#Bills not strong enough to COMPLETELY take over but Dipper Is Very Much Not Himself

[leo-bandito]

au where Dipper goes back to Gravity Falls in the future and convinces himself that he can be safer and smarter about Bill than Ford was

#Spoiler alert hes wrong. He gets possessed and tries to convince himself it was just a dream. He hasnt been sleeping well. #Its just a bad dream #Hes just being paranoid #........... right? #Bills not strong enough to COMPLETELY take over but Dipper Is Very Much Not Himself #dipper pines #mystery twins #mabel pines #stan pines #bill cipher #gf art #gravity falls #Journal Three #gravity falls au #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls dipper #dipper #mabel #gravity falls mabel #gf au #Gravity falls animatic #Animatic #Animation #storyboard #Pmv #Gf pmv #I have so many thoughts about this please ask me about this

[fallen-gravity]

Aftermath

A whole summer later, and Mabel's still having nightmares about being trapped in her bubble. One unfortunate morning, Ford just happens to be the one who overhears her crying in her sleep.

Notes:

A huge, huge shout out to @ariasofelegance

A little white ago I reblogged a silly post that said something like "come into my inbox and tell me what my writing brand is", and without hesitating she dragged me into the dirt. Got me so on the nose that it backfired and whoops, I wanted to write it.

Said ask can be found here

Hope you’re happy with the results, Rin ;)

AO3

It’s the sound of sugary pop music seemingly wafting in through her bedroom window that wakes Mabel first. She assumes it’s just an alarm she doesn’t remember setting, and frantically waves her arm out for her nightstand so she can turn it off and go back to sleep for another minute or ten.

Then it’s the fact that her hand smacks something that squeaks, and okay, maybe Waddles accidentally left one of his toys in her room. He’s got plenty, so she can shrug off that as long as it’s not his favorite then he can go another few minutes without it. She’ll bring it downstairs to him when she wakes up, or if Dipper rises before her he can bring it downstairs instead.

It’s fine. She can brush those things off, and to prove it to herself she turns over on her other side and brings her blanket up to cover her ears. If anyone needs her they’re gonna have to climb the stairs all the way up to the attic and tell her themselves. She smiles to herself at the thought, and settles easily back into her sleep.

It doesn’t really click that something’s…off until the sun shines in through her window. Despite knowing that she’s facing away from her window, the sunlight still pierces through Mabel’s blanket and lands right into her eyes. Even for the mid-summer Oregon sun she’s gotten accustomed to, it’s uncomfortably warm and unreasonably bright for so early in the morning.

…Stranger still, she’s sure that Dipper would’ve already complained about it before she did, or at the very least, she’s sure she already would’ve heard him shuffling around the room by now.

Mabel takes it to mean that he must already be awake and downstairs, and groans. It still doesn’t explain why the sun is so painful in her eyes, but she guesses that could be a result of her sleeping in later than she’s used to.

“Alright, universe, you got me” Mabel mumbles, and stretches as she finally pushes herself into a sitting position. Opening her eyes is a bit tougher with the sun still harshly shining into them, but it’s manageable, and…

…This doesn’t look like the attic.

She attempts to rub the sleep out of her eyes, in case she’s still not fully awake yet, but no, the image in front of her still doesn’t change. She’s about to try standing up to see if walking around will help snap her out of her haze, but before she can even kick her feet over the edge her bedroom door swings open.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mabel sighs. “Can you close the window? I can’t see a thing”

“Sure thing, Miss Mabel!” a cheery voice that is decidedly not Dipper’s replies, and with a snap of their fingers the lights go out. Now that her eyes finally adjust, Mabel’s able to glance around her room, and…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

There are stone statues of her face in every corner of her room, piles of rainbow plushies stacked all over the floor, a collage of sweaters all over the wall, inflatable furniture scattered everywhere, and most notably, a large rug with a bright shooting star embroidered into the center.

“Miss Mabel?” the strange voice asks again, and a bright pink hippo steps into view towards her bed. “Is everything okay?”

Mabel frantically scoots backwards in her strange bed. “Stay back!” she tries to shout, but everything comes out as more of a panicked waver. “Stay back or I’ll grapple hook you in the face!” she frantically pats all around her body for any sign of her trusty weapon.

The hippo tilts its head in confusion, a squeak emerging from it. “Oh, Miss Mabel, you’re a riot! Don’t you remember?”

Mabel freezes in her frantic patting. “Remember what?”

The strange hippo laughs. “Our volleyball match! You promised you’d play with me, but then you took a suuuper long nap instead!”

Mabel shakes her head. It can’t be. It can’t be. She knows Dipper already came to rescue her, she knows they already took the bus back to Piedmont together, she knows they promised to stick together through thick and thin.

Or…did they? What if that was all part of this sick fantasy too? What if Bill just made her believe that Dipper came to her aid, when he’s actually been captured, or hurt, or worse, and Bill is still pacifying her for as long as he can to keep Weirdmageddon going?

She can’t breathe. She tugs at the collar of her turtleneck, but that only makes things worse, because it’s not until she notices the hot pink of her collar that she realizes she’s wearing her shooting star sweater. She wants to rip it off and claw at it until it comes apart thread by thread.

“M-Miss Mabel?”

She has to get out of here.

“Of course!” she replies, just to avoid suspicion. “Let’s go play some volleyball!” She claps loudly, and the pink hippo grins, seemingly unfazed by her behavior.

“Great!” it beams, and bounces happily out the door. Mabel follows more slowly, casting nervous glances everywhere she looks for any signs of creeping yellow eyes.

“Oh, shoot!” the hippo shouts once they’re outside, and Mabel nearly jumps a mile out of her skin.

“What is it?”

“We don’t have enough players,” the hippo pouts. “I can go see if I can find anyone who-”

“No!” Mabel shouts, and a few beachgoers freeze to cast glances her way. She blushes, and tries again. “I...I mean, we could always get my brother to play with us! Where’s my good ol’ twin brother?”

For the briefest of moments the hippo’s eyes flash yellow, but they’re back to normal just as quickly.

“Over here, sis!” Dippy Fresh waves, approaching them on his skateboard.

Mabel steps back, shaking her head. “Where’s my real twin brother?”

The crowd of beachgoers begins murmuring uncomfortably to each other.

“Aww, c’mon sis, don’t be like that!” he grins, jumping off of his skateboard and taking a step closer.

“You’re not my real brother” she hisses. “None of this is real! I know it isn’t!”

She’s shouting now, but she doesn’t care. “Come out and face me yourself, Bill! I know you’re out there! I don’t want to take part in this sick fantasy anymore!”

Everyone around her gasps, and between one breath and the next she’s painfully tackled to the ground.

“Mabel Pines!” an unfamiliar voice shouts, mixed seamlessly with the shrill echo of Bill’s. “Not only have you broken the one and only law of Mabeland, you have also spoke up in defiance of Bill Cipher, the true creator of this land. A simple court trial will not be enough. For these transgressions, you will be taken straight to the Fearamid for proper punishment”.

Mabel’s face pales. “W-wait! I was only just kidding!” She pleas, but a strong pair of arms is already lifting her into the air. She kicks and thrashes, but no matter how much she fights back, more pairs of hands seem to grab onto her and keep her in place.

“No!” she shouts. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise! I’ll do anything you guys want! I’ll never leave you again!”

“It’s too late!” Bill’s voice finally separates itself from the crowd, and he manifests himself in front of her. He lifts her into the air, and she starts thrashing even harder, but nothing she’s doing is working to free herself from her grip.

At the very back of her mind, she thinks she can hear someone shouting her name. But she’s sure that’s all just part of the illusion, that Bill’s using the sound of her own family against her to torture her one last time before she never sees them again, and-

Something brushes against her forehead.

Something soft, and warm, and comforting, and so humanlike compared to everything else around her that it’s enough to make the every single aspect of the illusion disappear into thin air all at once, even Bill himself.

Everything’s black, and then, with a blink of her eyes, she’s staring into Ford’s eyes, soft and loving and pooling with worry. It doesn’t take long for her to piece together that it’s his hand on her forehead.

“Mabel?” he asks, and she realizes quickly that it had been his voice shouting her name in the bubble.

She gasps, bolting upright, and does her best to recover her breathing. Ford doges out of the way to avoid smacking heads, but stays right where he is beside her, rubbing soothing little circles into her back.

Her throat hurts. She must’ve been shouting in her sleep. She wants to cry, but she can’t even do that right, because  the moment a sob tries to escape her throat her chest feels like it’s closing up, and she can’t take a breath anymore, no matter how much air she inhales.

“It’s okay,” Ford whispers to her. “Deep breaths”

Mabel shakes her head. “I…I can’t”

“Yes you can,” he replies, firmly but kindly. He scooches closer to her, slowly as not to re-startle her. “Mabel, look at me”

She does. His eyes are so soft, conveying so many grounding, human emotions that the single moment of eye contact alone is almost enough to completely ground her back to reality. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, once she’s finally able to maintain eye contact without her eyes trembling. “You’re awake, I promise” he offers his hands out to her. “Reach out and squeeze my hands if you need to, but I promise that I really am right here”

Mabel reaches out and takes his hands in her own. They’re so much bigger than hers, and they’re rough with calluses and there’s quill ink stuck under his nails, but they’re so comfortably the hands of her great uncle, all the way down to the extra sixth finger on each hand that the sob stuck in her throat finally breaks its way through. He’s not just another illusion, he’s not a perfect copy that Bill sent to keep her complacent, he’s just…Grunkle Ford.

Mabel throws herself into his arms as her sobs overwhelm her small body. She buries her face into the collar of his turtleneck, and forces her eyes to focus on a little loose strand sticking out at the back of his neck. It’s just a tiny little imperfect detail that could easily be snipped or sewn back into place, but a little imperfection like that to let her know she’s home is more comforting than she’s willing to admit.

Ford wraps his arms around her and holds her closely. He gently runs a hand through her hair, whispering I know and it’s okay over and over again into her hair, and she just buries her whole face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of coffee and ash and ink coming from his sweater like it’s a lifeline.

She stays in his embrace until her sobs finally calm, and they pull away gently. She wipes at her nose with her wrist.

