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iishipallthethings · 6 years

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The Hunt Chapter 1

Story Summary: Its been thirteen years since Mabel helped Dipper defeat Bill. And five years since she last step foot in Gravity Falls or even seen her twin brother. Desperate for information and help, Mabel returns to Gravity Falls in hopes of finding her Grunkle Ford but instead, she finds Wendy Corduroy, the new sheriff of the strange town. Why did Mabel leave? What is Wendy hiding?

Chapter Title: Cheers!

Pairing: Wendy x Mabel (slow burn)

Coffee?

The Skull Fracture was the only bar in Gravity Falls. It was advertised as an extreme biker joint and it certainly lived up to that reputation. Mabel parked her motorcycle and headed up to the bouncer guarding the door. He glared down at her and she had to bite her tongue from laughing at his ridiculous “CHIN” and “HEAD” tattoos. She pulled out her ID, well one of them, and handed it over. He glanced at it and jerked his head to the door as he gave it back. “Don’t summon another gnome, kid. I still have the scar from before.” Apparently he remembered her from the time she let loose the gnomes on him when he worked for Gideon. At least he wasn't holding it against her.

Mabel slipped into the bar and surveyed the area. Everything looked pretty much the same from the first time she visited the bar as a child, except there was no Manly Dan destroying the game, Bicepticus. There was however, his daughter waving Mabel over to a table in the back corner. Mabel walked quickly to the older woman, expertly dodging a pair of fighting patrons.

“I’m glad you could make it,” Wendy said with a smile. She was already nursing a bottle and pushed over one that was opened but untouched. Wendy watched Mabel take a gulp, mildly surprised that the older Pines twin could without making a face. “Did anything interesting happen once I left the Mystery Shack?” Wendy asked, sipping her own beer. She had been in Skull Fracture for well over an hour now and she was glad she had the bartender clear away the three previous beers.

“Nah but Soos and I talked a bit more.” Mabel noticed how Wendy’s eyes were slightly more closed than usual and how the older woman had an ever pleasant smile on her face. She wondered how many beers Wendy already had. “He told me about you joining the police force and quickly rising through the ranks because,” she looked around to make sure there were no outsiders present at the bar. Finding none, she continued, “of your involvement with the magical creatures of Gravity Falls.”

Wendy showed her confusion and tightened her grip on her bottle on instinct. Realization dawned on her face and she loosened the bottle to wave away Mabel’s words. “Oh that? It’s not a big deal, really.” Wendy took a gulp from her bottle and frowned when only a little came out. She sighed and pushed the empty bottle away. “After all the weird stuff was exposed during Weirdmageddon, the magical folk didn’t want to stay in the forests anymore. I guess they figured if people already knew about them, then why not venture out?” Wendy rested an elbow on the table and then her chin in her palm so her vision of Mabel wouldn’t sway so much. “We obviously couldn’t let them roam free with all those tourists coming and going so we, or rather I, came up with a deal when I got onto the police force.” She turned her head so she was looking at the bar’s counter. “Hey! I want some sex on a beach!” Several of the bar’s attendees hooted at the words and Wendy rolled her eyes. It took Mabel a few moments and a blush later to realize the older woman was ordering the drink and not making a sexual request. Wendy looked back at Mabel, “Three, two, one.”

Just as she hit one, the doors leading into the kitchen slammed open and a Manotaur came walking out. He had to hold the drink up high and sidewalk through the little opening in the counter. The bar’s patrons didn’t react to the half-man, half-taur moving about, humming some tune. He set the drink down in front of Wendy. “Here you go, sheriff. It’s on the house, along with your other drinks.”

“Thank you, Chutzpar.” Wendy winked at Mabel and pointed to the charm hanging from the Manotaur’s neck. “See that?” Without asking permission, she reached over and grabbed the charm. Chutzpar didn’t seem to mind, he even leaned closer so the two women could better see the little trinket. It was made from ancient oak dyed red and carved into an eight-pointed star. “This is the alchemical symbol of life. Inside it, there is a small vial of the wearer’s blood. To anyone who doesn’t know Chutzpar’s a Manotaur, he would appear as an average, unremarkable human being.”

