair in front of five monitors, sitting particularly in front of a large screen while two smaller ones were to her right and left. If she remembered correctly, Ford dubbed this device as Project Mentem as a defense against Bill, which main functionality was that it could scan one’s mind and bioelectrically encrypt one’s thoughts “So we just put this thingamajig on her head and we can see her thoughts?” Mabel asked as she held the helmet in her hands, Ford nodded as he took it from her and approached Alvah. 

“It’s much more complicated than that, but yes, that’s basically what it does.” she looked up at him and saw he had a cheeky grin on his face, she sneered at him while shaking her head. 

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he chuckles softly. 

“This is a once in a lifetime opportunity. To see the thoughts of an actual deity is something I wouldn’t have imagined. I thank you greatly for this, Mabel. You children have quite the rein on Alvah.” she just shook her head; he placed the helmet on her head then pushed a couple buttons on the control console to which it on. All five screens spurred to life and the room illuminated with a green light, the two wait patiently for something to appear on the screen but were left confused when it remained blank.  

“Is it working?” Mabel asked, his face furrowed in confusion as he pushed a couple buttons. 

“It should be.” she snickered softly. 

“You’re going to have to try and little harder than that. If you want me to think about something specifically, you have to ask~ I can blank out my mind all willy nilly. Either that or I overload your machine. My mind has a vast amount of information.” Ford huffed at her, it was never going to be that easy “Of course not.” she stuck her tongue out at him when he glared at her, she turned her attention to Mabel when she approached her, grabbing her by the legs and looking up at her with a serious expression. 

“Think about your first real encounter with Grunkle Stan.” this sparked something within her mind and the screens behind her displayed her first real encounter with Stanley. Mabel was expecting the same thing Stan told her but was greatly surprised to see something entirely different, both herself and Ford took a step towards the monitors to try and figure out what they were looking at but couldn’t quite place it. 

“The first time I met Stanley was when you wanted me to give him that postcard, Ford.” his eyes widened when he saw Alvah’s male appearance appear on the monitor walking across an empty street to approach a rundown motel, he glared at a pedestrian that bumped into him but ignored them in favor to accomplish the task at hand. He looked at the postcard once more and shook his head at the lack of information on it, in handwriting unbecoming of Stanford that read “PLEASE COME”. He just shrugged his shoulders and walked through the parking lot and towards the various rooms, Mabel let out a soft gasp when she saw Alvah walk past the Stanmobile, so this really was her first meeting with Stan. His hand glides across the many doors until stopping at one in particular, he looks at the mailing address once more before raising his fist and knocking on the door “I have a postcard for Stanley Pines~” he called out as he repeatedly knocked on the door, Alvah had all the time in the world, so he continuously knocked on the door until it swung open. Stanford already knew that this was thirty years into the past but seeing the disgruntled version of his brother was something that caught him off guard, it almost felt like it was yesterday he saw this worn-out version of Stanley. 

“Alright, alright! Don’t you see the mail slot?” Alvah just chuckled as he held the postcard between his two fingers. 

“Sorry, but the sender wanted me to make sure you got your hands on this. Didn’t want this getting lost in the mail.” he holds it out for him to take and as Stanley reaches to take it, he cheekily pulled it back “Make sure not to lose this.” he laughed when it was snatched out of his hands while the shorter man glared at him, he just backed away slightly while raising his hands up. 

“Whatever man.” the door is then slammed shut, Alvah rolled his eyes as he dusted his hands off. 

“Welp, did what I was supposed to do.” with his task done he snapped his fingers and returned to Gravity Falls, the memory ends and they look towards Alvah “My very first impression of Stanley Pines was that of a pathetic human who had hit rock bottom. I was honestly surprised that this was the brother that caused you so much discontent, Ford. This was the so-called man who “ruined your life”, talk about living up to what little his name had other than disappointment.” Alvah was smacked in the leg by Mabel, who glared up at her after hearing what she had to share about Stanley. 

“That isn’t very nice, Alvah.” she shrugged her shoulders. 

“Well, that was me in the beginning, when I was still just Fordsy’s little shadow. After you disappeared into the portal and I was stuck in this hick town, I remained within Stanley’s shadow.” the monitors flicker on once more and they watched as she watched over him, while he worked days and nights to repair the portal and would fall asleep at his desk trying to solve Stanford’s notes. She would appear behind him and instead of returning him upstairs, she would retrieve a pillow and blanket and drape it over him so he would be more comfortable. When the Mystery Shack was slowly building up fame, she would be out influencing people to go pay a visit to the man displaying a world of mystery, and it was on that very day Alvah finally became the woman she was to the Pines Family “My opinion of Stanley changed over time. You could say his devotion to bring you back and to fix his mistake, dedicating his life to save you swayed my feelings about him. There was nothing more to it.”  

“Can you think of the instance you felt something for Grunkle Stan? Something that wasn’t displeasure or just an obligation to look after him? Something that had caught you off guard.” they watched as she furrowed her brows as multiple instances went by, but nothing stood out until she slowly perked up. 

“It was… the year before you two were supposed to have arrived. It was your birthday.” this startled Ford a little “Stanley never celebrated your guy’s birthday, I knew the reason, but he told me it was because he didn’t really have anybody to celebrate it with. I wasn’t around in the beginning because I was doing other stuff, but apparently, he planned a whole party. He spent hours writing up comedy roasts about his employees, but in the end… nobody came.” they look back towards the monitors and are met with Alvah walking down a street where she accidentally bumped into Soos. 

“Miss Alvah!” she smiled at him, waving her hand to greet him. 

“How are you, Soos? Today’s a lovely day for a stroll, is it not?” she raised a brow at the glum look on his face “What’s the matter, big guy?” he let out a sigh as he took his hat off and rubbed the back of his head. 

“Mr. Pines is celebrating his birthday this afternoon, but I won’t be able to make it. My Abuelita needs my help all afternoon and I won’t be able to make it.” that and the fact that he himself didn’t exactly like celebrating his birthday caused her to nod her head “I was hoping you would tell him I said happy birthday. There’s no way you would miss it!” she didn’t even realize it was their birthday that day, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. 

“Of course I will. I’m sure he’ll be saddened without you in attendance, Soos. Give your Abuelita my regards, sweetheart.” she let out an oof when he pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly while lifting her off the ground. 

“Thank you so much, Alvah!” he puts her down and rushes off, waving his hand goodbye as he ran off “I’ll make sure to make it up to you!” she kept up her happy face and the moment he disappeared her face relaxed as she looked away. 

“I spent the rest of that afternoon looking for a gift for Stanley. He is quite easy to please, so I found a vintage and expensive wine, but the hard part was finding a cake.” she laughed softly at the memory, the monitors display her at multiple bakeries and pastry stores in search of a cake but for some reason they were all sold out “In the end I had to make the cake myself. It didn’t end… quite well.” the monitors flickered to her attempting to make a cake but instead setting a kitchen on fire with a panicked look on her face, by the time the sun was beginning to fall she had finally made a decent looking and tasting cake after many trials and errors. She found herself in front of his front door and proceeded to knock on it continuously until it was thrown open, she pulled her hand back when he looked ready to shout at whoever was knocking before pausing when he realized who exactly was in front of him. 

“… Alvah?” she let out a soft laugh as she leaned forward to take in his appearance. 

“Haha, what happened to your eyebrow? Did you burn it off?” she questioned as she reached forward and brushed a few of his locks out of his face to get a look at the singed hair, she giggled when he smacked her hand away and turned away to hide it. 

“No! Anyways, what are you doing here?” he sputtered backwards when she lifted something up with a bright smile on her face. 

“It’s your birthday! I came to celebrate with you.” he stares at the rather pretty looking cake as she pulled something out and saw it was a bottle of wine “I would have come earlier but would you believe it? The whole town was out of cake, so I had to make one out of scratch. Let’s just say I’m not particularly good at baking.” she titled her head to the side when she noticed he was just staring at the cake. 

“You made this… for me?” 

“Who else would I make this for?” she pushes him inside and closes the door behind her, he follows her like a lost puppy as she walks into the kitchen and places the cake on the table. He takes a seat as she grabs two glasses out of the cabinet and places one in front of Stan and another where she was going to sit, she uncorks the bottle and pours them both a glass before pulling out a candle and placing it in the center of the cake “Soos wanted to be here as well, but you know how he is around birthdays. And besides, having a simpler birthday is much better than going all out. Saves you a lot of money, doesn’t it?” she finally took a seat at the table and stared at him with a fond look in her eye, leaning against the table with the side of her head resting on her knuckles. 

“You…” she hummed softly. 

“Happy birthday, Stan.” Alvah’s face turned confused when Stan abruptly stood up and walked over to her, she was startled when he pulled her out of the chair and wrapped his broad arms around her, embracing her in a rather bone crushing hug. Her eyes widened as he buried his face within her shoulder, her arms were pinned to her side while her head was over his shoulder, she managed to twist it a little to try and look at him but noticed the way he nuzzled into her shoulder to hide the fact that he was tearing up “S-Stan? Are you—” 

“Thank you, Alvah. I really, really needed this.” Mabel and Ford noticed the way her eyes twitch when Stan tightened his grip on her, she managed to slowly lift her arms up the best she could and gently pat his back. 

“O-Oh, it’s no problem. You know there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you, Stan.” she purposefully didn’t address him as Ford because that would have saddened him and taken his special moment away from him. They stayed like that for a couple seconds until Stan finally let her go but continued to hold her by the arms, she tilted her head to the side to get a look at his face but saw him turn away to hide his tear-stricken eyes “Hah, are you crying?” he frees one of his hands to cover his eyes, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. 

“No! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” he flinches when she pulled him forward by the hand that was holding her so she could cup his cheek, he blinks at her and felt her wipe away a few of his tears while smiling softly at him. 

“Come on, tough guy. You don’t have to hide your vulnerability from me, I’m not going to make fun of you.” he huffed at her as she takes her hand back, he sniffles a little and wipes away the remaining tears and gives her a toothy grin. 

“I appreciate this a lot, toots! I’m gonna go find a lighter so I can light this candle! I’ll be back in a sec!” she waves him off and stands in the kitchen alone, Mabel and Ford soon notice the way her smile dropped from her face as she looked down at the wooden floor with a conflicted expression. On the smaller monitors they saw a flurry of words come across the screen, words that had her questioning herself. 

WHAT IS THIS? 

WHY DID I DO THAT? 

WHY DID I DO THIS? 

I DON’T CARE FOR HIM. 

I’M DOING THIS FOR STANFORD. 

THIS MEANS NOTHING TO ME. 

I DON’T ACTUALLY FEEL... 

“In the beginning, I didn’t feel anything.” Alvah spoke as she stared at the monitor when Stan walked back into the kitchen with a lighter in hand and in a chipper mood, she smiled at him and the two sat at the table where he lit the candle and blew it out with a face that reminded her of a child on their birthday “I knew he was going to drink himself into a stupor had I not arrived, but I didn’t expect to feel...” Mabel looked up at her, a curious look in her eyes. 

“What?” her eyes flicker towards the monitor and saw only one word. 

“Pity.” coming from her, it could be condescending, but by the remorseful look on her face as she stared at Stan’s face, they knew that she meant it in a genuine way “He just looked so sad, like a kicked puppy out in the rain. I had watched him at even worser times than that, but for some reason, actually being there made it different.” soon the summer played out for them and Mabel watched every interaction she had with Stan, and she watched intently as the way Alvah’s eyes started to look genuine. 

“Alvah, you...” 

“It was nothing. The personality I adapted was merely to match his own, but...” since the children were always off doing their own thing, they never knew the type of relationship she and Stan actually had. Ford witnessed firsthand the closeness she had with his brother and Mabel concealed her excitement of the hidden lore her great uncle had with this interdimensional being “My mind had been inside a human body for so long that it started acting like it, started feeling like it.” Mabel looked away to look up at Alvah after watching the memory where Alvah and Stan danced at the party where she first met Candy and Grenda. 

“Feeling?” her face scrunched up and instead of just Stan, it showed the children, Soos, Wendy and a few others as she thought of each emotion. 

“Anger. Sadness. Joy. Remorse. Guilt.” the memory of when the children were forced to be sent back home when Gideon had won and they couldn’t do anything about it, how when they did win, she felt an immeasurable amount of guilt inside her because she knew this was going to happen but it was at the cost of the possibly of the children losing that had her mind racing. The next scene had Ford’s eyes widened to the point his eyes were bulging out of his eye sockets while Mabel let out a squeal, that was because it was when Stan had kissed her “L-Love...” 

“You kissed my brother?!” he was shocked to see her face a bright shade of pink, she suddenly sprung to her feet as she placed a hand on her chest. 

“No! He kissed me! And it’s not like I continued to think about that moment! It was just a spur of the moment and Stan probably would have done it to anyone that was next to him! It didn’t mean anything at that moment!” 

"... I didn't, NOT, like it." she looked like a dear caught in headlights when her thoughts were exposing herself "You just... caught me off guard, is all. I wasn't expecting it." 

"Oh? So, are you saying if I were to kiss you again, you wouldn't protest?"  

"Don't push your luck, Stan. Just because I said I liked it; doesn't mean you'll get a taste anytime you want." Alvah refused to look up at Ford from where she was sitting because she knew that man was going to strangle her, however, Mabel was in front of her and started shaking her arm. 

“So you two were in love! That’s so cute!” she let out a scoff, face still flushed with embarrassment from being caught while throwing her hair over her shoulder. 

“Psh, in love? That was the only time--”  

"Stan... Stan, s-stop it!" Mabel was busy staring at Alvah so she didn’t see what memory was playing but Ford was, and to think he’d wish for the day he wasn’t wearing his glasses. Before Mabel could see what was playing Alvah hurriedly lifted the helmet off her head and the monitors switched off, they both look up at her and saw the look of shame on her face. She pushes the helmet into Ford’s hands before slowly kneeling on the floor and curling up into a ball, her hands clutching her head “I wasn’t supposed to get attached... I wasn’t supposed to gain human feelings.” Mabel knelt down and placed her hand on her back, gently rubbing circles into her back to comfort her. 

“But you did, and it looks like it’ll really upset you if Stan started to hate you.” her face scrunches up in confusion. 

“I am hated by millions of people just for simply existing. I am the devil on people’s shoulders who they blame for why their lives have fallen apart. I am so used to being the source of their hatred that I never once cared for the opinions of beings lesser than I am. But... I—I can’t stand the thought of Stan not liking me anymore.” she looked up at Mabel with a sort of desperation in her eyes “I wasn’t supposed to care, but I hate that I do now.” 

“And I’m happy that you care.” Alvah huffed “Now just repeat what you just said now and go say it to Grunkle Stan.” this snapped her out of whatever melt down she was having; she stood to her feet and shook her head. 

“No way! He doesn’t need this now!” Mabel shook her head and took Alvah by her hands. 

“But he does! He looks so lost without you. You two were always together throughout the summer, and not having you by his side is making him upset.” this caused her to start overthinking everything, should I actually tell him how I feel? Should I say sorry? Should I-- 

“Wait a minute, why I am taking the advice of a twelve-year-old?” she suddenly glares at her “I don’t got to listen to you! I am going to deny the fact that I have feelings for this old man and suffer in silence. Yes, that sounds much better.” Mabel face fell. 

“What? No! Are you seriously not going to tell Stan that it was him that caused you to develop human feelings? That it was him that got you to care?” 

“The last thing I need to hear is him gloating that he got an agent of chaos to fall in love with him. And besides, I highly doubt he wants me dating his brother.” at the mention of that, they both look at Ford and saw the way he was shaking his head at the thought “So, we are going to leave what we have just discovered in this very room. I don’t want to hear any of this outside this room. I don’t want to have to talk about the fact that I’ve grown soft. This conversation stays and dies here. Got it?” 

“But--” Alvah gives her a sharp look, Mabel let out a sigh and kicked at the floor “Got it.” she nods. Mabel leaves dejected that Alvah wasn’t going to do anything about this but she was determined to help her confess her feelings to Stan, yes, with a newfound determination, she was going to play cupid once more. Alvah stood in the room with Ford staring at her with an incredulous expression, she turns her attention to him with narrowed eyes. 

“You don’t get to speak. You had a relationship with a triangle.” she holds her hand up to keep him away when his face turned red from embarrassment “Oh, my muse~ I would do anything for you, even if it means the collapse of my mind, body and soul! Ooo, woe is me!” 

“Stop talking!” 

“So poetic, Fordsy!” 

season 2, episode 13. dungeons, dungeons and more dungeons 

after the fiasco that was the reveal of alvah’s true feelings, she had now taken it to the point of avoiding everyone and keeping herself in the basement unless she’s needed.  

that being said, mabel would come bursting into the lab and attempt to drag her upstairs so she could interact with them all, especially with stan. 

she swore never to talk about what happened, but she never said she wouldn’t do anything about it.  

dipper was really confused as to why mabel was more love crazy than usual. 

he felt sorry for the poor sucker his sister had her sights on this time. 

ford found it amusing seeing her act like a deer caught in headlights whenever she spotted stan before he saw her. 

it went so far as to her jumping out a window. 

she fixed it immediately. 

anyways- 

“Alvah... Alvah...!” Dipper shook the empty body that was Alvah until it stirred to life, her eyes blinked to life and looked around before settling on him in confusion. Ford explained to them that her body in this dimension was merely a vessel for her to take control of so whenever she was “sleeping”, it was actually her signing off and returning to her main body. Dipper calling for Alvah warranted her attention and caused her to come back to see what the young boy wanted, she didn’t expect to see him staring at her with a pleading but enthusiastic expression as he held a book in front of her “Alvah? Yes! Um, hey! Do you want to play Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons with me and great uncle Ford? He’s already agreed to play with me and two players is enough but three players would be even better! But you don’t have to play with us, I’m sure you’ve got even more important matters to attend to that I probably pulled you out of. You can totally say no! It’s fine. It’s totally fine. Ah haha, heee...” she stared at him with a rather scrutinizing gaze as she looked between him, the book and Ford standing behind him. 

... 

... 

She now found herself laying on her side with a thirty-eight-sided die in her hand, shaking it within the palm of her hand before tossing it onto the play mat where the other two nerds leaned down close to see what she rolled, she chuckled softly when Dipper cheered that she rolled a high roll while Ford sighed bitterly. Whether it be the fact that within this flesh bag she had grown soft or it was just the children having a way with her, she couldn’t deny Dipper’s plea to play his favorite role-playing game with him and Ford. She was well aware of the concept of Dungeons, Dungeons and More Dungeons after watching Ford and Fiddleford play it during their time building the portal and how it was similar to a different game, but she allowed him to explain it to her in great detail while giving her an already made character for her to play with. 

“Are you sure you’re not cheating, Alvah?” she scoffed, twisting her body so that she was laying on her back with her legs crossed, bouncing her knee every now and then. 

“Maybe you just suck at this game, Ford.” she smirked when she got a snicker out of Dipper, Ford hmphed at her while she stuck her tongue out at him. Dipper was having even more fun because instead of having figurines representing their characters, Alvah was using her powers to bring them to life while also creating a real layout of the story Ford created for their characters to move around. Both Alvah and Ford were magic casters, though Alvah was a sorcerer and he was wizard, while Dipper was a little ranger. Quite the odd party, but Alvah refused to be anything else “What are we up to now?” he hummed softly as he rolled a die between his fingers. 

“Alright, you enter the chamber. Princess Unattainabelle beckons you. But wait, it’s a trap!” she rolled her eyes as Dipper gasps “An illusion cast by Probabilitor the Annoying.” Dipper hands Alvah a couple die for her to roll as he and Ford shake their fists to scramble their own die within their closed fists. 

“You know his weakness, right?” Ford grins at Dipper. 

“Prime statistical anomalies over thirty-seven but not exceeding fifty-one.” the two throw their rolls down first, Dipper taps her shoulder and she throws down her die and allows them to tally up the amount “Yes! Ungh! In your face, cardboard wizard!” the older man hummed softly as he picked up the little cardboard screen meant for the DM to look at the main antagonist. 

“Hmm, the old boy looks a bit different than he did back in my day.” Dipper nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, they change the art every few years. Thankfully, you missed the period when the creators of the game tried to make it cooler.” this got a chuckle out of Alvah, he shuddered at the memory “Must’ve been dark times, those 90’s.” he spoke as he picked up a red card, even Ford grimaced. 

“Yeesh. Sounds like a good time to be stuck between dimensions.” 

“Great uncle Ford, I’ve been meaning to ask you. Where were you before you came out of that machine, and what have you and Alvah been doing down here? Are you two working on something behind that curtain?” this question caused the two of them to look at each other, she shrugged her shoulders and gestured for him to speak. 

“Dipper, it’s best if you and the family stay away from that subject. Honestly, I’m not sure any of you could handle the real answer.” 

“But-- But I can handle it.” Ford raised his finger to cut him off. 

“Ah-ah. But I can show you a little something I brought back with me.” they watch as he pulled out a little red bag from his pocket and empty the contents out beside him, a few more die spilled out from it but a peculiar black box caught their attention, her eyes widened when he opened it. 

“Is that... an infinity sided die?” she asked, Dipper looked at it in awe as Ford nodded his head as the young boy watched the symbols continuously change. 

“That’s so cool... and impossible.” Ford opened his mouth to explain but let out a soft gasp when the die flew out of the case and into the hands of Alvah, who held it close to her eye while turning it over. 

“I haven’t seen one of these suckers since the last galaxy was formed. I’m pretty sure these things are outlawed in over nine thousand dimensions.” Dipper gasped at that. 

“Why?” 

“Well, take a look at the symbols. Infinite sides mean infinite outcomes. If you rolled it, anything could happen. Your faces could melt into jelly. The world could turn into an egg... or you could just roll an eight. Who knows?” she huffed when Ford snatched it out of her hand and placed it back into the case, closing it before she could take it again. 

“And that's why I have to keep it in this protective cheap plastic case.” she scoffed with a laugh. 

“How safe.” he ignored her. 

“Now, back to the game!” Dipper had a splendid time playing DDMD with Ford and Alvah, she may not have been engaged like they were but at least she put in the effort to play with them and with her powers making it all come to life just felt magical to him. 

“I had so much fun! Thank you so much great uncle Ford, Alvah!” she twiddled her fingers from behind Ford. 

“Perhaps you could make the next one, sweetheart. I just know you’re full of ideas, Dipper.” he lights up. 

“Does that mean you’ll play again?” she gave shrug but nodded her head. 

“Yeah, sure.” she huffed softly when he wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her close, she leaned down to hug him back while patting his back “Perhaps you should go back upstairs. You’ve been down here all day, and surely it takes a lot of time to create a new adventure.” he pulls away from her, snapping his fingers at her. 

“You’re right! I’ve got a lot of thinking to do! Thanks again!” they both wave him goodbye as he ran to the elevator to head back to the shack, the both of them drop their friendly facades and turn back to where the curtain Dipper previously mentioned was. 

“So, you’re really going to keep this between us?” he spoke, his body naturally turning back into his male form “He’s going to figure it out, whether he stumbles down here accidentally again or you tell him yourself.” Ford let out a sigh as he looked over the console, tapping his fingers across the metal surface. 

“Stanley told me to stay away from the children, but so far, it’s been proven difficult because they keep approaching me. Or rather, they keep approaching me since you’re around.” he shrugged.  

“I’ve been looking after those kids the entire summer. I’m surprised they still even want to hang around me.” he said as he laced his fingers and cracked his knuckles above his head ”Anyways, where were we before Dipper interrupted us?” he approached the side of him with a sort of glass case in his hands. 

“Cleaning up my brother’s mess.” 

“Ah, right.” he entered the portal room and it took Ford a second to register what he said. 

“Hey, wait! What do you mean we? You were in the Nightmare Realm, dammit!”  

that entire week mabel and stan were preparing for the duck-tective finale and the day had finally arrived. 

mabel invited grenda to come over and watch it with them, she was more than happy to attend. 

stan, mabel and grenda enter the living room and were shocked to see ford and dipper had taken over the room, it being littered with papers of various equations from their ddmd campaign. 

they were even surprised to see alvah laying behind ford covered in papers herself. 

she was "asleep" after failing a saving throw and her character was killed off so she returned to the nightmare realm to take care of some business as she waited for them to finish but continued to use her powers to bring their game to life.  

they pleaded with them to move their game to a different room so they could watch their show but they were very adamant that they couldn't, saying they were going for a world record. 

stan takes it upon himself to remove a few of the graph papers but ford caught him by the wrist, halting him in his tracks. 

"Move that and pay the price." Ford threatened, his grip on his brother tight to prevent him from reaching any further. 

"Oh, what, fifty magical dwarf dollars?" 

"Don't mock our fantastical monetary system!" 

"I'll mock all I want. It's my TV room." 

"It's my house! You..." Ford takes a breath, sighing to himself as he squeezes the bridge of his nose "Listen, Stanley, did it ever occur to you that if you joined us, you might actually have fun? I mean, Alvah didn't need to but joined for Dipper's sake. I'm sure they'd love it if you played with us as well." Stan's gaze hardened at the mention of her. 

"What? Now you listen to me. As long as I live, I will never--" he snatches the bag of Ford's dice out of his hands, ignoring Dipper shouting at him to wait "Ever. Play your smarty-pants nerd game!" he declares before throwing it to the ground, spilling all the dice out onto the floor including the case that secured the infinity-sided die. Ford and Dipper watch in a panic as the case opens and the die bounces out and lands on a wizard symbol, the dice sparked onto the cover of the DDMD box and they all watch as the characters from the game come to life. 

"Mortals of Dimension 46'\, kneel before me and..." he rolls a couple die and throws them onto the board, leaning down to get a look at what he rolled before grinning menacingly at them "snivel! I am Probabilitor, the greatest wizard in all mathology, give or take an error of 0.4." 

"Uh, is this normal?" Stan questions as they all back away, Mabel and Grenda grabbing Alvah to pull her unconscious body away. 

"Have you come to send us on the quest of a lifetime, because we're the smartest players you've ever met?" 

"You are the smartest players I've ever met. That's why I'm going to eat your brains to gain your intelligence. Especially that one lying there. It's what I do." 

"It's his thing." 

"What?!" Dipper turns and grabs Alvah by her collar, shaking her body back and forth "Alvah! Come back! Come back right now! The game came to life and they're going to eat our brains!" Ford throws his coat back to reveal the gun strapped to his waist, he pulls it out and spins it around his finger before aiming it towards Probabilator. 

"Your math is no match for my gun, you idiot!" 

“Math ray!” Ford grits his teeth when he feels a blast of wind blows past him after shielding his eyes from the bright light that came from the man before him, he thought he was going to be thrown out of the room but was surprised to see a sort of red force field shield them all from the attack. A groan came from behind him so he looked back and saw it was Alvah slowly pulling herself up from the floor while her hand was shining a soft hue of red, Dipper let out a sigh of relief that he managed to get through to her and her body instinctively put up a shield to keep them out of harm's way. 

“I wasn’t even gone for that long, and you guys managed to get yourselves into trouble?” she’s on her feet now ripping off the graph papers they so rudely stuck on her when her body was unoccupied, it was when she took off the one stuck to her face was when she paused and stared at Probabilator when she turned around and started to leave “Good luck, you guys.” they stare at her in shock. As she passes Stan, he caught her by the arm to stop her in her tracks, and though the situation is dire, Mabel doesn’t miss the way Alvah flinches when he turns her around. 

“What do you mean good luck? Didn’t you say you’d keep us out of danger?!” she gave a shrug, face turning a soft pink under his gaze. 

“I did, but didn’t I also tell you I can’t directly interfere with events in time? This so happens to be one of them.” she then points behind her with her thumb “I’ll just be in the background. I’ll make sure you guys don’t die under my watch; I promise.” 

“What?!” 

“You guys are going to have so much fun! Family bonding, yaddy yaddy yah! The whole shebang. I can’t just obliterate him out of existence, that’d be cheating.” she takes her arm back and goes to walk off again but this time Probabilator causes her to freeze. 

“Obliterate? Hah! With that mediocre display of magic? I have a hard time believing that!” Stan watched how her face twitched and how she fought down what he believes was anger and irritation. 

“Mediocre...? Me? My magic is mediocre? Me!” she startled them when she suddenly grabbed Stan and shook him while glaring at him, and while it wasn’t directed at him it still scared him to see the angry side of Alvah “If you think you can get away with calling me mediocre, you’ve got another thing com—no, no.” she let Stan go and approached Probabilator with the intentions of strangling him but managed to rein herself in before she could lay hands on him “No, no, no. You can’t do anything, Alvah. Calm yourself. Be the bigger person and let it go. Yes, that is what you’re supposed to do.” she nods her head and starts walking away. 