“I’m sorry”

Ford shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, dear. I know firsthand just how awful it feels to suffer through a panic attack alone”.

Alone?

She glances to the other side of the bedroom, and finds Dipper’s bed empty. Her heart drops to her stomach. “Wh-where’s..?” she starts, but Ford places a gentle hand on her shoulder before she can finish that train of thought.

“Dipper’s okay, he’s outside with Soos”

“Grunkle Stan?”

“He ran out to the store, but he’s okay too”  

Mabel buries her face into her hands. “You didn’t…come in here because you could hear me from downstairs, did you?”

Ford shakes his head, a fond smile itching to spread across his face. “I came upstairs when I’d heard you were still asleep and didn’t want my favorite niece to miss out on such a beautiful morning,” he pauses, the smile on his face vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. “But then when I came in to wake you up, you looked like you were having a panic attack in your sleep, and…” his voice trails off. “You started…crying out names.” He winds a protective arm around her shoulder, and gently squeezes her arm. “I’d never want to make you recount something so awful, but if you want to talk about it, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

Mabel sighs. It isn’t even close to being the first dream she’s had about the bubble, so she should be used to all of these strange feelings by now. But this particular dream felt the most based in reality, and it’s the first time Bill’s actually shown up and threatened to hurt her to her face.

She returns his gesture, winding an arm around Ford’s back and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. She scooches just a tiny bit closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I…” she begins, squeezing her eyes shut to brace herself. “I was trapped in Mabeland again. Except it wasn’t like all the other times I’ve had nightmares about it where I knew something was off and I hit the ground running as soon as I realized where I was, it was more like…I felt like I’d always been there.”

With her free hand, Mabel brings the collar of her sweater all the way up to her nose. Anything to distract her from her uncle’s worried expression burning into her. “It was like everything we did last summer was for nothing. I woke up in my bed in the castle, and everyone was acting like it was peachy keen. I tried asking someone about where Dipper was, just for some sense of normalcy, but all that did was summon that dumb clone Mabeland created of him so I wouldn’t get too lonely. I know it’s dumb, but the whole thing just felt…too real. Like I was still stuck there, and the apocalypse was still going on out here, and the whole rescue mission was just a sick dream that Bill put in my head to trick me into believing everything was okay”

Mabel squishes her face into Ford’s sweater and just forces herself to focus on his scent, on the soft material of his sweater, on the gentle pattern of his breathing. “Everything was ripped away from me, Grunkle Ford, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I tried speaking up for myself, but that only made things worse, because Bill showed up, and he-”

She’s suddenly painfully aware that she’s trembling again, and can’t help the tears building in her eyes. She tries burying her face even further into Ford’s sweater to collect herself and keep going, but before she can she feels Ford’s hand at the back of her head, gently holding her in place as she cries.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, his voice a soothing presence among her racing thoughts. “You don’t have to keep going.” He’s back to gently petting her hair, and the gesture is consistent and familiar enough to ease Mabel’s crying. “I’m so sorry that you’re still having nightmares about this”.

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and finally finds the strength to pull herself away from his sweater. “It’s not your fault”, she says, and her eyes drop to the hardwood floor of her bedroom. “I’m just so scared, Grunkle Ford.” She grips onto the edges of her skirt. “I know that I shouldn’t be, because I know Bill’s been gone for a year and I know everything’s okay now, but I just can’t help but feel that everything’s not.”

Ford nods solemnly, and for a moment he doesn’t respond, until he shifts in his sitting position so he’s facing directly towards Mabel rather than beside her. “Mabel, may I show you something?”

Mabel blinks, her head tilting slightly in confusion. “Sure, Grunkle Ford, what is it?”

Ford rolls the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows. His wrists are covered in faded white slits, and the rest of his arms are covered in burn scars, scratches, gashes, and decades-old bruises that never healed properly. Some of them are still red and blistering, and others look so faded that she could just as easily mistake them for birthmarks.

It hurts Mabel’s heart just to look at them. Her hands hover cautiously over them, and she glances at the wonderful great uncle that they’re attached to. “C-can I…?”

He nods. “Sure.”

Mabel gently runs her fingers along each of them so lightly that it’s almost as if she isn’t touching them at all. She knows that he’d been hurt in the past, and she knows that it couldn’t have been easy roughing it out in the multiverse for thirty consecutive years, but it breaks her heart to see the evidence of it all up close.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ford sighs, cutting into her thoughts. “But most of these don’t come from the portal” he pauses to rub at the back of his head. “Or, rather, they do, but not in the way that you probably think”

Mabel pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…sometime after Bill betrayed my trust, but before I was able to get the metal plate in my head to keep him out, he’d take advantage of our deal that let him into my mind whenever he pleased,” he taps at his forehead. “He was furious that I shut down the portal, so any time I fell asleep he’d use the opportunity to hurt me as much as he could. He never wanted to kill me because he was convinced I’d change my mind in due time, but he felt the need to torture me so I’d never act against him again. He’d slit my wrists, he’d burn me, he’d do just about everything he could to make sure I could feel the repercussions of his actions when I woke up.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “Thankfully he was never able to break a bone before I woke up in time to stop him, but…” he trails off, and for the briefest of moments he looks as though he’s lost in thought.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Ford blushes, snapping himself from his own thoughts before Mabel has any time to ask if he’s okay. “The point is,” he says, “Just because you know he’s gone now doesn’t mean that he never hurt you. Your nightmares are your scars, and they’re just as real as the scars under my sweater.”

Mabel wants to respond with a proper thank you, because she’s genuinely touched by the validation, but there’s a part of her that just can’t move past all the gashes and scars on Ford’s arms. She knows she’s seen similar cuts elsewhere, maybe not nearly as dire, but she knows in the back of her mind that’s just because she was just barely able to stop them from becoming much, much worse.

“I don’t think it’s just the nightmares” she mumbles, just barely loud enough for Ford to hear.

“Hmm?” Ford hums. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Mabel runs two fingers gently around the white scars on Ford’s wrist. “I don’t think it’s just that he hurt me, I think it’s that he hurt a lot of people that I love, too.” She shakes her head. “I know there isn’t a lot I could’ve done to prevent it, but…I was so oblivious to it, Grunkle Ford. I had no idea he was hurting so many people until it was almost too late”.

She keeps rubbing gentle circles into his wrist, like she can make the scars and all of the memories of the pain he went through vanish into thin air with her loving touch alone. “Dipper’s got these scars too. I know he’s okay now, but…” the sigh that escapes her is broken and shaky. “I know that much worse things could’ve happened to him, too”.

Ford frowns. “He…did tell me about being possessed, yes. But he also told me that he couldn’t have gotten his body back without your help. Bill’s a master at trickery, Mabel, it’s not your fault you couldn’t recognize him in Dipper’s body”.

…But she also knows that the reason Dipper was possessed in the first place is because he was up all night trying to crack a code that she told him she’d help him with, and she also knows that if she found out that it wasn’t Dipper controlling his body until it was too late, then…

“He wrote a letter”

The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, tears building in her eyes again.

“Who did?” The soft smile slips off of Ford’s face. “Dipper?”

Mabel shakes her head. “Bill wrote a letter when he was still in possession of Dipper’s body. I’ve never shown it to Dipper before because I didn’t wanna freak him out, but I just…couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, because I was so afraid that if I did, Bill was going to find out, and wait until the moment my back was turned so he could…” her voice trails off, and she can’t finish the sentence no matter how badly she needs to get it off of her chest.

“Mabel?” Ford asks, his voice dripping with worry.

She shakes her head, and hops down from her bed to reach underneath. She grabs a seemingly useless crumped up piece of paper, and carefully unfolds it and pats down all the wrinkles before she offers it to Ford. “Before he could do this,” she replies, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

Ford takes the letter from her, and Mabel takes her seat back on the bed beside him. All she can bring herself to do is just watch as Ford’s expression becomes more and more horrified as he reads further down the letter, and the hurt in his eyes when he looks into hers when he finishes reading is palpable.

“I’m scared, Grunkle Ford” she repeats, her mouth continuing to speak before her brain can stop her. “I know Bill’s gone for good, but how can I be so sure that everything’s okay when I know that this is what he could’ve done to my brother?”

For a few painfully short moments Ford says nothing. Mabel’s sure he’s at a loss of words, or that it was a mistake showing him the letter because he’s freaking out now too, but much to her surprise  Ford’s next move is pulling her into his arms again and hugging her so tightly it’s as if he never wants to let go again.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into her hair, but doesn’t give her enough time to respond before he keeps going. “Mabel, I’m so sorry you’ve been burdened with this. You’re the last person I would ever wish to feel so unsafe that you can’t even trust the quiet moments.”

His breathing sounds broken and shaky, but if he’s tearing up at all he’s doing a really good job at hiding it.  “You don’t deserve any of this. You’re too young to feel like you have any responsibilities over anyone’s life or death. I’m so sorry that he made you feel this way”

She knows he’s not the kind of person to use his words carelessly. She knows that he’s phrasing it this way because he recognizes his own behavior in her. She doesn’t respond verbally, but she reciprocates the hug best she can, and a heavy sigh escapes Ford when she does. They stay there in silence for a few short minutes, just reveling in the comfort and safety of the other’s arms.

When they finally pull away, Ford seems to have gathered his composure again.

“I promise, Mabel” he takes one of her hands into his own. “I promise you that he’s gone. He can never hurt you or me or Dipper or Stan ever again. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t, and it doesn’t mean that recovering from that sort of pain will be easy, but if there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that he’s never showing his face here again”.

Mabel finally crumbles in his arms. She’s sobbing again, but it’s a cathartic kind of sob, and she’s gripping onto Ford’s shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping her together.

“And even if he does, I know just the grappling hook to scare him away”.

Between her sobs, Mabel can’t help but giggle.

#my writing #gravity falls #ford pines #mabel pines #sweater twins #mystery twins

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - How A Star Is Born ch.X

Hercules AU, founded by @evaroze, whom this fic is a gift for. I hope y’all like it!

ch.IX

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

Mabel, though a bit salty that her uncle would send her away from battle, quickly saw the chaos raining down on Earth and formed her own plan: find dipper and work together to save the world. Simple enough. So she used Gompers the giant goat to gallop across the valley and through the woods to Thebes, where a big goblin was smashing buildings and weirdness was torturing the Greek city, creating an apocalyptic atmosphere.