Chutzpar stood up straight and Wendy let go of the charm. He slammed a closed fist into his chest, careful not to crush his charm. “Even if I did look human, I look like the manliest man there is!” he declared. Wendy rolled her eyes again and grabbed her drink. Before she could take even a sip of it, Chutzpar laid a hand on her arm, covering it entirely. “Wait, I forgot the most important part!” He reached into the pocket of the apron he had tied around his waist. Chutzpar opened up a bright pink tiny umbrella and carefully set it into the drink. “There! Perfect!” He turned around and headed back to the kitchen, taking orders from the other customers as he walked past.

“I got to hand it to him, he makes a killer sex on a beach,” Wendy said, plucking out the umbrella and holding it out to Mabel. The older Pines twin however just stood there with her mouth agape. Wendy frowned and poked her forehead. “Uh, you still there Mabel?”

Mabel came back to earth and shook her head, her eyes glued to the closed kitchen door. “Wha?”

Wendy chuckled and grabbed Mabel’s hand, turning it over and opening it. She placed the umbrella into her palm and settled back to her seat. “Cool, right? Gideon made them after a bus of tourists got flashed by something called the Hide Behind near the Mystery Shack. A kid got really freaked and started screaming it's the Slenderman or something, I don’t know. Either way, we had to erase their memories and Gideon made all of the magical creatures their own charm.” The sheriff shrugged like the entire incident wasn’t a big deal.

“Gideon!?” Mabel choked on her beer and Wendy gave her a few slaps on the back. The sheriff was a lot stronger than she looked, it felt as if she was being punched by Manly Dan. Mabel shook her head at another slap and caught her breath. “He made them?”

“Well yeah. I mean Mr. Ford helped but Gideon did all the carvings.” Wendy drank from her glass and looked down at it with a grimace. “Why did I even order this?” She looked at Mabel and a sly grin spread across her cheeks. She nodded to the beer Mabel was holding. “I’ll trade ya. I know how much you like girly things and this isn’t nearly as strong as those beers, I swear.”

Mabel cocked an eyebrow. “What, you think I can’t drink?” Wendy nodded, her smile becoming cocky mixed with a little mockery. Mabel looked over to the bar and slapped a hand against the table. “One mongolian motherfucker, please!”

“Whoah, Mabel wait,” Wendy immediately began protesting. “Don’t you know what’s in those?” She knew she might have been teasing the younger woman too much by suggesting she couldn’t drink but this was definitely not the right response. Mabel was going to end up even drunker than her if she gets that drink. And Mabel was supposed to be her ride home!

Mabel simply smirked at Wendy and tapped her fingertips on the wood. “Take back what you said about me not being able to drink and I’ll cancel it.”

Wendy didn’t even take the time to consider the proposition. “You can drink, okay! I mean, man can you drink. You finished that beer in like what, twenty minutes?” Mabel’s eyes narrowed and Wendy scrambled to say something else. “Not that that means you can’t hold your liquor! You just wanted to savor the taste, I get that more than anyone!”

But it was too late. Chutzpar had come out of the kitchen, looking as dubious as Wendy felt. He placed the drink in front of Mabel and cleared his throat. “Before you drink that, I’m going to have to ask for your keys.” Mabel handed them over without any complaint. He stuffed them in his pocket and walked back to the kitchen, telling people their food would be ready soon enough.

“Any last words?” Mabel asked, lifting the drink.

“Please don’t,” Wendy pleaded, doing her very best puppy dog face.

To her credit, Mabel hesitated for a moment but it ended with a smirk as she took a huge gulp from the glass. Wendy watched in stunned disbelief as Mabel gave a sound of appreciation and set the glass down, not grimacing or gagging as the fiery mixture went down her throat. “Not bad,” she praised.

Wendy blinked a few times, trying to connect this new Mabel to the one she first met thirteen years ago. “What’s gotten into you?”

Mabel shrugged and took a swig from her drink, much less this time Wendy noticed but still too much in her opinion. “When you go out and travel the world, you learn how to drink.”

The words seemed to have stolen some of the drunken happy atmosphere that was being created around the two. Wendy sheltered her meager sex on a beach in both of her hands, staring down at the fruity mixture. “It was really unexpected you know.” Wendy glanced away at where two men were singing a song about a woman stealing their heart and money at the top of their lungs at the bar. “It was like you were here and then poof! You left us.” She lifted her eyes to look at Mabel’s and the younger woman had no idea she could cause this much pain with her absence. “Can you at least tell me why?”