“Is she oka--” Dipper cut himself off when she came rushing back in. 

“No, I’m not.” they were taken aback when she punched him square in the face that she probably broke his nose, he fell to the ground with a cry but he also threw his staff in the air, and she caught it and stared at the die at the end of it before turning her gaze down at Probabilator “Here’s a lesson on magic. Though it varies depending on which dimension you’re in, they all circulate around the same thing. Magic is recognized as the use of mana to create phenomena, outside the limits of normal science. The usage of magic has varying degrees, with only the skill, personal power-level, imagination/knowledge, and/or morality to define the borders of the magician's limits.” as she explained, they watched as she started drawing a magic circle in the air that glowed an ominous red “Magic is all about bringing something that didn’t exist into reality, and that is the beauty of magic.” after completing the magic circle she tapped on it and they watched as it glowed so bright before blasting a pillar of fire at their foes, burning them to a cinder. 

“Well...” Dipper spoke, she then started to laugh as she kicked at the box art of Probabilator. 

“Hah! How was that for mediocre, huh? Try using your mathology in the afterlife!” she leans to the side when she notices that she accidentally overdid it with the magic and destroyed the kitchen and left burn marks everywhere “... I’ll fix that.” now they’re outside the shack while Alvah was floating around and fixing it up after what happened during the portal's reactivation, she didn’t have time to fix it earlier but after the mess, she made she finally made time to do it. 

“Mabel, is Miss Alvah a witch?” Grenda asked as she watched Alvah float off the ground after taking a tree that had lodged itself into the roof and replanted it back into the ground, they all kind of forgot that Alvah being a supernatural, interdimensional demonic being was a secret. 

“Well, Grenda, actually--” 

“That’s so awesome! Do you think if I asked, she would teach me how to use magic as well? I wanna be a witch!” they hear a laugh and see that it is Alvah slowly descending from above but continuing to float as she holds the staff over her shoulder. 

“That would be quite difficult, little Grenda. In this dimension, you humans don’t particularly have mana or any other sort of energy that allows you to wield magic. But you do have science, which happens to be the more limited but modernized version of magic.” she chuckled softly when Grenda huffed, kicking at the grass while crossing her arms. 

“That’s not fair!” she pats her head. 

“Life’s not fair, kiddo. Perhaps you should go punch someone, it always brings a smile to my face.” 

“You’re right!” with that Grenda runs off to go punch the nearest person, she chuckled at the young girl before throwing her arms towards the newly fixed Mystery Shack. 

“And there you have it! Good as new!” they all hear a creek so they look up and see the iconic S from the Shack slowly slip off and fall to the ground, she let out a breath as she dropped her arms “I’m not even going to bother.” she looks down when she saw Dipper approach so she lowered herself to the ground and sat herself down on her knees. 

“Thanks for helping us, Alvah.” she smiled softly and gently patted his head “You’re not going to get in trouble, are you? You said that was an event that you weren’t supposed to interfere with.” this caused her to let out a huff. 

“I really wasn’t supposed to do what I just did. I was technically supposed to allow him to kidnap you and Ford, and take you guys into the forest while Mabel and Stan came to your rescue. It was to help your guy’s development and relationship; you guys are trapped within the game and they were going to play it to save you.” this caught them by surprise “Since I’ve already interfered, I don’t think I’ll get in trouble for telling you what was supposed to happen. It was my first offense; I’ll probably be let go with just a warning. So, if you guys see the time police, tell them you never saw me. I don’t want to deal with that stupid Time Baby.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, you mean to tell me that we actually played that nerd game? For real?” she nods. 

“Yes, you played that “nerd game” to save your brothers, and you actually had fun doing so, and won against his smarts with your dumb luck. If you remove the mathematical and hard-thinking concepts out of DDMD, you will greatly enjoy the game. You put aside your distaste for the game to save both Ford and Dipper, which helped with your guy's relationship, and you guys realize that your bit— I mean, bickering isn’t going to do you any good, blah, blah, blah.” she thanked Dipper when he helped her up while she tossed the staff behind her “So, I’m sorry that I let my ego get the best of me and ruined your adventure. This is why I don’t really get in the way of these things, because it takes the fun and development you guys were supposed to have, out of it.” she hummed softly when Mabel approached her, taking her hand and tugging her forward. 

“And we greatly appreciate your help, Alvah. Is what why you’ve been staying out of things as of lately?” she nodded her head. 

“Uh-huh. You should spend as much time with each other as you possibly can because you don’t know when it’s going to be your last.” Mabel pouted at that, Alvah didn’t realize where the little girl was leading her until it was too late, because the next thing she knew was Mabel grabbing Stan and pulling the two of them together and they fell into each other. 

“Then will you watch the season finale of Duck-tective with us? It wouldn’t be the same without you, and since you played with Dipper and Grunkle Ford, then you’ve just gotta watch it with us!” she swallowed thickly as she slowly looked up at Stan, her face slowly losing its composure with how close they were as she started sputtering out any sort of excuse to decline “Come on, pretty please~ won’t you do it for me?” looking back down at her she saw her infamous puppy dog eyes with her trembling lips, she let out a sigh. 

“Alright, fine.” both she and Stan take a knee when they were yanked down so Mabel could hug them both, they plant a hand onto the ground to stabilize themselves while wrapping another arm around the young girl. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” she hugged them a little longer before letting them go and jogging over to Dipper to urge him to join them, Ford was planning on declining the invitation but looked over towards his brother and demon and saw the way the two of them acted like awkward teenagers. It was honestly quite amusing, two people who are known for being outspoken and confident were reduced to nothing but silence, and from what he learned through her memories the two of them were known for flirting with each other and couldn’t keep their hands off each other. She wrapped an arm around herself while her free hand rubbed her face, Stan himself hand one of his hands caressing the back of his neck while the other planted itself on his hip. 

“So...” they startle each other when they spoke at the same time while turning to look at each other, they immediately turn away when their faces were inches apart, she starts playing with her hair as she took a breath while Stan took his hat off “How have you been?” she perked up when he spoke to her, looking up at him, he was dusting his hat off before placing it back on top of his head. 

“Well. Could I assume the same for yourself?” he gave a shrug. 

“Eh, I’ve been better.” she nodded softly, and her mind went back to the conversation she, Ford, and Mabel had in the lab and that feeling of guilt started pooling up in her stomach again, she’s grabbed a fistful of the skirt of her dress and was playing with the bundle rather nervously. 

“Stanley, I... I’m--” he looks down at her, curious as to what she had to say, she looks up at him and he saw this look in her eyes when they locked eyes, she looked like she was going to say something before her body slumped and she instead reached up to fix his fez that was slipping from his head “I’m happy you are faring well.” her hand slips down to his face where it briefly rests upon his cheek before she pulls it away, she holds her hand close to her chest as she walks towards the shack to follow Ford inside where she misses Stan reaching up to place his own hand on the cheek she last touched. 

“Alvah.” upon joining them in watching Duck-tective, she sat on the ground beside Grenda while Stan, Dipper, and Mabel all squeezed onto the small sofa. She found the plot to be a little amusing, that the season finale revealed how the duck protagonist had a secret twin brother, which almost reminded her of someone. She felt a little nudge so she looked up and saw Mabel wiggling her eyebrows at her, she rolled her own eyes and shook her head before looking back at the TV. 

season 2, episode 14. the stanchurian candidate 

alvah is, of course, with stanford when dipper comes down to complain about stan stubbornly refusing to listen to him and mabel about running for mayor. 

while he ranted on and on about the fact, ford looks at alvah to see whether or not his brother actually wins the election. 

she gave a shrug while making a “sort of” gesture. 

she watched in amusement when ford pulled out a necktie that had the capabilities to control the wearer. 

“use it responsibly” he said, like hell they would. 

when it was the day of the election, ford couldn’t seem to find alvah until he looked upstairs and found her watching the election. 

he saw the way she was giggling softly to herself as she watched stan, a soft hue dusted across her cheeks. 

not in love, she says. 

ford ridicules her but he was swiftly punched in the face. 

season 2, episode 15. the last mabelcorn 

Alvah wasn't allowed to join Mabel on her quest for the unicorns because Ford said that "a being as rotten as her would scare them off", or whatever that means. She thinks he's just a sucker that believed that whole pure of heart sham all those years ago, she already knew that was a farce from long ago but thought it was too funny to reveal. She could easily get past those stupid unicorns and either a. take their hair by force or b. compliment their hair and ask for tips, that usually works. Ford told her that he wanted to spend some time alone with Dipper, having already revealed what they were doing in his lab all those nights ago, and Dipper practically pleaded with her to allow him to spend time with his idol. 

So here she was, sitting outside the shack with nothing to do. She watched aimlessly as the little critters that roamed the forest would peek out and approach her curiously before wandering back into the forest where she would reward their curiosity with little peanuts left out by Soos, she had a walnut in her hand so she swiftly crushed it within her palm before outstretching her hand to a squirrel that padded up to her. She watched as it sniffed her hand curiously before eating right out of her palm, it would be so easy to close her hand around its neck and tighten her hold around it. She could do it slowly and watch it struggle within her grasp, clawing at her hand to escape despite knowing its attempts would be futile. Or perhaps she could just crush it like she did with that walnut, how she would feel its neck snap in an instant; quick and painless. She let out an oh when it suddenly scampered away, she flicked the reminisce of the walnut onto the grass and relaxed back on the steps. 

"... I know you're there, Stanley." she hummed softly when she heard a crash from behind her, she waited a couple seconds before the door opened, and out came Stan dusting himself off while clearing his throat "Come to have a chat with me, Stan?" she pats the free space beside her and waits to see whether or not he'd take her up on the offer, he grumbles to himself but plops himself beside her. 

"Why aren't you with brainiac one and two or Mabel? You're usually hanging off his shoulder or keeping Mabel out of trouble." she merely shrugged her shoulders as she plucked another peanut from the bowl and tossed it toward another squirrel. 

"Fordsy wanted to spend some time with Dipper alone to devise a plan against Bill, and Mabel will be just fine. And you didn't hear this from me, but she's gonna punch a unicorn in the nose. It's rather glorious." she giggles softly to herself at what the future has for Mabel, sure her love for unicorns vanishes because they're nothing but a sham, but it sure was a spectacle to witness. 

"What? She punches a unicorn?" this got a laugh out of Stan "Almost tempted to follow them just to watch."  

"She might need comfort when she returns. Because of their little "purest of heart" scheme, they make her a little insecure about how good of a person she is. She might need some reassurance when she gets back, but those other girls keep her from falling too deep." they sit in silence and Stan watches her closely, he stares at her face specifically. Ever since it was revealed that she wasn't all that she seemed to be, whether she was a man or not, she wore a rather cocky grin on her face and carried a haughty attitude, she was just unrecognizable to him. But right now, under the grace of the sun and a calming summer breeze, he was blessed with the Alvah he had grown rather attached to... like he'd ever admit that part out loud, god he hoped she couldn't read minds (she can, in fact, read minds). 

"You're staring." he jumped at her voice, fidgeting from where he sat when her eyes trailed away from the wilderness that surrounded them and onto him, he swallowed thickly and stared deep into those soft, rich green eyes of hers. He was the most socially aware between himself and Stanford and took pride in himself with how well he could read people, he thought he read Alvah well, but there was just something lacking within her eyes "What's on your mind?" 

"Pointdexter refers to you as a devil, so are you like Bill?" 

"By that, are you asking if he and I are the same species?" he gave a kind of gesture. 

"Do you have a shape form like he does?" this question causes her to burst out into a fit of laughter. 

"I'm not a Euclydian, Stan. Their species have been long wiped out like their dimension, no thanks to Bill." she paused when she saw the confused look on his face "They are, er, were a two dimensional species that were only shapes like squares and circles." 

"And triangles?" she nods. 

"Uh-huh. They were incapable of seeing the third dimension, but Bill, he was different. But due to that, he accidentally destroyed Euclydia. He'd say otherwise, but we beings know what happened that day." 

"So you're saying that you were there?" she shrugs. 

"More or less. You're technically not supposed to know this, not even Ford knows this, but I could care less. Bill tells an entirely different story, saying he did it for power, but he only says that because he doesn't want to confront the fact that he erased his species off the face of this universe. He refuses to see that it was his fault." 

"Whoa." she nods, he looks at the ground as he thinks of another question to ask "But you do have many forms, right? This and the one you use for Ford aren't the only ones, are they?" she shakes her head. 

"No, they aren't." Stan then watches as she changes shape into a variety of different people, or rather, species "I have contracts with many people for trillions of years and taken the form of different species. I don't really have a proper identity to call me own." she spoke in different voices and even languages as she changed from a monster with tentacles for a face and even a tall newt with a purple skin tone before finally changing back to Alvah. 

"That sounds sad." 

"It really isn't. The contracts were easy to fulfill and I didn't have to stay in a body for too long. This one, however, is the longest it has existed." she said as she raised her arms to look at her hands "Without me even realizing, it started developing..." he raised a brow as he looked at her hands then back up at her. 

"A consciousness?" she chuckled softly. 

"Feelings." he blinked at her words "Every body I made moved like a machine with simple instruction. Listen to the contractor, fulfill the contractor's wishes, and complete the contract. Simple." 

"But?" she finally looked away from her hands and stared at him, long and hard. 

"I would leave these bodies and return to my own so I wouldn't get... attached. But, I was stuck in this one for so long it-- or I, started to feel. That is impossible, I'm not supposed to feel anything." the longer he stared into her eyes the more he started to see something that once wasn't there "And yet here I am beginning to enjoy the company of a small human family to the point I would do anything to secure their safety; to the point that I don't want you... to hate me." his eyes widened at her words. 

"Alvah." she turns away and wraps her arms tightly around her torso 

"Stanley, I am... sorry, for how I've treated you these past couple of weeks. I'm sorry I've been distant, I'm sorry I've avoided you. It’s just... so hard for me to come to terms with these feelings that are so foreign to me. These feelings are something I can’t control, and no matter how hard I’ve been denying them... they just keep coming back.” he sees how her arms tightened as she spoke “I don’t know if it’s this body or my feelings. I’m supposed to know everything, I’ve seen countless possibilities, millions upon trillions of endings but not one... not one where I--” he blinks when she abruptly cuts herself off. 

“Where you what?” the suspense was killing him, he tilts his head to try and get a look at her face but instead he saw a faint hue on the tips of her ears when she spoke so softly it would’ve been lost to the wind. 

“Where I...” he couldn't quite catch what she said but he saw the way her body suddenly froze, as if the sudden realization of her feelings finally caught up with her. He was startled when she quickly shot up to her feet and turned around, speedwalking to get inside the shack and possibly hide from him “I-I—I need to go! It was swell talking with you again, Stanley! Talk to you later!” she tries to get away but Stan was fast enough to stand to his feet and catch her wrist before she could get too far. 

“No, no! You can’t just stop there! You can’t just leave me hanging there, Alvah!” each time he felt her try to get away he would tug her back, he knew that she was much stronger than him, he knew that she could throw him off but this was a rare moment of Alvah being vulnerable with him so he wasn’t going to lose her when he was so close “You don’t get to spill that all on me and expect me to just sit there! I still... I still care about you! I still think about what we had, about what we did and said to each other and I hoped it wasn’t something you did out of obligation. That what we had meant something to you, the real you! That you actually... care for me. That finally someone chose me, and that since you knew it was me from the very beginning, you actually wanted me.” she stopped fighting him but she didn’t turn to look at him, his grip on her tightened as his face hardened “Won’t you say something, Alvah?!” he tugs at her and forced her to turn around and there... there he saw a sight that will forever be engraved in the back of his mind. The color red had practically covered her entire face as she tried her best to shield it with her forearm but failed, she was looking everywhere but at him and she looked so flustered; so, embarrassed that she looked so adorable in his eyes that it made him forget that the person in front of him was the embodiment of chaos and evil.  

“I... I do care about you, Stanley. I care when I-I shouldn’t be able too.” she moves her arm so her hand could cover the lower half of her face as she looked away “I’ve seen those kids die—I've seen you die so many times. To the monsters that roamed the forest... or by your own hands, and it scares me so much. Is this how you humans feel when you care about something so much that you feel like you’re dying? I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I were to lose you...” his hand slowly reaches for her other wrist and pulls it down so he could look at her clearly, the one that caught her slid up her arm and rested on her cheek where she finally looked at him and he saw so many different emotions swirling in those beautiful eyes of hers. 

Fear, anguish, regret, confusion. 

“Humans are more... complex than machines. We feel things that can spiral out of control if left alone.” his thumb started stroking her cheek in a form of comfort and she melted at the affection, her eyes fluttering close as she leaned into his touch “If what you say is true, then running from it will make you hurt more.” her eyes opened again and he couldn’t tell if the glisten in her eyes were tears or something else. 

“You make my nonexistent heart beat. I... I...” he saw the way that word was stuck in her throat, how she struggled to say it as she hid her face in the palm of his hand. Instead, she blinked when she felt his other hand cup her cheek and slowly turn her towards him once more, the two of them stare at each other until he started leaning in. A weak gasp left her when he pressed his lips against her, unlike the other kisses they’ve shared, this one was so short and faint she’d compare it to a peck. He pulled away and she saw his cheeks were tinted the faintest shade of pink but her face turned even more red, however, it didn’t stop her from wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a much needed kiss. He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around her waist to pull her close and reciprocate the kiss, they’d pull away briefly to allow him to breath but they’d pull each other right back in for more. Her hands removed themselves from his neck to cradle his face within her hands while his own roamed her body, he manages to catch them when they fall back into the door behind her with his hand slamming against the door frame, when they break away, they rest their foreheads against each other with his hands caressing his face affectionately “Stanford’s gonna kill me.” Stan snorted softly at what she said. 

“Why do you say that?” they move from the door to take a seat on the yellow sofa, all the tension from earlier gone as she cuddled up to Stan’s side, his arm wrapped around her side to keep her close. 

“He has come to realize my infatuation with you and threatens me about getting close. Says he doesn’t want a repeat in history, but I’m insulted that he compares me to Bill and you to him. If I’m being honest, you are much smarter than your brother.” 

“Hah! You’re just saying that because you like me.” she shakes her head, lacing her fingers with his and giving his hand a squeeze. 

“No, I am being very honest. You are much smarter than people give you credit for, Stan. I have watched you ever since you stepped for in Gravity Falls and your actions leading up to your brother’s return have been remarkable. If anything, your brother has much to learn from you. Be proud of your actions.” she quirked a brow when she felt his grip on her hand tighten a little as his body trembled, looking up, she giggled quietly to herself when she saw him covering his eyes with his hand “Stan, are you crying?” he looked away from her. 

“No! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” she hummed and reached to grab at his wrist and pull it away from his face, she gave him a soft expression as she cupped his cheek and wiped away his tears. 

“I told you this before, Stan, you don’t have to hide your vulnerability from me, I’m not going to make fun of you.” with that she kissed his tears away and nuzzled her cheek against his, he laughed softly and returned the gesture to know that it was appreciated “I still don’t fully understand what these feelings are or how I should confront them, but I do know you are something dear to me, as well as those children, and Wendy, and Soos and even Stanford. I’ll do anything to keep you safe, but there are just some things I just can’t prevent from happening in order to do so.” he hummed softly at that. 

“So, there is more to come?” 

“More than you could think.” he let out a grunt when she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face within the crook of his neck, hugging him tightly “So when that day comes, please know that I am so sorry that I had to let it happen.” he opens his mouth to reassure her that he’d forgive her, that it couldn’t possibly be as bad as she’s making it out to be, but seeing how she tightened her grip on him made him think otherwise. 

“Whatever you say, toots.” they decide to go back into the shack in fear that Mabel and her friends would reappear and catch them doing something they definitely didn’t want them to see. Alvah hadn’t realized just how much she missed spending her time with Stan, whether it doing something productive or just simply lazing around doing absolutely nothing but basking in each other’s company. She found herself craving more of Stan then she ever realized, she wanted him to smile at her more, she wanted to be the reason of his laughter, she wanted to be the center of his universe, but she knew deep down that she could never replace the love he had for his family. So, even if she had to be fed breadcrumbs in order to stay in his mind, she wouldn’t mind. 

“Did somebody say unicorn hair?!” both herself and Stan jump at the sound of Mabel’s voice, has it been that long already? She hadn’t even realized how long she and Stan spent together to the point that Mabel had returned from retrieving the unicorn hair, she guessed Dipper now knows that the muse she was talking about long ago was now in fact Bill Cipher and that she and that triangular freak have got ongoing beef. They both leave the room they occupied and make their way to where everyone was huddled in, however, the moment Stan’s eyes caught the glistening shine of gold he was quick to leave her side. 

“MONEY!!” she sweat dropped when he grabbed an armful before breaking down the backdoor as he fled, she sighed but clapped her hands when she entered the room. 

“Well done, Mabel, I knew you could do it.” taking in their disheveled attire, she snickered softly when she saw the unicorn tears and blood that covered the girls followed by scratches and bruises “You did a good job, kiddo. I’m real proud of you.” she praised as she knelt down and gently ruffled her head, she pulled her hand away and saw the way her eyes glistened with tears. 

“Thanks, Alvah, I really needed that.” she winked. 

“Don’t worry about it. Those unicorns don’t know a thing about you, but I know for sure that you’re the greatest little girl there could ever be.” she soft gasp left her when Mabel threw herself into Alvah’s arms, her eyes widened a little at the action as she slowly lifted her arms to wrap around Mabel and embrace her. Her mind went back to what she said to Stan and she immediately felt the guilt pool in her stomach, but she ignored it to nuzzle her cheek against the side of Mabel’s head. 

when stan came back, he and alvah spent a few more quiet hours to catch up on lost time. 

she made sure that mabel was busy with her friends so the young girl wouldn’t catch them doing anything. 

it was when things were getting more intimate when she was suddenly ripped from his grasp and a crash followed close behind.

opening his eyes, he was met with a hole in the wall as well as a loud thud. 

that was due to the fact when dipper and ford put up the protective barrier to bill-proof the shack, ford made a few miscalculations and demon-proofed the house. 

so when the barrier went up she was repealed out of the shack, to which she was on the top floor and fell from a great height.  

dipper was immediately apologetic and ford chuckled when she glared at him to fix it, well, that was until stan popped his head out from where she was thrown out. 

the next hour is spent with her running away from blasts from his gun while stan, dipper and mabel try and stop him. 

season 2, episode 16. roadside attraction  

“You really don’t want me anywhere near your brother, huh?” Alvah, who was in his male form, cooed from where he was floating over Ford, who was currently trying to figure out a way to fix the rift after it was damaged by Dipper when he learned the truth about Ford and Bill and shot him with the memory gun, only for the blast to ricochet off his head. After learning that Alvah and Stan settled the awkward tension they had and were acting flirtatious again, seeing them acting all lovey dovey and not getting enough of each other. He would try to ignore it but knowing what they were doing in just a room across from him had him storming in, no matter what they could be doing, and ripping her away from Stan to confine her in the lab “So overprotective, Fordsy~” he giggles to himself and twirls and strand of his long black hair around his index finger. 

“I do not want to know what kind of tomfoolery you and my brother get up to.” he huffed, crossing his arms. 

“Like you and Bill?” he snickered when he saw Ford stiffen, dropping the pen he had in his hand as he slowly turned red. Whether it be from embarrassment or anger, or perhaps both, he’ll never know. He scoffed when Ford whipped his head over to where he was floating and glared at him with such vigor, if looks could kill, he’d be dead where he stood—er, well, floated “Hit a nerve, did I?” he hummed softly when Ford grabbed him by the ankle to yank him down, making sure they were face to face as when he spoke. 

“How dare you bring that up, Alvah. You know exactly what Bill did to me.”  

“Then you should know better than to compare me to Bill, Stanford.” he opens his mouth to protest but was shushed when Alvah shook him off “I can hear your thoughts without needing to read them, and to say I’m insulted would be an understatement. My adoration for Stanley is completely different from the obsession Bill had for you.” 

“I-It wasn’t an obsession!” 

“I stalked you two for over a year, and he would not shut up about it either. I will go through those journals just to find those receipts; I will do it. I will give you the time and date for each instance, don’t tempt me.” they stare at each other for an intense few minutes until Ford breaks away with a disgruntled sigh, he watches as he returned to where he was before in silence before speaking “... I’m not going to hurt him, if that’s what you’re thinking. I already know what he’s been through. From his upbringing, the ten years he spent alone on the road to the thirty years of bringing you back. I don’t plan on damaging him even further, intentionally, that is.” 

“Intentionally?” Ford waited for an answer but was met with silence, he turned back to look at Alvah to question him but paused when he saw the distraught look on his face “Al--” 

“Let's just say, there’s just something I can’t prevent from happening.” Ford wants to question him on what that means but knows that if it has something to do with the timeline then Alvah will not tell him, despite being an all knowing and powerful being, there seems to be some rules that even he cannot and will not break. He goes to return to work but saw the way Alvah perked up like an internal alarm went off in his head, he raised a brow curiously. 

“Now what?” Alvah lifted his hand up and the shadows beneath him rose out of the ground. 

“Your brother seems to be in need of assistance.” Ford furrowed his brows in concern and got off his seat, standing beside Alvah as the shadows acted as a way to see what was happening. Ford always wondered what Alvah saw whenever she was, as he called it, the Shadow Realm, when they conversed. The image was distorted and hazy but clear enough for them to see what was going on on the other side, and there they saw Stan encased in webbing in some sort of cave. 

“Wasn’t he going on a road trip with the kids?” he nods. 

“He is, but it seems he ran into an arachnimorph. Quite nasty, if I say. If he’s lucky, he didn’t run into a female one.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“They’re more aggressive than the male arachnimorphs. You know, like normal spiders.” the image then shows a tan skinned woman with tan marks over her eyes in the shape of her sunglasses and on her shoulders where straps were present. She had sandy-blonde hair and a brown birth mark on her left shoulder, and though her torso was that of a normal human woman, her lower half was that of a spider “Him and his dumb luck.” 

“Are you going to help him?” he shakes his head. 

“As much as I want to, it’s one of those moments where I can’t.” he nods his head. 

“I see.” he goes to make the image disappear until that woman started getting closer to Stan. 

“You tricked me!” he shouted at her “I’m eighty-percent certain you don’t really love me at all!” this comment caused Alvah to furrow his brows, though he already knew the plot of this adventure, he still was a little jealous that Stan and this spider-woman went out on a date. 

“Ha! Men will fall for anything. You’re so funny. Great story. I love a man with shoulder hair.” 

“You... you didn’t mean it about my shoulder hair?” Ford and Alvah to roll their eyes. 

“Tell me, Stan, before I transformed, who’d you think was in charge? You, with your cheesy lines and fake confidence? I’m the master pick-up artist here. Sorry, toots. This time, you’re getting used for your body, which, to my species, is food. Allow me to slip into something more horrifying.” with that, the arachnimorph pulled its mouth open like that of a body suit and revealed its true form “I wonder what beverage pairs well with a vintage seventy-something-year-old man."  he grits his teeth as he glared at her from where he was hanging. 

“Why I oughta, when my partner gets here, you’ll be sorry!” this caused the arachnimorph to let out a laugh as she got close to him once more. 

“If you already had a partner, why’d you flirt with little ol’ me? Wouldn’t that break their heart if they learned of your infidelity?” he just let out a laugh. 

“Not really. I used my better lines on her and I’ve practically got her wrapped around me finger.” Ford looked up at Alvah and saw the irritated look on his face followed by the soft blush tinting his cheeks, he rolled his eyes knowing that what Stan had said wasn’t too far off from the truth “Besides, unlike her, I didn’t really like you all that much. Just trying to show off to my nephew how professionals work.” she let out a laugh at what he said. 

“Hah! Thanks to you, that boy will probably do more harm than good with your advice. It’d probably be better if he didn’t listen to you, because in the end, look where you ended up.” 

“Sure, but my partner surely won’t leave me hanging and come to my rescue!” the way he emphasized on the surely was meant for him to appear right that moment to save him, Darlene looked around for the appearance of such a partner but no one came “Come on, Alvah! I know you’re watching!” Darlene laughs once more as she got close to his face, he winced and leaned as far away as he possibly could while being confined to the webbing. 