Mabel remembered where her brother’s house was and heard an old man yell as Gompers approached. She stopped the giant goat and gasped at who was at the entrance. In armor and a red cape, someone who looked a lot like her Grunkle Ford was staring at her with brown eyes that matched her own.

Stan smiled nervously and stepped forward. “Hi… Mabel, ri-...”

“GRUNKLE STAN!” Mabel cheered with tears streaming down her face and she jumped down into his arms, knocking him to the ground, but Stan just laughed and hugged his newfound niece. “I can’t believe it! I get to meet you! Hi! I’m Mabel! Hi!”

“Well, hey there, pumpkin.” Stan greeted as he hugged her and petted her long brown hair. “Grunkle, huh? I love it! Alright, lemme look at you.” He gently held her by the shoulders and grinned at the blushing muse. She glowed golden, her skin a slightly bright hue than his thanks to being immortal. “Holy Hera, you’re beautiful. You look like Ma, bless her soul. Wow… just, wow.”

Mabel brought him into another hug and whispered, “Thanks. I… I never thought I’d get to see you.”

“Mabel?” Dipper said weakly as he leaned against the doorway.

Mabel and Stan gave him their full attention, still completely ignoring the devastation taking place around them, and Mabel cried freely as she looked at her twin. “DIPPER!” She got off her knees and ran to him. He graced himself for impact, but was happily brought into a tight hug that lifted him off his feet. Clearly she had some god-like strength, too.

“Mabel… it’s great to see you…”

“I missed you, I missed you, I MISSED YOU!” Mabel yelled happily and sat him on his feet. She looked back at her great-uncle, who was on his feet and joining the niblings, and she reached out a hand for him and held Dipper’s hand. “Look at this! We’re a family again! So… how do you like each other?” She asked excitedly.

Dipper shrugged. “Fine.”

Stan chuckled nervously and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re not still… mad about me not telling you, are you?”

“Wait… oh.” Mabel said and let her boys go and took a step back to let them talk.

“I’m just…” Dipper gritted his teeth and rubbed his forehead, his head grazing over his birthmark that looked like a kitchen dipper. “I don’t understand. Why? Why didn’t you ever tell me? Were you… Are you really that ashamed to be family?”

“No.” Stan quickly said. “No, Dipper, I… I’m proud to be your family. I am so proud of you, hero or no hero. I… I just didn’t know how to tell you. I almost did when we first met, when this scrawny but strong and smart twelve-year-old came to my doorstep, desperate to become a hero only so he could have a family again, but… I decided you were better off not knowing. You were already dealing with so much, knowing you had an uncle who was a total failure didn’t need to be one of them. 

“I’m sorry.” The old trainer of heroes said woefully. “I wish I had told you. I wish I had been more honest with you. But… kid, it doesn’t matter if I’m your uncle or not. Nothing’s changed. Not really. I’m still so proud of you and I’m still gonna do everything I can to make sure you two aren’t ever separated ever again.” Stan swore, pointing at Dipper and Mabel. “Even if it happens tomorrow or thirty years from now, I swear it’ll happen. But no matter what, you’ll always have a family, Dipper. We’ll always be a family, god or no gods, blood or no blood.”

Dipper let this soak in, then sighed and swayed a little. Really, if it wasn’t for everything going on, the big reveal probably wouldn’t have been as devastating, it was just a lot at once. “Yeah… Yeah, we will…”

Mabel’s smile dropped at seeing how pale and sickly he looked, and she rubbed his shoulders and was much more gentle with him. “Whoa, hey, what’s wrong?”

“He traded his strength away to that Bill guy.” Stan informed.

Mabel turned to look at the big goblin tearing up the city. “I’m guessing that’s why.” The young muse cracked her knuckles and grinned excitedly. “And here I thought I was gonna miss a fight! Stan, you look after Dipper, I’ll handle Ugly.” And she ran down the street for the monster.

“Mabel, no!” Dipper called after her, stepping towards her, but he tripped over his feet and Stan had to catch him.

“Easy, kid, easy. Your sis can handle this.” Stan reassured. “Check it.”

Mabel ran past people who were trying to get out of Eight Ball’s way. She slid to a stop at the town’s circle and whistled loudly. Eight Ball looked down and laughed. “A little girl?! Aw, what, are you gonna dance for me?”

Mabel growled and sneered a sly smile. “If it’ll make you happy… let’s dance!” And she pulled out her duel sword from either hip and plunged them into a green foot that was almost as big as her.

Eight Ball yelled and kicked up, sending Mabel up in the air. The goblin quickly swatted her and she was thrown against a stone wall and slid down painfully, but she staggeringly got up and resumed the fight.

“Ouch! That’s it, pumpkin, shake it off!” Stan coached.

Dipper pulled himself away from Stan and moaned, “I gotta help her…”

“Kid, you’ll die without your strength.” Stan said firmly and made Dipper sit down on a step of their home. “Just breathe and rest, okay? You’ll get your strength back in twenty-three hours.”

Dipper held his head. While so weak and in pain, it was hard for him to think. His mind was so stuffed and so full but so low on energy that he was driving himself insane, but those words created a clear path of thinking, and he shot up as an idea came to mind. “Or if you’re hurt.”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah.”

“The deal’ll break if you’re hurt.” Dipper explained and looked around. He saw Pacifica guiding children into a house where they would be safe, and he whistled. “Paz! C’mere!”

The blonde woman looked ashamed, but did as she was told. She slowly approached the scowling old man and the weak young man as she nervously played with her hair. “Listen, I…”

“No, you listen. You owe us a favor.” Dipper panted, weak from the effort of whistling.

“Uh, okay.” Pacifica agreed.

“Punch him.” Dipper said, jabbing a thumb at Stan.

“Me?”

“Him?”

“Him.”

Pacifica shrugged. “Okay.” And she gave him a sharp left hook.

“GAH!” Stan held his cheek and rubbed. “Woman! That hurt!”

“Good!” Dipper laughed, his color instantly returning and his stance getting stronger, grinning with pride over his own cleverness. “You got hurt! The deal’s off!”

“YES!” Stan cheered and punched his shoulder, having no effect on the young hero with god-like strength. “That’s my little conman! NOW GO BEAT UP THAT GUY WITH YOU SISTER!”

Dipper nodded and ran off into battle. 

Mabel was doing a very good job of fighting off the monster, but the fight was at a stand-still. At one point the muse was in the clutches of Eight Ball, both hands trapping her as she squirmed and pulled. “I’m gonna bite your head off!” He roared.

“LEAVE MY SISTER ALONE!” Dipper demanded, grabbing a lit torch, jumping off a tall building, and smacking Eight Ball in one of his weird eyes with the fire.

“GAH!” The monster dropped Mabel, who recovered by doing a flip and landed perfectly with a bend of her knee. Dipper jumped down beside her and they both smiled proudly at each other, only allowed a moment before eight Ball had recovered and roared, but one sly glance at each other and the fallen god and the young muse were ready to do battle.

They pounced on the goblin, Dipper throwing punches and Mabel using her duel swords, and they fell behind a large mountain with the beast. Stan and Pacifica gasp, the battle out of sight, and three voices yelled when large rocks from the side of the mountain fell. The audience ran closer, but stopped as they heard rustling. Preparing for the worst but praying for the best, Dipper and Mabel slowly emerged, a bit dirty but healthy nonetheless.

Stan hollered with joy as his chest swelled with pride while Pacifica clapped politely. “THAT’S MY KIDS! Alright, alright! I’m so proud of you guys!”

Dipper and Mabel grinned, but the brother looked up at the dark clouds seriously. “Bill’s still out there…”

“OH NO!” Mabel smacked her forehead. “I almost forgot! More monsters were attacking Olympus! Grunkle Ford needs our help!”

“You two go help Sixer.” Stan said and jabbed a thumb at the broken city. “I better help these guys out, tell the press what’s going on, the usual stuff.”

“You sure?” Mabel asked. “We could use your help.”

“Nah, you don’t need me.” Stan chuckled. “You both just took on a monster with your bare hands like it was nothing! Now go save the world!”

Mabel and Dipper grinned, excited to kick that demon back where he belongs, and the muse whistled for Gompers. As soon as he arrived they got up on him and galloped for the home of the gods, ready for Round 2.

~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s our status?!” Ford asked his best friend.

“Everyone’s bein’ turned t’stone!” Fiddleford yelled as an eyebat shined a beam down at him. “Even me!”

“NO!” Ford threw his last bolt at the eyebat, but it swerved out of the way and scooped up Fiddleford’s frozen body.

Ford looked left and right, waiting for an idea to come to him, but he was too clouded with anxiety and worry that he failed to notice the huge, now three-dimensional demon behind him. “Fordsie, I’m home.” A shrill voice sang.

“Bill?” Ford breathed, his eyes narrowing in anger and he shook with rage. He should have listened to Mabel and knew he was behind this. He growled like an angry bulldog and tried to throw a punch, but with a lift of a finger Bill had total control over Ford’s body and made him float lifelessly in front of him.

“Well well, looks like you truly are as dumb as you look. Tell me, did you really think such a powerful being would ever be friends with a six-fingered monster?” Bill laughed evilly and moved two arms close, creating lava and ice to work together to encase Ford in a stony prison. “This dimension is mine, Sixer, and it’s all thanks to you.” He said as Ford climbed and crawled to try to escape, but was steadily being encased, like quicksand. “Now all I need to do is make sure those brats stay out of my way.”

“NO! NO!” Ford screamed. “NOT MY KIDS, YOU CA-…” And he was completely covered.

“I’m the one giving orders now, Freak.” Bill sneered and sat in his new throne the eyebats had made for him, made entirely out of gods and goddesses. “And I think I’m gonna like it here.”

“Don’t get too comfortable, Bill!” A voice yelled and Bill turned red and left his throne to see behind him.

Bursting on top of the mountain, Gompers carried Dipper and Mabel, who hopped down and scowled up at the mean triangle.