“I- uh,” Mabel bought herself some precious time by taking a long sip from her drink. Now the bubblegum flavor tasted like motor oil. “I wanted to go off on my own for a bit,” she said lamely. She wasn’t sure if she could tell Wendy the truth. The sheriff would have worried over her too much.

Wendy frowned at Mabel, seeing through the lie easily. “Without Dipper?” she pressed. “He’s your twin, you two went to literal hell and back. You defeated Bill together!” The way Mabel’s grip tightened on her drink made Wendy’s eyes soften with regret. “I’m sorry, I should have figured that it was a sore spot.” It was for her too in truth, after everything settled, it took months for her not to wake up screaming and sobbing and even longer for the nightmares to stop plaguing her on a regular basis. Mabel must have gotten a lot worse from that monster.

Mabel held up a hand of truce. “It’s okay. I shouldn't be like this now, it’s been more than a decade since that Bill fiasco.” She looked around her at the laughing and occasional fighting. “I should have moved on by now.” Mabel was jolted by the hard slap Wendy gave the table.

Wendy jabbed a finger at Mabel’s face. “That’s it. No more sad times.” She looked at the door where Chutzpar’s head was poking out. “Two rounds of tequila and keep them coming!”

The Manotaur disappeared for a quick second and came back, balancing a tray of fresh food and the two women’s liquor. With expert ease, he handed the food to the respective customers before standing in front of the two. He set two shots of tequila in front of Mabel and two more for Wendy. He held the tray under his arm and held out his hand. “Keys,” he said. Wendy placed her own into his palm and he walked back to the kitchen. “I’ll tell your friend to take over your shift.”

“You’re still on work!?” Mabel exclaimed.

The sheriff laughed and pointed an accusing finger at Mabel. “What did I say about not having more sad times?” She took her first shot and raised it in a salute. “Besides, nothing serious happens around here anymore. It’s totally fine if I get a little tipsy.”

Mabel wasn’t sure if she agreed with that logic but her hand already found its way to the shot. She saluted Wendy and they downed the drinks, foregoing the lemon and salt altogether.

The rest of the time at Skull Fracture was a blur. One shot turned into two, then three, then Mabel couldn't count anymore. All she knew was that Chutzpar cut them off sometime later and when Wendy threatened to arrest him for not letting her to continue to drink, he called a cab. Mabel didn’t like how calm the Manotaur was about dealing with a drunk Wendy. She did like however how Wendy slurred the words to the song she claimed to despise when they were younger. She especially liked how Wendy tried to grab her leg to chew at her uniform pants when she belched out the “Eat your pants” part. Now Mabel was staring up at a ceiling on some couch. It was so comfy and the pillows had cute robins sewn on them. She traced one and imagined it spread its wings so she would have more to touch. “So soft,” she murmured. A loud and rather carefree bout of laughter brought Mabel’s attention down to the floor. Wendy laid on her back, looking up at the older Pines twin. “Hey you,” Mabel called out, swinging down an arm to touch Wendy’s face.

The sheriff just laughed harder and batted the hand away. “You’ve changed a lot but you’re still a dork.” She reached up to pat at Mabel’s arm. “What do you do on your travels?” Wendy giggled at her choice of words.

“Stuff,” Mabel answered, rolling so she laid on her stomach to better see Wendy. She was half on the couch and half off but she couldn’t find herself to care.

“What kind of stuff?”

Mabel chewed her bottom lip and figured what the hell. “Hunting.” She saw Wendy’s eyes narrow in confusion. Mabel could have hunted in Gravity Falls. The younger woman laughed and slapped at Wendy’s arm. “Not like that! I mean I’ve been hunting bad things.” She knew it was dangerous to tell her friend of her adventures but it was like a floodgate was opened. She couldn't close her mouth, even as understanding and horror spread on Wendy’s features. “I’ve actually met a couple of hunters like me. They’re really nice, except for Jake. Jake’s a dick.” Mabel giggled and slapped a hand on her forehead, but missed and ended up hitting herself right in the middle of her face. She winced but shrugged off the sting. “Wait, that’s mean. But it’s true.”