“Sorry, sweetheart, but it looks like you’re all alo—ah!” Stan was startled when a fist appeared from beside his head and punched Darlene in the face, knocking her a few feet away from him, though he gradually calmed down when said fist uncurled and a hand glided across his jaw and caressed his cheek. 

“Hello, beloved. Can’t go a day without causing trouble, huh?” Stan smiled at the sight of Alvah appearing from out of his shadow, her arm around wrapped around his shoulder as she pulled herself close to him so she could rub her cheek against his “I, for one, like your shoulder hair.” he giggled bashfully to himself as he nuzzled his cheek into hers. 

“Aw~ I knew you would.” before she could say anything else she let out a grunt when she was shoved away from him by another figure, Stan was surprised to see Ford appear as well by grabbing Alvah by her face and pushing her away while pointing his gun towards the arachnimorph. 

“That’s enough of that.” she glared at him but scoffed as they both step out of the shadow “This isn’t a good idea, Alvah.” she shrugged as she stood in front of the twins to ensure she was the first target that Darlene woman would go for. 

“As long as I’m not the one to take her down, we should be fine. Now hurry up and free your brother, I’ll keep her back until the kids get here.” 

“Mister Pines!” she chuckled at the sound of Grenda’s voice echoing through the cave. 

“Speak of the devil.” the children came rushing in to save Stan but were greatly surprised at the sight of Alvah and Ford already in the process of saving him “Children, take your uncles and get out of here. I’ll hold her back while you get away.” 

“Miss Alvah! How are you here?” 

“Magic~” she quickly turned her attention back towards Darlene when she came charging at her, she caught the six-legged creature by her hands and dug the soles of her feet into the ground to keep her from pushing her back. She grimaced when the pincers on her face chittered as she leaned close, Alvah winced when she heard the sound of subtle cracking so she glanced over at her arms and saw tiny cracks forming around her elbows “Yeesh, have you ever thought of eating a couple breath mints? You smell as bad as that guy back there.” she said while motioning to Ford with her head. 

“Hey!” Stan snickered. 

“She’s got a point, Sixer.” she leans away again when Darlene let out a chuckle. 

“So, you must be the partner, huh? Did you know that your Stan over there whispered sweet nothings into my ear? He thinks he’s such a smooth talker with his cheap flattery and cheesy one liners.” Alvah rolled her eyes. 

“Well, they worked on me.” she looked away when Darlene gave her an incredulous look. 

“Wait, seriously?” she shrugged her shoulders. 

“What? I’m a sucker for flattery.” she let out a yelp of sorts when she was lifted off the ground then slammed back down into the ground, it didn’t hurt, but she grimaced when she heard more parts of her body start to crack “Hey, hey, now. Let’s be gentle, I’m a fragile little thing.” 

“You also look like a sweet little thing, I wonder what you taste like.” 

“Well, you’ve got to ask Stan if you want to answer to that question.” she winked but let out another grunt when she felt this overweight arachnid push her deeper into the dirty cave floor, she was getting dirt and cobwebs in her clothes and hair, what a pain “I beg, please get your ugly face away from mine. I don’t appreciate it.” Darlene laughs again as leans in close, her pincers wiggling inches away from Alvah’s face. 

“I won’t let any of you get away. You’ll make a perfect addition to my collection.” Alvah scoffed. 

“And I won’t let that happen.” the moment she heard them finally free Stan she hiked her legs up and kicked the overgrown spider off of her, she springs back up to her feet then held up her hand when she noticed them start to approach to help her “No, get out of here! I can’t handle her.” 

“But--” 

“I said go!” though reluctant, the group turn tail and ran out of the cave, leaving Alvah and Darlene alone together “If this were any other situation, I would finish you in an instance, but this ain’t. I’m just gonna give you a hard time.” she winks at the arachnimorph and uses two fingers to gesture for her to come. 

“I'll make you regret not running with the rest of them.” with the others, they were all high tailing it down the moment and towards the skyline, Candy looked back towards the cave entrance that got smaller and smaller as they ran further down the moment. 

“Was it right for us to leave Miss Alvah the way we did? I can’t help but worry for her.” Ford shook his head as he ushered the children to run ahead of him and his brother, occasionally looking back towards the cave in case the arachnimorph did manage to get past Alvah. 

“Oh, no. I believe she would be very cross with us if we didn’t leave. She can handle her own, I promise you that.” 

“Yeah, but you should have seen here when we had to fight against zombies. She looked hot as hell.” Dipper covers his ears at the words that were used, and though Mabel couldn’t help but agree, she did awe a little. 

“Ew.” 

“I don’t need to know that, Stanley.” 

“Zombies?” Candy and Grenda question, though neither got an answer when the sound of shouting came from behind them followed by loud crashes, they didn’t have time to turn around when flying over them was Darlene and Alvah tumbling down the mountain. Alvah was shouting as she punched Darlene in the face each time they were in the air and Darlene would retaliate when she was on top of her, Alvah would sometimes be able to catch her fist and punch her right back across the face but other times she would have to take the hit. Alvah couldn’t really feel pain each time a strike connected but she could feel her body crack more and more against the super strength the arachnimorph species possessed. They both crashed into a tree with Alvah landing on top of her, she continues to land blows on her but Darlene used her legs to kick her off her. She manages to catch herself and rushes towards Darlene and when her fist connects to her face, this time, her left hand all the way up to her forearm completely shatters. 

“Well.” 

“Alvah!” she looks back at the group and saw them stop when they notice her missing limb, she looks back down at her shattered hand then quickly looks back at them and waves them off. 

“I’m fine! Just hurry onto the sky tram! I’ll catch up!” Ford was quick to heed her demand and ushers them all into the tram, having to force Stan on before he could rush off to help her.  

“Hah! So, you’re not a human! Should have figured that one out, Stan seems to have a type.” Alvah shrugged then twirled a strand of her blonde hair. 

“Yeah, seems to me he’s into blondes. At least I was right on that mark, hmm?” Darlene laughs. 

“Well, since you’re down a limb, you won’t be that much of a threat!” with that she was quick to run off and chase after the fleeing group, Alvah scoffed and looks back down at the hole her shattered arm left. 

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Ford looks back and saw Darlene was leaping from tram to tram and gaining on them fast, no thanks to the stupid tram going at the speed of 0.1 miles per hour, however he perked up at the sight of Alvah not too far behind and instead of fixing her arm like she did when he blasted a hole in her face, the same black tar oozed out from the hole the damage did and became her new arm that grew larger with claws instead of hands. He also noticed that she ripped off her other arm so she could have two, so he saw her running along the cable while also using her new arms to swing herself towards them. When Darlene finally caught up to them and started encasing them in her webbing, Alvah swung herself up and kicked Darlene off and onto a different tram that was ahead of them “Is that all you got, freak?!” 

“Are you alright, Alvah?” she leaned back to see Ford peaking his head out of a window “You took quite the damage fighting that arachnimorph.” 

“That’s because this body isn’t meant for fighting, it’s only meant to look good. Besides, this vessel doesn’t seem to be able to contain the updated version of our contract.” she should have known when Ford allowed her more access to her power her body would become more brittle with how old it is “But I'm fine, nonetheless.” a soft gasp left her when a couple pieces of her face chipped off and fell, more black ooze leaking out of her face.  

“What was that, Alvah?”  

“I-It’s nothing!” Darlene lunges for Alvah once more but she swung herself around the cable holding up their tram and kicked Darlene back once more before lowering herself down to get a look at the group through the glass window “Candy!” the little girl jumped at the sound of Alvah’s voice, looking at the older woman, she gasped at the sight of her disheveled state. 

“M-Miss Alvah? Are you alright?” she waves her free hand, her claws digging into the roof of the tram to keep her from falling. 

“Don't worry about me, sweetheart. You’ve got this though, right?” Candy blinked at Alvah’s words, taken aback that she knew that Candy had a plan to deal with Darlene if she hadn’t showed up, so she smiles and nods her head while giving her a thumbs up. 

“Affirmative.” Alvah returns the gesture before hoisting herself back up, one of her arms wraps around the attachment that connects the carriage to the cables above them while the other is pressed against the roof just as Darlene jumps back. 

“Don’t think you can get rid of me that easily.” this earned her a chuckle “What’s so funny?” 

“Well, you don’t seem to realize you’ve walked into my web.” this caused Darlene to look down and noticed how the hand that was pressed against the roof allowed the black ooze to cover the surface and the moment her legs touched it they covered her legs completely to restrict her from moving “Hope you ain’t afraid of water!” she lets out a maniacal laugh when Candy pulled the emergency lever and the latch that connected the carriage to the cable above them released and they fell, they fell directly into the geyser “old reliable” that went off and shot them right back up into the air. They were sent flying down the mountain with Darlene taking the brunt force of crashing into everything while Alvah was running on top of the carriage as it continued to move, she made sure to release Darlene when they made it down and broke through the kiosk at the bottom of the mountain, right underneath the boot of the old statue that came down and crushed her. 

“My only weakness, a giant boot!” she cried out as she struggled to get out from underneath said boot “A giant newspaper or a giant cup would also have been pretty bad.” Stan and Ford managed to break down the carriage door where all occupants came tumbling out after rolling down the mountain. 

“Kid, that was ingenious! How’d you know it would work?” Stan raised as he pulled Candy into a side hug. 

“Useless travel pamphlets.” 

“Stanley.” they all flinch and look back towards Darlene, who transformed back into her human form “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You’ll let me out, right?” she spoke while twirling a strand of her hair, batting her eyes to lure him in. 

“What? After all that? Seriously, do I look like an amnesiac?” he shouts as he approached her weakened form. 

“Haha, you’re so funny. Have you ever considered becoming a comedian?” before Stan could answer her, he was pulled back by Ford just as Alvah stood over her with the carriage held above her head. 

“Stan’s already got a supernatural being in his life and that isn’t you, sweetheart.” Alvah ignored her cries and dropped it on top of her, she makes sure her legs stopped twitching and goes to turn around until she caught her reflection in the glass “Well, that was irritating, she broke my face.” she murmured as she brought her hand up to caress her cheek that was missing a couple pieces. 

“Are you alright, Alvah?” she moved her eyes and saw Ford approaching her, she huffed and turned around. 

“I already said I was fine. And again, this body was not meant for fighting, only to look good.” she let out a grunt when he grabbed her by the face, pulling her close so he could examine the damage “And you say I’ve got issues with invading personal space.” she squeaked when he tightened his grip on her face, squeezing her cheeks and yanking her closer to glare into her eyes. 

“At least I don’t do it in every waking moment.” she just shrugged her shoulders, he threw her head back before grabbing at what was left of her arms to look at the ooze that replaced what was missing “Is this your blood?”  

“Close, it’s my “flesh”, more or less.” 

“Not that smoke?” 

“The smokey version of me you see is the power I simply use to invade your head, you know, like that sand man? This goop would be the more accurate term to what my body is made up of, dead flesh.” she pulled a face when he pulled out a vial and scooped some of it up, he dangles it in front of his face and shakes the glass bottle “Really?”  

“The more I learn about you, the better.” she rolled her eyes then paused when she heard someone clear their throat, peering past Ford, she saw that it was Stan sheepishly kicking his feet while rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Oh Stanley, are you okay?” she cooed softly while reaching for him only to recoil back when she remembered the state she was in, but she was taken aback when he reached forward and grabbed her clawed hand “I thought you wouldn’t want to touch these rather grotesque hands of mine.” he laughed. 

“I got acid spit in my face, your arms are the least of my worries.” she giggled softly and used her other hand to covered her face. 

“You sap.” Stan opens his mouth to add something else but felt something rest on his shoulder, he turned his head to see what exactly it was only to let out a startled shout at the sight of a severed hand laying on his shoulder. The others watch in shock when Stan let out a scream and threw the arm in the air but stopped when Alvah burst out into a fit of laughter, she raised her hand and caught the arm then waved it cheekily at them “Thanks for the “hand”. Haha, get it?” she continued to laugh as she let the ooze slither back into the hole it came out of then connected the severed arm in its place, she rolled her arm a couple times then grinned when the cracks fused together smoothly. 

“Fascinating, but wasn’t that the arm that shattered?” 

“It was, but as long as I can find the pieces, I can put myself back together. Like so.” Dipper shrieked when he saw another arm drag itself over to where Alvah was, she picks the arm up abd repeated the same process she did with the first arm “Ta dah, good as new.” she let out an oh when Mabel tugged on the end of her skirt, she kneels down and tilts her head in mild curiosity then blinked when Mabel placed a rainbow band aid over crack and hole on her face. 

“There, now you’re as good as new.” she caressed her cheek and smiled softly. 

“Thank you, Mabel.” she let out a yelp when she was pulled back by Ford, she huffed at the action. 

“Let us return, Alvah.” she rolled her eyes and stood to her feet, snapping her fingers to rid of all the cobwebs and grime that got on her after that distasteful squabble. He raised a brow as he watched her approach him and reach for his hand, she laces her fingers with his as best as she could and pulls him close until they were practically cheek to cheek “What are you--” she ignored him to look back at the group. 

“See you back at the Mystery Shack.” with that she fell backwards and pulled Ford with her, he wasn’t prepared for the sensation that was them falling into their shadows and it felt like they were submerged briefly in a body of water before falling upright back in his lab. She chuckled softly when she felt his grip on her hand tighten significantly but when he came to realize they had returned he immediately let go, he looks back at her and saw Alvah changed back into his male appearance and rubbed his cheek that was bandaged. 

“How long will it take you to repair your face?”  

“It shouldn’t take too long since it’s small.” he hummed softly when he realized Ford was staring at him rather intently “What? Something else on my face?”  

“... you really have changed, Alvah.” his face twitched at Ford’s statement “You never stepped in whenever someone was in trouble, you always watched as if it were the most boring thing you ever had to do. You’ve stated you are a neutral being that’s job was only to spectate and observe, nothing more than that.” his fingers picks at the small band aid on his check while averting his gaze from Ford’s. 

“Why? You prefer if I abandon your family’s safety instead?” 

“No, I’m more curious as to why you would risk yourself getting into trouble to step in when you know you could face dire consequences.” Alvah continues to pick at the band aid as he thought back to his time spending every waking moment with the Pines Family and he couldn’t help but smile rather bitterly. 

“I, too, am very curious.” he then chuckles “I’ve got your brother to blame for half of it, though.” Ford scoffed. 

“I’ll say.” he rolled his eyes. 

[mookoo-writes]

~Dice and Secrets~ (Ford x Reader)

Authors Note: I just played Swooning Over Stan’s and-

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Pairing(s): Stanford Pines x Reader

Warning(s): Gender Neutral Reader, Cursing probably, nerds crushing on each other, post Weirdmageddon

Anyway, please enjoy~

“Roll for initiative!”

The sound of groans along with multiple rolling dice echoed through the hall. It was 1 in the morning and the shake was silent besides the occasional dice hitting the table. 

Why were you up this late? That’s simple. You were continuing a Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons campaign along with avoiding being caught playing such a game. Why you kept it a secret from everyone, you couldn’t say. This was just one of your guilty pleasures along with going to Renaissance Faires and dressing up. 

You had picked this time to avoid the risk of someone busting down the door and seeing the pile of multicolored dice scattered across your desk. Your friends didn’t have a problem with it since they live in a different time zone where your a couple hours ahead of them, but that doesn’t mean they didn’t question you with your suggested meet up time. They had eventually got the reason out of you, which resulted in the topic of Ford. You hadn’t talked about your feelings for him to anyone until that moment, so you may or may not have gushed for a few minutes like a lovesick high schooler. 

“Damn it Manny, why did you kick that rock.” Your friend scolded while multiple pieces of paper were being shuffled around. “I didn’t know there was an orc camp behind the bushes!” Your other friend groaned with a sigh. “At least we just healed. Oh, and I rolled a 16.” You added to the conversation, juggling the 20 sided die between your fingers. 

The DM looked up at his papers and rolled his dice a couple times. “Okay first in the order is one of the orcs. He is going to attack your player Y/n since they are standing the closest. I’m going to need you to make a saving throw.” You groan and mentally cursed your friend. 

At that moment a certain someone wandered out of his lad and up the stairs to the hallway your room was located. The familiar sound of a die hitting a hard surface made his attention go towards your slightly cracked door. A mental battle ran through his head as to whether to take a peak or not. Ford was just going to ignore it until he heard your voice along with some unfamiliar ones. His curiosity got the best of him and stepped closer to your door. 

“That’s a 9 but with the modifiers that will be… 15.” Your mental math abilities were a bit slow considering it was so late at night. “Okay… you only suffer a mere scratch to the arm from the orcs double headed battleaxe.” You silently cheered to yourself while pumping your fists. Your friends laughed at your actions until one of them had spotted someone in your doorway. They were about to say something to you until they closely examined the man; Glasses, trench coat and a red turtleneck sweater underneath. So that was the man you were gushing about a few calls ago. They could have fun with this. That same friend made a group chat with everyone in the call except you to tell them what plan had unfolded in their head. Everyone read the message and looked at you with a large grin. 

“Y/n, you don’t have headphones or earbuds in do you?” One of them asked. “No, no I don’t. I couldn’t find them. Why do you ask?” You rose a brow at your friend before going back to juggling your dice. She merely gave you a sly smile before replying, “No reason.” You glanced at her before dismissing her question. 

“Y/n your rolls have been on point this session!” Another friend pitched in with an enthusiastic tone. “Thanks, I have to make sure I’m not on the brink of death unlike last time.” You chuckled to yourself at the memory of an intense battle that went on last session. You were about to ask about the battle that was currently going on until someone else cut you off.

“Oh! That reminds me, have you finished your Ren Faire costume yet Y/n?” Okay this is weird. Usually all of you are focused on defeating the opposite opponents, but even your DM is getting off track. “Um, No? I still need to add small touches to the staff but I don’t see how this is relevance to the ga-” You were cut off once again, them completely ignoring your question.

“You still have that extra ticket or have you asked him yet?”

It was at that moment Ford could feel the grins of your friends being directed to him with one of them giving a wink.

The question made you freeze in your seat, face becoming slightly red. Where is all of this coming from? “N-no and I don’t think I will. I don’t have the confidence in that, hah.” You gave a sad chuckle and rubbed the back of your neck in embarrassment. 

Fords face became flush when he connected the dots; the sudden stop in your campaign with a question completely irrelevant to what was happening along with the stairs and grins thrown his way. Were you really going to ask him or do your friends think he’s someone else? 

“I don’t think he would have time, anyway. He’s always in the basement working on various projects and I would hate to take up so much of his time.” Your tone sounded sad and a bit disappointed. You saw one of your friend’s frown at your words before speaking up. “Going by the things you have already told us, I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to go,” That friend glanced over at Ford. “but if he makes you upset in any way, you bet I’ll book a ticket to fly over and kick his ass.”

Ford nervously swallowed at your friend’s stern words. One of his fingers were hooked at the edge of his collar as his face deepened in red at the thought of you asked him out. Not only that, but going to a Ren Faire in costume and everything! Believe it or not, but he had always wanted to take a special someone to an event like this. It had always been one of his dreams to share the world of fantasy and magic with a romantic partner, but lost hope the older he got. 

Your friend looked back at you and said with a closed eye smile, “Oh yea, they also have cosplay stuff stored in the back of their closet along with a 6 foot foam sword they made! You can’t hide your nerd self forever Y/n!” 

“Who are you talking too…” You turn around in your chair and make direct eye contact with the one person you didn’t want to see. The die you were holding dripped to the flour with a thud as you stare at Ford with wide eyes. 

You quickly turn back around and muted your friends before they could say anything embarrassing (as if they didn’t already). “How… much did you hear?” You hid your face in your hands, trying to hide your beat red face. Ford fiddled with the collar of his sweater yet again, trying to find the right words. “I’ve heard enough.” He steps into the door, closing the door behind him. 

You take a deep breath, wondering if you just destroyed your friendship. “Please, just… forget that every happen.” Ford rose a brow. “Why would I do that? You haven’t even asked me yet.” 

You paused at his words. What? “What do you mean?” You uncovered your face with a confused look plastered on it. Ford walked over to where you had dropped your 20 sided die and picked it up. “Well, you haven’t asked me if I wanted to go or not.” He looked at you, a small smile along with a shade of red dusted his face. “You would want to go with me?” Your voice still sounding confused but with a hint of hope in your words. “Of course! That sounds like a lovely time!” Ford held out the dice for you to take while his other hand rubbed the back of his neck. “That is, if you’ll have me.” You took the die out of his hand, figures brushed together briefly before pulling away. A small smile rose to your lips as you held the 20 sided die in your palm.

“Yea, I’d like that.”

Bonus:

After Ford left your room, you unmuted your chat. “That was one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen!” Your one friend yeld. Your face turned beat red at her words. You had to turn down the volume until she was done gushing about how romantic that was. “H-how did you hear that? I thought I was on mute?” You questioned while hiding your face with your hands. The DM chuckled to himself. “You muted us, not yourself. We all heard and saw everything.”

You’re not going to hear the end of this. 

[mothermortician]

PLEASE write a fic of stan finally returning to new jersey to tell filbrick off for being a horrible dad

What a punchable Face

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/27347017 

Hope it’s what you were thinking with the prompt <3 

What a Punchable Face 

Getting his hands on a time travel tape was extremely hard. Ford was hesitant, but after Stan’s plan, he couldn’t help but let him have this one. He’ll go back and just grab Stan from going into the shop.

Ford and Stan sailed all the way to Glass Shard Beach, New Jersey just for Stan to get this one moment. Sure, the device is able to travel to different locations, but they needed to go anyway...without the fear of messing with the timeline. It was nice seeing the city..the beach… the swing set… brought back many happy memories...and even more painful ones.

His parents were long dead, but seeing the old building that used to be “Pines Pawns” was enough to give him the ambition to go through with it.

“Are you sure about this, Stanley?” Ford asked as they stood in the alley behind their childhood home.

Stan looked down at the device in his hands before he looked back up at his twin “come with me?”

“Are you certain? I thought this was something you wanted to do alone?” Ford asked. His brow was raised with confusion, but his eyes held understanding.

“C’mon”

Ford let out a sigh of defeat, though it wasn’t really a fight “alright”

They set the date on the device, the week after Stanley was kicked from the house.

“Well..here we go…” Stan said, before releasing the tape.

~~

The crisp spring air blew against their faces as they stood in the alley. It didn’t look much different from when they traveled to, but it felt different.

Walking out onto the sidewalk, they could see how different, yet familiar, their surroundings were. They were back in 1963...what a year.

They walked past the window of Pines Pawns at least three times before Stanley had the courage to walk in and face his father.

Stanley thought the fact that he was a professional con-man would help him in this, but even after all these years, it was difficult seeing him. He and Ford tried to act casual as they checked out the fake fancy watches.

“Anything I can interest you with, gentlemen?” he asked from behind the counter.

Both twins quietly chucked to themselves before Stan mumbled “GeNtlEmeN” sarcastically with a snicker. He tried to regain his composure to “Uh yeah, y’think I could check out this watch?” Stan asked, pointing to a watch under the glass. It was the only one he remembered from when he was growing up, he thought about taking it, but after getting kicked out, he never had the chance. He remembered his pa looking pretty smug after getting it from the customer. It was a pretty good watch, and he got it from them for five dollars. What a steal.

Now he’s selling it for fifty dollars. Ridiculous.

Their father silently hands it to him, letting him inspect it. What reason would he have to suspect that this elderly man would be the last person he’d want to have in his shop. Worse than those teenage kids. It was his own son. The son that in his present self, he kicked out a week ago.

“I’ll buy it for six dollars, howz that sound?”

A gasp of disbelief escapes their father before his face turns into a scowl. Stanley might have been intimidated by that look alone, but he was glad he asked Ford to come. “Is this some kind of joke?”

The corners of Stan’s lips pulled down as his brows rose, he turned to Ford “joke? IS it some kind of joke?” he asked, portraying confusion, but he turned back to his father “no, I don’t think I’m joking at all, given that you paid five dollars for this, six dollars is a deal, you get a buck”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” he asked, his voice fuming. His eyes were covered, but both Stan and Ford knew he was mad. All the years of never seeing his face, they knew exactly what expression he was making. Despite all that, they didn’t back down.

Stanford Filbrick Pines, has gone to the nightmare dimension and back, dealt with literal demons, so his father? Is hardly even a challenge. As a child, he was intimidated, and easily subdued by him. Easily made him feel less than… Well, now he knows his father was just a controlling and abusive jerk.

Stanley Romanoff Pines, his father sure ruined his childhood… belittled and abused him. Kicked him to the street. Yet, he’s dealt with mob bosses, police, government authorities, AND he defeated Bill Cipher.

“I think I’m talking to a piece of shit man who doesn’t know how to be a father” Stanley said, leaning forward into the face of his old man. ‘Younger man’ in comparison.

While Stanley was facing down his father, Ford noticed a small creak on the stairs and was met with brown eyes of his younger self. He waved a hand, then moved one index finger over his lips. The younger Stanford’s brows rose as he saw the six fingers on the man’s hand. He felt like he was in some weird episode of the Twilight Zone or some science fiction movie… seeing the man in front of him. Six fingers on his hand, and the man beside him looking identical to him. He felt like it was safe to assume that time travel existed…. And that he and Stanley makeup.

Stanley’s been gone a week...and it killed him.

“You come into my establishment, and insult me? Get out!” Filbrick yelled.

“Yeah...we’ll leave…” he said, looking at Ford and turning around “just one last thing…” he added, before quickly turning around, his fist at full speed toward his father’s face. The impact broke his glasses, the broken glass cutting a line into his cheek, causing a small line of blood to form. Small ‘dew like’ droplets of blood began to form, dripping down his cheek.

“Stanford! Call the police!” Filbrick yelled out out, his voice rough with rage.

Young Ford looked panicked, his eyes darting between the men in the pawnshop. On one hand, he should listen to his father...on the other hand, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged on his lips. He knew his father deserved it, and if he and Ford came all the way from the future to do this, he must really deserve it. How could he argue with the future?

Once Mr. Pines looked back to the men, they were already halfway out the door, flipping him off. Stanley with his middle finger, and Ford with his two middle fingers.

“Fuck you, old man!” Stanley yelled, before they both ran out the building.

Ford really thought this was something only Stanley needed. That he would have been fine if it was just Stanley going to yell at their dad...but he was very happy to do this with Stan. He was also happy to see the look on their father’s face. He'll have to draw it out in his journal later to look back to with his twin on the Stan o' War II.

The two of them ran back to the alleyway, before pulling back the tape measure and zipping back to their time.

Stanley was laughing, almost choking from his own laughter “Did you see his face, Sixer? Oh MAN! Wish I could have recorded that”

“That was quite a reaction,” Ford said, laughing alongside his brother.

"Thanks for coming along" Stan said, slapping a hand on Ford's shoulder.

"of course, couldn't just let you do it all alone" though that was his original plan, thinking back on it, he wouldn't have changed a thing "Together we're the kings of New Jersey, aren't we?"

"Hell yeah"

[anistarrose]

Some Sunny Day - Ch. 12: The Ancient Power (Gravity Falls - Same Coin Theory)

Summary: We’ve seen how Stan remembers. Now: how Bill forgets.

Warnings: none

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14947964/chapters/45565759

Previous / Next

The Beginning

(The Same Coin Theory is by @dubsdeedubs and @renmorris!)

***

It was when he first encountered the Axolotl — eons and eons ago, while giving the more obscure and least comprehensible corners of the multiverse a quick look-over as he often did when bored — that Bill Cipher first realized that there was someone who knew and saw more than he did.

It wasn’t a pleasant realization. He was the All-Seeing, All-Knowing Eye; omniscience was his brand. He was the ancient, elusive god of mysteries and answers — and, on good days, brief little glimpses into the future.

(Not that he often acted on those glimpses — they tended to be about things he either couldn’t change, or didn’t want to change — but dropping cryptic warnings into conversations with mortals was always fun, as well as a good way to remind them who was really the brains of the operation.)

But the Axolotl existed outside of time entirely. It had already seen what was yet to come to pass — it had seen it last night, and a century ago, and would see it fifteen million years down the line. It was seeing it now, and seeing it always: if Bill could occasionally switch the metaphorical channel of his sight from “present time” to “five hours in the future,” then the Axolotl was constantly watching every channel, every second and millisecond and nanosecond of existence and so on to an infinitesimal degree. It not only knew everything, but had always known everything and always would.

And Bill hated that.

“This only upsets you because you fear the unknown,” the Axolotl told him, its voice echoing like Bill’s own, but also more pleasant on the ears, more musical.