“WHAAAAAAAAAT?!?! No, no no NO!” Bill roared. “Eight Ball had ONE job to do! UGH! Henchmaniacs, TAKE THEM OUT!”

The twins nodded at each other, agreeing to the plan, and Mabel gave Dipper some cover by hopping over the monsters and attacking the eyebats, stabbing them like they were meatballs. Dipper quickly hurried to the throne made of stoned gods, and used his god-like intelligence to know which god to pull loose.

After a quick analysis, Dipper gently pulled out a dark-skinned goddess with a red dress, the goddess of summer and romance, one by one all of the victims were unfrozen and the throne fell apart. Freed and ready for battle, gods pulled out their weapons and helped Mabel attack the monsters now that all of the eyebats were dead.

“YA HOO!” Fiddleford hollered and smacked little Teeth with a banjo. “Thanks, Mason!”

Dipper grinned and quickly climbed over the large pile of rock. At the top, he tore the prison apart and freed Grunkle Ford. The men had a moment much like Stan and Mabel had, simply looking at each other, until Ford blinked his eyes dry and put a six-fingered hand on each of dipper’s shoulders. “Thank you, my boy.”

Dipper felt like throwing up, but in a good way. He and Ford looked down at the glorious battle of gods defeating the monsters, and they quickly joined in.

One by one as monsters were defeated, Dipper used his super strength to pull them behind them, gathering unconscious, sagging bodies until he and Mabel were at the entrance of Olympus with their gain. Mabel swiped the Golden Rope of Truth from the goddess of summer and romance and the twins worked together to tie up the minions in a heap, and Mabel held them still while Dipper kicked so powerfully they flew all the way to the ocean and down through the little hole in space-time, which sealed instantly.

Mabel pounced on her brother, who scooped her up and hugged her tightly as everyone cheered over their victory. Ford was by their side, ruffling their hair and smiling with brown eyes full of love. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Dipper could feel all his dreams coming true, but a shrill voice rang through the dark clouds as a golden triangle fled. “Thanks a ton, freaks! But at least I got one swell consolation prize! A friend of yours, who’s dying to see me!”

The three gasp over fear of losing their missing family member forever. “STAN!”

#GF #gravity falls au #fanfiction #stangst #gift

[bagels-and-seagulls]

does badboy Matteo paint his nails? (for some reason I’ve been imagining him with black nails every time I read your hcs)

i’ve been thinking about this for a while, just like his appearance in general beyond the nails thing, and i have some ideas but i feel like it’s split between bb!matteo with bb!david and bb! with hj!david. so here are both!

bad boy matteo and bad boy david

-matteo once had an occasional client that was a piercing apprentice at a tattoo shop that couldn’t always front the bill for adderall pills that matteo sold her for half the price of her doctor’s office, so sometimes she would front the bill by offering a piercing and a drink to matteo with a smile that said she knew she was pushing her luck. matteo ends up getting an orbital piercing when he’s just a little bit drunk, two helixes in his other ear when he’s cross-faded, and the left side of his nose pierced when he’s black out. he wakes up the next morning each time with a piece of paper neatly folded into his pocket of the jacket he’s still wearing about how to take care of each one of them, and he keeps up with it fairly well, all things considered. he puts a silver hoop in his nose, and hans is the only that says anything about it, calls it cute and pinches his cheek like he was a baby. 

-the boys, after their first year at university, feeling a little bit nostalgic and a little bit melancholic for something that they couldn’t quite put their fingers on, all decide to get matching tattoos with a sudden burst of confidence and boldness. then they figure out how much good tattoos actually cost and end up looking up how to do stick and poke tattoos while in the bathroom of hanna’s new apartment after smoking a bowl like they were still all seventeen and knew what they were doing. they end up as garbled messes that no one can really make sense of, and no one agrees on what they’re supposed to be. jonas says it was a blunt, because that’s how they all became friends, and carlos always buts in to say that it was a beer bottle. abdi is confident that what he drew was a lion’s head, and that just confuses everyone, because why would they decide to get a lion’s head together? and matteo, well, he was really along for the ride anyways. now he just has a black mess on the the soft spot of his ankle that has a semi-funny story to go along with it. 

-hans would cut matteo’s hair for him for the low price of one dinner hand-made by matteo himself, and it’s nice because keeping up with an undercut takes a diligence that matteo did not realize the first time he let some girl shave the back of his head at some party ages ago. after a while, hans gets crafty with it and can cut little designs into it made with geometric lines.

-one day, matteo and david are in bed, and david is running his fingers through david’s hair. it’s getting long back here, david says, not meaning anything by it really, just wanting to say something because the way matteo was looking at him like he was something to be admired and hung up in a museum was making him a little overwhelmed. and matteo purses his lips up, like he has something to say but thinks better of it at the last second. what? david asks, with his interest peaked. you wanna do it? matteo asks, and david agrees easily enough because it can’t be that hard. 

-having matteo sit on the floor in the bathroom in front of him while he cards his fingers over his scalp to brush off tuffs of hair feels like a religious experience every time.

-david learns that hans can do designs with the razor and makes it a personal mission to be better at it for some reason. matteo doesn’t really care, doesn’t see the point of the effort when it’s just going to grow out in a couple weeks anyways, but he likes the way that david’s fingers feel gentle around his ears and on his neck. so he sits quietly for as long as david wants him to. 

-matteo colors his nails in with markers and pens and sometimes pencils when he’s in class because the teacher drones on sometimes, and drawing tiny little trees on his thumbnail seems far more exciting at the moment. one day when he’s at david’s apartment, poking around the living room while david is on the phone with laura, talking about what they had in the fridge for groceries, matteo finds a bottle of black nail polish that matteo picks up to spin around in his hands, and the urge to open it and use it on his thumbnail is so strong, that he ends up doing it without even realizing. are you going to do the rest of them? david asks from the doorway, and matteo looks up like he just got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. sorry, he says and goes to put it down because he always had a problem with touching things that weren’t his. no, no, it’s okay, david says quickly. you can do the rest if you want. laura won’t mind. i probably use the black more than she does. and matteo stares down at the bottle and then looks up to david and sees that he’s serious, that he doesn’t care if matteo wants to do this or not. i don’t think i would be very good at it, matteo says, and david smiles and walks in the room and says, i can help. 

-matteo starts painting his nails off and on, without any conviction either way. he does it when he thinks about it and the option is there, and let’s it peel off and flake away completely before he does it again. david buys him his own bottle of jet black and puts it on his desk without him even noticing. 

bad boy matteo + hot jock david

-matteo has unruly and floppy hair that mia cuts for him once a month when he remembers to ask her. she doesn’t do anything too special, and he doesn’t ask for anything more complicated than off his neck and shorter around his ears. she always smiles at him when she’s done and ruffles his hair to get the last couple of strands out, and he smiles back and tells her that he’ll buy her a round the next time they’re out together.

-it’s getting kind of long, isn’t it? david asks one night when matteo is over, and he’s tried to push his hair out of his face at least six times since he started doing his homework. david tugs on one of the strands that fell in between matteo’s eyes, and matteo bats him away. mia’s been busy. i didn’t want to bother her, he says and goes back to his book, pushing the hair back like it’s muscle memory. i could ask laura if you want. she cuts some of her friends’ hair sometimes, david hums, and cards his fingers through the the hair at the back of matteo’s neck. i don’t want to bother, matteo says again, and david says that it’s nonsense and rolls out of bed right then to go and see what laura is doing. matteo trails after him and says that it isn’t a big deal, but his whispers are stopped short when they’re standing in front of laura on the couch, scrolling through her phone. would you mind cutting teo’s hair? david asks, and tugs on matteo’s arm until he’s standing in front of him, his hands on his matteo’s hips to keep him standing right there. laura doesn’t even stop looking at her phone when she answers, sure, right now? and matteo ends up sitting on a stool in the middle of their bathroom with laura cutting his hair with a pair of scissors that look like it was actually made to do that. and she’s chatting with david casually where he’s sitting on the counter, and matteo is just sitting between them, caught up with nerves about something he can’t quite place, feeling a little like he was going to throw up and gripping onto david’s ankle, trying not to move at all. 

-laura ends up cutting matteo’s hair once a month in a way that makes him look like he actually takes care of his it, and matteo doesn’t know how to repay her, offers to buy her dinner or something each time. and she always laughs a little bit at him and says that his company is payment enough, that she enjoys the little moment they get together. but matteo still always brings over her favorite type of cookies the next time he’s over anyways. 

-matteo has the right side of his nose pierced and a frontal helix on his left ear. david asks when he got them at one point, and matteo says that he doesn’t remember, that he went out one night, trying to sell some joints, and came back home later with a text from a number he didn’t recognize and two piercings that he only noticed because they hurt the next day still. he texts the number asking if they knew anything about the piercings, and never gets a response. he looks up how to take care of piercings online and ends up putting a silver stud in his nose. 

-matteo has two tattoos. one is a stick and poke on the inside of the his right ring finger that’s supposed to be the two dipper constellations together, but it’s so light, that it kind of just looks like a series of freckles. it takes david about a month of them hanging out for him to even notice it. he was playing with matteo’s fingers when they were sitting out on a balcony somewhere together and ran his finger over the dots, just to have matteo laugh and tell him it tickled. the other tattoo is a crescent moon on his left thumb. he gets that one done legit, from the same girl who does the stick and poke. she does it for a couple of euros for letting him practice on him unofficially when she was trying to get the gig she has now, and he tells her to call him when she gets a little bit better because he might have some ideas in the works. 

-matteo ends up walking in on david hanging out with sara and leonie at his apartment. he apologizes in the doorway and says that he must have gotten the time wrong, that he can come back later if they want. and they all tell him that it’s fine, and he should join them. david pulls him onto the living room floor to sit up close to him before he goes back to painting sara’s fingesr a bright blue while leonie is doing hers a deep red. did you want to join? leonie asks when she sees the way that matteo is eyeing her drying fingers. no, it’s alright, matteo says and shakes his head. you sure? leonie asks. it’ll be cute. you could do a blue or a red, and i think it would look really good with your skin tone. oh, maybe a green, she says and starts holding up some bottles near matteo’s hand, and he eventually agrees to let her try because she just seems so enthusiastic about it all of a sudden. and matteo hasn’t been able to get a read on if david’s friends liked him or not, even though he so desperately wants them to like him. david curls in close once he’s done with sara’s hands and wraps his arms around matteo’s stomach, who’s trying not to knock leonie’s work. he kisses matteo’s shoulder and murmurs, that’s a good color, into the fabric of his sweater. 