Wendy sat up and rested a hand on Mabel’s arm, staring into the woman’s eyes. “You’re killing magical creatures?” she whispered like speaking too loud would alert said creatures of Mabel’s deeds.

Mabel didn’t like the look Wendy was giving her and it twisted her insides to see a tiny bit of fear in her eyes. She should be smiling. Wendy said it herself. No more sad times, damnit! “I’m only putting down the evil kind. The ones like Bill and his asshole buddies.”

“Oh,” was all Wendy could say to that. She licked her lips, suddenly parched. “Are you being safe?”

“As safe as I can be.” Which meant not safe at all but Wendy didn’t need to know that. She worried enough as it was in Mabel’s mind. She patted Wendy’s head as if she was a dog and giggled at the responding grimace and drunken glare. “I’ve already escaped death once or twice even before meeting Bill. I got this,” she said confidently. Her head fell back to the couch. She didn’t realize how comfortable it was until now. It was so soft and comfy. “Night night,” she yawned.

Wendy opened her mouth to continue the conversation but a light snore came out of Mabel. She had completely passed out on her. The sheriff released a shaky breath and moved a strand of hair out of Mabel’s mouth. She got up on trembling legs and made her way to her bedroom. Wendy collapsed on her bed and held the penguin, panda thing that Dipper had won her all those years ago close to her chest. The way Mabel talked about ‘hunting’ made Wendy’s blood freeze in her veins. There was something in her eye. If Wendy’s mind wasn't so obscured by so much liquor she would have recognized it as pride. As bloodlust.

#the hunt #wendyxmabel #wendy x mabel #mabel pines #wendy corduroy #gravity falls #chutzpar #wenbel

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tiambengo · 3 years

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#lunchboxdrawrings #365in2021hopefully #grinktober2021 #19of31 #desistir #giveup #gravityfalls #disney #abuelita #manotaur #chutzpar #anglelock #anklelock #vs #abuelitavschutzpar Today's word is 'Desistir' or 'give up' . 19of31. When i saw today's prompt it took me a second to figure out what to draw. This is what i came up with. All of these characters are from the mighty fine cartoon series Gravity Falls created by Alex Hirsch. It's on Disney+ and Hulu, you should check it out. https://www.instagram.com/p/CVQV4tmlfll/?utm_medium=tumblr

#lunchboxdrawrings #365in2021hopefully #grinktober2021 #19of31 #desistir #giveup #gravityfalls #disney #abuelita #manotaur #chutzpar #anglelock #anklelock #vs #abuelitavschutzpar

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dippermabelpines · 3 months

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GRAVITY FALLS 1.06 - Dipper vs. Manliness

#gravity falls #gravityfallsedit #animationedit #cartoonedit #tvedit #gfedit #mabel pines #dipper pines #stanley 'grunkle stan' pines #wendy corduroy #chutzpar #dipper vs. manliness

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vinylnathan · 7 years

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Here is the Mysteries of Gravity Falls #1 series in its entirety! It was definitely a fun one to draw.

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astro-b-o-y-d · 10 months

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“Aww, a show of force and a clever pun?” Tyler said, pressing his hands to his flushed face. “He really does know what I like~!” He gave Chutzpar a wink. “Well, you be sure to tell Dan that I will certainly be wearing the panther shirt on Thursday!” “Super,” Wendy said, her tone deadpan. “Can we go to the Shack now?”

Wendy when she has to deal with her dad's boyfriend being her dad's boyfriend

#Hayley Writes Triangulum #Listen she likes Tyler fine but also that's her Dad he's dating #And also there's a lot of complicated feelings that will be elaborated on in later chapters

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introvert-no-chameleon · 4 years

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Chapter 3: Fear Itself

New Chapter is up! AO3

Fiddleford didn’t know how long he’d be able to handle this.

His new senses had begun to overwhelm him; the sharp, fresh scent of pine trees was stronger than it’d ever been. The sound of small critters shuffling around the forest floor and the babbling of a river a few yards away sounded too close. Everything felt like too much and too little. He shut his eyes, trying to think of something to ground him, but his mind only went back to what had happened an hour ago.

He ran away from Stanley.

His darling had only been looking out for him, and he’d gone and messed up because of some childish pride. Stanley was right; he hadn’t been able to hold it together after all. For Heaven’s sakes, he was hiding in a bush. It didn’t get more pathetic than that.