“Psssh, yeah! Right!” Bill scoffed. “Do I look like I have anything to be afraid of, Frills? I’m the incorporeal king of nightmares and my throne is built from intangible screams of mortal terror! Fear is — is breakfast for me! Serve me up all the fear in the world!”

The Axolotl tilted its head. “Deny it if you must,” it replied, “but your actions will tell another story.”

“Oh, so we’re playing the cryptic remarks card now? Well, I’ve got nothing left to gain from this conversation.” With that, Bill willed himself out of the time and space between time and space, leaving behind a triangle-shaped ripple in the fabric of the universe.

But in his haste, he failed to notice the Axolotl’s massive tail curling around five human figures, all of them shrouded in pink mist as they watched his exit intently.

***

It was during his second encounter with the Axolotl, somewhere in the realm of a million years later, when Bill Cipher was warned.

“One day,” it told him, “you’ll be so afraid of the inevitable unknown that you’ll beg me for help, and I will help you.”

“I’m not afraid,” Bill blurted out immediately, cringing as he realized how much he sounded like a naive little kid pleading his case to stay up late and be told spooky stories.

The Axolotl kept talking, as if it hadn’t heard him. “But it won’t be a free pass onto a new life of your choosing. It will be a catalyst for an unimaginable change, and the start of a long, hard path — but I know you will have it in you to succeed.”

“I don’t need you to believe in me like some proud, overinvested parent,” Bill shot back, making a show out of straightening his top hat and bow tie. “Do I look like a guy who has problems with self-confidence?”

The Axolotl just smiled at him, with its big, smug, frill-wreathed face.

“Invoke my name, Cipher, and time itself will contort to bring you back from the ashes.”

Once again, Bill willed himself back to the Nightmare Realm without noticing the five figures — not even the one that stood further forward than the others, the one that had first stared at Bill slack-jawed and dumbfounded, but now straightened his back with a confident, imposing sort of determination, and curled his fingers into fists.

***

Bill rifled through Ford’s memories — high school bullies, college all-nighters, a fiercely regretted discovery of a cave in the woods of Gravity Falls — as simply as one might flip through the pages of a book, scoffing at the man’s loneliness and need for validation. But Bill already knew all about that — it was what he’d preyed upon, how he’d gotten his portal built in the first place. No, tonight he was looking not for a general weakness, but for some specific memory, something he could purposely throw back in the six-fingered freak’s face later —

But now, he was struck with a wave of… familiarity?

A hand reaching to mess up a head of brown hair.

“Don’t listen to them, Sixer. I think you’re pretty cool!”

A knock on the leg of a bunk bed.

“Morning, smart guy!”

A reassuring hand on the shoulder.

“You heard it here first, Stanford Pines is gonna be known as the guy who changed the world!”

Switched outfits, a striped shirt in place of a brown jacket.

“Okay, Brainiac, today I’m gonna teach you how to lie…”

Bill withdrew from Ford’s memories with a jolt — not quite angrily, not quite sadly, but driven by something fierce and consuming, some feeling that he wasn’t used to and wanted to be rid of as fast as he could. Wrenching Ford’s body out of its slumber, he flipped through a journal with shaky hands and just so happened to notice a code he’d scrawled a few nights ago —

I ASK YOU WHY MUST TIME ONLY MOVE FORWARDS

WHY MUST CAUSE PRECEDE EFFECT

WHO VOTED ON THE LAWS OF PHYSICS

***

The third time he encountered the Axolotl, Bill Cipher was trying to save himself, but ended up killing himself in more ways than one.

Blue-white flames consumed walls from the ground up, and transformed exit doors into impassable infernos. Bill had practically forgotten what hot truly felt like, but he knew this was worse than anything he’d ever felt before — it was eating away at his very essence, suffocating his own flames and threatening to choke out everything that made him him.

Stanley’s mouth moved, but the voice felt like it was coming from inside Bill’s own mind, words spat through gritted teeth threatening to rip apart his consciousness.

“You’re a real wise guy, but you made one fatal mistake. You messed with my family!”

“You’re making a mistake, I’ll give you anything! Money! Fame! Riches! Infinite power, your own galaxy!!”

He was struck with a sudden vision — a static-corrupted and not quite real-time clip of a triangular statue resting in a forest, dark beneath the shadows of pine trees even as bright afternoon light spilled down from the blue summer sky above.

“PLEASE! HELP! WHAT’S HAPPENING TO ME?!”

In a panic, he fumbled after the last few sparks left in his draining pool of energy, trying to channel them into his form and grow big enough to smash right out of Stan’s strangely well-disguised mortal mindscape, but his body melted and struck the floor almost instantly, only growing more unstable and difficult to hold together by the second — and seconds were all he had left.

Invoke my name, Cipher.

“NRUTER YAM I TAHT REWOP TNEICNA EHT EKOVNI I!”

And time itself will contort to bring you back from the ashes.

“NRUB OT EMOC SAH EMIT YM L-T-O-L-O-X-A!”

Stan pulled back his fist, winding up for a punch, and time slowed to a crawl. Blue flames froze in place, and the frenzied roar of a collapsing mindscape faded to a drawn-out, agonized groan before at last giving way to silence.

Then the scene began to fade as Bill found himself paralyzed, helplessly watching pink mist seep into the room. The fires grew dim, all colors turning pastel and all clarity lost to a clouded blur, until all he could see were pink cumulus clouds drifting carelessly across a blue, star-speckled sky.

(He was thrust back to the independent demises of a million different civilizations across billions of years, but he hardly heard the screams as he found himself in a flat world, a gray world, a despised yet fiercely missed world where he struggled to leaf through an oversized book that spoke of Points and Lines and Spheres and colors…)

Two beady black eyes opened in front of him, and a familiar head emerged from the clouds with a satisfied smile on its face.

“I see you invoked my name,” the Axolotl said, a hint of smugness dripping from its melodic voice. “So you do fear what lies beyond death.”

“Ya got me, Frills!” Bill shouted, hoping that sheer volume would be enough to disguise how much he was shaking. “You really did! I panicked and I invoked you, so — so what’s the fuckin’ catch already?”

“Catch?” the Axolotl asked innocently, gills twitching.

“That shtick you gave me last time about a ‘hard path!’ I know how you work, Frills — you’re not gonna let me go without some lesson as punishment — so have at it already! Dump me into whatever new existence you’ve decided I deserve, and get it over with!”

The Axolotl frowned. “You misunderstand, Cipher. It’s not about what you deserve.”

“Then what the fuck is it supposed to be about?!” Bill could feel the fire rising up in the core of his essence once again, about to rupture him beyond any hope of repair, but he kept shouting. He couldn’t stop. “WHY DID I EVEN INVOKE —”

“It’s about where you’ve got the potential to change,” someone interrupted, and for a moment, Bill thought that the Axolotl’s voice had inexplicably grown low and gruff, abruptly developing a Jersey accent as it spoke with a quiet confidence —

But then a flicker of motion towards the Axolotl’s tail caught his attention, and finally, he noticed the five familiar figures — less bruised and battered than he’d last seen them, yet still impossible to mistake. Four of them stood in a straight line, Pine Tree and Shooting Star close together and flanked by Question Mark and Sixer, while in front of them…

In front of them was the Pines that Bill had always paid the least attention to — the one he’d never had a nickname for. With tousled gray hair and and a plain white shirt, Stan looked unassuming and out-of-place here at the fringes of the multiverse, but his narrowed eyes took in the scene exactly like they had seen it all before, bright golden sparks of recognition dancing within brown irises.

“It’s not about what you deserve because you don’t deserve anything, Bill,” he calmly explained. “You don’t deserve to live in the first place. But about six decades later, in your future…”

He took a deep breath, and recalled from Bill’s perspective that his family was currently smiling at him from behind his back, proud and encouraging as ever.

So Stan smiled too.

“I will.”

“No,” Bill stammered. “Are you — are you saying that you’re me? ‘Cause I’m nothing like you! There’s no way I’ll become you, I’ll —”

Stan snorted and extended a hand in Bill’s direction, palm facing up as blue flames danced across it. “Man, we’ve always both been good at lying to ourselves, haven’t we?”

For the first time in nearly a trillion years, Bill Cipher felt the physical sensation of a chill running through him.

What had he ever truly been if not a con man? If not a stubborn, scheming scam artist?

“But hey, you’re half-right!” Stan went on. “You’re becoming me and there’s nothing you can do about it —”

He made a fist, and the flames were instantly extinguished. “But I’m definitely nothing like you.”

“You — you — you can’t light your hands on fire and seriously believe that!” Bill sputtered. “If you really are me in the future, then you’re the one lying to yourself if you think you’re anything other than a ticking time bomb! You’re still gonna be Bill Cipher forever, buddy, and you show it whether you know it or not!”

Stan directed his gaze towards the clouds below, biting his lip. A ways behind him, Dipper started to step forwards, but Ford gently rested a hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

“It’s almost hilarious how bad you are at playing the hero! All you’re good at is lying and stealing — oh, and ruining and destroying things too, can’t forget that! You know, I never got why you were so obsessed with turning the portal back on to save someone who hated you so much — but all this time it was just a favor for your past self, wasn’t it? Kickstarting the apocalypse for an old pal! We want the same things, you and I — no matter how incompetent you are at actually getting them!”

Stan’s fists trembled at his sides, but he still didn’t look up.

“But don’t worry, ‘cause your pathetic existence is gonna come to an end real soon!” Bill cackled, rubbing his hands together with glee. “You don’t have to pretend to be these dumbasses’ family anymore — we’ve pulled off the perfect con, you and I! We’ve got a physical form all set up in your dimension and no one’s standing in our way — no quantum destabilizers, no memory guns, no zodiacs! You can rule the world again now — you WILL rule the world again, whether you think you want it or not!”

“That’s all?”

Bill’s delirious laughter cut off abruptly. “What?”

“That’s your whole argument,” Stan murmured, a hint of a smile beginning to develop on his face.

“You’ve got some good points about me ruining everything,” he went on slowly, “and I think I believed it, for a while — I think I believed it before I remembered, even. I never thought I was good for anything, and part of me never believed it whenever anyone told me I was a hero…”

His head snapped up, and Bill flinched when their eyes met.

“But I know something about myself that you don’t.”

“Wh-what?”

“I know that you offered me money, fame, riches, infinite power, my own galaxy, and I didn’t understand how anyone could choose that over their family. I still don’t — and talking to you now, seeing what an egotistical little shit I used to be and how much I’ve changed since — now, I’m sure that I’ll never understand again. I’m better than you, Bill, and I always will be.”

“But — but don’t you remember all the fun we had? We could have that again! Don’t you want —”

“I remember plenty,” Stan growled, “but torturing people isn’t fun. Killing people isn’t fun. Those things are going to keep me up at night for the rest of my life, and I don’t want either of them ever again.”

“No, no, no! You’re wrong! I’ll always —” The heat inside Bill was intensifying, making it harder to hold his form together, but he wasn’t going to let this happen, couldn’t let this happen, had to remind his future self who he was before he forgot everything —

His gaze landed on Ford, watching the argument with eyes that looked tinted red from recent tears.

“Sixer, you can’t possibly believe this! You’re just gonna trust him — trust me — and let us burn you again? You of all people musta let us stab your back more than enough times to get tired of it, right?!”

Stan hid it quickly, but he cringed a little at that line, and shot a nervous glance to Ford, who closed his eyes and took in a slow, deep breath.

“By choosing to be reborn, all you’ve done is ensure that you’ll die more definitively, more completely, than if you had simply been destroyed,” Ford stated. “You could have just been gone — but now, you’ve been changed. You’ve been replaced.”

“No! You can’t get rid of me that easy! I’ll —”

“Oh, yes,” Ford growled. “You will become the antithesis of everything you once were, to the extent that you will even erase your own legacy. You’ll be the one to reverse your own apocalypse, to protect the family you tormented…”

His voice cracked. “And you — you’ll be the one who teaches me to trust again, after all the time you spent isolating me and driving me to paranoia. I don’t trust you, Bill, but I trust my brother — because there is a world of difference between the two of you. You destroy senselessly, but he protects us. He’s helped heal the wounds that you’ve caused.”

“I’ll never really leave your side, Stanford! Is that what you want? No matter what you tell yourself, you know you’ll never be able to really let your guard down around your brother again —”

“The era in which I let you manipulate me into distrusting my friends and family has long since ended, Bill,” Ford shot back without flinching. “You left my side long ago.”

“You really think that I can change? Me? Bill Cipher?!”

“I do,” Ford answered. “It may be a stretch to call my brother mature, in any sense of the word, but he’s most certainly more mature than you. He has changed for the better — in a way that does not often tend to revert.”

“Yeah, you want to know why time is so meaningless?” Stan added. “It’s ‘cause I grew up more in sixty-two years than you did in a trillion. You’ve been around for too many eons to count, but you’re still just a selfish little brat who’s obsessed with playing puppet master.”

“NO!” Bill shrieked. “I won’t become you! I WON’T! I am Bill Cipher, and SO ARE YOU, YOU HEAR ME?! The person you call Stan is — is — is NONEXISTENT!”

“Oh, I hear your whiny little screams in the back of my head all the fucking time,” Stan spat. “Telling me I’m a shit person, telling me I don’t deserve my family, telling me everything I think of myself as being is a lie. Telling me I’m just going to turn into a demon again, and the one good thing I’ve done in my life is going to end up being less than worthless…”

Columns of blue flame erupted from his hands, and he stepped towards Bill, teeth bared. “But you’re an even bigger liar than I am.”

“You — no, we could have ANYTHING! Power without limitations, minions to obey our every order, revenge on anyone who’s ever wronged us! BUT YOU CHOOSE TO BE STANLEY? YOU CHOOSE TO BE MEANINGLESS?”

“I hate to break it to you, wise guy, but you’re already doomed.” Stan took another step closer. “You’re going to be meaningless soon. Everything you think of yourself as standing for is gonna fade away, and all you’re gonna be is just another one of my memories.”

“And memories,” Ford added, “will never take away my brother — not by their absence, and certainly not by their presence.”

Stan’s hands curled into fists, and the columns of fire wound themselves around his fingers, solidifying into shining golden knuckledusters engulfed in a crackling blue aura.

“Hey, Bill?” he asked, smiling innocently.

Bill let out a whimper.

“Will you please say hello, to the folks that I know? Tell them I won’t be long?”

Two scenes play out overlaid upon one another, blurring together into the same decisive, time-defying moment as the burning of Stan’s mindscape resumes from where it left off. Two versions of Stanley Pines swing at Bill — one standing unflinchingly before a backdrop of flames about to consume him, the other channeling a reawoken fire of his own into his resolute, superhuman punch, but both sharing an absolute confidence in what will happen next.

And what happens next for Bill Cipher, as their fists collide with him, is excruciating pain.

The blow from the mindscape is blistering hot with vengeance, the weight of a tremendous but unregretted sacrifice behind it. It’s the love and compassion of a selfless protector that fans the oxygen to these white-hot flames, that fuels Stan’s particular stubborn brand of heroism against which no demon can possibly stand.

This one’s for my family.

The blow from the time and space between time and space is metallic and colder and spiteful in an intimately personal way, as Bill watches his own flames punch a hole in his body — but these flames, this fist, they’re bolstered by a family’s returned love and kindness that brings Stan back from the ashes but doesn’t just stop there. The weight behind the punch is as much Ford and Mabel and Dipper and Soos as it is Stan; it’s their stubbornness and refusal to give up on the good they know they see in their hero, it’s the trust they place in him and foundations for a trust in oneself that they’ve planted for Stan to rebuild upon.

It is fueled by a fresh spark of something new, something defiant, burning deep within Stan’s chest — an ember glowing faintly at first, but holding the potential to become a roaring blaze of self-confidence, of self-acceptance, even self-love.

And this one’s for me.

The punches shatter Bill with ease, eclipsing his own power by countless orders of magnitude, and his fragments scatter, cast adrift in spacetime. Yet a long, pink and blue-finned tail sifts through the fabric of the universe, curling protectively around the shards of a consciousness as it collects them together once again and then carries them back to where it all began…

The sunny New Jersey day of June 15th, 1951, where an all-seeing eye closes, two human ones open, and Bill Cipher forgets.

***

The flames around Stan’s hands died down, and the Axolotl, who had spent most of the confrontation watching from a distance, drifted up to face him.

“Why were you doing in the fishtank all those years?” Stan blurted out.

“Now, there is a limit to how completely I can be somewhere,” the Axolotl told him, “a limit to how much of myself I can manifest in the spacetime that you all are capable of perceiving. But to answer your question, Stan… to the greatest extent that I could, I just wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t be too lonely for those thirty years.”

Stan rubbed his eyes. “You’re such a — a sentimental old salamander. You know that, Frills?”

“An eternally young salamander, actually,” the Axolotl corrected him teasingly, with a gleam in its eyes. “Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?”

“We had another question when we came here, but…” Stan wiped away a few tears, and took a deep breath. “But I know the answer now.”

“I thought so.” The Axolotl beamed. “I have a few messages for you all as well. First of all, Ford — Jheselbraum has asked me to say hello. She says that she’s proud of how you fared in the Mindscape… and that she’d like to visit your dimension sometime, which I think could be arranged.”

Ford blinked a few times in owlish confusion, but then a smile spread across his face. “Tell her… tell her I’m immensely grateful for her help, and that I’d love to see her again sometime — and I’m sure the kids would love to meet her, too.”

The Axolotl nodded. “And Stan, one last thing. You invoked me in the clearing as you were beginning to remember, and I heard you, but I did not reply. That was because there was nothing for me to do. You asked me to stop Cipher, but he had no need to be stopped — though you understand that now, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Stan answered, giving up on wiping away his tears as his voice grew choked-up. “Thanks, Axolotl. For everything.”

He turned around to face his family, and spread out his arms. “And thanks for not letting me go.”

The kids were the first to run towards him, and he lifted them up and hugged them tight. Soos quickly followed, wrapping his arms around all of them as he buried his head into Stan’s left shoulder while sobbing with joy.

Ford was the last to join the embrace, but may have hugged the tightest and most fiercely of all of them — not letting go even as the stars and clouds of the Axolotl’s dimension faded away, replaced with sunbeams and trees and a familiar old swingset.

“Thanks for staying with us, Stanley.”

***

pssst reread the beginning of chapter six and you might notice a few familiar lines, I’ve been plotting this scene for a while ;)

This writing experience has been a hell of a journey, and now it’s finally coming to a close! I’ll save my big mushy ramble for the end of next chapter, but I’m getting sentimental over it already. 

But although the end of this fic is nigh, that’s not the end of this specific continuity — I’ve got a few different ideas for sequels (as well as potentially prequels and deleted scenes!) to write once I finish with Some Sunny Day itself, so keep an eye on the series for those! Jheselbraum’s visit will probably be one such sequel, since it doesn’t quite fit into the final chapter I have planned but would feel like a waste not to expand upon.

[marypsue]

Death of the Author 2 / 3

I am, as ever, guilty of story bloat. My planned last chapter of this fic has had to be split into two. Hey, on the bright side: more fic!

I forgot to add a warning the first time around, but this chapter contains some prime examples of Gideon being his particular brand of awful towards Mabel. Tread carefully if that’ll affect you. Also, I owe all credit to @seiya234 for the golf cart.

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

I’m also on AO3 as MaryPSue!

...

"Look at us. When'd we get so old?"

Ford looked over, meeting her brother's eyes in the mirror. "You look like Dad."

"Eugh, don't say that," Stan said, with an exaggerated shudder. 

There was a moment of silence, peaceful, almost companionable. Ford was just beginning to wonder if this was the time to break it when Stan said, awkwardly, holding his own gaze in the mirror as he reached up to scratch the back of his neck; "So, you're a woman now."

"Actually -" It was probably the best she was going to get, Ford decided, biting back the words that gathered at the back of her throat. "Yes." There was nothing to be ashamed of, she knew, but her borrowed turtleneck still felt suddenly too large and filled with prickly heat.

Stan nodded, still not meeting Ford's eyes. "Gotta say, I wouldn'ta seen that one coming." 

"And just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing! Nothing, I just -" Stan raised both hands defensively, still not looking Ford in the eye. "Knew some girls like that, back when I was living rough. Hell, I woulda died outside a bar in New Orleans in '76 if it weren't for a couple queens in evening gloves and tiaras. Just...never woulda pegged you as the type. I still gotta wrap my head around it. How'd you end up figuring that one out, anyway? I woulda thought after seventeen years living with Dad -"

"You don't need to understand, Stanley." Maybe it was unnecessarily rude, but then, her brother never had been one for subtleties, and Ford just needed him to stop before he strayed too close to the truth and the bitter memories she'd rather try to forget. "You just need to accept that this is the way things are. The way I am." So that we can all move on to more important things, Ford's brain supplied, the memory of the dollop of starry spacetime slowly undulating in a glass containment device in the basement below them rising once again to the forefront of her thoughts.

The last thing Ford expected Stan to do was give a sheepish chuckle. "You know, that's almost exactly what Mabel said?"

"What? When -"

"Night the kids got here. I mean, the parents explained a bit when they asked me to take 'em, but Mabel was the one to sit me down and give me the crash course." Stan huffed out a laugh. “Lotta things changed since the seventies.”

Ford's mind whirled, playing back all the many, many changes to her home dimension that she'd been forced to process immediately upon arrival. "Mabel? But I thought Dipper said he -"

"Yeah, yeah, Dip's the one who's transgender or whatever they're calling it now, but..." Stan fixed Ford with a look that made her feel not unlike the first time she'd stood up in front of the grant committee. "That kid's not usually as outgoing as he was with you, you know."

"Me? Why me? He doesn't know me from a - a hole in the ground."

"That's where you're wrong, poindexter. That kid's been hero-worshipping that damn journal of yours all summer." Stan's stare softened, almost imperceptibly, before it turned into a glare. "You're his hero. And so help me, if you let him down, if you hurt those kids, I'll break your stupid glasses. And your nose with 'em."

“What? You can’t honestly think I would ever -”

Stan crossed his arms over his chest, staring in the general direction of the mirror instead of turning to face Ford. “I’m just sayin’, last time I tried to help you we nearly both got sucked into that portal of yours. Just stay away from those kids. I don’t want them in danger.”

With great effort of will – and, she thought, impressive restraint – Ford managed to bite back the selection of choice words that threatened to slip from her lips. “Fine,” she snapped, instead, turning her back on her brother. “Then you’ll ensure that they stay out of my way.”

It might have been pure spite that made her turn back when she heard the shuffle of Stanley starting to move. “And Stanley? When the summer ends, so does this Mystery Shack nonsense. You give me my house back, you give me my life back -”

“Thought you didn’t want it anymore,” Stan said, coldly, and there was something wrong with his voice. It was just slightly...off, as though Ford had tried to reconstruct his tone and cadence from –

...memory...

“Stanley?” Ford asked, but her brother only went on, as though his voice was playing from a pre-recorded script.

“You’re not Stanford Pines anymore. I’m Stanford Pines! I’ve been Stanford Pines the last thirty years! And I’ve done a better job of it than you ever did. What’d you accomplish, anyway? Causin’ the end of the world?”

“Stop it,” Ford said shortly, and Stan gave a sort of half-laugh, half-snort that had no humour in it.

“Stop what? Telling the truth? You don’t belong here anymore. There’s no place for you to fill. Stanley Pines is dead, Stanford Pines is right here. And he sure as hell never had a sister.”

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. This wasn’t – wasn’t how this conversation –

For the first time, Ford looked, not at her brother’s reflection in the glass, but at his face.

Yellow eyes glowed above a massive, wicked grin that looked much too much like the smile that Stanley wore as Mr. Mystery for comfort. Ford took a step back as the imposter turned to face her, still grinning, shoulders back, posture triumphant. Gloating.

“Bill,” Ford hissed, reaching into her coat for a weapon, only to come up empty-handed.

The imposter in front of her winked one slit-pupiled eye, pointing an index finger at her. “GOT IT IN ONE, KID! GOTTA SAY, YOU SURE DO TAKE A WHILE TO CATCH ON!”

“What are you doing here? This isn’t what -” Ford glanced around, a sudden uncertainty trailing chilly fingers up the back of her neck. “Isn’t how I remember it...”

“ISN’T IT, NOW?” Bill said, his voice dripping with mocking sympathy. “WOW, CAN’T IMAGINE WHY THAT MIGHT BE!”

“You. You did this, somehow you tampered with my memory -”

“OH, SIXER, I’M FLATTERED! BUT YOU’RE GIVING ME TOO MUCH CREDIT.” Bill waved one of Stanley’s hands dismissively, before snapping his fingers. The room around Ford suddenly burst into flame, a ring of yellow fire trapping her in close with Bill and the mirror. “NOPE, THAT PESKY BARRIER OF YOURS IS STILL DOING ITS JOB! FOR NOW.”

Ford tried to ignore the way Bill’s voice dropped into a register almost too low for human hearing to detect, the way it rumbled up her legs and thrummed in her lungs. She drew in a deep breath, trying to centre herself, control her fear. “So you’re just doing what you always do. Plaguing me with your ridiculous, pointless nightmares because there’s nothing you can do to touch me.”

Bill shrugged Stan’s shoulders, rolling his eyes towards the ceiling with a mocking grin. Ford glanced up as well, and immediately wished she hadn’t. The twisted, howling faces that emerged from the woodwork would be etched on her imagination for weeks. “HEY, YOU SAY NIGHTMARE, I SAY SNEAK PREVIEW!”

“Sneak...”

Bill’s gaze snapped back onto Ford, like a laser, focused and intent on burning a hole right through her. “REMEMBER HOW I GENEROUSLY WARNED YOU I WAS HAVING SOME FRIENDS OVER?”

Ford shook her head. The memory of the nightmare that had driven her to reveal the rift to Dipper and started this whole blasted chain of events in motion jumped immediately to mind, but she couldn’t quite string it together with what was happening around her now. “You got what you wanted. The rift is open, the world is your plaything, everything we know has changed - what could you possibly be warning me about?”

Bill’s smile, if it were possible, grew even wider, stretching Stan’s face in a way that Ford knew from painful personal experience would leave his jaw aching for days afterwards. She winced in sympathy, and that was when it struck her, like a thunderbolt.

“No,” she snapped, pointing an accusatory finger at Bill. “Stanley would never, he’s - he’d see right through you! You have nothing to offer him! He’d never make a deal with you -”

“OH, IS THAT SO?” Bill let out an enormous belly laugh, and the faces on the ceiling howled in an unholy harmony. “IT’S BEEN THIRTY YEARS, SIXER! AND YOU’RE WALKING, TALKING PROOF THAT PEOPLE CHANGE.”

Ford swallowed, hard, past the lump that had appeared, unbidden, in her throat. “You keep your filthy two-dimensional hands off of my brother, or -”

“OR YOU’LL WHAT?” Bill took two steps forward, leering into Ford’s face. She tried to step back, but the ring of flames nipped at her heels, pushing her forward into Bill. “FACE IT, FORDSY, YOU’VE ALREADY LOST! THIS WORLD IS MINE NOW! I CALL THE SHOTS! AND IF I WANT YOUR BROTHER - AND, YANNO, I THINK I DO WANT YOUR BROTHER, HE SEEMS LIKE A FUN GUY! - THEN IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME!”

Both of his slit-pupiled, yellow eyes suddenly turned to little clock faces, hands frantically whirring around the hours as he pressed even closer into Ford’s personal space. 

“TICK TOCK, SIXER!” Bill shouted, brightly, with far too much glee.

Ford –

...

Ford jolted awake.

For a long moment, it felt like an impossible weight was pressing down on her chest, crushing the breath out of her. She clawed at her constricting turtleneck with one hand, pressing the other to her mouth even as she tried to drag in a lungful of air, as though she could physically stuff down the cry that was climbing up her throat.

Darkness had gathered around the Shack so gradually that Ford had barely noticed the red light draining from the sky. Now, it seemed as though night had fallen all at once, a blanket of pure dark dropped over the Shack, muffling the distant shrieks and roars from the town. The living room had, she realised, fallen almost silent, the warm dark full of the sounds of soft snores and sleepy mumbles. Nearly every person Dipper had spent the afternoon enthusiastically introducing her to as ‘the author of the Journals, my great-aunt!’ had either trickled out or found bedding somewhere and hunkered down to sleep. Even Dipper's head was bobbing forward, the bottom of his shirt falling out of his slack mouth, and Mabel was curled up wrapped in the STAN SAVIOUR SQUAD banner, passed out across her pig. 