-leonie ends up painting matteo’s nails every time he ends up interrupting their little hang out, and matteo gets a little bit sad every time they end up chipping off within a week, not that he tells anyone that, not that david didn’t notice anyways. 

-i can get you some, if you want, david says to him one day with his hands on his face and his lips on his forehead. i’ll get you every color in the rainbow. you can paint them a different color every day if you wanted to. a different color for each finger, even. and matteo just shoves his face into david’s chest, feeling found out for some reason, and just goes, yeah, okay. 

#the other one is under the cut #this got a little obnoxiously long #who knew that this sitting in my box for like a month would result in this #bad boy matteo #bad boy matteo and hot jock david #davenzi #my writing

[dustedmagazine]

Dust Volume 5, Number 5

PUP

Home fi, gnawa-pop fusion, mariachi cowpunk, classically minded jazz, shout-y punk-pop and finger picked acoustic blues—as appropriate for spring, Dust lets a thousand flowers bloom.This edition of short, mostly positive reviews, draws contributions from Isaac Olson, Bill Meyer, Jennifer Kelly and Justin Cober-Lake. We hope you find something to blast from open windows on the first warm, sunny opportunity.  

Ahmed Ag Kaedy — Akaline Kidal (Sahel Sounds)

Akaline Kidal by Ahmed Ag Kaedy

This acoustic, solo release by Malian guitarist in exile Ahmed Ag Kaedy is a beaut. Like a lot of so-called desert blues, this is only chill out music until you read the lyrics, for example, “The Tuareg people must know/you can consider France an enemy/no better than Algeria who stands in our path.” Even if militant nationalism, no matter who’s calling for it, isn’t your thing, Ahmed Ag Kaedy’s weathered, throaty voice and plangent, monophonic guitar flights which are as evocative, bitter, and seemingly ephemeral as campfire smoke, make Akaline Kidal well worth hearing. And like campfire smoke, they’ll stick with you well into the next day.  

Isaac Olson

  Astralingua — Safe Passage (Midnight Lamp)

Safe Passage by Astralingua

Quietly, precisely odd, this elaborately instrumented, baroquely arranged folk experiment shrouds whispery threads of poetry in eerie landscapes of stringed instruments, pennywhistles and gently massed harmony. The music, mostly the work of composer Joseph Andrew Thompson but aided by singer Anne Rose Thompson, runs much in line with goth folk outfits like Gravenhurst and Boduf Songs, in the way that dread seeps up from the floorboards and beauty has a spectral, semi-transparent air; you could make a case for an Elliott Smith singing in front of Clogs comparison in a couple of the songs. Yet the music faces forward, not back into misty folklorics. “Space Blues” takes a turn towards proggy Pink Floyd-ish visions of interstellar travel on “Space Blues” and while “Poison Tree” heads off into to tremulous orchestral confessionalism, a la Sufjan Stevens. It is all very pretty and a little disturbing.

Jennifer Kelly

 Kaja Draksler / Petter Eldh / Christian Lillinger—Punkt.Vrt.Plastik (Intakt)

Punkt.Vrt.Plastik by Kaja Draksler, Petter Eldh, Christian Lillinger

This pan-Euopean combo rethinks one of the most cobweb-festooned configurations in jazz. To overcome the piano trio’s over-familiarity, they combine idiosyncratic personal techniques with a disciplined collective approach. Swedish bassist Petter Eldh and German drummer Christian Lillinger have forged their concord in a couple other groups; the former is assertively melodic and big-toned, the latter quick and ubiquitous. With so much happening in the engine room, they need a partner who values balance, and they have found one in Slovenian pianist Kaja Draksler. Her playing is fleet and articulate, and her ideas feel complete in themselves, but they also leave ample space between the root notes for her partners to exercise their formidable muscles without banging into any harmonic walls.

Bill Meyer

 Maxine Funke — Home Fi (Feeding Tube)

home fi by maxine funke

Keep your lo fi, hi fi, and wifi; Home Fi is where it’s at. Really, how come no one characterized their music thusly before? Maxine Funke’s songs flesh out the conceit with lyrical details that relate not just home life, but a state of at-homeness on the grounds around the house. “February” doles out images of late summer foliage (Funke lives in New Zealand) and foraged taste treats; “Waving the Tea Rose” finds spiritual riches in the neighbors’ trash. Funke’s accompanies her slightly sleepy croon with spare finger-picking, captured up close enough that you can hear a chair creak while a strategically dissonant organ or fiddle pipes up in the background. This record, which was originally sold as a tape on an Australian tour, lasts just 22 minutes, but it feels as complete as an afternoon nap.

Bill Meyer

  Houssam Gania — Mosawi Swiri (Hive Mind Records)

Mosawi Swiri by Houssam Gania

Houssam Gania, son of guimbri master Maalem Mahmoud Gania, opens Mosawi Swiri, his debut, with an act of cheerful patricidal aggression. Rather than launching into the traditional Gnawa music — solid and sparse as a mudbrick house, deep and dark as a well and groovy as ripples in a dune — that his father mastered, Gania’s traditional guimbri and qraqabs are joined on the first track, “Moulay Lhacham,” by a guitar/drums/keys band that sounds not unlike Brent Mydland-era Dead. It’s sunshiny, a little corny and perfectly delightful. Ok, ok, so Gania Sr. was no purist himself, having collaborated with, among others, Pharoah Sanders and Peter Brotzmann, but Gania Jr’s opening gambit is pure pop delight. Luckily for armchair ethnographers everywhere, the rest of Mosawi Swiri sticks to traditional Gnawa music, which in Gania’s capable hands, really is as hypnotic and potentially curative as both locals and marshmallow-eared world music fans claim. That first track is a hoot though, and while I’m not sure Gania could sustain a whole album of gnawa-pop fusion, I’d love to see him try.

Isaac Olson

 A.F. Jones — Bourdon du Kinzie (Unfathomless)

Bourdon du Kinzie by A.F. Jones

Sound ecologist, submarine acoustician, mastering engineer, musician; if it manifests within the ears, A.F. Jones is tuned into it. This CD echoes an order that David Thomas, a man who has never been shy about telling other people what to do, once barked. “Insist on more than the truth.” This album began with a field recording expedition to a disused bunker in Port Washington, WA. The space is simultaneously absorbent and reverberant, luring external sounds into its cavernous interior and transforming them with its long decay times. You could probably get some cool sounds by simply stamping your foot or dropping the change in your pockets and hearing what the space does to it. But sound collection is just the first step for Jones. He’s used audio analysis software to isolate and enhance the space’s dominant tones, and then further seasoned the reduction with dancing sine tones. The result is a sort of sonic centrifuge in which essences are extracted so that some sounds become more ephemeral and others more vivid. Give it a spin.  

Bill Meyer  

 Patio—Essentials (Fire Talk)

Essentials by Patio

All clanks and spikes and spatter, this Brooklyn-based trio constructs a jag-edged punk with lots of space. It jangles like a bag of rusty nails. The vocals—sung sometimes by bassist Loren DiBlasi and other times by Lindsey-Paige McCloy, the guitarist (but not by Alice Suh, the drummer) —are a soothing counterpoint, unless you listen to the words, which are sharp despite the cool, distanced delivery. The band mixes late-1980s post-punk jitter with intriguing intervals of chanted poetry and pop self-revelation. “Open,” the longest cut, threads an antic, literate narrative atop a bassline so crackling with electricity that you could get a shock. “Boy Scout,” the single, bounds ahead then collapses in a heap, surges and stops in sudden uncertainty. The music exactly mirrors the confusing, conflicting emotions sketched in lyrics like, “Never have the chance to choose, naturally I always lose, I went shopping the other day, this week I can afford to feel better.” Patio makes inward-facing music that jerks and spasms in an approximation of hedonism, but maintains its quiet, difficult core.

Jennifer Kelly

  PUP — Morbid Stuff (Little Dipper/Rise/BMG)

Morbid Stuff by PUP

It’s been a minute since shout-along punk rattled cages like this second outing from Toronto’s PUP. Here in 11 teeth-rattling blasts, the band radiates bratty intelligence and dashed hopes, amid slamming guitars and kit battering drums. The tension between nerdy, needy erudition and beer bro riffs is palpable. When singer Stefan Babcock confesses, “Just like the kids/I've been navigating my way through the mind-numbing reality of a godless existence/Which, at this point in my hollow and vapid life, has erased what little ambition I've got left,” at the beginning of the single “Kids” you kind of expect the guy to get beat up by his own song. Obvious references include the Hold Steady, Green Day, Japandroids, that is, pretty much any punk that smart kids can memorize and dumb kids can punch the air to without really understanding. The trick is to stomp with triumphant, hobnail-studded aggression all over the relentlessly depressing lyrical content. Pretty soon, we are all singing along that, “Just because you’re sad, doesn’t make you special.”

Jennifer Kelly

 Joshua Redman Quartet — Come What May (Nonesuch)

Saxophonist Joshua Redman has been one of the defining voices of mainstream jazz for a quarter century, his clear tone and lyrical sensibilities a steady source of pleasure in various configurations. For Come What May, Redman reassembles his quartet from the early 2000s (pianist Aaron Goldberg, bassist Reuben Rogers and drummer Gregory Hutchinson) for seven original compositions. The group stays locked in across a variety of sounds, with Goldberg particularly getting some time to shine. Bookending the album with meditative numbers “Circle of Life” and “Vast” makes for a nice closed structure to the disc, letting the livelier numbers pulse and swing. On “DGAF” the musicians' comfort with each other allows Hutchinson to guide a jerky momentum, one that works best when he reclaims it near the end of the song.