The truth was, he’d already known that he was over his head. He was nothing like the twins, and the transformation was proof enough. It made sense he’d be something this silly, and the Pines brothers would be two powerful beasts. After all, they were stubborn, strong-willed individuals. For all their bickering, when the two of them worked together they made a near-unstoppable force.

They didn’t need Fiddleford. By this point Stanford probably had him around out of pity, or because Stanley fancied him. Why else would they deal with such a whimpering, pathetic coward that ran away at the first whiff of danger, that constantly needed to be saved?

Something crashed through the trees a few feet away, shaking him out of his self-pity. A giant, black hoof, followed by another, came into view just a few feet in front of his hiding spot. Through the foliage, he could see a few more pairs of smaller hooves appear.

The Manotaurs. Fifty-percent man, fifty-percent ox, and a hundred percent aggression. They were minotaurs, if minotaurs went around acting as if they had something to prove.

Judging by the large hoof, it was the leader, Leaderaur, a hulking mass of pure muscle and testosterone the size of their shack. Fiddleford had seen him once, when he and Stanford had gone to observe their behavior. He could still remember, in vivid detail, watching Leaderaur eat a smaller member of his pack just to assert his dominance. Despite being half of an herbivore, he clearly didn’t have an issue swallowing a smaller member of his species.

Even Stanford hadn’t wanted to stay after that.

Fiddleford kept his breathing as quiet as he possibly could in his current state, hoping he wouldn’t be heard. He began to hate his new sense of smell, because he could almost taste the sweat from where he was. The Manotaurs obviously weren’t as concerned about hygiene as they should be.

“Is this where you smelled it, Chutzpar?” The rumbling voice of Leaderaur seemed to shake the earth.

“Yes, Leaderaur!” said a deep, masculine voice. “I caught the scent of emotional issues, vulnerability and debilitating self-esteem.”

Well, he never.

“An excellent snack, then,” said Leaderaur.

Fiddleford squeaked. He covered his mouth, silently cursing himself a thousand times over. A hand grabbed him around his entire body and lifted him off the ground as if he weighed less than a paperclip.

He came face-to-face with two red eyes. Sleek black fur covered most of Leaderaur, making him appear more animal-like than the rest of the Manotaurs, who at least had mostly human features.

Fiddleford kicked at the giant hand that held him in place. It did nothing to deter the beast from keeping him in his grip.

Leaderaur sniffed Fiddleford. A hit breath smelling like rotting meat hit Fiddleford, stinging the corner of his eyes. “Hm. A jackalope. Interesting.”

“I ain’t no jackalope! I’m a human bein’, an’ I demand to be put down this here instant!”

Leaderaur growled, the sound rumbling through Fiddleford’s very bones. “I don’t like my prey to talk back. Especially not such a scrawny weakling.”

Now, if Fiddleford were living a different day, perhaps if he’d gone through less or wasn’t as upset, he’d probably still be paralyzed by the usual raw terror that seemed to lock his limbs stiff whenever he got cornered by a monster, and he probably woudn’t have been able to do much when the giant creature opened its jaws up and swallowed him.

But today hadn’t been a different day. Even on the day of the Gnome Incident, Fiddleford had at least preserved some of his dignity by making it as difficult as possible for the gnomes to move him. The entire ordeal had finished in more or less two hours, including the part when Stanley had patched him up.

Today, however, had been the day where he’d gotten into a fight with his boyfriend, where he’d tripped and fallen into danger like some hot-headed hooligan, where he’d had to deal with the two brothers that just never seemed to get along, damnit, not even for one day, where he now had to worry about getting mauled because he looked like some carrot-munching herbivore and Fidds, frankly, had just about had enough.

With no small amount of effort, he took all the nervous energy coursing through him and forced himself to use it for something either than panicking. While Fiddleford didn’t have a robot or an invention on hand, he did have a nifty set of strong rabbit legs. So when Leaderaur began to open his mouth, Fiddleford kicked him in the eye with all of the energy he could muster.

The good news was, he was dropped, and he hadn’t been too high up. The bad news was, Leaderaur wasn’t alone.

Fiddleford had underestimated the power behind his new legs. He hadn’t poked the eye out, but it wasn’t in good shape either, seeing as he couldn’t open the puffy eye. Leaderaur roared, baring teeth at Fiddleford.