Ford’s lungs finally inflated, and she gasped in a huge gulp of air. She felt nearly boneless with relief, and yet, the darkness still pressed in on her. She could still see Bill’s clock-face eyes set in Stanley’s familiar face hovering before her, the hands racing. Could still hear his jeering voice promising - no. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Bill might be clever, and devious, and capable of slipping poisoned-honey words into a willing ear like no one Ford had ever met, but still, surely Stanley would never - 

Tick tock.

Ford forced herself to take one long, deep breath, to let it out slowly, listening to her heart gradually calming from its frantic pace. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. Bill was only trying to get to her again, get inside her head. If he’d really been able to get Stanley to join him, he wouldn’t be wasting time on dreams and visions. He would’ve just dragged Stan’s body back to the Shack to gloat. Stan would never fall for Bill’s lies, Stan was - was better than that, was smarter -

She must not have shouted in her sleep, if she hadn't woken the children. Either that, or they were so exhausted that they'd slept right through it.

Regardless, it was well past time they were in bed. Ford took a few more deep breaths before pushing herself to her feet, wincing at the sudden rush of blood from her head. The living room wobbled and flashed bright black and white at the corners of her vision for a moment before everything settled again.

Dipper shook awake the moment Ford put a hand on his shoulder, head snapping up and looking around like a startled deer. "I wasn't asleep!" he protested, dropping the volume of his voice when Mabel sighed and rolled over in her sleep. "I was...contemplating."

Ford couldn't help the smile that stole across her face. "Do you think you could contemplate better from the comfort of your own bed?"

"No, I can do this, I can -" Dipper stopped when Ford gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, sighing and looking down at the carpet by his feet. "I blew it, didn't I." It didn't come out as a question.

"What do you mean, my boy?"

"I don't know, I just -" Dipper threw his hands out helplessly. "It feels like there's something more I should be doing, but I just don't know what, or how, and now you're putting me to bed like a little kid."

Ford bit down on her lower lip, unsure of what to say. She knew exactly what Dipper meant - every second they spent not finding a way to get Stanley back felt like a second wasted. There had to be something that would make Dipper feel less like he was failing, but she couldn’t even begin to imagine what that might be.

If she could, perhaps she’d be feeling a little more hopeful herself.

Finally, she let out a sigh, and lowered herself to sit on the floor beside Dipper, groaning at the stiffness in her knees. “Everyone else is already asleep, we won’t accomplish much by staying up and draining ourselves further. We’ll all need to be at our best to face Bill and whatever surprises he might throw at us tomorrow.” She did her best to swallow down the bitter, sick taste that rose in the back of her mouth at the thought of what those surprises might include.

“I know,” Dipper said dejectedly, rubbing his upper arm and staring down at the floor. 

Ford looked down herself, her eyes wandering until they came to rest on the gentle rise and fall of Mabel’s chest under the banner she’d wrapped herself in. 

“Why don’t you come help me get Mabel to bed,” she said, and Dipper seemed to perk up, just a little. “If you’re still not feeling like sleeping afterwards, we can reconvene here and see if we can find any flaw in the plan that we might have overlooked.”

“Okay,” Dipper conceded, and Ford noticed a small smile had stolen across his face as he watched Mabel and Waddles snoring, though there was still a little wrinkle of worry in his brow. Ford didn’t blame him - the last time they’d watched Mabel sleeping this peacefully, they hadn’t known whether she would ever wake up.

Bill. It all came back to him. Every single person in the Shack, from Fiddleford passed out with his blowtorch in hand over the giant robotic leg he was welding right on down to the plaidypus curled up with the cross-eyed gnome in the corner had lost something - if not everything - to Bill. If it weren’t for Bill, Mabel would never have been forced to see a world where everyone seemed happier without her. If it weren’t for Bill, Dipper wouldn’t have been made to doubt himself like this, wouldn’t be shouldering this burden of responsibility that should never have been his in the first place. (Not when it had been all Ford’s fault, right from the beginning, her folly and her arrogance and her pride -)

If it weren’t for Bill, Stanley would be here with them right now, probably cracking some awful joke and then laughing at his own lack of wit when no one else did. Stanley would be here, aggravating everyone as usual, putting on that showman’s smile to make the children feel better, treating the whole thing like one big joke. Stanley would be safe, and he wouldn’t be - and he would know what to say to make Dipper feel better, and -

None of this would be happening if it weren’t for Bill Cipher.

Ford’s hands clenched into fists without her input, nails digging into the heels of her hands. She tried not to listen to the traitorous little voice in the back of her mind that whispered none of this would be happening if you hadn’t let him in.

“We’re not going to defeat Bill tomorrow,” Ford said, slow, turning her gaze back to Mabel. 

There was a quaver in Dipper’s voice. “We’re, uh, we’re not?”

“No.” Ford slammed one fist into the palm of her other hand. It felt like a river of lava was rising slow through her veins, the heat pulsing in time with her heartbeat. “We’re going to destroy him.”

...

Mabel woke up briefly as Ford carried her up the stairs, her enormous yawn audible even though her face was pressed against Ford’s shoulder. At twelve years old, the twins were almost too tall to comfortably carry, but Ford hadn’t wanted to wake the girl, not when she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. If Ford herself had been able to steal a fraction of that peace in the middle of Weirdmageddon, she wouldn’t have wanted it disturbed.

“Whzfl?” Mabel asked, sleepily, and Dipper piped up before Ford could say anything.

“It’s okay, Mabel, we’re just going up to bed. You fell asleep on Waddles.”

Mabel let out a sigh, her head falling back against Ford’s shoulder. “How late is it?” she asked, sounding a little more awake, though not much.

“Well, according to Bill, time is dead and meaning has no meaning, but I’d say it’s definitely past your bedtime,” Ford answered, drawing a little snort of laughter out of Mabel.

“That means you too, Dipper,” Mabel said, her voice muffled in Ford’s sweater. “I saw you gnawing your shirt.”

“Aw, Mabel,” Dipper protested, but he didn’t try to deny it.

And he didn’t try to resist when they made it up to the attic and Mabel slipped down out of Ford’s arms and pointed...well, pointedly at the bed across the attic from hers. “Bedtime, mister,” she said, and Dipper shook his head, but he was smiling. 

“And that goes for you too!” Mabel added, rounding on Ford. “We’ve got an awesome giant robot house to pilot and an evil geometrical guy to fight tomorrow! You don’t wanna fall asleep in the middle of it! You’ll miss all the fun parts!”

Ford, despite herself, couldn’t help a soft laugh. “You’re right,” she said, nodding in Mabel’s direction. “I’ll leave you two to it, then. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” Mabel echoed, Dipper giving a sheepish wave as Ford stepped out of the attic room and pulled the door closed behind her, careful not to let it slam.

The Shack was eerily still as Ford made her way down the attic stairs. It was strange. She’d lived here, alone, for nearly a decade, and yet, after only a couple of months, it already felt wrong for the place to be so silent.

Ford paused on the second-floor landing, glancing down the hall towards her room before turning towards the stairs down to the main floor. She’d meant what she’d told Dipper. They all needed to be at their best tomorrow. Bill was cunning and vicious - he’d give no quarter, and they wouldn’t get any second chances. Ford knew she ought to try to get some sleep, to make sure that she herself was alert and sharp when their long-delayed confrontation finally came.

That, too, was strange. For years - thirty of them, to be exact - that thought had been Ford’s sole comfort. One day, she would come face-to-face with Bill Cipher for the last time. One day, she would put an end to this game of cat and mouse that they had played for so long, lay all her mistakes to rest, wipe her ledger clean. Even if it meant the end of her as well as Bill.

But now, for the first time, the thought of finally facing Bill filled Ford not with comfort, but with a sick, sinking dread. 

All of her long, hard years of preparation, all of her plans, all of her strategy, it had all come to nothing in a snap of Bill’s fingers. Ford was running blind, while Bill held the upper hand - as, Ford now saw, he always had. The last time she’d prepared herself to face him, she’d been calm, confident. Certain. Now, all she could feel was jittery, buzzing with a nervous energy that bordered on frantic, a need to do something more, something better, something.

Ford knew why. Last time, she’d had a plan. Last time, she’d known what she was doing, what needed to be done. Last time, she’d known - she’d thought - she was equal to the task.

And the last time she’d prepared herself to face Bill, hers had been the only life on the line.

The silent dark of the Shack pressed in on Ford as she stared down the stairs towards the living room, like a smothering, heavy blanket. She tried not to see monsters rising out of the well of shadow at the foot of the stairs, not to hear sinister whispers in the soft snores from the living room. The unicorn-hair barrier should keep them safe, here. Unlike Stanley, who might - who must be facing unimaginable horrors even as Ford tucked the children safely into bed and settled down for the night herself.

The worst part was not knowing. Not knowing what awful things Bill might be doing to Stanley, yes, not knowing what Bill’s game was, why he might be taunting her with the threat of turning Stan against them, but worse, not knowing what to do. Mobilizing the Shack and its protective barrier had been a stroke of genius on Fiddleford's part, an ingenious solution to the problem of how to get to Bill’s pyramid, but what would they do if - when they got there? Ford still hadn’t been able to identify all the members of the prophecy wheel, and the news that Bill’s eyebats had been kidnapping people and turning them to stone meant that she could be missing vital pieces. She didn’t have enough information, didn’t know anything about the people of this town or how to go about learning enough about them to successfully place them on the wheel  - if only Stanley were here, he could have sorted this out in a matter of hours, maybe only minutes, but he wasn’t and anything at all could be happening to him while Ford was busy battering her head against a problem that she had no idea how to even begin to think about solving, but which she still somehow had to solve, or else -

A vision of Stan’s face when Ford had stepped out of the portal, the shocked, disbelieving smile that had spread across it in the seconds before she’d punched him, floated to the surface of Ford’s memory. Her grip on the railing tightened, until she feared she’d give herself splinters.

No. She wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

...

Ford was digging through the hall closet, looking for blankets or pillows or some kind of bedding (and not for illegal fireworks, or a crate of Cuban cigars that, judging from the labels, had been there since the early eighties at the latest, or a painting of a sad clown on black velvet, honestly, Stan) when she heard the front door creak open.

It felt like someone had threaded a live wire down her spine. Ford was instantly awake, alert, listening hard for the slightest sound. The cold stillness of the closet suddenly seemed deathly, every shadow heavy with menace.

Heavy footsteps made the elderly boards of the porch complain softly, and Ford could hear lowered voices, murmuring in thrumming bass tones. She couldn't make out the words, but she hardly needed to. Anyone trying to sneak into the Shack undetected, at this hour, after everyone else was already asleep, couldn't be up to anything good.

Ford tried to ignore the jackhammer beat of her heart, keep her breathing quiet, slow, steady. She took a careful step closer to the door of the closet, scanning the hall before her before reaching up to tug the string to shut off the light.

It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the sudden darkness, a moment that Ford spent watching, tense, for monsters to lunge out of the dark at her, watching afterimages swim in front of her eyes and trying not to mistake them for actual movement. The low mumble of voices from the entryway, thankfully, didn't so much as falter. They must not have noticed the light from the hall, then, to not have been concerned about its disappearance. That was good. That meant Ford still had the element of surprise on her side.

She crept forward, peering out around the closet door. Her night vision was slowly returning, enough so that she could catch a glimpse of movement in the entryway at the end of the hall. Ford sucked in a breath and ducked back behind the door, listening hard for footsteps stomping down the hall towards her hiding place.

Instead of the expected footsteps, though, Ford heard a voice that, despite the fact that she'd only known the speaker for a day, was instantly recognisable.

"And careful with Mabel! I don't want a hair on my marshmalla's head outta place!" Gideon's halfhearted attempt at a whisper turned dismissive as he added, "But if something were to...happen...to that meddlesome twin o' hers, why, well now, wouldn't that just be a shame." His tone made it very clear that he did not, in fact, think this was the case.

Ford bit back the curse she wanted to hurl. Dipper had been right. It had been a trap. And she'd walked right into it, as Bill must have known she'd do, unable to resist playing the hero.

This was no time for self-recriminations, though. The children were in danger. Ford drew her blaster as quickly as she dared, trying not to make a sound, and stepped quietly and deliberately out into the hall.

Every step she took felt like an eternity, every one of her senses screaming as she drew closer and closer to the entryway. The voices fell silent when she was about halfway there, replaced by the creaks and thumps of someone heavy trying to move quietly over the aging floorboards. Ford held her breath, pressing herself against the wall and edging closer to the corner that would let her out into the entry and finally bring her face to face with the intruders.

The thump of heavy footsteps took on a hollow quality, rising up the stairs towards the attic. Ford squeezed the handle of her blaster tight enough to make her knuckles ache, to keep her index finger from tightening on the trigger, and dared to steal a glimpse around the corner. 

The entryway was thronged with - well, Ford hadn’t been in her home dimension for quite some time, but goons were pretty much the same the multiverse over. At least they all appeared to be human, though they also all seemed to be hanging on Gideon’s every word. That couldn’t bode well. It was difficult to tell in the low light just how many there were, but Ford was sure she was badly outnumbered, and, as she’d learned from long experience, charging in now with guns blazing would only take away the one advantage she still had. 

“An’ Fishbait?” Gideon called down the stairs, and Ford had to remind herself to breathe quiet, slow, steady. She hadn’t been spotted yet. She wouldn’t let her emotions get the better of her, give away her element of surprise. But - if that little cretin so much as laid a hand on either Dipper or Mabel - 

Breathe. Quiet. Slow. Steady.

“Yeah, boss?” a nasal voice from the foot of the stairs echoed back, and Ford froze, holding her breath. Whoever was talking was just around the corner she’d just peered around. 

“Don’t you waste too much time on the townies. Just find that unicorn-hair barrier Bill told us about an’ take out a piece, he’ll take care of the rest.”

“Yeah, boss,” the voice agreed, and there was a soft shuffling. The door creaked open, then closed again. Heavy footsteps continued up the stairs, fading as they rose towards the second floor.

Ford drew in another long, steadying breath, clicked her blaster to ‘stun’, and stepped out around the corner.

The two thugs Gideon had left standing in the foyer, one hanging around by the door, one by the staircase, both jumped at Ford’s appearance. The reedier one by the door reached for something at his hip, and Ford lined up, squeezed her eyes shut, and fired a stunning bolt directly into the man’s chest. She opened her eyes just in time to see her target slumped against the wall and the man who had been standing by the stairs staggering backwards, a hand over his eyes, clearly blinded by afterimages from the flash of the stun bolt. Ford fired off another shot in his direction, then hesitated. She wanted nothing more than to charge straight up the stairs after Gideon and his cronies, but - if she let the barrier be broken, then there would be nowhere safe left in Gravity Falls.

Ford muttered a curse that maybe seven other people in this dimension had ever heard uttered aloud, and sprinted for the door.

...

The stairs felt a million miles high. Ford took them two at a time, even though her breath was starting to come hard and her legs burned with every step. Any thought she might have had of stealth or strategy had vanished, reduced to a single, overwhelming focus. All she could think, all she could see, were the terrible possibilities unspooling through her mind. Perhaps she’d stopped the objectively greater threat, for the moment, but she couldn’t tell that to the lump in her throat or the frantic thump of her heart.

She hadn’t made it to the top of the attic stairs before every last one of her fears burst to technicolour life at the sound of Mabel’s shout.

“Let go of me, you - you - you big gorilla!”

“You won’t get away with this, Gideon!” Dipper yelled, from somewhere at the top of the attic stairs. Ford hit the landing at a dead run, crossing it in two steps.

“Oh, but that’s where you’re wrong, Dipper Pines,” Gideon’s smarmy voice echoed down the stairs that Ford was climbing, smug and triumphant. “I already have! Turns out that li’l ol’ barrier y’all were so proud of sure don’t work so well on humanfolk, does it? All I have to do is give the signal, and Bill’s eyebats’ll be all over this ol’ place like flies on a cowpat. And my oh my, but unicorn hair’s such a fragile material. Don’t you agree? Why, anythin’ could just...happen...to it.”

“You monster!” Mabel gasped, her voice muffled by the attic door.

“Scream all you want, sugarplum,” Gideon giggled. “Nobody’s comin’ to help you -”

“Wrong,” Ford said, flinging the attic door wide. Her head felt curiously light, but at least her aim was steady as she stepped into the room, pointing her blaster directly at the dead centre of Gideon’s head. “Put the children down. Carefully,” she added, when the pale-eyed goon carrying Dipper under one arm and Mabel under the other looked suspiciously like he was about to drop them both unceremoniously to the floor.

“Well, well,” Gideon said, turning slowly in place to face Ford. “Seems I spoke too soon. Evenin’, Stanford.”

“Just Ford,” Ford snapped. “I said, let Dipper and Mabel go.”

Gideon tapped a fat finger against his chin, his smile growing as he pantomimed thought. “Hm, no, I’m thinkin’ not.” He held up both hands and clapped them, twice, and Dipper’s shout came just a moment too late. 

“Great-aunt Ford, look out -”

The blow collided with the back of Ford's head like a thunderclap. She barely had time to wonder which of Gideon’s cronies had snuck up behind her, and how, before the world went dark.

...

A low rumble was the first thing Ford was aware of, a deep bass buzz vibrating up through her bones and rattling her teeth. Slowly, the rumble solidified into engine roar and the rattle of wheels over gravel. The floor jolted and shivered underneath her, nearly knocking the air out of her lungs more than once.

Ford opened her eyes.

The sky overhead was reddening with early dawn light. Ford had seen some truly spectacular skies in her thirty years of wandering, but none quite like this. It looked like some particularly deranged - and tasteless - set designer had slapped it together for a Grand Guignol opera. The whole thing seemed awash in blood, save for the eye-searing pus-yellow shimmer of the rift hovering above the black pyramid. The whole sky glared like a gaping wound.

It was a little difficult to see properly, however, because of the bars and the roof of the cage obscuring her vision.

“A cage?” Ford sputtered, pushing herself up off of the bouncing metal floor to grab at the bars, in the faint hope that she might find one loose, or illusory, or discover some other means of escape. She had no such luck. All she got was a clear view of the rough ground bumping away behind her. Apparently the floor was rattling because it was, in fact, the bed of a heavily-modified pickup truck. A cage! There were many things Ford could name that would be more humiliating and demeaning, but with solid metal bars between her and the outside world, none sprang to mind.

“Yeah. I tried to tell Gideon it was kind of overkill,” Dipper’s voice said, and Ford let go of the bars to spin around. Her great-nephew was sitting slumped against the bars at the back of the cage, his hat tipped down to cover his eyes. “In case you haven’t noticed, he’s...kind of a drama queen.”

So Gideon had them. Which meant that they were being delivered, gift-wrapped, to Bill Cipher.

Ford gripped the bars behind her for support, suddenly feeling as though all of her strength had bled right out of her in between breaths. For a moment, everything seemed to settle down on her, like layers of sediment, leaving her immobile, fossilised. 

Ford reached down to draw her coat tighter around herself, only to discover that it wasn't there. A frantic search revealed that her weapons had been taken as well, even the small laser knife she kept strapped to her ankle. Certainly, it didn't actually leave her defenceless - she was perfectly capable of killing another being in hand-to-hand combat, if it came to it - but that didn't stop the firework-bursts of panic that slashed between her ribs and splashed against the back of her skull. Her own movements felt strange, disconnected, as though she'd been divorced from her body. As though she'd been forced out of it -

She drew in another breath, as long and deep as she dared with the thick dust and wafts of sulphur and cotton candy on the wind, feeling the roughness of the bars digging into her palms.

When she trusted her voice again, she asked, “Are you all right?”

Dipper shrugged one shoulder. He didn’t look up. 

“Mabel...?” Ford asked, looking around the small enclosure, though she already knew what she’d find.

“She’s up front with him,” Dipper spat, raising his head for the first time as he jerked a thumb towards the narrow window a little ways above his head. “Gideon didn’t wanna let her out of his sight.”

Ford nodded. It felt like all she could do. She didn’t want to voice what she knew they both must be thinking. 

The weight of their situation, the true depths of her failure, still threatened to fall on Ford, crushing her utterly, but just as she had so many times before, she managed to force it aside. No one else was coming to save them. There was no one to rely on but herself. She couldn’t let Dipper down. She couldn’t afford to break.

“All right,” Ford said, the gears of her mind slowly, ponderously grinding back into motion. “We need to get out of here, find some way to liberate Mabel -” A thought struck her, and she paused, before crossing the bed of the truck in two strides to peer in through its narrow back window. “Gideon mentioned something about Bill wanting us. It would only make sense that that would be where he’s delivering us. If we can take control of this vehicle, perhaps we can use it to enter Bill’s lair undetected.”

“That’s a great idea!” Dipper said, pushing back his hat as he looked up, the ghost of a smile slipping across his face. It vanished as he went on, though, along with the note of hope that had momentarily lit up his voice. “But I don’t know how we’re going to get out of here. I had a look around while you were unconscious, and this thing is locked up pretty tight. I think they welded these bars straight into the frame of the truck.”

Ford gave the back window a cautious push with the pads of her fingers. It felt as thick as it looked, solid, difficult to shatter without being able to get a good wind-up for fear of hitting the bars instead. There was no give in it to suggest that it might be, if not shattered, then popped out of its setting by a well-thrust elbow. And even if she could damage or remove the window somehow, she wouldn't be able to reach far enough across the back seat to get at the driver or Gideon in the front seat. If she only had some kind of weapon - !

“Ugh! Why can’t you just leave us alone!” Mabel’s voice rose, and Ford shifted her attention to the glowing purple thing in the backseat. She’d overlooked it before because it didn’t seem like anything that might help them escape, but now that she saw what it was, it took everything in her not to punch the glass despite knowing how little good it was likely to do.

Mabel was caged, too, locked up in an elegant, scrollwork birdcage just barely big enough for her to sit up in, a huge, triangular padlock marked with a shooting star sealing it closed. She was hugging her knees, her sweater stretched out over them. Ford couldn’t see her face, but she was certain it was a picture of misery.

Gideon spun as best he could in his carseat, pressing a hand against the lapel of his powder-blue suit with a look of put-upon patience. “Mabel, dumplin’, I’m doin’ this for us -”

“There is no us!” Mabel exploded, waving both arms through the bars of the cage so violently that it nearly slid off the backseat. “Gideon, I liked being your friend, but I don’t even want to be that anymore! This is, like, the third time you’ve tried to kill my whole entire family!”

“Fourth,” Dipper muttered, pushing himself to his feet and walking over to where Ford was standing, pulling himself up on tiptoes to peer into the cab of the truck. 

Mabel plunged onwards, clearly unable to hear Dipper’s addition. “What made you think that hurting the people I care about would ever make me like you more?”

Gideon looked stunned, like Mabel had hit him across the face rather than just shouted at him. “They - they were comin’ between us -”

“The only thing ‘coming between us’ is you being a big, creepy jerk!” Mabel took a deep breath, her voice lowering in volume enough that Ford had to strain to hear her next words over the rumble of the truck’s engine and the rattle of the gravel underneath its wheel. What she lacked in volume, however, Mabel more than made up for in intensity. “And if you turn us over to Bill and stop us from rescuing Grunkle Stan - I will never stop hating you! Ever ever ever!”

“Mabel -”

“Ever!”

“Wow, go Mabel!” Dipper said, softly, and Ford looked down to see him beaming from ear to ear. 

Gideon, for his part, looked almost at a loss for words. He reached carefully out towards Mabel, only for her to cross her arms over her chest and toss her head, turning away from him. 

“Well...well,” Gideon started, weakly, sounding a little rattled, but growing in confidence with each word. “I’m certain we can do somethin’ about that. Bill is the master of the mind, after all.”

“What, so your response to her saying she doesn’t want anything to do with you because you’re a creepy jerk is to double down on being a creepy jerk?” Dipper spat, in apparent disbelief. “Cause, no offense, but that hasn’t exactly been a winning strategy for you so far.” He let out an enormous sigh, spinning to lean against the back wall of the truck and pressing the heels of both hands against his eyes. “Okay. We gotta do something, we gotta get Mabel out of there before -”

He cut his own sentence short. Ford looked up, peering past the bars. The floating black pyramid seemed closer, now, looming huge and menacing in the sky ahead.

For the first time, she turned her attention to their surroundings beyond the bars that held them in. Ford didn’t recognise the land they were driving through as part of the town or the surrounding forests - they seemed to have been abruptly transplanted to a red-dust desert scattered with the occasional ruins scrawled with ominous graffiti featuring Bill's single, watchful eye, the heat rising off of the barren ground stifling even from her position above it. Clouds of dust kicked up by the vehicles that flanked them made it difficult to see much, but it appeared that they were in the middle of a convoy of heavily-modified cars and trucks, covered in spikes and graffiti and a truly improbable array of weaponry. Ford thought she caught a glimpse of the water tower stalking on stilt-legs off to their left, but through the dust and the huge, multicoloured bubbles that hung heavy in the air, she couldn’t quite be sure.

The shattered, elliptical dome of a long building rose out of the dust on their right, and Dipper perked up, crossing the cage to look out between the bars at it. "Hey, that's the mall! Oh man, I didn't even recognise this part of town, Bill really did a number on -"

He stopped, mid-sentence, and nearly shoved his face in between the bars. "Did you see that?!"

Ford hurried over to Dipper's side, staring intently out at the wasteland. She didn't see anything beyond the clouds of dust, the slow roll of the giant bubbles, the single Jeep bristling, hedgehog-like, with spikes flanking them -

Ford blinked.

“Wasn’t there another vehicle -” she started, just as a slender, dark shape flew straight out of one of the enormous bubbles and landed in a crouch on top of the spiny Jeep. Ford watched in amazement as the figure grabbed the frame of the Jeep, kicked up into a handstand, spun 180 degrees, and swung down feet-first through the window, their feet colliding with the driver’s head. The Jeep swerved violently, veered right, then left, then -

“Look out!” Ford shouted, grabbing Dipper and dropping into a crouch just as the Jeep collided, heavily, with the side of the truck they were in. Long, wicked black spikes shot between the bars of the cage, one slicing through the air where, just seconds before, Dipper’s head had been. The truck shuddered at the impact, knocking Ford off her feet and onto the floor of the truckbed. She managed to pick herself back up just as the Jeep slammed into the truck again. 

This time, she didn’t try to get back up.

Shouts from the cab and from the vehicles on their left told Ford that she and Dipper weren’t the only ones who’d noticed the strange figure that had hijacked the Jeep. There was a rumble and a squeal, and the truck slowed, the Jeep and the two flanking vehicles speeding past it as the driver braked, hard. 

“Get us outta here!” Gideon squawked, from the front seat, his voice piercing even over the screech of tires and the shouts coming from the other vehicles. “We gotta get these three to Bill by any means necessary -”

“Way ahead of you, boss,” the driver rumbled, and the truck spun back in the direction it had come, throwing Ford and Dipper both up against the bars. The back of Ford’s head cracked against the metal, causing both to ring and stars to splash in front of her eyes for a second, the sharp smell of copper filling the back of her nose and mouth. She gingerly raised a hand to touch the back of her head, but there was thankfully no blood. 

The truck shot back down the street the way it had come, thumping and rattling over the rough ground. Behind them, Ford watched, with a sinking feeling, as the two other vehicles from their little convoy - a police car with a sheriff’s star inscribed with Bill’s eye spray-painted over the legend on its side and a motorcycle with, somehow, seven wheels - boxed in the spiny Jeep. Whoever their strange assailant was, there seemed to be little doubt that Gideon’s henchmen would make short work of them.

She was just testing the bars that the Jeep had slammed up against for any sign of weakness when the truck suddenly jerked to a halt, right in the middle of the road. Dipper gasped, and then, did the last thing Ford would have expected.

He burst out laughing.

Ford straightened up, peering through the back window of the truck to look out the windshield and see what had forced them to stop. She had to blink several times, trying to make sure there wasn’t simply something in her eye. Even in an apocalyptic wildnerness of Bill’s creation, it still strained credulity to look up and see an enormous set of four wheels, taller than a man (had those come off a tractor?), and, perched on top of an equally hulking chassis like a tiara on the head of a Xenophorian thunderbeast, the body of a golf cart.

“What...?” she asked, and Dipper, beaming from ear to ear, jabbed a finger at the driver of the golf cart, a squat figure also all in black. As Ford watched, the figure unwrapped a scarf from around their face - 

- and waved.

It wasn’t just any golf cart, Ford realised, belatedly. The red-and-yellow flags dangling from the roof and the huge, red question mark painted across the nose clearly marked it as the golf cart from the Mystery Shack.