The ensemble doesn't push any obvious boundaries here, despite a few demanding interactions. Redman and his group are locked into standard sounds, with the challenge simply being how well they can do it. Not surprisingly, they're quite good at it, and the fact that Redman's conversations sound so easy shouldn't distract from the high level of play here. The quartet sticks to its tradition with clear sound, strong melodies and smart interplay, playing to its strengths for another expressive release.

Justin Cober-Lake

 Vandoliers—Forever (Bloodshot)

Forever by Vandoliers

Vandoliers, out of Dallas, make punk rock with country fiddles, hoarse-voiced stomp-alongs with Mexicali flourishes of trumpet. “Sixteen Years,” which commemorates how long these urban cowboys have been on the job, sports bruise-y r ‘n r defiance, with its chugging beat, its cigarette-and-whiskey-vocals, but leavens the mix with brash folkloric bursts of brass. A rougher “Troublemaker” amps up the one-two shuffle and slides the cow-punk meter over towards the punk side, while contemplative “Cigarettes in the Rain,” smoulders and smokes much like its subject matter, but with a noticeable twang. Forever reminds you that the Rolling Stones were, on occasion, a country band, and the Replacements once made songs like “Waitress in the Sky.” The line is permeable, the fence has a nice place to sit on, and the Vandoliers are neither punk nor country but both.

Jennifer Kelly

 Eli Winter — Time to Come (Blue Hole Recordings)

The Time To Come by Eli Winter

With The Time to Come, college student Eli Winter makes his entry into the solo guitar scene. Winter cites Jack Rose as a prominent influence, but he doesn't have the thickness or the pulse of Rose's sound. His sensibility, especially when playing acoustic, lies closer to Glenn Jones in his creation of atmosphere, brightness and storytelling. “Sunrise Over the Flood” starts with a simple, pretty pattern before turning dark, an evocative moment of lightness used to reveal something heavy. On the poppier side, “Oranges and Holly” builds around a riff close to the intro from “Here Comes the Sun,” but it never quite distinguishes itself. The title track unfurls over 15 minutes, Winter's structured thought allowing for linear but engaging progression. Winter's debut makes the case that we should be paying attention to him; he certainly has things to say and has the right vehicle for his expression. At the same time, it feels like a debut. Winter's restraint keeps everything in its right place, but it would be nice to see him challenge himself technically. Taking a few more risks would help him find his own niche the field, a spot he's likely to earn with a little more seasoning, given his smart songcraft and thoughtful aesthetics.  

Justin Cober-Lake

 Michael Zerang—THE SHUDDERING CHERUB (Pink Palace Records)

THE SHUDDERING CHERUB - for solo piano with vibrating elements by Michael Zerang

If you’re wondering how Chicago’s improvised music company made the march from the AACM’s rejection of commercial and racial marginalization in the 1960s to the current polymorphous scene, train your antennae on Michael Zerang. He’s one of the people who did the hard work of not just playing but organizing during the long dry 1980s. His polyvalence extends to his musicality; he’s played unamplified and electro-acoustic improvisation, ecstatic drone, indie rock, free jazz and pan-global percussion. It might seem a bit perverse that his first solo recording is on piano, but listen and your befuddlement will pass. Zerang spends precious little time on the keys. Instead he plunges into the instrument’s interior, liberally preparing its strings and then plucking, scraping and vibrating with sure hands and some trusty vibrators. The music morphs like a chameleon’s coloration, shifting from coarse texture to crystalline drizzle.

Bill Meyer

#dusted magazine #dust #Ahmed Ag Kaedy #isaac olson #astralingua #jennifer kelly #kaja draksler #petter eldh #christian lillinger #bill meyer #maxine funke #houssam gania #patio #pup #joshua redmond #justin cober-lake #vandoliers #eli winter #michael zerang

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Deal

Bonjour, mes chers! I was cleaning up some files and it seems I never uploaded this drabble? It's possible I have it uploaded somewhere and just can't find it, so enjoy it again if that's the case! 

Title: Deal

Alternate Universe: None / Post Canon (Age of Twins ~ 16/17)

Rating: T (for mentions of blood and temporary major character death)

Warnings: Mentions of blood, physical trauma, and temporary major character death

Inspired By: I have no idea, I just found it in my google drive when cleaning

Summary: Dipper should know better than to ever make deals with a demon such as him. Still, family is always more important, isn’t it?

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::

“Well, well, well, isn’t this an interesting thing for me to wake up to!” The boisterous voice grated on the ears and echoed throughout the now silent woods, Dipper’s vision fuzzy as black and white swirled at the edges of his world and- God, what had they done. “Oh, oh, is it my birthday? I feel like it’s my birthday with a gift like this!”

Body twitching on the dry, dead grass, Dipper dug his fingers into the lifeless earth as he looked up at hearing a soft whimper. Mabel was staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, entire body shaking. Autumn leaves were threaded through her hair and dirt mixed with blood streaked her cheeks. He wasn’t sure which one coughed on the blood in their throats first, but he knew that soon the both of them were gasping for air.

“I said to not let them touch it!” The voice that yelled had Dipper covering his ears and no… No, he had heard enough of that voice to last a lifetime. No more. Please- Please. Hadn’t he paid enough for his mistakes? Hadn’t he suffered enough?

“Oh, so it was just an accident. How disappointing- Ooh, but that means you didn’t wake me- Hah! It wasn’t you lot! It was them who did it! Oh, how beautiful.” Dipper couldn’t help but wonder what was worse - running from hell or running straight into its arms.

“Enough. Let’s finish this now. They know too much. Besides, that is weakened. It won’t take much to put it down for good.” Reality around them rippled and shifted and twisted and idiots. Idiots. It had taken the sacrifice of everything to defeat him last time. They really thought he was weak?

“Now, now, didn’t your mother ever teach you to not be rude.” Jerking backwards as blue fire seared its way into the earth, Dipper shrieked at the pain that wracked his body. It hurt- It hurt. The fire, though… When that brushed him, it didn’t hurt. He knew what that meant.

“Di-pper.” God, Mabel sounded as wrecked as he felt. It was all he could do to grasp her hand when she crawled close enough, the two linking their fingers together and holding on tightly. No matter what happened next… Well. At least they would die together, right?

“Oh, how sweet.” Children. They were such children. Had they really thought they could survive this? Had they really thought this was the best idea to beat such a dangerous enemy? It was so- It was- Children. “You thought I was bad, huh? Didn’t even think that there’s more dangers in this world than me. You should be careful of crows, you know. They tend to gather around dead bodies.”

“Release them, demon! The Sect of the Crow stands with God to spread His light and message! You shall not poison the world with your sin!”

“Ugh, disgusting as I remember.” The fire flickered over his skin, Dipper focusing - or at least trying his best to - and staring at the circle that was burned into the dead ground. Circle. Oh… “You made a very dangerous enemy, you two. Honestly, you’re always getting into such trouble!”

The circle wrapped around him and Mabel tightly, Dipper’s gaze slipping and sliding more towards that hazy world of black and white. A scream stuck itself in his throat as his head was jerked up by fingers under his chin, Dipper feeling heat and power as a gloved hand held him in place- Gloved. Human. A human gloved hand.

“What are you doing, demon! Get away from them! Quickly- Quickly! Kill them before it regains power!” Power… Ah, that was right. They had been running- Leading. They had been leading them all and- It was cold.

“You humans are always so fragile.” It hurt. Everything hurt - everything except that quiet voice, words near hummed out instead of spoken. The words were low, and smooth, and nothing like the high-pitched, wild glee from before. “Get in over your head, Pine Tree?”

The blue fires blazed around him and his sister, Dipper prying his eyes open (when had he closed them?) and looking into eyes of molten gold. Eyes. Eyes. “Oh, Pine Tree.” Gold and black and retribution. “Look at you. All grown up.”

Mabel’s weak groan captured his attention for only a moment, the hand on his chin keeping him from moving. He was almost grateful for it. Almost. Almost. So many almosts. He had almost been fast enough. He had almost been smart enough. He had almost been strong enough. He had almost managed to beat them. He had almost managed to save them. Almost, almost, almost.

There was blood on his hands. His head was given a rough shake, Dipper’s gaze skittering back to that molten, bubbling gold, attention utterly and completely captured. All he felt was the leather glove against his skin and the fading warmth of his sister’s hand. “Oh, it seems she’s dying too, now. Tell me, Pine Tree, how much family did your mistakes cost you?”

He thought he was so smart. Now look. Blood. So much blood. Ah, everything was quiet. Maybe that’s why he had this sense of standing on the edge. No- Yeah. Yeah, that was it. It was standing on the edge of a cliff so high up you couldn’t even see the ground and it was just one small step-

“Mason Pines.” The only breathing he could hear was his. The sound of screaming and gunfire was so far away, but the only breathing he could hear was his. Only his. Mabel… “Ssh, it’s alright. I can fix everything. I can fix all of it. You know I can. You know my power.”

Pine Tree. Only one person had ever… Right. They had escaped where they had been keeping them and they had lead them all into the woods that they knew so well and they had a plan. They failed. Blood and fear and human skin had touched the stone. Ah, the hand in his was limp. Cold. Empty. Lifeless.

An intake of air had Dipper coughing, vision swimming before he felt warm human skin instead of a leather glove- Human. “What do I want? Isn’t it obvious? I can fix it, but I want my freedom.” No. No. His family in exchange for the entire world? He could never- Mabel. Mabel. “It may not be worth them, but isn’t it worth your world?” Cold. Cold and lifeless. “Mason Sherman Pines.”

Don’t trust him. Don’t let him in your head. Don’t listen to him. Don’t make the same mistakes. Turn away. Turn away, turn away, turn away quick before he catches you- Save them? “Every single one of them.” The gunshots grew closer and the screaming grew louder. “You know what I want.”

Ah, well. In that case, it wasn’t a competition at all, was it? It never was. Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.

Mabel’s hand fell out of his and another took its place. Warm (burning), hard (painful), and tight (greedy). “You know what to say, don’t you? Well?”

Bill Cipher.

The word was torn out of him with a single, last breath.

“Deal.”

I give you everything.