“Leaderaur!” The Manotaur with the red mane, presumably Chutzpar, pointed at Fiddleford. “The jackalope has struck against our leader! This means a fight…to the death!” A couple of Manotaurs began to surround him.

Fiddleford leaped over one of the Manotaurs. Another managed to trip him as he landed. Just as he made a grab for Fiddleford, he remembered his new antlers. He swung his head to the side, his teeth clanking against each other as he smacked his attacker away.

More Manotaurs began to run at him.

Fidds quickly started examining his surroundings, desperate to find an opening, but the Manotaurs had clearly done this dance before. They surrounded him on all sides, arms outstretched and ready to grab him. He may be faster like this than he was as a human, but he was certain they’d catch him if he tried leaping over them.

A Manotaur lunged at him. Fiddleford ducked under him. The man crashed into one of his companions, leaving the opening the man needed to get out, when one of them caught his leg.

“I’ve got him!”

Fiddleford socked him in the snout, drawing blood as his assailant howled. His hand cracked, and he was sure that he’d broken something, but he was too hopped up on blood-pumping adrenaline to stop now. He lowered his head, pointing his antlers at the remaining creatures. Another ran, and Fiddleford managed to knock him to the side with his antlers. The impact made his teeth knock together, but the fact that he’d just taken one more attacker out of the picture made it worth it.

How had he ever missed out on this? To think all this time he’d been taking out his anger on people in a machine when this felt so much better. No wonder Stanley loved boxing so much! Sweat poured down his face, his chest rising and falling. He stomped a foot onto the ground, startling the Manotaurs.

“Come ‘ere an’ get me, ya testosterone-poisoned hornswagglin’ hooligans! There’s more where that came from!”

The Manotaurs, who had begun their attack with confidence began to waver. For a glorious moment, Fiddleford felt confident that he would be able to get out of this after all.

A quick swipe from Leaderaur, however, slapped away his good mood and sent him flying into a bush. He hadn’t expected Leaderaur to recover so soon, nor for him to smack him as easily as Fiddleford would hit a fly with a newspaper. Thankfully, he didn’t feel like anything had broken (aside from his pride, which he figured was far gone by now anyway) but his body hurt, and he felt the sting of a few cuts on his body. To make matters worse, his legs were tangled in the branches of the bush.

The shadow of the giant creature’s arm loomed over Fiddleford’s hunched figure.

He winced, holding his arms up in a vain attempt to defend himself.

“FIDDS!”

A blur of grey knocked the leader down on his back. The ground once again shook, a canopy of dust engulfing the area.

Fiddleford heard a roar nearby. He couldn’t see much through the dust cloud, but he made out what he assumed was Stanford slashing at a Manotaur. Fiddleford took the chance to pull his leg out. He caught some confused Manotaurs unaware by swinging his antlers like the madman he arguably was.

He lifted his head to find the pack retreating. Leaderaur raised a closed fist, ready to bring it upon Stanley’s body. He froze, staring past Fiddleford and at Ford.

Fiddleford glanced at his friend. Stanford managed to look more intimidating than he had yet, teeth bared, claws digging into the earth, fur on end. Even with the comically out-of-place sweater vest he still managed to hold a commanding presence.

Fiddleford felt that instinct grab him by the throat again. He tensed, his legs ready to flee.

Leaderaur choose that moment to fling Stanley off him and dash off after the pack, his thunderous footsteps fading as he left.

Fiddleford could only watch as the gargoyle crashed into the ground, making a concerning amount of cracking sounds as he hit the earth. He gasped once he noticed a series of thin cracks across the stony body.

The shock of seeing his boyfriend hurt jolted Fiddleford back to his senses faster than anything could. His mind cleared as much as it could when you’d just watch a loved one get slammed into the ground by a giant monster.

Ford ran towards his brother. “Stanley!” He went to Stanley’s side and begun to inspect the wounds.

Stanley groaned. He tried getting up with one hand as support but fell right back down with a hiss.

“You knucklehead!” Stanford helped him up. “You could’ve gotten killed!”

“It’s nothin’,” said Stanley with a grimace. “I coulda taken him down no problem if I had a few more seconds.” His eyes widened as he set his eyes on Fiddleford, his gaze softening. “Sides, he was gonna kill Fidds. Couldn’t let that happen.”