“Soos?” she asked, at the same time as Gideon, from the front seat, let out a petulant whine.

“Am I supposed t’know who that is?”

“Soos!” Dipper yelled, jumping up and down and waving his arms, even though Ford doubted the handyman could see him from the angle he was looking down at the truck from. “We’re down here!”

There was no way that Soos could have heard them from all the way up in the golf cart, perched so high above the street, over the rumble and roar of engines, but still, Ford felt inexplicably warmed when he reached out and gave them a thumbs-up.

The golf cart started to roll, ponderously, forwards. 

The truck lurched back into motion, screeching backwards away from the approaching golf cart, and executed a neat three-point turn before squealing away down the street. Or rather, it started to - but the street was barricaded by the cop car, flipped up onto its side to expose its undercarriage. 

"Just go over it!" Gideon shouted, from the cab of the truck. "What's the use of havin' a monster truck if ya don't crush anythin' with it?!"

The driver didn’t move. A second later, Ford could see why.

The slim black figure that she’d seen take over the Jeep straightened up, balancing precariously on the upturned edge of the cop car. They planted their feet shoulder-width apart and their hands on their hips, head thrown back in obvious defiance, their whole being the physical embodiment of a challenge.

Behind them, the golf cart’s horn tooted, a sound that was honestly much more ominous than it had any right to be.

The truck’s engine growled, low and throaty, the floor under Ford’s feet thrumming like some great, caged beast eager to be set loose on some unsuspecting small herbivore. The dark figure stood still atop the cop car, unmoving. Apparently unafraid.

“Ghost Eyes!” Gideon snapped, and the truck roared to life, leaping forward. 

The spiked grate on the front of the truck rammed into the cop car’s exposed undercarriage just as the figure in black jumped. They somersaulted in midair, landing with knees bent on the hood of the truck as it started to climb up and over the toppled cop car. One hand went to its waist, and pulled free a short-handled axe.

The figure in black gave the axe a quick spin in one hand before slamming it down on the windshield. The instant the axe struck against it, the windshield splintered, spiderweb cracks shooting crazily outwards from the point of impact. The driver jerked the wheel hard to the left, but the cop car underneath the truck kept it stuck in place.

 Another blow, and the windshield shattered.

Gideon’s scream, Ford reflected, sounded remarkably like a stuck pig.

“Wendy!” Mabel yelled, throwing herself at the front of her cage, and the figure in black glanced up, waving through the windshield. The moment of distraction seemed to be enough, though, for the driver of the truck to reach through the windshield and punch the dark-clad figure in the side of the head. She toppled off the hood of the truck, vanishing behind the cop car.

“Go go go go go!” Gideon urged, and the driver obliged, stepping on the gas. The truck gave a furious whine, and Ford could feel the wheels spinning under her, but it didn’t move. Part of the cop car must have been wedged underneath it. "Get us outta here, before -"

A shadow fell over the back of the truck, blotting out the eerie red light, and Ford spun to see the golf cart, towering on its absurdly large wheels, bearing steadily down on them. She grabbed the bars of the cage behind her, shouting at Dipper, “Brace yourself!”

The crunch as the golf cart rammed into the back of the truck was nearly deafening. Ford could feel its reverberations through the soles of her feet, traveling up the bars she gripped. The whole truck rocked, wobbling precariously on its perch atop the upturned cop car.

“Soos! What’re you doing?!” Dipper yelled, waving his arms, as the golf cart drew back.

“Hang in there, doods,” Soos called back, over the rumble of engines and the grinding squeal of metal against metal, his rodent-like face set in an expression of grim determination as he revved the engine for another run up on the truck. “I’m gettin’ you outta there!”

Screaming from the cab behind her told Ford that Wendy had most likely gotten back up. Ford paid the sounds no attention.

“Hit it again!” she called up to Soos, who saluted and stomped on the gas. The golf cart jerked forward, bumping into the cage at the very back of the truck, and there was another screech of metal on metal as the bars visibly bowed inwards. One more blow, and one of the bars shot free with a distressing little metallic sigh.

It wasn’t the only thing dislodged by the golf cart, though. With one final, drawn-out scream of metal, the truck slid forward off of the cop car’s undercarriage, teetering for a moment before its front wheels touched ground. The truck shot forward like a bolt from a crossbow, only to lurch to a stop again a moment later, bouncing forward in fits and starts. Ford realised she’d lost track of how many times now she’d been knocked off her feet.

“Give - me - that - key!” Wendy yelled from the cab, punctuated by soft percussive sounds rather like a gloved hand hitting a sack full of water. Gideon’s shrieks sounded remarkably like Mabel’s pig when someone stepped on its tail, Ford reflected, as she helped Dipper out through the hole Soos had made in the cage and down off the bed of the truck.

“Wendy! Dood, we got ‘em!” Soos called, as Ford climbed down off the truck bed herself. She had to stop and cling onto the bars with all her might as the truck gave one last aborted leap forward, then ground to a stop, the engine chugging down. Ford cautiously lowered a foot to the asphalt below her, and then, when the truck didn’t drag her forwards again, hopped all the way down. 

“Not yet!” Wendy shouted back, frustration clear in her voice. “Gideon’s got Mabel in an evil glowing birdcage, and he’s got the key somewhere.” Her voice dropped, and Ford assumed she was talking to the two in the front seat as she continued, “And this little creep is gonna tell me where it is. Right. Now.”

“No!” Gideon screeched, and Ford finally gave in to the temptation to circle around to the front of the truck, hoping for a better view of what was going on inside. The driver appeared to be out cold, probably felled by the blunt end of Wendy’s axe. Wendy herself had pulled off the dark hood she’d been wearing, revealing her face and her ginger hair, and was in the middle of - Ford blinked - giving Gideon a noogie. “I won this time! I won! Bill promised me -”

“Did he promise you Mabel’s heart?” Ford interjected, unable to help herself. “Because you should know that if he said that, he intends to drop the bloody organ in your hands after he removes it from her still-living body.”

Six pairs of eyes all fixed in Ford’s direction, identical perturbed expressions on each face. Ford managed, under the scrutiny, to shrug. “It’s his idea of a pun.”

She assumed the retching noise from the backseat of the truck was coming from Mabel.

Gideon struggled in Wendy’s grip, held as he was under one of her arms with her fist squashing his magnificent pompadour. “You’re a fool, Ford Pines,” he spat, pointing one finger like a brimstone-and-hellfire preacher passing judgement, though the effect was slightly spoiled by the fact that he was under four feet tall and currently being held like a small lapdog. “Bill Cipher coulda been a powerful friend to ya! But instead, you’ve made an even more powerful enemy.”

“What, you?” Dipper asked, sauntering over to Ford’s side. “Cause, uh, full offense, I saw you get taken down by a swarm of termites once.”

“Cursed termites!” Gideon wailed. “An’ I’ll unleash ‘em to plague you and your family even unto the seventh generation if you don’t tell this woman to get her hands off my hair!”

“Yeah, no such luck,” Wendy said, giving Gideon’s pompadour another vicious punch. It made a sad squeaking sound, and then slowly started to deflate, like a popped balloon. “Hand over that key!”

“No!” Gideon protested, kicking his little legs petulantly. “Mabel’s finally mine! You’re not takin’ her away from me again!”

“What? Nobody’s ‘taking’ me anywhere!” Mabel protested, from the back seat. “Ugh! As soon as I get out of this dum-dum cage, you’re in for a world of hurt, Gideon! And that’s a promise!”

“Yep,” Dipper said, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his puffy vest and giving Gideon a look that was entirely too pleased with itself. “It definitely sounds like she’s madly in love with you."

“She’ll learn to love me!” Gideon yowled, and Wendy had to let go of the remnants of his pompadour to pin him with both arms so he couldn’t wriggle free. “She’ll have an eternity of captivity to come to her senses and see we’re meant to be -”

“It won’t be eternity,” Ford interjected, over the sharp inhale from Mabel and Dipper’s almost audible fuming. “This dimension has been doomed from the moment Bill Cipher opened that rift. I give it maybe a week - less if Bill keeps warping things, dragging things through from the Nightmare Realm, and widening the rift - before it grows too unstable to sustain its own existence and collapses, taking everyone and everything inside of it with it.”

There was a moment of silence, broken only by a distant, inhuman screech.

“Bill didn’t mention that,” Gideon muttered.

“That’s because he’s a lying dirtbag who just says what he thinks you want to hear to get you to do stuff for him.” Dipper said. “Kinda like a dude on a dating website.”

“And it doesn’t matter anyway!” Mabel piped up, her voice high with righteous fury. “Because I don’t care how long you keep me stuck in a stupid cage, or a stupid dream, or a stupid fancy restaurant where they kill the lobsters in front of you, I am never ever ever gonna date you! I don’t know what part of this is so hard for you! Do I have to do an educational and inspiring musical number?”

“What do I have ta do!?” Gideon exploded right back at her, waving a fist. Wendy scowled halfway between annoyance and discomfort, trying to hold him in place. “I tried bein’ a gentleman! I courted you proper! I removed the obstacles your family placed in our path -”

“You mean you tried to steal my grunkle’s house and kill my brother!” Mabel shouted back.

Gideon ignored her, raising his own voice slightly as he ploughed onwards. “Why won’t you give me just one more chance? Mabel, I promise I’d be good ta you -”

“You put me in a cage! And not the cool kind you can dance in!”

“Just for now!” Gideon protested. “Just until ya love me!”

“I already told you, that is never happening!”

“What d’you want from me? I’ve tried everything!” 

“You haven’t tried being a decent guy!” Ford had known Mabel long enough, now, to recognise the crack running through her anger, the dangerous wobble that meant she was close to tears. “You haven’t tried listening to me. I just want you to leave us alone! I just want you to leave me alone!”

The silence that followed felt like a shoe on the wrong foot, or a sixth finger squeezed into a five-fingered glove - awkward, uncomfortable, and only growing worse with time.

“Dude,” Wendy said, to Gideon, finally. “Key or no key, I am so tempted to just drop-kick you right now.”

“Mabel’s right,” Dipper said, and Ford noticed that the smug look had disappeared from his face, probably the moment Mabel’s voice had started to wobble. “Look. Gideon. You’ve tried everything you can think of to force Mabel to like you, and it’s always backfired. What’ve you got to lose by listening to her for once?”

“Wh- she wanted us to just be friends!” Gideon protested, and perhaps only Ford caught the way Dipper’s stare went hard.

“What, being Mabel’s friend is a bad thing?”

Gideon seemed to struggle for words for a moment, his face growing redder and redder. “Well...no, but -”

“I think Mabel’s a pretty good friend.” Dipper glanced up at Mabel’s cage, and smiled. “Scratch that. Mabel’s an awesome friend. You’d be lucky to have a friend like her. And if someday she decides she likes you as more than a friend?” He shrugged, with both hands still in his vest pocket. “That’s up to her, not you. If there’s one thing I’ve learned this summer, it’s that you can’t make somebody love you.”

Ford got the strangest impression that Dipper was looking a little over Gideon’s head, closer to Wendy’s face, when he said, “All you can do is try to be somebody worth loving.”

In the ensuing silence, the driver of the truck let out a soft grunt and twitched. Ford held her breath until the man stopped moving again.

“Well, my my, what a touchin’ speech,” Gideon said, but his usual sickly-sweet sarcasm seemed as deflated as his hair. His gaze turned in Mabel’s direction, and Mabel sighed heavily, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not going to start being your friend again just because you stop trying to murder my family and make me your queen or whatever. You were a major jerky-jerk-jerkface to me, and Grunkle Stan, and Dipper, and - and everybody!” She gave another deep, heavy sigh. “But, if you really do start listening to me, and treating people better, and stop being such a mean jerk...I guess maybe then I could reconsider.”

She raised a hand, one finger extended, like a judge passing down a very important sentencing, and the stars swimming in Gideon’s eyes abruptly shrank. “But! You better show me some rehabilitation first, mister!”

“So wait, am I drop-kicking this dude or what?” Wendy asked. “Cause it’s getting super weird to keep holding him like this.”

Dipper’s gaze flicked over to Gideon, as did Mabel’s. Ford could see sweat beginning to bead on Gideon’s forehead. 

“I -” he started, and then hung his head, dangling limply from Wendy’s grip. His voice dropped in volume until it was nearly inaudible. “I’m in it deep with Bill. You don’t know what he’d do ta me -”

“Actually, we do,” Ford spoke up, and Gideon started, like he’d almost forgotten she was there. “Or at least, I do. I know how much this is to ask of you - I’ve been fighting Bill for the last thirty years.” She gestured ruefully at the wasteland around them, trying to tamp down the burn of the embarrassed flush that started to creep its way up her neck. “You can see how that turned out. But - it’s not too late. Help us send Bill back to his own forsaken realm, reverse the damage he’s done, and save our world.”

Gideon took another long, lingering look in Mabel’s direction.

“Also,” Ford added, folding her hands behind her back, unable to keep the echo of a smile from her face, “I have it on good authority that chicks dig heroes.” 

Gideon didn’t look away from Mabel, until Mabel, visibly uncomfortable, tugged the turtleneck of her sweater up over her face.

“Y’all really think it’s not too late?” he asked, sounding, for the first time, like the child he was.

“To stop Bill? Not as long as I live and breathe,” Ford said, curling the fingers of her right hand so tightly into a fist that her nails bit painfully into the heel of her hand.

“No, I mean -” Gideon gave his head a little shake. “Well, for me. To change.”

Dipper shuffled his feet in the dirt, glancing up at Ford.

“If there’s one thing I’ve learned,” Ford said, shooting her great-nephew a smile before turning back to Gideon, “it’s that it’s never too late to change.”

Gideon drew in a long, deep breath, and let it out slowly, staring at the ground.

“All right,” he said, finally, thrusting his chin defiantly forwards. “Let’s go save the world!”

“Great,” Wendy said. “Now can I put him down?”

[kingsofnewjerseyblogs-blog]

FINALLY HOME

So it turns out this weird device and work on the beach but not in the middle of the woods. This information was very interesting but not the most important thing that happened on our camping trip. Time to summarize the trip. 

DAY 1 

The first day of the trip was a long drive to our camping spot.Nothing really to note on the camping trip other than I read halfway through Frankenstein and than chucked it out the window because LET ME TELL YOU, That scientist is so WHINEY! If I created something as amazing as that I would not leave it abandoned or...or fear it. Take responsibility for what you did, VICTOR!

Anyway, after the drive the next part was spent setting up the tent, listening to Dad grouse, gathering firewood, listening to Sherman complain, and fishing for dinner, and listening to Stan complain about not catching any fish. It was a pretty uneventful day to say the least. 

The night, however, was very interesting. Me and Stanley got our own tent this year...with Sherman but that does not matter. What matters is that we started our plans for the big monster hunt. While doing so we heard a strange noise outside the tent. Investigation shone that something had been in our camp sight. We went back to the tent hopeful of meeting the creature the next night. 

DAY 2

We had more freedom on the second day. Pa took Sherman out on the lake we were near and me and Stanley were left to collect more wood. Instead we took the time to investigate the surrounding woods. We came across some blackberries, which Stanley ate, and then we came across a very strange pile. It turned out to be some kind of carcass. It was very gross...I would not recommend being near one. Stan puked up the berries because of the smell. I also gagged but I had not eatten breakfast so nothing really came up. THIS WAS PROOF THOUGH. That something terrifying was near the camp and we were close to capturing it. 

AND THEN THAT NIGHT IS HAPPENED! I had so many cameras with us when it happened! Me and Stan had a stake out outside the camp, not too far from the fire pit, and we saw it! A great beast just as described! It flew right over our head and we thought we were dead but it left us. Something wet dripped onto our arms and when we got closer to the light again it turned out to be...well...we hope it is some kind of animal’s blood. THE JERSEY DEVIL IS REAL THOUGH! AND. WE. DID. NOT. GET. A. PICTURE. 

STAN THREW TWO CAMERAS A BIRD! I DROPPED ONE. SHERMIE STOLE TWO OF THEM! AND WE LOST THE BAG WE WERE USING THAT HAD THE OTHER FIVE! My proof...lost...aaaaahhhh. 

Day 3

That was today. We packed up camp in the afternoon (after fishing Sherman out of the lake where Stan put him afloat) and headed home. Pa was happy it was a quiet trip this year. I was, and still am, in mourning of my cameras. 

But I could have sworn I heard something as we were leaving the woods. Must be my imagination.

Stanford Pines, Signing Off

[returntothefalls]

Prologue

Return to the Falls, a Gravity Falls fanfiction

Before heading back to Gravity Falls for the summer, Stan and Ford make a quick stop at an old haunt.  However, they are surprised to also find a familiar face waiting for them.

(Chapter 1 of “Return to the Falls”, a Gravity Falls fanfiction.  The up-to-date entirety can be found here.)

A.

The old man opened his eyes and blinked, confused.  He was in the living room, in the old recliner, the best seat in the house.  He must have dozed off while watching “Duck-tective,” but that didn’t seem right.  That show engrossed him far too much to put him to sleep, even if he’d seen the episode a hundred times.

X.

The TV was turned off, but that in itself wasn’t odd.  If he’d fallen asleep with it on, his brother would have shut it off.  That old nerd hated wasting energy and had gone on a big power-saving kick after getting the house back in working order, insisting that the rest of the family keep their lights off and devices unplugged when not necessary.  Of course, that all seemed pretty rich coming from the guy who built a giant universe portal that ran exclusively on raw nuclear waste.  It was a miracle the thing hadn’t rendered the whole town uninhabitable when it went to pieces.

O.

Stan looked around, frowning.  Had he imagined that sound?  Maybe his hearing aid was on the fritz.  The house seemed to be quiet, after all.  The kids must have been outside.  Or … what time was it?  Afternoon?  Night?  The fact that he’d dozed off didn’t help him much; he could fall asleep in the armchair no matter the hour.  Oh well, he felt no need to worry.  Right now, all he wanted was a nice cool drink to counteract the heavy summer air.

L.

A slight noise drew his attention and he glanced to his right.  A pink aluminum can sat on the dinosaur skull end table.  Had that been there before?  He grabbed it and nearly dropped it in surprise; it was ice cold.  Maybe Mabel had left it.  She knew how much he loved his Pitt Cola, especially on a hot day like this.  Without further question, he popped the tab.

O.

The frosty beverage fizzed delightfully in his mouth.  He took a long, refreshing drink and sighed in contentment.  Now this was more like it.  If the kids were out, he might as well just kick back and enjoy some alone time.  He took another swig of his soda and picked up the remote.  With the house to himself, this would be the perfect time to check out the Black and White Period Piece Old Lady Boring Movie Channel.  The Shack was usually too busy for him to have a private moment to sit down and enjoy his guilty pleasure in peace.  He pressed the power button.

T.

There was a soft sound, like the gentle whisper of a breeze, but the television did not come on.  He frowned and jabbed the button again.  Still, there was no reaction.  The batteries must have been dead.  Of course this couldn’t be easy.  He flopped back in the chair and groaned, even though no one was around to appreciate his dramatics.  Why couldn’t Ford have invented a lifelong remote battery, or a robot butler to fetch new batteries, or something useful of that nature.  Surely he and the hillbilly could have put something together.  Sighing, Stan stood up, resigning himself to the fact that he’d have to move from his seat in order to change the batteries.

L.

The TV flashed on, startling him with the sudden burst of color and sound.  A young man with brown hair and an open-collared shirt danced onto the screen.  “Hi, I’m Stan Pines of Stan Co. Enterprises!”  Stan recoiled in shock from the face.  His face.

A.

It was a voice, fully audible now, emanating from everywhere and nowhere.  This time, Stan heard it clearly over the commercial.  The TV screen buzzed with static and the image changed.  It was the younger Stan again, now sporting a bushy mustache.  “Hi, I’m Steve Pinington!”  Stan backed away further, sweat running down his back.  Was it getting hotter?  Was the TV possessed?  Weirder things had happened in the Shack.  Steam rose from the aquarium tank and, judging by the smell, Mabel’s lobster had been boiled to delicious perfection.

X.

Stan’s hair stood on end.  The room felt charged by the voice, like lightning was about to strike.  The TV flickered again.  “Hi, I’m Stetson Pinefield!  Are you tired of piles of owls constantly blocking your driveway?”

O.

The images flew by faster and faster.  Stan’s skin was like wax, melting and dripping to the floor, but he felt no pain.

L.

“I’m Hal Forrester!”

O.

“They call me 8-Ball Alcatraz!”

T.

“Hi, I’m Mr. Mystery!”

L.

An exterior shot of the Mystery Shack remained on the screen, but its surroundings changed.  The sign fell away, the decorations disappeared.  Snow blanketed the house.  The man of many names was still there, standing on the front porch, staring longingly at the door.

A.    X.  O.  L.  O.  T.  L.

The voice droned on with greater intensity.  Stan sank to his knees, which squished sickeningly into the carpet.  The picture darkened and the Shack faded away, but a strange orange symbol still glowed in the blackness.  Without warning, Stan’s back seared with pain and he screamed as blue fire erupted from his scar.

A X O L O T L.

The screen changed one more time.  Another man appeared, almost identical to the young Stan, but wilder, a manic glint in his unblinking eyes.  A tattered red book was clutched in his six-fingered hands.  He stared into Stan’s eyes as though he were there in the room, not merely an image on a screen.  And perhaps he was.

The Journal floated out of his hand, pages flipping wildly in an unfelt gale.  Azure flames licked at Stan’s legs and he struggled to stand back up, but he slumped forward again, his decaying body unable to handle the effort.  A long, merciless laugh rang out, coming from the flames, from the Journal, from the doppelganger in the television.

A X O L O T L A X O L O T L A X O L O T L.

The fire loomed over Stan, twisting and writhing like an entity in itself.  From within the chaotic mass, a familiar shape began to emerge.

“Stanley?”

The man from the TV was looking up at the fire, panic in his eyes.  He lifted up into the air, his arms flailing, as he was drawn through the screen and toward the hellish triangle.  Stan lunged forward, mustering all his energy, but he still could not reach.  “St-Stanford!”  He gritted his teeth, ignoring the flesh-colored drops that fell from his fingertips.

“Stanley?”  The young Stanford was frantic, kicking and screaming in a vain attempt to distance himself from the fire.  A white light glowed in the center of the triangle, shining like a beacon amidst the scorching sapphire.  The mocking laughter shook the earth.

Stan tried to lift his arms, but his energy was gone.  He fell to his side, could feel his cheeks sticking in the carpet, but his eyes were still locked on his brother.  The words came unbidden to his lips.  “I just got him back, I can’t lose him again!”

But he did not stop.  With one final scream, Stanford disappeared into the light and the triangle, still laughing hysterically, crashed down onto Stan, consuming him in fire.

“Stanley!!!”

Stan sat straight up, gasping for breath.  He spun around, but the flames were gone.  The entire room had changed.  He was sitting in a bed, a rather small one.  His bed.  He grabbed his glasses from the small bedside table and slipped them on, blinking as the world came into focus.  The small cabin rose and fell in the gentle rhythm of the sea that he had grown so accustomed to.  A figure stooped by the bed, gripping Stan’s arm with both hands.  It was his brother – the grizzled old adventurer, not his crazy-eyed younger counterpart, driven half-insane by nightmares and paranoia.

Ford smiled, apparently relieved.  “Thank goodness, you’re awake.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Stan grumbled, wiping the sleep from his eyes.  “I’m an old man, sleepin’ is one o’ the few pleasures left in life.”

“Sorry, but you were mumbling and thrashing around,” Ford said.  “Seemed like you were having a nightmare.  Everything okay?”

Stan swallowed hard, the image of the younger Ford covered in blue flames flashing through his mind again.  “Of course I’m fine,” he said, keeping his voice steady.  “I met the king o’ nightmares once, and I smashed his two-dimensional keister into a million pieces.  There’s no nightmare left that can get the jump on ole Stanley Pines.”

Ford gave a short laugh.  “Alright, fair point.  But don’t hesitate if there’s anything you need to talk about.  I promise, I’ll listen.”

“Don’t get all mushy on me yet,” Stan said, lightly shoving his brother aside as he climbed out of bed.  “I haven’t even had my coffee.”

“Already poured you a mug,” Ford said, moving to the door.  “Drink it fast and get ready.  We arrived while you were sleeping.”

Stan froze halfway through pulling on his pants.  “Here?  Already?”  He pushed past Ford and stepped out of the cabin.  The ocean breeze tousled his shaggy hair as he crossed the deck, inhaling a deep lungful of tasty sea air.  He leaned over the rail and gazed across the gray water to the dingy shore beyond.

Ford appeared next to him, coffee in hand.  “I honestly never thought I’d see this place again.”  He paused, watching a seagull as it drifted in lazy circles overhead.  “I wasn’t sure I wanted to see this place again.”

“I know the feeling,” Stan said.  “Technically speaking, I shouldn’t even set foot in the state.  But hey, it’s been forty some years, no one’s gonna remember my ugly mug.”

Ford smirked.  “Well, let’s get this over with.  You get dressed and I’ll take us in.”

Stan turned back to the cabin, then glanced over his shoulder again at the city awaiting him.  “I’m finally back,” he murmured, feeling almost dreamlike as he looked across the misty bay to the small wooden sign standing at the water’s edge, too far away to read but familiar nonetheless.  “Glass Shard Beach.”

***

Strange as it was to return to Glass Shard Beach after so many decades, their entry had been quick and easy.  Ford got them a good price for docking – and Stan continued haggling with the dockworker until the poor sap settled for $5 and an “ancient Antarctic artifact” made of paperclips, chewed gum, and some soon-to-be melted ice cubes.  From there, they set out on foot, visiting a few familiar haunts.  For a silent thirty minutes, they sat in the sand beneath a dilapidated old swingset, its seats long ago rotted away, and watched calm foamy waves lap at the shore.  They explored the cave that had seemed like a whole new world to two adventurous New Jersey preteens; now, it was small and empty, offering nothing more than hollow nostalgia.  The old pawn shop had been converted into a tattoo parlor.  Stan joked that they ought to get matching tattoos, but Ford just pulled his coat a little more tightly around his neck and kept walking.  And now, after a hearty breakfast at Hot Belgian Waffles, they reached their final destination.

Raindrops began to fall, slowly at first.  Ford opened his umbrella and held it over Stan and himself.  The brothers stood before three weathered stones.  They were alone in the cemetery with nothing but unvoiced thoughts and unseen ghosts.  Stan’s eyes ran over each of the graves, waiting for some kind of emotion to stir up inside him:  sadness, regret, satisfaction?  But he felt only emptiness as he read the three names again and again:  his father’s, his mother’s, and his own.

Ford was the first to break the silence.  “It was three days before I thought of them.”  Stan kept his eyes locked on Filbrick’s name.  “I’d been back in Gravity Falls for three days,” Ford continued.  “I was in the basement, dismantling the Portal.  Much easier to take apart than it was to build.  But I guess that’s true for most things.”  He chuckled quietly, but his smile faded as he looked at Stan.  “Things had calmed down a bit by then, and I found myself thinking about all that I’d missed in the thirty years I was gone.  And I thought about Ma, and Dad, and … well, I knew there was no way they’d still be around.  So I never bothered to ask.  And I thought a hundred times about coming back here to see them, but …”  He trailed off.

Stan put a hand on Ford’s shoulder.  “I would never’ve come back here without you either, Sixer.”

Ford smiled.  “Thank you, Stanley.”

Stan gently elbowed his brother in the ribs.  “That wasn’t so hard to say now, was it?”  The two laughed, and Stan marveled at how far they’d come in the last nine months.  That which had once divided them now brought them together.

“I’m glad we could do this,” Ford said.  He frowned, gesturing to the third gravestone.  “But we should probably tell somebody that you’re not actually dead.”

“Eh, the less people who know that, the better,” Stan said, waving his hand dismissively.  “And, uh, ya should probably check with me before ya make any out-o’-state trips in the future.  There may or may not be a few outstanding warrants in your name in the Northwest.  And the Southwest.  And the Midwest, the South, pretty much all your contiguous United States.  And, uh, you’re not sittin’ too hot south of the border either.  Basically, just stick to Oregon, Canada, and international waters, and even then I can’t make any promises.”

Ford sighed, massaging his temple and smiling in spite of himself.  “I’ll try to keep that in mind.  Now come on, we’d better get moving if we’re hoping to get home on time.”

Stan nodded.  “Nothin’ left for us in this town anyway.”  Together, he and Ford turned away from the graves, ready to leave, but they immediately stopped in their tracks.