::

“-ipper. Dipper! Wake up, sleepy head!” Jerking awake with a gasp of air, Dipper clutched at his side where the knife had been stabbed into him far too deep- And… Skin. Nothing but smooth skin that was only broken up by the appendix scar he had since he was nine. Which was impossible - completely impossible. He had just been bleeding out in the woods and dying and oh, god he had said- “Dipper?”

“Okay- I’m okay. I guess I had a nightmare.” Dipper shook under the hand his sister placed against his forehead, looking frantically around the bus. They were on a bus? When had they… It was rumbling along, though, the sight of trees passing them by and the highway bumpy under the wheels. There were only three other people, one on his phone, another asleep against the window, and one hiding obvious animal ears under a hat. “We’re… We’re on a bus.”

“Well, yeah. C’mon, bro-bro, we’re going to visit the Grunkles. Re- Remember?” Mabel looked at him with eyes full of worry, Dipper only giving a shaky nod in response. “It’s June fifteenth.” Right. The start of summer. They were going to Gravity Falls. “Maybe you should try to get some more sleep until we get there.”

“Yeah- Yeah, sorry, Mabel. I just had a really bad nightmare, I guess.” Settling back and closing his eyes, Dipper pulled his hat down low enough to block out the sun, sighing as the world began to darken. Nightmare. It was just a nightmare, he told himself. Only that.

Then his world was filled with black and white and a loud, bright laugh that shook the very foundation of reality.

“Well, well, well. Didn’t that ‘Grunkle’ of yours ever teach you not to make a deal with a demon, Pine Tree?”

#gravity falls #bill cipher #dipper pines #otpafs #blood

[minijenn]

Stonemason Saga Stuff

Because ya’ll are going fucking nuts for this whole Stonemason thing (and honestly, so am I) I decided to list out most of the headcanons/ideas I have for it as well as a lot of what you guys have suggested so far. Mostly so we can collect all of this stuff together in one place and so I can point people who have no idea what it is towards one centralized post. And so, buckle yourself in for some angst because here we go!

This is an idea that will very likely be incorporated into UF’s sequel, regardless of what happens in future SU episodes; it’ll likely be one of the main focuses of the arc immediately following Wanted (which will be an arc ender in UF) (in other words, this isn’t an AU)

Said idea is that, following the events of The Trial, Steven, Mabel, and Lars get away in Blue Diamond’s palanquin, but Dipper doesn’t (for reasons I’m still on the fence on, either he gets noticed and doesn’t make it to the palanquin in time or he volunteers to provide a cover while the others get away (probably will be more along the lines of that second one though)

So the others get away from the Diamonds and continue along the rest of the plot of Wanted (what with Off Colors and Lars’ Head), but Dipper doesn’t and considering both Yellow Diamond’s vendetta against “Rose Quartz” as well as a spoilery thing I can’t talk about yet that happens in UF’s version of Weirdmageddon that’ll have her wanting vengeance on not just Steven but also both of the twins and basically the Gems and the Mystery Shack crew in general, she sees this as very advantageous

Still, to calm the frazzled Blue Diamond down, Yellow assures her that she’s just going to send Dipper off to the human zoo, something she has no intentions of doing as she instead has him taken away (despite his attempts to escape/fight back) and locked up for a while

Still, it’s not too long until Yellow Diamond has Dipper brought back in and so there’s a good bit of tension/confrontation filled with talk about stuff that I can’t bring up because most of it relates to that spoilery thing from Weirdmageddon but anyway…

It ends with Yellow basically giving Dipper an ultimatum: either he willingly agrees to essentially become her assassin and take out “Rose Quartz” (Steven) (who her Sapphires informed her would eventually make it back to Earth somehow) or he’ll be forced into doing it all the same (so yeah, not much of an ultimatum and more of just YD being a vengeful bitch)

So of course, Dipper boldly refuses and long story short, YD’s just like “yeah ok whatever, kid” and she has him hauled off to be “modified”; And by that I mean, basically she has one of his arms literally cut off (and he’s mostly conscious for this too, until he ends up passing out from the pain) and replaced with a cybernetic prosthetic arm (one that’s linked to his nervous system and also can do quite a bit, which I’ll get into later)

Then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, YD then attempts to “reprogram” Dipper into being her loyal assassin, mostly through torture (turns out, YD picked up a few tips about how to get humans to cave from her lengthy deal with Bill); as for the said specifics of this torture… I dunno I’ll come up with something by the time we get closer to that point

But of course, as well all know, Dipper is immensely stubborn and strong-willed, so he resists everything YD throws at him and even tries to escape, even though that attempt is quickly thwarted

But for as stubborn as Dipper is, YD is honestly just as stubborn, so she keeps throwing both physical and psychological torment upon him, until, after weeks of nonstop torture, he finally breaks (like, full on Heroic BSOD here)

So that kinda leaves him an empty slate, which is perfect for YD to being “reconditioning” him; what that basically entails suppressing all of his memories about who he used to be and instead instilling him with the vendetta of a merciless, effective, precise assassin, one who is completely and utterly loyal to her and her alone

So in a move of further cruelty that comes about after her doing a little digging on her new assassin’s now forgotten past, she dubs him her “Stonemason” and sends him to Earth alone with a sole mission: to destroy Rose Quartz, the Crystal Gems, and any and all of their human allies

Meanwhile, back on Earth, Steven and Mabel return after having followed most of the events of the last two episodes of Wanted (what with Lars dying and the whole pinkifying thing) (they did try to go back and save Dipper, but they weren’t able to get back to the courtroom because of the shattering robinoids)

So they made it back but of course, they’re both completely and utterly distraught (Mabel especially so) because they essentially lost Dipper (they aren’t sure if he’s still alive or not) and weren’t able to rescue him

Of course, they tell the Gems (Lapis and Peridot included), Stan, and Ford about what happened and they’re all instantly distressed at the thought of Dipper still being on Homeworld, alone, completely at the Diamonds’ mercy (or lack thereof); needless to say they begin planning out a rescue mission immediately, undeterred by how incredibly dangerous it might be

Still, that takes time, which means there’s plenty of interval time left for everyone to be immensely worried and sad and fearful over what might be happening to Dipper; Mabel’s pretty much inconsolable, Steven’s absolutely guilt ridden, Stan is outraged, Ford’s working himself into a frenzy on the rescue plans, Connie’s resolved to do whatever she can to help save him, Lapis is ready to fly to Homeworld herself to save him, Pacifica refuses to believe he’s really gone, and the other Gems are in a state of distressed panic almost constantly

 All the same, weeks go by all too slowly and miserably for everyone, until one day, Steven, Mabel, and Connie are out and about and all the sudden they’re ambushed by a mysterious, hooded, masked figure, who’s clad with the symbol of Yellow Diamond, and armed with a deadly electric blade and a multi-faceted cybernetic arm

 So they fight this unknown assassin, even though they have no idea who he is (they actually think he might be a cyborg or robot based on his noticeable lack of Gem and how his voice sounds through is mask) but before they drive him off, they find out that 1. He’s actually a human 2. He refers to himself as the Stonemason and 3. His mission is to shatter Rose Quartz in the name of Yellow Diamond

But like I just said, they do manage to drive him off, leaving them with many, many questions about who this new foe might be; they encounter the Stonemason a few more times over the next few days, as do the Gems and maybe Stan or Ford once or twice, and while each time is a close call, neither side really ends up winning in the end

 Until… Steven, Mabel, and Connie come up with a plan to catch their clever new foe by fusing into Mabonnven the next time they fight him; so they do so, only to end up unmasking him to find that the Stonemason is none other than… Dipper

Needless to say the other three kids are completely shocked by this, and while they’re initially overjoyed to see that Dipper’s still alive and (mostly) still in one piece, their relief quickly fades as they realize he doesn’t remember any of them as friends or family and only knows them as targets and enemies (he doesn’t even remember himself tbh, and only knows himself as Yellow Diamond’s loyal assassin, the Stonemason)

While they try to break through to him (Mabel in particular because well dammit, she’s been missing him for weeks and now they finally have him back but he doesn’t even know who they are or who he is), their attempts are in vain as he refutes their claims completely

So Steven, Mabel, and Connie are quick to tell everyone else about what apparently happened to Dipper, and while none of them want to believe it, they eventually encounter him for themselves and see that its true

However, the more they try to reach out to him and get him to remember them and himself, the more the Stonemason starts to break down, questioning his identity and purpose even to Yellow Diamond herself, who’s quick to “recondition” him (using the Diamonds’ letimoff from the beginning of What’s the Use of Feeling Blue) back into his assassin mindset

Still, the gang doesn’t stop trying to help Dipper, but they know that it’s nearly impossible to do that from afar, so eventually the Gems end up apprehending him

So this is the point where things are kind of ambiguous in my mind right now, but long story short, things stay in a constant flux between the Stonemason and the other kids for a while, with Steven, Mabel, Connie, the Gems, Stan, Ford, among others, trying to get him to remember his past and true identity fully; it kinda works, with Dipper’s true personality and memories occasionally shining through, but it’s clear that the Stonemason, or more exactly, Yellow Diamond, is still mostly in control

So without spoiling too much or going into too much detail, they eventually do manage to free Dipper from all that brainwashing and conditioning (in a way that will likely involve the mindscape, because angst and also because this idea needs a bit more GF in it) with his memories fortunately completely intact

The aftermath of all this is… angsty of course, with Dipper needing a lengthy recovery period (he was actually tortured to his breaking point, remember) and him feeling immensely guilty over hurting his friends and family (I do imagine that Stonemason would have at least landed a few hits on Steven, Connie, Mabel, the Gems, and whoever else)

 For a moment of awesome, when YD tries to recondition Dipper back into her control (she does so via a communicator in his cybernetic arm), but this time he’s able to fight back and resist her this time (with some struggling of course) before ripping the communicator out of his arm and destroying it

Still, the effects of all this are quite lasting for everyone, what with the guilt and PTSD that everyone would be having after its all said and done, not just Dipper

From there, idk it basically depends on what unfolds in SU in future episodes, as well as my GF based ideas for the sequel that I can’t really reveal that much about right now (due to spoilers)

Still, that’s kind of how things unfold in a timeline perspective, as for other information about this plot point, let’s start with Stonemason’s design, which you can find a rough concept of here. In short,  the uniform is kind of self explanatory with YD’s insignia all over it, the mask has a filter that makes his voice come across as somewhat (but not too) metallic and deeper, the yellow veins across his face are basically a visible sign of the links between his cybernetic arm and his nervous system, the scar across his birthmark came from YD’s reconditioning, his pupils are Diamond-shaped due to the reconditioning (they return to normal when Dipper regains control though), the sword is electronic and retractable, and his hair’s just a tiny bit longer.