The tenderness in his voice made Fiddleford want to cry, but now wasn’t the time for it. “Ferget about me, yer cracked!”

“I’m what?”

Stanford frowned, wrapping an arm around Stanley to support him. “You’ve damaged your skin. Thankfully, you still seem to be in one piece. If you had been human…” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “We can discuss your recklessness later. Do you feel any pain?”

The gargoyle shook his head. “Nothin’ really, but I do feel kinda woozy.”

Stanford looked at Fiddleford. “Fiddleford, have you managed to regain control of yourself?”

The question hurt, but he knew Stanford hadn’t said it out of malice. Bluntness was just a part of who Stanford was. “As much as I reckon I can, bein’ like this.”

“Good,” Stanford began walking with Stanley. “I’ll need you to help. I can take most of Stanley’s weight, but I still need assistance.”

Fiddleford went over to his empty side. “Give me yer free arm, Stanley.”

“Ya sure?”

“Ask me that again and I’ll smack ya on the head.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he let Fiddleford take it. It was just as heavy as Fiddleford remembered, but he found that he could manage the weight a little better than before. Maybe there was something useful about this form after all.

“Hey, at least that’s over,” said Stanley with a chuckle. “Nice job scarin’ them off, Sixer.”

Stanford gave a goofy grin at his twin’s praise. “I think you did most of the work there, Stanley.”

Fiddleford shook his head. “The two of ya do make quite the team. Saved my sorry behind as usual.”

Stanley frowned, shifting to look at Fiddleford. “Hey—”

Stanford stopped abruptly. He froze, his grip on Stanley growing tighter. “Do. Not. Move.”

“What are ya…?” Stanley followed his gaze and clamped his mouth shut.

Fiddleford’s heart caught in his throat as he caught a glimpse at the creature in front of them, one that had somehow managed to stay perfectly still the entire time and blended with the deep greens of the mossy trees. It’s heavy, labored breaths were the only sound that could be heard.

It was tall, with mushrooms growing on its shoulders. It had hideous fangs jutting out from its bottom jaw, a muscular build, and green skin. Its glowing red eyes were fixed on the trio.

“Oh good Lord,” whispered Fiddeford. “What is that?”

“It can’t be…,” said Ford. “It’s the Gremoblin! I’ve only heard stories about it. Perhaps it isn’t hostile…”

“It has glowing red eyes, Poindexter,” hissed Stanley. “I don’t think it wants to sit down and play cards!”

The Gremoblin reared its head and roared at them.

“Run!” Fiddleford began tugging them away from the hulking beast just as it swiped its claws (why did everything in this god-forsaken forest have claws the size of knives?) where they stood moments before.

“Wait, at least let me take a moment to observe the creature for my journal—”

“Stanferd, I swear to the Lord above if ya dare to stop right now I will throw all yer journals into the Bottomless Pit!”

Stanford’s eyes widened, but at least he didn’t slow down, so Fiddleford considered that as good of an answer as any.

Stanley ducked as the creature swiped at them again. “I’m with Fidds on this one!”

“Alright, alright I’m running!”

“Then do it faster!” said Stanley.

“It’s difficult for me to run like this!”

A shadow flew over them. Fiddleford didn’t have time to register what it was until a boulder fell in their path. The three of them lost their balance and stumbled to the ground.

Fiddleford managed to spring back to his feet, but he couldn’t get Stanley to budge. The cracks on his back spread. “Stanferd, come on!”

Ford held his leg, wincing. “I think I sprang my ankle—well, I’m actually not sure if I have an ankle in this form—but the point is, I can’t move!”

The goblin-like creature went over to them, closing in.

Stanley forced himself to his feet. His lip twisted with pain, but he dragged himself in front of his brother, raising his fists. His stance didn’t have the confidence it usually had; he wobbled just enough for Fiddleford to notice. “Ya think ya can get to my brother? Not on my watch, bucko!”

“Stanley…” Stanford gasped as he tried, and failed, to get on his feet.

“I’ll distract Ugly here,” said Stanley, turning to Fiddleford. “Fidds, get Ford and get the hell out of here!”

Fiddleford didn’t budge. “I ain’t leaving ya!”