Another figure was strolling down the path toward them, shielded from the rain by a purple umbrella spotted with a white floral design.  It was an old woman, her face wrinkled and her shoulder-length hair white, but her stride was long and confident, undeterred by her onset age.  Stan squinted at her, his brow furrowed in concentration.  Even after his time spent with Ford and the kids, there were still little gaps in his memory that plagued him from time to time.  And now something was setting off bells in his head, an image fighting to resurface at the edge of his consciousness.

The woman paused mid-step as she saw the two men in front of her, then continued toward them, flashing a friendly smile.  “And here I thought I’d be the only one out here on a gloomy day like this,” she said.

Ford waited for Stan to speak – normally he was the one to take charge in social situations – but Stan’s mouth remained set in a grim line.  “We were just in town for the day,” Ford said quickly.  “Just leaving now, if you’ll excuse us.”

“Oh, of course,” the woman said, stepping aside.  She glanced at the three gravestones as Ford moved past her, dragging Stan alongside him.  “Did you know the Pines family?” she asked.

Ford didn’t look back.  “Yes, we knew them.”

The woman nodded.  “I did too, a long time ago.  I thought I’d come see them one more time before I moved on to greener pastures.”  She stared at the third tombstone for a moment before looking back to the brothers.  “They suffered so much.  But I’m sure you knew that already.”  She smiled sadly.  “I had just left town before it all started falling apart.  Maybe if I’d stuck around, I could have done something to help.”

Stan gave a harsh laugh and finally met her gaze.  “Lady, lemme tell ya, there’s nothin’ you or anyone else coulda done to help that mess of a family.”

The woman locked eyes with Stan, her expression mournful yet curious.  Stan simply shrugged and turned away, nudging Ford to start moving.  However, before he could take a step, the quiet voice behind him spoke once more.

“Stanley?”

He froze.  Slowly he turned back.  A single word popped into his head; it was strange, nonsensical, but it felt right.  He was on the cusp of remembering, he just had to let that one word loose in the air.

“Hotpants?”

The woman laughed, even as her eyes brimmed with tears.  “No one’s called me that in a long time.”  She ran forward, dropping her umbrella in the dirt and throwing her arms around Stan.  A rush of warmth ran through him as the bubbles of memory burst in his brain.  He’d felt these arms wrapped around his neck before.

Ford’s eyes widened as he came to the same realization.  “Carla?  Carla McCorkle?”

“It’s good to see you, Stanford,” she said, pulling back from Stan and bending down to retrieve her discarded umbrella.  She looked between the two brothers and laughed again.  “I can’t believe I’m standing here with you two.”  She glanced back at gravestones.  “You know, I always wondered about you, Stanley.  Seemed to me that a crazy guy like you would never kick the bucket so easily.  But to think that I’d find you here now…”  She wiped away a few stray tears.  “Well, I never dared to hope for that.”

“I never thought I’d see you again either,” Stan said.  “I’ve, uh, had a lot on my plate for the last few decades.”

“I can imagine,” Carla said.  “Wow, I just … wow.  You’re alive.  Stanley Filbrick Pines is alive and standing right in front of me.”  She looked to Ford.  “There’s a story here.”

“A long one,” Ford said.

Stan scoffed.  “My brother got too deep into sciency stuff and I had to fake my death and pretend to be him for thirty years while I tried to save his life.”  He shrugged.  “Pretty simple, if ya ask me.”

Carla raised an eyebrow.  “Sounds like you’ve come a long ways from driving my boyfriend’s van off a cliff.”

“That hippie jerk was hypnotizin’ ya with his trash flower music!” Stan said.  “I stand by what I did!”  His voice softened.  “But y’know, I’m, uh, sorry for all that.  My nephew tells me that mighta been a bit much.”

“I appreciate the apology,” Carla said.  “But don’t worry about it.  I’m sure you’ve grown a lot since then.”

“Less than you probably think,” Ford muttered, earning a jab in the ribs from his brother.

Carla was unable to hide her smile.  “So, you say you have a nephew?  Do you two have families?”

Stan grinned sheepishly.  “Eh, we have our niece and nephew, Shermie’s grandkids.  But that’s it.  I dated around, but I never found anyone worth settlin’ down with.  And my nerd brother ain’t exactly the marryin’ type.”  He leaned in closer, glancing conspiratorially back at Ford.  “Though if ya ask me, there’s a hillbilly back home he’d make a cute couple with.”

“Stan, I can hear you.”

Stan ignored Ford and winked at Carla.  “And what about you?  Live happily ever after with your granola-munchin’ Prince Charming?”

Carla snorted derisively.  “No, Thistle Downe went out with disco.  Dark times, those 70’s.”  She shuddered.  “But your story sounds a lot like mine.  There were a few guys who came and went, but none of them were right for me.”

“Shame, they all missed out,” Stan said.  “You’ve aged phenomenally.”  He blushed.  “Er, y’know, for an old broad.”

“How flattering,” Carla said dryly.  “You’ve not done too bad yourself, Stan Pines.”  Stan’s face grew redder and Carla laughed.

Ford cleared his throat.  “Not to intrude on this happy reunion, but we do have places to be.  The kids will be coming to town in a week and we hope to be there when they arrive.”

“Geez, Poindexter, sounds like you’re in a hurry to get rid of me,” Carla said, her tone playful.

Stan sighed.  “Much of a buzzkill as he may be, my brother’s right.”

“I understand completely,” Carla said.  She smiled.  “It sounds like everything has turned out pretty well for you guys.  I’m really happy for you.  After everything that went down back in high school, I was afraid of where you would end up.”

“We went through a lotta bad stuff,” Stan said.  “And it took us a long time to get past it.  But we made it.”  He grinned.  “Maybe I’ll tell ya the whole story sometime.”

“I’d love to talk again,” Carla said.  “Can I have your cell number?”

Stan scowled.  “Hey, I’ll have you know I haven’t been to jail since … er, if ya don’t count that night for the Madame Ben Franklin dollars, or that whole nuclear waste thing that I was completely innocent of, then I guess it would be –”

Carla smirked.  “Stan, I mean your cell phone number.”

Stan’s face flushed red again.  “Er, yeah, of course.  Uh, Ford, do we have one of those doohickeys?”

“Fiddleford fixed up this old laptop to give us direct video connection to Dipper, Mabel, and Soos’s devices,” Ford said.  “And he also gave me this long-range walkie talkie for whenever we need tech support, like when Stan tries using the computer to check his cash-for-gold sites and crashes it with pop-up advertisements.”

“It’s important business!” Stan said indignantly.  He leaned closer to Carla again.  “Y’see, there’s change comin’.  People say gold’s on the rise, but the real money’s in turquoise.  Little pro-tip for ya.”

Ford sighed.  “So to answer your question, no, we don’t have a cell phone.”

Carla laughed.  “No worries.  I’m sure we’ll get something worked out.  Ask your niece and nephew to look me up on the Internet, they can hook us up.”

“It’s a deal,” Stan said.  “If you’re ever in the neighborhood, just drop on by.  That’s Gravity Falls, Oregon, by the way.  Come to the Mystery Shack, buy some keychains, and ask for the original Mr. Mystery.”  He gave a thumbs up and winked.  “That’s me.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Carla said, smiling.  She extended a hand, blinking in confusion as both brothers flinched back in response.  But they recovered quickly, and Ford and Stan each shook her hand in turn.  Stan’s fingers locked through hers, lingering in her grasp for a few extra seconds before he drew his hand back.

Ford coughed awkwardly.  “Uh, Stan?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m comin’,” Stan grumbled.  He made finger guns with both hands and pointed to Carla.  “You stay frosty, puddin’ … uh, puddin’ pie, dessert cream, uh, creamy cat.”  He covered his face with his hand.  “Er, bye.”

Carla laughed and gave him another short hug.  “Goodbye, Stan.  I’m glad you’re alive.”  She turned to Ford.  “Make sure that doesn’t change.”

“It’s a struggle, but I’ve managed so far,” Ford said.  He put an arm around Stan and turned him around.  “Come on, Stan.  Back to the ship.”

“A good brother wouldn’t let me make an idiot of myself like that,” Stan muttered.

“When have I ever been a good brother?”

Carla watched as the two old men walked away, bickering good-naturedly like they had as kids.  Whatever had happened to them in the interim, some things never truly changed.  It was a comforting realization.

She stared down at the gravestone before her and shook her head in disbelief.  She had seen a lot of extraordinary things in her life, but Stanley Pines certainly took the cake.  She still remembered the sparsely-attended funeral, where Ma Pines had stood up and given a short speech about her “free spirit” who had left too soon.  Shermie stuttered through a generic speech about brotherly love.  Filbrick remained stony-faced, never speaking a word through the whole event.  And Ford didn’t even bother to show up – though now she knew why.  Otherwise, there was nothing more than a smattering of townspeople, several of whom were simply looking for a refund on their Stan-Vacs or Shammies.  Carla wasn’t sure why she attended, but she was glad she did.  She’d seen firsthand how the world treated Stanley Pines, and she respected him all the more for his ability to keep standing under all that abuse.  There was something to be appreciated in a man like that.

A coy smile played at the edges of her lips.  She’d spent the last few years with no real aim in life anyway.  But now she knew where she could find a little fun.  She pulled her cell phone from her pocket and ran a quick search for maps, transportation, lodging.

Everything she needed to know about Gravity Falls.

GRQ'W DVN FDUOD DERXW KHU MRUWV SKDVH

[enigmatist17]

Memory (Ford and Stan Pines) (Bonus?)

This is a sequel(?) of a stangst thing I wrote for @a-million-chromatic-dreams

Also I tried my hand at the Guilty!Ford that @skaleigha made I believe (?)

Stan grunted as he moved about the cabin’s kitchen, eyes glancing at the clock that stated it was now almost noon. The younger twin frowned as he looked over at the kitchen table, a cup of ice-cold coffee still sitting untouched in the place reserved for his brother to sit, as was an untouched plate of eggs and toast. Stanford always at least came up fro coffee, but Stan had not seen him once since last night, his twin giving a weak goodnight before shutting himself away in his cabin.

“What the hell Sixer...” He grumbled, placing the salmon he had finished cooking on the table before making his way to his brother’s cabin, knocking a little harder than necessary. “Sixer! Food’s ready, again.” His heart began to beat a little faster when there was no answer, Stan surprised to find the door was locked, but with an expert flick of his wrist with his trusty lock-pick the door swung open into the dark room. Stepping into the room Stan felt the hair raise on the back of his neck when the smell of blood filled his nostrils, the male immediately flicking on the light switch. Stanford was sitting on the floor against his bunk, the man’s right arm slowly dripping blood onto the wood below between the fingers clamped over the wound. “Sixer?!”

“S-Stanley?” Ford’s voice was raspy, tears slipping down his cheeks as his brother vanished for less than 30 seconds, returning with the first aid kit and a damp cloth, which he placed over his brother’s bleeding arm. The room was silent as Stanley worked as quickly as he could to stem the flow of blood, the wound deep enough to cause worry, but easily could be sewed up with Stan’s skill he had picked up over the years. 

“What the hell were you doing?!” The younger twin cursed, Stanford glancing away as Stan checked over his handiwork with a quiet grunt.

“Fixing a mistake...” He replied quietly, Stan’s eyes going wide in alarm as Stanford tried to curl in on himself, as if trying to retreat from his alarmed brother. “I was so close this time...”

“This time?” Time seemed to stop as Stan stared at his weeping brother, whose face was pale and sickly looking at the blood loss. “What do you mean this time?”

“Isn’t it obvious? I shouldn’t have come back, I should have died when I was fighting Bill.” The words spilled from Stanford’s mouth faster than he could stop himself, Stan listening in shock as his brother started to cry even harder. “I ruined everything and I want it to fix it...this is the only way.”

“You didn’t ruin anything...” Stan said, though Stanford seemed to not hear what he said, left hand searching for the blade he had used on himself.

“I brought Bill here, I nearly killed the whole town, I nearly got the twins killed, I drove my closest friend to insanity, I deserve nothing more than to die so I can atone for my mistakes!” Stanford screamed at Stanley in desperation, eyes flashing as his slender fingers wrapped around the blade he had come across in some long-past dimension. Hearing the clink of metal against wood Stan snatched Stanford’s wrist before he could drive the blade into his neck, wild and desperate blue eyes staring into determined and concerned navy. the two struggled for a few moments before Stanford eventually ran out of strength, sobs bursting from his lips as he sagged forward onto Stanley’s chest, left hand weakly grabbing at his shirt when Stan tossed the blade far from reach.

“Sixer, this ain’t the way to do this.” His voice was low and resigned, gently cradling Stanford close to him as he began to rub his shaking back in small circles. “Jesus Ford...why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“I-I was bothering...you a-and...I don’t want to l-lose you...” Stanford whimpered, his grip tightening on Stan’s sweatshirt as if letting go would be the end of him. “I’m so sorry...I-I just ruin everything...”

“No, you don’t. We both made our mistakes Sixer, don’t you dare put it all on yourself.” Stan frowned, sighing as he felt his brother weakly try to push himself away, though he didn’t get far due to the thick arms securely wrapped around him.

“If I had believed you...I wouldn’t have lost you.” His brother whimpered through his tears, Stan wincing at the memory of the night he had been kicked out of his house. “I ruined everything...and my greed nearly cost the lives of everyone in the multiverse...”

“Bill manipulated you Ford, that’s what he did.” Stan grit his teeth at the mention of the demon, his grip loosening so he could pick his brother up with minimal resistance, Stanford looking just exhausted as he was carried to Stan’s bunk. “He’s manipulated people before, you were not the first.”

“You would have seen him for the conman he was...” Stanford muttered before finally passing out, Stan’s gaze troubled as he removed anything sharp from his cabin and eventually took a seat at his desk with a sigh.

Oh Sixer, how am I supposed to fix this?

[starherd]

Mission 50:  44. West Virginia (The White Thing)

Behold, my first completed Gravity Falls fic, finally (it’s been a busy, busy year). This is a Stancest fic, so if senior Stans groovin’ on each other ain’t your thing, move along. Title: West Virginia (The White Thing) (#44 for @cheeziswin‘s Mission 50 project, and severely late) Rating: let’s be safe and say NC17 (I’d say R but it’s at the level you find in like... Terminator or Watchmen, so better to err on the side of safety) Quick Summary: A spat, a scare, and recovery

Word count: 4000+ note: temperature numerically referenced in Farenheit It wasn't all warmth and understanding, and there was no way it could be, and Ford reminded himself of that over and over.  It wasn't a failing that they still had their miscommunications and spats; it only meant that they were human, that was all.  The important thing was that they'd made up their minds to work it out when they fought, not trying to uphold the impossible ideal that they'd never fight.

Mission 50: West Virginia (The White Thing)

It wasn't all warmth and understanding, and there was no way it could be, and Ford reminded himself of that over and over.  It wasn't a failing that they still had their miscommunications and spats; it only meant that they were human, that was all.  The important thing was that they'd made up their minds to work it out when they fought, not trying to uphold the impossible ideal that they'd never fight.

It was just that he'd needed time.  He'd needed to cool off.  Stan had been horsing around this entire investigation, acting like this was just a camping trip, just a hike, not a scientific endeavor.  It had become intensely irritating.  He'd had to listen to so many jokes about the White Thing (you could just call it Sheepsquatch, Stanley, it's a valid alternate name and might keep you from getting so off-track) and so many iterations of "That's what she said" (Stanley who are you even talking about, will you kindly stop laughing, what in blazes) that Ford had, quite simply put, lost his temper.

He hadn't meant to blow up at his brother.  It had just happened.  He'd snapped angrily, accusing Stan of not taking this work seriously, of trying to sabotage his research efforts - again.  And that had been the mistake.  Stanley had gone stone-faced and said only that he was heading back to camp, and left.  Ford hadn't even turned around, glaring at his notebook while listening to his brother stomp away through the thick cover of dead leaves on the forest floor, slipping occasionally in the wet and mud because of the steep slope. That had been hours ago.  Ford had completed his surveying of the heavily wooded sighting area in peace; it wasn't until he realized just how much time had passed since Stan had stormed off that the hairs on the back of his neck prickled in concern.  The cloud cover had become increasingly heavy, and it had begun to rain, the temperature dropping - it must be down into the low fifties, not impossible for these mountains in late spring, but a bit unexpected.  He'd made his way back to the camper as darkness fell, rehearsing in his mind how he would make peace with his brother, who had doubtless already begun to prepare dinner in his absence.

But their camp site was cold and empty.  Stanley had never returned.

And something else was there.

The White Thing was a cryptid that Ford actually knew a little about.  It was native to the mountains of West Virginia and prone to appearing in many forms.  It seemed to function as a forest guardian, or perhaps even a death omen, or both, depending on one's source of information.  When he'd seen the headline during their road trip that it had been sighted recently in an area not too far from their chosen route, it had been inevitable that they'd altered course to attempt to investigate.

One of the most unique features of the White Thing was that it was said to attack not on a physical level, but a spiritual one, something like the Gremloblin.  When its claws caught you, you experienced pain, but there were no physical effects. He could now certainly attest to the truth of that rumor, Ford thought, looking down at the clawed limb plunged into his chest.  There was a complete lack of blood; even his sweater seemed to be intact.  But nevertheless his heart was racing, his body tense and shaking and sweating, and he felt sick with the intensity of it as surely as if he'd been impaled.

Somehow, his pencil did not fall from his numb fingers, nor did his notebook, though the increasing patter of rain was likely to soon soak the paper and make it difficult to write.  His breath caught as he lifted the implements and he shakily raised his gaze to the snarling face of the filthy pale-furred creature that had him pinned to an oak tree, held a foot off the ground. He swore he could feel blood pouring from his mouth when he coughed, but he was equally sure that it was an illusion.  "F-fascinating," he choked out.  "Is this a - a territorial defense behavior, or -"

The White Thing huffed, breath fogging from flat nostrils in the unusually cool air as a rumble of thunder heralded heavier rain.  "Or is it des... des..."  Ford licked his lips, mouth dry, trembling pencil set resolutely to paper.  "Designed to actually function in a predatorial way?  Are you feeding right now?" The White Thing twisted its claws in his chest, and Ford screamed.

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

It had been dark for some time - long enough that Stanley's irritation at his situation was eroding away into concern, if not fear.  He wasn't sure just how far down into this ravine he'd slid when he'd lost his footing in the wet leaves, but it was far enough that he couldn't see or hear anyone passing on the trail above, and he knew he was too far from where he'd left his brother to be heard just by yelling.  He'd gone hoarse doing that for a few hours already.

The concern arose from the intensifying rain and drop in temperature, and the fact that he couldn't move.  His ankle throbbed angrily, trapped under a log that had shifted when he'd slid down the side of the ridge - though ironically that had stopped him from sliding further, off a small cliff into a rushing stream below.  But he was trapped, unable to free himself to crawl back up the slope, and the signal for the cellphone he shared with Ford had been so bad in these mountains that they'd left it back in the camper.

The valley was narrow, so it was barely twenty feet to the far (and equally steep) side here.  Now and then he'd heard rustling leaves over there during the past few hours, and had, when he'd turned far enough, seen a shaggy black dog.  At least he hoped, in the failing light, that it had been a dog.  Black bears were a thing here, he recalled.  But calls of "here boy" had only been met with silence, and finally after "oh what are you looking at?!", the creature had wandered off, apparently unconcerned.

Time wore on, and Stan's stomach growled, and he finally let himself begin to think it.  He didn't want to die.  Not here, not like this.  He didn't want the kids to hear that he'd died of exposure after falling down a mountain and getting stuck, due to stomping off because he hadn't wanted to deal with his stupid brother's temper tantrum.  He didn't even want them to hear that he'd died.  Or even that he'd gone missing for that matter.  If he had his way, the only way they'd ever know that he'd died would be if, some time in the future, they just assumed he must have by now, after not hearing from him and Ford for a few decades. That was how it was supposed to be.  Him and Ford sailing off into the sunset, more or less literally. Ford and him?  Oh, what the hell ever.

Definitely not that they'd had a fight and he'd disappeared.  That was the stupidest end possible for them at this point, wasn't it.  That - Oh god what if Ford thought he'd disappeared on purpose.  It wasn't as though it was their first spat by a long shot.  What if Ford got it into his dramatic head that he'd so offended his brother that Stan had left him, and wasn't even looking for him (because surely he would be by this point if he was going to at all, wouldn't he?). That was exactly the kind of ridiculous conclusion that Stanford Pines would -

"Oh, shut up," Stan said aloud, scowling at himself and folding his arms tightly.  Truth be told, Ford wasn't the only overdramatic idiot in the family, was he.

He huddled miserably into himself, already soaked and cold, and tried as hard as he could, but failed, to not think about what would happen to Ford.  How it would hit him, to find him too late.  How it would hurt him...

There was another rustling and crunching of leaves, just barely audible over the hiss of rain.  Stanley looked up across the gorge again, straining his eyes in the near-complete darkness. He didn't have to.  There was a black-on-black shape there that might've been that dog or whatever from earlier, sure, but there was also a massive pale creature that seemed to almost glow, albeit dimly.

It had a face - vaguely familiar, like something he'd seen before - and it was staring at him.

Stan stared back. That lasted for all of thirty seconds before he'd had it.  "What?!"  He yelled across the ravine, voice echoing between trees as the rain eased up.  "What do you want? Look, I'm too old for this shit.  Go get help if that's what you're here for.  If you're here to kill me, then get on with it.  If you're just here to watch?  Fuck you!"

His audience vanished. In the dazzling darkness that followed, the rain tapered off, finally ceasing all together.  Stan strained his ears for any sound that might indicate that he was being stalked, but other than dripping water and the creek below, there didn't seem to be anything to hear.  It was a useless gesture, but he managed to turn on his aching hips and properly sit up for the first time in hours, removing his glasses to clean them with his soaked shirt.  His legs felt stiff, but -

Wait.

The log was gone.  It had been there a moment ago, but now it was gone, and he could turn and sit and...

Stanley knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth.  He scrabbled to his feet as best he could - his ankle didn't even hurt, but that was just another thing to not question - and began to carefully haul himself back up the ridge toward where he knew the hiking trail to be.

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

He wasn't sure what he'd expected to find when he got back to the camp, but it wasn't the dark cool stillness that he found.  It looked like there was nobody around. Despite being soaked, he'd warmed considerably with activity as he'd hiked back, but something icy cold coiled up inside him as it occurred to him that maybe Ford hadn't come back either.  Maybe he'd gotten himself lost looking for -

Stanley swallowed - work with what's in front of you, not what you imagine. He reached the camper and opened the door, groping for the battery lantern kept just inside; his eyes had adjusted to the dim night, but it was still difficult to see.  "Ford?  Hey!  You here?" He didn't see or hear anyone at the site, and received no answer. There was no one in the camper, but something prompted him to look behind him as he flicked the lantern on.  A hint of movement or color reflecting from behind him in the chrome trim inside the camper, maybe...

His brother was sitting in the muddy clearing, arms around his knees, with his back to the camper.  He was rocking so slightly that Stan hadn't previously caught the motion, or at least hadn't registered it as different from the foliage shifting in the light breeze.

"Ford!" He almost dropped the lantern as he half-ran, half-tumbled forward to reach his brother.  Ford hadn't responded to him, and the way he was positioned, and - well, it was obvious that something was severely wrong.  "Stanford!"

Still no response.  Stan did drop the lantern now, so that he could take his brother's head in both hands and lift it, almost prying him out of his seated fetal position.  "Ford, hey, Sixer, come on, look at me, it's okay, it's -"  He was lying, something wasn't okay at all, but he couldn't stop himself.  "It's okay, look at me, look at me..."

Ford's face was colder than his hands, his lips violet, his eyes wide and unfocused behind fogged glasses; Stan wasn't sure if it was tear-streaked or just carelessly wiped of mud and rain or both.  He glanced down over his brother but couldn't see any obvious wounds or blood.

"Stanley?" Ford's voice wavered, weak and pained, and Stan realized that he was staring back at him.  He'd stopped rocking back and forth, but he seemed shocked, disbelieving.

It was starting to rain again.

Stan gave a strained grin; it wasn't quite relief but it was a start.  At least Ford could come back from... whatever had happened to him. "Come on, on your feet, got to get inside, warm up -"

"We should leave," Ford said quickly, cutting him off.  He let his brother draw him to his feet, but he swayed dangerously, trembling.

The rain was getting heavier.  "Yeah, no, I'm not driving until you're fixed up enough to get to a hospital if you have to." "But -" "Can it," Stan said firmly.

"The White Thing -" "Is out here.  I get it.  Now get in the camper," Stan snapped.  He'd snap the thing in half himself if he saw it after this, even though he increasingly suspected that it had been what had freed him.  Probably, it had wanted him to come get his idiot brother out of the area.  How many times had Ford gone and gotten himself in trouble with whatever he was studying, now? Stan had lost count.

Something in his tone got Ford moving, though he stumbled, looping his arm around his brother and clutching tightly.  Stan half-dragged him to the camper and nearly shoved him inside before  dashing back for the lantern.  And then dashing back again for Ford's notebook, lying discarded and soaked on the muddy ground.

Then they were inside and locking the door, flimsy shield that it was, as the rain began to come down again in earnest, softly roaring against the roof and walls of the camper.

Ford huddled dazed on the floor as Stan got the lights and shucked his soaked clothes.  "Where'd that extra comforter go?" He asked, stepping over his brother to the sleeping area.  "Come on, clothes off.  Where'd it get you?"  He tossed the sought-after blanket to the bed, letting the door of the cabinet it had been in slam as he delved into another compartment for the first-aid kit.

"W-what?" He could see Ford struggling to recover, grasping at reality.

"I can't tell where it got you," Stan explained.  "Where ya bleedin'?"

Something seemed to click for Ford.  "I'm not," he said abruptly.  "I - it was a psychic attack."  He drew a breath, further pulling himself together.  "I'd already theorized from the description that the White Thing might be of some relation to the Gremloblin, but that would seem to be proven now.  Its mode of attack, however, is slightly different..."

"Yeah, yeah.  You're fine, obviously," Stan smirked, putting the first-aid kit away again.  Yeesh.  At least that was a relief; he didn't have to worry about his brother bleeding out or anything.

"No, I -"  Ford was still shaking, Stan realized, even as he pulled his brother to his feet. "No, no, you don't understand -"

"So tell me," Stan said, pulling Ford out of his wet clothes.  "Come on.  Keep talking."  It seemed like a good way to get the upset out of his system.

"I need you."

Stan paused.  "Okay, wasn't expecting that."  It was only a moment's pause.  With them both mostly stripped, he pulled his brother to the bed and sat down with him, drawing the comforter around them and rubbing at Ford's shoulders.

"No, I mean -" His brother struggled with his words - not something Stan was used to seeing.  It would have been refreshing if not for the edge of concern it brought.  "All that time, without you, I still..."

He took a deep breath and tried to start over.  "The Gremloblin only shows you your worst fear.  This - this was a bit different. The White Thing seems to want to drive you out of its territory, so it doesn't focus on fear as much as pain.  It's an attack, not - not a hunting mechanism.  But it, the pain it causes - maybe just the thought or threat of physical pain is enough most of the time, for most, but for me, it..."

Ford swallowed, steeling himself to go on.  "It... brought up... all that time without you.  I was so angry, for so long, but... I still hung on to you.  The idea of you.  Eventually when I thought I'd never see you again it, it hurt.  I wanted to.  I wanted to see you and talk to you and be with you and it was never going to happen and the last things I said to you... even back then that wasn't how I wanted things to go, seeing you again.  At the time I couldn't...

"It doesn't matter."  He took a deep breath.  "Stanley, it told me I came back and rejected you so you rejected me, derided me, hated me the way I deserved after how I'd treated you, and I was too wrapped up in myself to see it.  And the worst part is I knew!  I knew I was driving you away!"  If anything, Ford seemed to be growing more distressed, not less, the more he went on.  "I knew I was doing it!  I knew I was... was losing you.  And I couldn't - couldn't make myself stop -  Why couldn't I just say -"  He sputtered, unable to continue speaking.

Stan had heard it before (mostly some version of it repeated whenever Ford made the mistake of getting drunk), but this was like the first time, torn raw and new and aching.  But that Ford had known what he was doing and been unable to stop himself - that was new.  And frightening, obviously so to Ford at least, regardless of whether it was true or part of the nightmare.