The cybernetic arm not only has a direct Diamond line communicator to YD, but it also has a tracker (that gets taken out once Dipper is freed so YD can’t find him as easily), and it has the ability to transform into a wide array of weapons, including another sword, a laser gun, a Gem destabilizer, a mace, and more (pretty much anything you can think of tbh); however, seeing as how its connected to his nervous system, it can’t really be removed once he’s freed without possibility paralyzing him for life, so he begrudgingly has to keep it.

Following being freed from the brainwashing, Dipper definitely suffers from a good share of nightmares and stress over possibly relapsing back into Stonemason; and because of that fear, he kinda tends to isolate himself a lot from everyone (making him even more introverted than he already is) because he doesn’t want to accidently hurt anyone anymore

Things about this chain of events are completely subject to change depending on what happens in future episodes of SU

 Its really angsty and dark yeah, but rest assured that it will be handled with care in the sequel because I really, really like this idea

And yeah that’s about all I got off the top of my head right now! Like I said, It’s an excellent idea, one that I have to give credit to gffan4799 for suggesting as an AU at first, but I enjoy the possibilities of it so much that I can’t resist the thought of incorporating it into the sequel. All this stuff would probably play out during the arc following Wanted, and wouldn’t extend past that arc (well, its after effects would, and maybe a few… extra events related to it that I may have in mind) but again, this is probably the most concrete original stuff I have in mind for the sequel so far, which is really exciting! Now if you need me, I’ll be working on a chapter with only have the angst of all this, but one that still has plenty of angst all its own… 😉

#a lot of reiteration here but at least its all compiled in one place #now to get back to working on the return #woo boy this idea has consumed my world today #jen writes #universe falls #ideas #sequel stuff #stonemason

[ibelieveinahappilyeverafter]

Wednesday Drabble - Deal

Bonjour, mes chers! For those of you surprised I’m posting a drabble, it’s part of my new uploading schedule! Startled, confused, and going what the hell? Go on and check out all my new Patreon information! For those of you who already know what’s going on, I’ll be posting the Patreon Exclusive drabble later tonight (this morning?), but I hope you all enjoy this one for now!

Title: Deal Fandom: Gravity Falls Alternate Universe: None / Post Canon (Age of twins ~ 16/17) Rating: T (for mentions of blood and temporary character death) Summary: Dipper should know better than to make deals with a demon such as him. Still, family is always more important, isn’t it?

                                                           ::

“Well, well, well, isn’t this an interesting thing for me to wake up to!” The voice grated on the ears and echoed throughout the now silent woods, Dipper’s vision fuzzy as black and white swirled at the edges of his world. God, what had they done. “Oh, oh, is it my birthday? I feel like it’s my birthday with a gift like this!”

Body twitching on the cold, dead grass, Dipper dug his fingers into the lifeless earth as he looked up at hearing a soft whimper. Mabel was staring at him with wide, fearful eyes, entire body shaking. Autumn leaves were threaded through her hair and dirt mixed with blood streaked her cheeks. He wasn’t sure which one coughed on the blood in their throats first, but he knew that soon both of them were gasping for air.

“I said to not let them touch it!” The voice that yelled had Dipper covering his ears and no… No, he had heard enough of that voice to last a lifetime. No more. Please- Please.

“Oh, so it was just an accident. How disappointing- Ooh, but that means you didn’t wake me- Ahah! It wasn’t you lot! It was them who did it! Oh, how beautiful.” Dipper couldn’t help but wonder what was worse, running from hell or running right into its arms.

“Enough. Let’s finish this now. They know too much. Besides, that is weakened. It won’t take much to put it down for good.” Reality around them rippled and idiots. Idiots. It had taken the sacrifice of everything to defeat him last time. They really thought he was weak?

“Now, now, didn’t your mother ever teach you to not be rude.” Jerking backwards as blue fire seared it’s way into the earth, Dipper shrieked at the pain that wracked his body. It hurt- It hurt. The fire, though… When that brushed him, it didn’t hurt. He knew what that meant.

“Di-pper.” God, Mabel sounded as wrecked as him. It was all he could do to grasp her hand when she crawled close enough, the two linking their fingers together and grasping on tightly.

“Oh, how sweet.” Children. They were such children. Had they really thought they could survive this? Had they really thought this was the best idea to beat such a dangerous enemy? It was so- It was- Children. “You thought I was bad, huh? Didn’t even think that there’s more dangers in this world than me. You should be careful of crows, you know. They tend to gather around dead bodies.”

“Release them, demon! The Sect of the Crow stands with God to spread His light and message! You shall not poison the world with your sin!”

“Ugh, disgusting as I remember.” The fire flickered over his skin, Dipper focusing - or at least trying his best to - and staring at the circle that was burned into the dead ground. Circle. Oh… “You made a very dangerous enemy, you two. Honestly, always getting into such trouble!”

The circle wrapped around him and Mabel tightly, Dipper’s gaze slipping and sliding more towards that hazy world of black and white. A scream stuck itself in his throat as his head was jerked up by fingers under his chin, Dipper feeling heat and power as a gloved hand held him in place- Gloved. Human. A human gloved hand.

“What are you doing, demon! Get away from them! Quickly- Quickly! Kill them before it regains power!” Power… Ah, that was right. They had been running- Leading. They had been leading them all and- It was cold.

“You humans are always so fragile.” It hurt. Everything hurt - everything except that quiet voice, words near hummed out. The words were low, and smooth, and nothing like the high-pitched, wild glee from before. “Get in over your head, Pine Tree?”

The blue fires blazed around him and his sister, Dipper prying his eyes open (when had he closed them?) and looking into eyes of molten gold. Eyes. Eyes. “Oh, Pine Tree.” Gold and black and retribution. “Look at you. All grown up.”

Mabel’s weak groan captured his attention for only a moment, the hand on his chin keeping him from moving. He was almost grateful for it. Almost. Almost. So many almosts. He had almost been fast enough. He had almost been smart enough. He had almost been strong enough. He had almost managed to beat them. He had almost managed to save them. Almost, almost, almost.

There was blood on his hands. His head was given a rough shake, Dipper’s gaze skittering back to that molten, bubbling gold, attention utterly and completely captured. All he felt was the leather glove against his skin and the fading warmth of his sister’s hand. “Oh, it seems she’s dying too, now. Tell me, Pine Tree, how much family did your mistakes cost you?”

He thought he was so smart. Now look. Blood. So much blood. Ah, everything was quiet. Maybe that’s why he had this sense of standing on the edge. No- Yeah. Yeah, that was it. It was standing on the edge of a cliff so high up you couldn’t even see the ground and it was just one small step-

“Mason Pines.” The only breathing he could hear was his. The sound of screaming and gunfire was so far away, but the only breathing he could hear was his. Only his. Mabel… “Ssh, it’s alright. I can fix everything. I can fix all of it. You know I can. You know my power.”

Pine Tree. Only one person had ever… Right. They had lead them all into the woods that they knew so well and they had a plan. They failed. Blood and fear and human skin had touched the stone. Ah, the hand in his was limp. Cold. Empty. Lifeless.

An intake of air had Dipper coughing, vision swimming before he felt warm human skin instead of a leather glove- Human. “What do I want? Isn’t it obvious? I can fix it, but I want my freedom.” No. No. His family in exchange for the entire world? He could never- Mabel. Mabel. “It may not be worth them, but isn’t it worth your world?” Cold. Cold and lifeless. “Mason Sherman Pines.”

Don’t trust him. Don’t let him in your head. Don’t listen to him. Don’t make the same mistakes. Turn away. Turn away, turn away, turn away quick before he catches you- Save them? “Every single one of them.” The gunshots grew closer and the screaming grew louder. “You know what I want.”

Ah, well. In that case, it wasn’t a competition at all, was it? It never was. Okay. Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay.

Mabel’s hand fell out of his and another took its place. Warm (burning), hard (painful), and tight (greedy). “You know what to say, don’t you? Well?”

Bill Cipher.

The word was torn out of him with a single, last breath.

“Deal.”

I give you everything.

::

“-ipper. Dipper! Wake up, sleepy head!” Jerking awake with a gasp of air, Dipper clutched at his side where the knife wound had stabbed too deep- And… Skin. Nothing but smooth skin that was only broken up by the appendix scar he had since he was nine. Which was impossible - completely impossible. He had just been bleeding out in the woods and dying and oh, god he had said- “Dipper?”

“Okay- I’m okay. I guess I had a nightmare.” Dipper shook under the hand his sister placed against his forehead, looking frantically around the bus. They were on a bus? When had they… It was rumbling along, though, the sight of trees passing them by and the highway bumpy under their wheels. There were only three other people, one on his phone, another asleep against the window, and one hiding obvious animal ears under a hat. “We’re… We’re on a bus.”

“Well, yeah. C’mon, bro-bro, we’re going to visit the Grunkles. Re- Remember?” Mabel looked at him with eyes full of worry, Dipper only giving a shaky nod in response. “It’s June fifteenth.” Right. The start of summer. They were going to Gravity Falls. “Maybe you should try to get some more sleep until we get there.”

“Yeah- Yeah, sorry, Mabel. I just had a really bad nightmare, I guess.” Settling back and closing his eyes, Dipper pulled his hat down low to block out the sun, sighing as the world began to darken. Nightmare. It was just a nightmare, he told himself. Only that.

Then his world was filled with black and white and a loud, bright laugh that shook the very foundation of reality.

“Well, well, well. Didn’t that ‘Grunkle’ of yours ever teach you not to make a deal with a demon, Pine Tree?”

#gravity falls #patreon #my patreon #billdip #not technically there but it is if you squint!! #my writing