If he'd phrased it himself, it seemed clear to Stan that while the Gremloblin only showed a person their fear, this Sheepsquatch asshole made you feel it.  Or something like that.

"Hey. Sixer."  Stan held his brother's face in his hands and tried to make eye contact, but Ford kept looking down, twitching, too distressed to hold his gaze for more than a moment.  "Hey." Stan forced him to be still.  "You're okay.  It's okay now.  We been over this.  We're good."

"We're good?" Ford echoed, blinking, but still not more than glancing up.

"Yeah, remember?  We -"  

"I'm sorry."

Now Ford was looking at him.  Staring intensely, in fact.  "Stanley, I never should have - I don't know how I..."  He glanced down again, but he'd laid one hand on Stan's shoulder, and patted awkwardly.  "I don't deserve - God, I don't know how you can ever forgive me." "Like this."  Stan grinned, and abruptly turned Ford's face toward his, tilting so that he could lay a quick, gentle kiss on his twin's lips.  "You're forgiven." He rested their foreheads together, moving one arm around Ford's back, rubbing in an attempt to sooth him.  "You've been forgiven for a good while, dummy.  Quit carryin' it around.  That ain't who you are anymore even if Jerksquatch out there says different."

"Stanley..." Ford's voice choked to silence.

"Sixer," Stan sternly told him, "If you were still that much of an asshole, you wouldn't feel bad about it bein' rubbed in yer face, would ya?"

Ford huffed, and his shoulders twitched, then shook, and for a moment Stanley was concerned that he was still too miserable for such logic.

But the next sound he made was distinctly laughter.  Stan grinned again as Ford relaxed into his arms, embracing him back.

He was a little surprised by Ford kissing him, though, particularly by the force behind it.

Things went a bit comfortably horizontal from there, with Ford mumbling something about endorphins and oxytocin, as though he had to justify wanting this.  Stan only laughed and let him ramble - for as long as there wasn't a better use for their mouths, at least.  When Ford pulled away from him, it was only so that they could enthusiastically clear their remaining clothing and resume, at least until Ford crawled over him, holding Stan down until they were positioned to their liking.

This wasn't sex, Stan thought.  It wasn't fooling around, or making out, or anything like that.  It was gentle, and attentive, and... love. Stanford was making love to him.

There was a stab of emotion like lightning, so intense that it hurt, in his chest and throat and... lower.  If it hadn't mercifully choked his voice he knew he'd have started blurting out the same kind of maudlin things Ford had been struggling to express a little while ago; just that realization was enough to erase that sweet feeling of pain and replace it with... elation.  Joy.

With a satisfied groan, Stan squeezed Ford's hips and thrust more deeply into his brother, giving him everything he could, connecting them as closely as physically possible.  Ford bent forward, making a small sound that seemed the most enthralling, wonderful thing Stan had ever heard.

Stan let his hands roam, fingers smoothing over scars and stubble and finally intertwining with his brother's as their breath came quicker and movements more forceful.  He pulled, bringing them together so that Ford didn't have to strain to support himself so much and could focus on their connection; Ford relaxed a little and bent to lay his forehead against Stan's chest and moaned deeply, both at the closeness and the feel of his own erection pressed between their bodies.

When they came, it was together, neither aware of even a fraction of a moment's separation between them.

Stan's mouth twisted into a satisfied smile - far too warm to be considered a smirk - as he wiped at his stomach with a handful of tissues from the shelf by the bed, having handed the rest of the box to his brother.  It wasn't the first time that the almost-smug thought crossed his mind that the only shame in this was that they couldn't acknowledge it in anyone else's presence.  Stupid uptight society. Weird as everything about their lives had been, what the hell did it matter if they were together like this?  It wasn't anyone else's business, and wasn't hurting anybody.  All they'd ever needed was each other anyway.  That was just how it had always been.

And always would be.

The rain slacked off within a few hours, but still fell, a gentle staccato hush rather than a roar.  

Ford's voice was soft and warm against Stan's chest from the pillow of his shoulder.  "I love you, Stanley." Stan wasn't asleep - simply enjoying Ford's presence, eyes closed, soaking him in.  But Ford started it.  "Wow, Sixer," Stan rumbled, beginning to run his hand over his brother's shoulder again, memorizing the pattern of scars against his palm.  "That's really gay." He felt Ford tense satisfyingly in his embrace.  "Seriously, Stanley?"  His voice was flat, louder, sharper, though he didn't shift his position at all.  "All the potential responses in the multiverse and that's what you come up with?" "Well." Stan gave him a squeeze.  "I thought you were sick of hearing me say 'that's what she said'."

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

Stan almost felt bad as he surreptitiously added another star to his map; this hadn't been quite what he'd thought of when he'd envisioned this entertaining little project, after all.  But they were leaving West Virginia.  Technically, it still counted, right? Ford smiled easily at him from the driver's seat when he crawled back into the cab of the camper. Right.  Stan grinned back.  Everything was right.

[queenofcats17]

The Demon’s Train

A quick story based on The Devil’s Train by The Lab Rats.

Who’s gonna ride the devil's train tonight?

Stanford Pines and his brother had always been hardworking men. Their family had never been well off, so they’d worked from dusk till dawn to be able to put food on the table. Filbrick Pines was a stern man, and he dreamed that one day his sons would make it out of this dead end town and make the family a fortune. Since Stanley wasn’t the brightest bulb in the shed, Filbrick’s hopes fell to his other son, Ford. He praised his son’s aptitude in academics, or at least did the closest thing to praise the man was able to. Eventually, the family scraped together enough money to send Ford to college, leaving Stan to stay and work with his father. With the birth of the third Pines child, Shermie, Stan was needed at home more than ever. Meanwhile Ford dedicated all his time to his studies, never halting his pursuit of knowledge for an instant. But something wasn’t right with him. Every so often other students or even a professor would find him gazing out the window, straining his ears as though listening for something.

“The train...” He’d always murmur. He regularly went on walks near the train tracks to clear his head, so no one really thought much of that at first. But this wasn’t him longing for peace and quiet. His roommate Fiddleford knew something had happened on the train tracks one night, although Ford would never discuss it in detail. Ford had met someone on those tracks. Someone who promised him secrets.

“I can’t explain it.” Ford had said when he’d returned that day. “But he says he’ll teach me everything.” Fiddleford, of course, had been suspicious of this. The sorts of people who hung around on train tracks were hardly the sort Ford should be getting mixed up in. But Ford hadn’t listened. In later days, he tried to put the thoughts of the train tracks from his mind many a time, but the call only seemed to grow stronger with each passing day.

“Follow me, follow me. follow me, follow me.” And it got louder. “Follow me, follow me. I have something to show you.”

It was at this point that Ford began to act erratic, missing school, talking to someone no one could see, shutting himself up in his dorm room for hours on end. And one day...He simply disappeared. The school phoned Stanley, as Filbrick had passed away by this point, asking if he’d seen his brother. No one at the school knew where he’d gone and some had assumed he went home for a break. After all, the boy had been studying like his life depended on it. Stan panicked, since he hadn’t seen his brother either. Three days later, Ford appeared on his brother’s doorstep. He had no money, his shirt was on backwards, and he was stumbling as though he was drunk. He called out for Shermie, who came toddling out, only about 4 or 5 at the time. Ford took his littlest sibling on his knee and told them this,

“If you ever have grandchildren let them know that his great uncle loves them very much. And by the time they’re grown be sure they remember this. Don’t ever walk to the tracks alone.” Then he put Shermie down and left.

.

Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train

Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back

Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop

Who’s gonna ride the devil's train tonight?

.

Dipper Pines had grown up hearing stories about his Grunkle Ford from his whole family, especially his Grunkle Stan. Ford had always been painted as a genius and a hard-working man, but the stories from his parents had always been tinged with a hint of warning and disdain. They thought Ford had been crazy. He’d just run off one day and no one knew why.

“He wasn’t right in the head.” They’d say. “Never cared about anything but his studies and experiments.” But Dipper didn’t think his Grunkle had been crazy. After all, he was more like Ford than anyone else in his family. Dipper had never been interested in the family pawn shop, choosing instead to bury his head in a book. He devoured any and all knowledge he could find. His sister Mabel shared his curiosity, but Dipper was a level above her. He had a burning desire to know everything about the world. Nothing his parents could say would stop him. Despite what his parents told him, Dipper regularly went on walks along the train tracks. It was the only place that was truly quiet since the train didn’t run too often anymore and hardly anyone was ever there.

“Aren’t you worried though?” Mabel asked him. “You could get hurt.”

“Mabel, it’s fine.” Dipper said. “Nothing’s going to happen to me on the tracks. I’ve gone there a dozen times and nothing’s ever happened.”

“But it’s dangerous there.” Mabel sunk down in her bed, pulling her sheets up to her nose. “You could fall off the edge, you could get run over.”

“What happened to, ‘Forget danger! Live life to the fullest!’?”

“This is different.” Mabel said. “It’s...” She trailed off “...Nevermind. Let’s just go to sleep, okay?” Dipper shrugged but rolled over and started reading. He always had to read before going to sleep. His favorite book to peruse was his great uncle’s journal. When Ford had vanished he’d left behind three journals filled with frantic ramblings and pictures of creatures that couldn’t possibly exist. Whenever someone wanted to claim Ford had been crazy they used the journals as evidence. But Dipper saw the journals as something amazing and inspiring. If what his grunkle had written was true, then this could mean so many things for the scientific community. It would open doors no one had ever dared to open before. His grunkle had been a genius, not a mad man. Dipper fell asleep holding the journal, contented. That night, something terrible happened. His Grunkle Ford appeared to him, body broken and bloody. Ford said nothing, just staring at his great nephew with sad eyes as his blood dripped onto the bed sheets. Dipper screamed and fell off the bed with a loud thump. Ford turned and stared after him as the boy ran out of the room, out of the house, and towards the train tracks....

.

Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train

Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back

Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop

Who’s gonna ride the devil's train tonight?

.

Dipper’s head spun as he stumbled through the darkness. He didn’t know where he was going or why, all he knew was that he needed to keep moving. Keep moving or be doomed. He couldn’t explain why he felt like this. He shook his head, which only made his dizzier. Dipper slowed his pace and looked up at the stars, providing the only light in the moonless night. They burned like charcoal above him, putting him at ease somehow. He stopped for a moment, only for Ford to appear again. He was trying to speak this time, the only sound coming out of his mouth gurgling. Blood flecked his lips and dribbled down his chin. Dipper screamed again and took off running. Fear took over everything, telling him to run until he couldn’t run anymore. Before he knew it, he found himself on the train tracks, a fog rolling in. Far ahead, he saw a man walking towards him. The man was strange, to be sure. His body looked like it had been assembled by someone who only had a vague idea of what humans were supposed to look like. He was altogether too thin, limbs  too long and spindly, torso like a cardboard tube, hands like two spiders stuck onto the ends of the arms. His smile was too wide, golden eyes too large. One wasn’t even an eye, it was just a gaping socket. He had blond hair slicked back against his head with a battered top hat on top of it. His suit was also golden, but similarly beaten up.

“It’s a nice night for a walk.” The man said as he started to walk past,  his voice high pitched and grating. “Would ya mind if I joined you?”

“Do what you wanna do.”

“Well that’s great ‘cause I’m going to. And not to annoy you but see I really have to ask what a young dude like you’s doin out by the tracks?” He leaned in close with a sickening smile “You waiting on a train?”

“No!” Dipper said quickly, then regretted it. “I mean, let me explain.

“Alright.”

“ I’m minding my own business and you should do the same. I just saw something terrible. You should feel really lucky you missed it.”

The man laughed. “Easy with that tongue, kid. Try to listen carefully. What you’ve seen is scary, but nothing can compare to me. I could show you things that paint all your dreams haunted. I could make you scream if I wanted.” The man’s single eye widened as his smile did, and Dipper could have sworn he saw a flicker of light in the man’s empty eye socket, a threatening aura building. As soon as it appeared though, it vanished and the man threw an arm around Dipper’s shoulder. “Or I can be the bee in your bonnet, your best-friend forever. Two peas in a pod flocking like birds of a feather. And you never have a need to beg work or steal. If all this sounds worth it then let’s make a deal.  All you want in life for price of your soul, all the money you can fold, power that you can hold. I'll put you in control, only if you're down to roll down these train tracks tonight.”

“But where are we going to go?” Dipper found himself asking. “And who are you?”

“Name’s Bill Cipher.” The man stuck out his hand. “And that, kid, is an excellent question.”

.

Sitting on the tracks waiting for the night train

Looking down the road ain't never gonna go back

Listen for the whistle through the wind and raindrop

Who’s gonna ride the devil’s train tonight?

[egodari]

hhhhhh so i decided to do something about that dimension hoppers here we go [Ao3] [Next]

Word Count: 3004

Characters: Fiddleford McGucket, Stanford Pines

Pairings: Fiddauthor/Ford Squared (slow burn)

Notes: hhhhhh what have i done. please be gentle im really trying with this

Stanford and Fiddleford trudge up to the portal, holding the cream coloured crash-test dummy in their arms. The almost blindingly electric-blue light of the portal’s centre spins around, almost hypnotically. It’s probably the most beautiful thing the two young men ever saw, but it was hard for Fiddleford to appreciate their work with the impending feeling of doom that sits restlessly in the bottom of his stomach. He can feel a dangerous vibe that radiates from the spectacular lightshow of the portal, and it makes him dizzy. He envies Stanford, who feels nothing but joy and pride for their work. Excitement buzzes within Stanford’s rather short stature. Finally, he’ll be able to prove to the world that he’s more than just a waste of space on this earth. That he’s more than just a doddering, abnormal hunk of carbon matter. Stanford also feels grateful to be able to share this achievement with Fiddleford. His best and only friend. He’s glad that he decided to show up for testing day, despite last night’s… incident. Despite their occasional bickering, Stanford can’t help but feel a small knot in his stomach every time he’s this close to him. He silently wishes that they were something more… no, that would be weird. Fiddleford wouldn’t… would he? Despite that, Stanford revels in the fact that he and his friend are so close to each other in this present moment. Stanford pulls himself from his thoughts when he sees the do-not-cross line blaring from his feet. The portal’s magnetic field gently tugs on their coats and ties. “Ready?” Stanford affirms sternly, loosening his grip on the dummy. Fiddleford nods silently, letting go of it. Stanford lets the dummy float through the centre of the portal, not noticing the strand of rope wrapped around his ankle until it is too late. Until Stanford himself is dragged along with the dummy. He screams, but his screams are only audible for mere seconds, until his head passes through the electric-blue disc of energy that spins rapidly within the centre of the portal. Haphazardly, Fiddleford clenches the rope that is attached to Stanford, keeping him from passing through entirely. “I’ve got you!” Fiddleford cries, but his words are lost to the whirrs of the portal. Even if he was audible, Stanford wouldn’t be able to hear him.

His head is lost in a flurry kaleidoscope of colours that could give a blind man an eyesore. Impossibly possible shapes and patterns decorate the dark, star-spotted sky that is everywhere. A loud and wholesomely dramatic classical symphony echoes throughout the seemingly infinitely seamless expanse. Asteroids slowly orbit the glowing, amber crown jewel of a photo-sensitive’s worst nightmare. And that crown jewel is Bill Cipher. Stanford’s holy muse, except the truth of Bill Cipher is that he is the bane of all that is holy. Stanford can only, helplessly, watch as Bill’s exoskeleton slowly opens up to reveal the nastiest orifice he has ever seen. An orifice used for the sole purpose to feed on a poor soul’s sanity and being. After feeding, Bill’s exoskeleton closes back up and he returns to his familiar, triangular, yellow form. “SIXEEER, DIDN’T YOU KNOW IT’S RUDE TO ENTER SOMEONE’S HOUSE WITHOUT KNOCKING?” Bill’s screechy voice magnified a million times echoes from everywhere, “BUT, I SHOULD REALLY BE THANKING YOU FOR OPENING THE GATE TO A BETTER WORLD! A WORLD THAT IS GOING TO BE FREE TO PARTY FOR INFINITY!” Stanford’s eyes widen in horror as he realises what he had just done. “You-you lied to me!?” Stanford tries to scream, but his words are muffled by the extremely loud symphony that plays throughout Bill’s realm. His mind is racing, and his vision doubles. What is he going to say to Fiddleford? Suddenly, he can feel the rest of his body join his head in indefinite weightlessness. From the corner of his eye, Stanford can see Fiddleford himself floating near him. The blue disc of light that illuminated a small part of this realm has disappeared. Stanford starts to panic and hyperventilate. However, the same isn’t said for Fiddleford, who is bubbling with an anger that muffles the panic and fear. He has long suspected that Stanford had outside help, and he isn’t pleased to find out that his suspicion is true. Angrily, Fiddleford grabs Stanford’s wrist and quickly swims through the zero-gravity expanse to the nearest large asteroid, not even batting an eye to Stanford. Once the duo makes their way to a cave in an asteroid, Fiddleford harshly shoves Stanford to the ground. “I can’t believe it,” Fiddleford bitterly hisses, turning away from the man dressed in a white shirt, dark grey pants and a tan overcoat. “I can’t fucking believe it!” Kneeling on the dusty and rough ground, Stanford clenches his middle in pain. Maroon red stains the tan sleeve of his long overcoat. Hot, salty tears trickle from the corner of his eyes. Stanford tries to wipe them away with his spare hand, but the tears keep falling from his eyes. Then, the most horrifying thing of January the Eighteenth, 1982, is to see blood drip from Stanford’s right eye and onto his six-fingered hand. He can hear every bitter-soaked and anger-filled word that Fiddleford has to say, accompanied with a barrage of swears. Stanford knows this is a rather tense situation, but he silently begs in his head for his assistant to watch the fucking language. He knows that Fiddleford only swears when he furious and livid, and that is just another package of concentrated guilt on Stanford’s chest, put atop the overwhelming fear and unbearable pain of his sustained injury. He wishes that this is a dream and that he could just wake up, but unfortunately, this isn’t the case. Somewhere, in the back of Stanford’s mind, he knows it to be true. “Fucking turn around and listen to me!” Fiddleford roars angrily, unaware that Stanford is fully conscious of everything he said. However, Stanford obeys and slowly, shakily turns around to face him. His anger melts away and dissipates into nothing when Fiddleford sees the maroon red stain discolouring Stanford’s hand, arm and right eye. He gasps, rather audibly, and covers his mouth with both his hands. Despite his newfound resentment towards him, Fiddleford finds that he still very much cares for his friend’s wellbeing. “I didn’t… know, I was… t-tricked,” Stanford laments, trying his best to stop tears falling from his red (one considerably more red than the other) and puffy eyes, but ultimately, failing. Stanford seldom feels genuinely upset and guilty, and in the back of his head, he’s glad that it’s seldom because it feels so terrible. It’s as if some malicious creature is eating away at him from the inside, from the pit of his stomach, and it only brings him more pain the more he thinks, about his situation, about anything, really. “I—I’m sorry, I’m so s-sorry. I-I’ll try to-to fix this, I’m sorry! P-please… forgive me…” Stanford sobs, constantly stumbling over his own words and frequently being interrupted by his hitched breaths and hiccups. How out of character it is for him to be like this. Dr. Stanford Filbrick Pines, PhD (PhD, PhD, PhD etc.), the prideful, successful and intellectually superior child of Maud and Filbrick Pines, sobbing on his knees and begging for mercy and forgiveness. It’s almost pathetic, really. Fiddleford ponders about what Stanford claims to say. Would a man like him, so gentle and caring and persevering really be plotting to end the world? With a nacho wearing a stupid little bowtie and top hat, at that? He thinks back to the six months they spent together, working on the portal. Every pleasant memory, every time they debated over something stupid, every long night they spent quintriple-checking equations, every event that went south and crashed and burned, and how they were there for each other. He kneels down in front of Stanford and looks him straight into his eyes, and Fiddleford can see, so clearly, the guilt and pain in his cocoa-brown eyes. Fiddleford rests his hands on his shoulders and sighs. This time, he’s in the wrong, “Stanford… I—I’m sorry.” More tears trickle from Stanford, who remains silent, but slightly happier knowing that his friend forgives him. He suddenly lunges forward, despite his injury, and wraps Fiddleford in a tight, desperate hug, crying into his shoulder. “I-I overreacted,” Fiddleford mutters softly, in a feeble attempt to explain his outburst. “No, no,” Stanford replies, muffled from burying his face into his assistant’s shoulder. He gently breaks away from the hug, lifting his head off Fiddleford’s shoulder, “’S okay.” Fiddleford’s electric blue eyes wander down to Stanford’s middle, adorned with a nasty gash soaked in wet blood. He makes quick work of removing his black tie, ignoring Stanford’s befuddled expression. “This should work as a makeshift bandage,” Fiddleford explains, wrapping the long length of fabric around his middle. “As for yer eye…” he scratches the back of his head, “I don’t know what to do about that.” Stanford shakes his head, replying in a soft, but cracked voice, “N-no, don’t worry about it. We should probably find a way out of this place first. Without… y’know, dying.” As much as Fiddleford wants to protest against that suggestion and worry more for Stanford’s eye, he can admit that getting out of Bill’s realm is priority. Quickly, preferably. Fiddleford gets up on his feet and offers a hand to his friend, who takes it without hesitation. From the literal centre of the Nightmare Realm, Bill impatiently scans over the starry expanse of the Nightmare Realm. He knows that Stanford and his assistant are somewhere here, he just doesn’t know where exactly. And that’s exactly why he has henchmaniacs. “SIXER AND HIS PET IDIOT WANNA PLAY HIDE AND SEEK!” Bill shrieks playfully, his voice irritatingly echoing throughout the infinite fabric of the realm. His shrill voice lowers to a dangerously serious tone, “FIRST ONE TO FIND THEM AND BRING THEM TO ME GETS THEIR OWN GALAXY.” Skitter growls and shrill shrieks of monsters and ghouls follow Bill’s statement as his henchmaniacs hurry off to hunt Stanford and Fiddleford down. Bill eagerly watches his minions become smaller and smaller until they’re little dots against the deep, dark blue of the Nightmare realm. He starts to fantasise about what he’ll do to his puppets once he gets his hands on them. Perhaps, kill one of them, and feed on the other’s misery. And it won’t be long before someone will stumble upon that portal, in their basement, and fire is up again. Let it charge, until it’s ready, and finally, Bill will have that whole reality to himself. He fantasises further, imagining how he’ll make that measly hunk of rock, earth and water better, fun. Bill lets himself get so wrapped in his fantasies, he barely notices Fiddleford and Stanford dart past him. Fiddleford glides, swoops and swims gracefully past and through asteroids with ease, Stanford tightly holding his arm, trailing behind him. Every so often, Fiddleford looks back to his friend to make sure he’s okay, which he is, physically, at least. Fiddleford’s mind wanders, as he tries to pinpoint what he’s going to do about their situation. How would they get home? How would they survive long enough to do that? How would they survive at all? These are all questions that blare in his mind, but he doesn’t expect for them to be answered anytime soon. “Fidds!” Stanford’s shriek pulls him out of his thoughts. His eyes dart to where Stanford is pointing, which, in this case, is a large, colour-shifting lard-creature. Its many eyes have little to no white in them, only charcoal-black irises and a thirst for death lies in them. It hones in on the two young men as they start to double back to another asteroid. But Stanford doesn’t move, floating perfectly still, almost… petrified, staring at the insult-to-life as it opens its mouth wide open, its shark-like rows of teeth rearing their ugly heads. “Stanford, what on Earth are you doing!?” Fiddleford sputters, tugging on his hand. There is no response, nothing but the monster’s growls and the loud symphony that continues to play to answer the engineer. Without a second thought, Fiddleford drags Stanford with him through the sea of weightlessness as quickly as he possibly can, not stopping for even a millisecond. He dives into a small crack of a huge asteroid, a crack that leads to a spacy, dark and damp cave that the monster dives right past. Diving into that thin crack had Fiddleford and Stanford landing in a rather awkward position. But Fiddleford quickly dismisses the fact that he’d landed on top of Stanford, more concerned about survival more than anything else. He cups Stanford’s face in his hands and watches as the lime clouds in his eyes slowly dissipate. When he comes to his senses, Stanford starts coughing and sputtering, as if he just resurfaced from being underwater for so long. “Stanford, Stanford, Stanford,” is the only word Fiddleford mutters repeatedly, rather quickly, brushing a hand through Stanford’s brown hair as his coughing subsides. “I-I-I—that… I…y-you?” Stanford babbles lubberly, almost incoherently. He can hear how illegible his own words (if they even qualify as words at all) sound to him, he can’t imagine what they must sound like to Fiddleford. “Shh, slow down, darlin’,” Fiddleford murmurs, gently brushing Stanford’s frazzled hair out of his face. “I-it was like-like the Gremloblin ah-all over again,” Stanford tries to answer again, trying to keep the rate of his speech at a speed that intelligible, but his panic finds a way to reduce his words up to and beyond comprehension. “I-I couldn’t—I couldn’t move! It-it-it-it was t-terrible.” Fiddleford gently pulls Stanford up, and embraces him in some attempt to calm him down, “I’ve got ya, yer safe.” Stanford wraps his arms around Fiddleford in return, murmuring something about not being able to be truly safe ever again. Hushed incoherent sounds reverberate from deeper within the cave, interrupting the shaken duo. However, the sounds didn’t sound menacing. They sounded… scared. “Stanford, let’s check deeper into this cave,” Fiddleford suggests. Stanford nods, deciding against arguing with him. Every time he shunned Fiddleford’s suggestions, it’s always, always gone south. The pair creep deeper into the cave. Fiddleford, not looking where he is walking, trips and tumbles down a short, but steep ledge, pulling Stanford down with him. When they land onto the ground below (with nothing less than a handful of newly formed bruises), they find a shivering group of intergalactic refugees huddled around a strange purple fire, who notice their presence almost instantly. Their leader, a hairy mix between a guinea pig and a pirate, beckons the pair closer to them in a welcoming manner. Fiddleford walks over to the group with trepidation, Stanford trailing close behind him. The creatures took turns in explaining their tale. They explain to Fiddleford and Stanford that they were apparently asteroid miners whose ship was sucked into a dimensional wormhole, and they found themselves lost in the Nightmare Realm like them. A green-scaled, tall and lanky alien with big eyes with almost no white and frills that decorate the top, sides and back of his head with his arm in bandages asks the pair what their story is. Stanford loathes to explain his backstory with Bill, covering his eyes and curling in on himself, leaning against Fiddleford, whimpering. Fiddleford runs his hand through Stanford’s hair as he explains to the asteroid miners that Bill tricked them into building a portal to let him into their dimension. When Fiddleford offhandedly utters the word Bill, the aliens shriek and cover their ears as if he had said something obscene, leaving him confused. The leader of the aliens explains to the pair that Stanford’s, quote-unquote Muse is actually one of the most feared beings throughout the entire Multiverse. They tell him the many legends and theories that circle around Bill Cipher, ranging from how he got his powers to where he came from in the first place. “You see, humies, Bill Cipher took over this place as a hideout for him and his crazy band of cronies, but because rules and physics don’t exist nor apply here, this place is going to either self-destruct or get terminated by an interdimensional superior,” the guinea pig/pirate alien leader reveals to the pair. “That answers why he wanted you to build that portal so badly,” Fiddleford ponders, looking down at Stanford, who is fidgeting with his hands. His eyes remain focused on the magical glittering purple fire. He notices Stanford becoming increasingly more agitated as time passes (on the contrary, time is dead in this dimension). A life-form that looks like a cross between a bug and a gnome feels sceptical towards them, but takes pity on the earth men. The group decides to give Stanford and Fiddleford some rations and a dimension translator. Fiddleford nods as he accepts the donations, incredibly grateful for it. “Is—what’s the chance we-we’d be able to get home?” Stanford asks the group with trepidation. So many pairs of eyes watching him… He feels queasy. “Without a decent Class Four portal device, you’re essentially lost in the multiverse forever,” the green-scaled alien answers without a second thought, “Although, you can jump dimensions through wormholes that pop up suddenly.” The same alien points to the wide opening behind him, leading back outside to the rest of the Nightmare Realm, “Statistics say that a handful’s gonna open up there in a couple of seconds.” Surprisingly, Fiddleford and Stanford didn’t notice that opening before. The two humans bid their goodbyes as they float over the group of wormholes nearby, casting their fates to the wind to discover what new and strange worlds await them. Strange worlds that no being of their species before has ever witnessed. “Those humies won’t last a week,” ζβ02 states to his shivering band of refugee, still grinning from waving them goodbye.