Stanley ducked as the monster tried to grab him. He threw a punch at its arm, sending it reeling back. “I’ll be fine! Just go!”

Fiddleford’s chest started to pound again. His arms were lead, his tongue felt fuzzy and his legs trembled, more nervous energy waiting to be unleashed, a coil waiting to unfurl.

Then the monster grabbed Stanley. Its eyes went from a deep red to yellow. It stared directly at his boyfriend, and Fidds could only watch as Stanley stiffened, jaw slack as if he was in a trance.

Then he screamed, and something in Fiddleford snapped.

Stanley Pines did not scream like that. He’d always put on a façade, and even at his most terrified he’d use his energy to fight back. He’d always smirk or wink back at whoever he was protecting, making bad puns as he fought his way out of a problem. Yes, he was a loud man, making his presence known in every room to an obnoxious degree, but he never screamed as if something was being ripped apart inside of him. He never cowered like Fiddleford, or even Stanford did on the rare occasion that he was afraid instead of fascinated.

The Gremoblin dropped Stanley like a dead weight. The gargoyle curled in on himself, trembling, wings covering him. He clawed at his face frantically. Fiddleford didn’t know if gargoyles had tear ducts, but Stanley sounded close to sobbing.

The creature walked towards Stanford, who limped towards his fallen brother, with murderous intent.

It should be noted, to anyone who is reading this, that while Fiddleford Hadron McGucket considered himself to be a patient, level-headed individual, he was also a man who would go on a rampage whenever someone had earned his ire or broke his heart. At the age of twelve he wrestled a wild hog after seeing it make a beeline for his then-pregnant Ma and won, and he once fought off a grizzly bear with a banjo when it tried to attack Tate on their last camping trip. His wife had (once she talked to him again after the whole robot incident) lovingly coined this particular type of behavior as his “hillbilly frenzy mode”.

So it really shouldn’t have surprised Fiddleford as much as it did when he ended up steeling himself, ducking his head and charging straight at the creature that had lifted a large gargoyle with ease. But the thing about surprises is, even if one considers the possibility of one, it usually doesn’t dull the shock of going through the unexpected.

The creature had focused all its attention on the larger threat, and obviously hadn’t expected the scrawny man to do much, let alone stab him with a pair of antlers with a wild cry and enough force to knock the Gremoblin down.

Fiddleford hadn’t cut too deep, so he managed to retract his antlers a moment later.

The creature was quick to get back on its feet. Two wounds were oozing a dark green liquid that must’ve been the creature’s blood. It charged at Fiddleford, and he leaped over it, using its shoulder for leverage to get a higher jump. Glancing to make sure that the monster was away from the twins, he shouted at it.

“Is that the best ya got, ya white-feathered varmint? Come ‘ere an’ get me if ya want me!”

Fiddleford didn’t wait to see if it would follow; a roar confirmed that much for him. He let his legs lead the way, but while before he’d just throw himself into the wilderness, now knew exactly where he was headed.

The snapping of wood and thunderous steps behind him warned him that his opponent would catch up soon. Which was all well, since his destination was right ahead.

The Bottomless Pit had been one of those anomalies that they’d discovered when Stanford had, in an act of brilliance that Fiddleford used as yet another bit of proof on why Stanford could not be left unsupervised when it came to exploring the unknown, jumped in it. His employer, a man of 12 Ph.D.’s, had, upon dropping a pen and not hearing it drop, took a step forward and fell right onto the pit, taking Stanley and Fiddleford with him when they’d tried to save him.

It was in that traumatic turn of events that the trio had discovered what Stanford claimed he’d known all along: the pit itself wasn’t bottomless, and it wasn’t even a straight fall down. They’d been spit right back out of where they’d fallen in after twenty minutes of what should’ve been a straight dive to their deaths.

And that was more than enough time for the three of them to get away from this monster and back in the shack.

He let the Gremoblin close in. Just as it made to attack, he threw himself to the side. It fell in but managed to cling to the side of the pit. It began lifting itself back up, and that wouldn’t do at all. Fidds went to kick it in, but it held his leg in a vice and dug its claws into the meat of his calf.

Fidds howled, seeing stars and all at once, he wasn’t at the edge of the pit. He was back at the shack, staring at the front door. He stared down at his normal, human legs.

“What on earth?”

It was then he noticed the blood.

It seeped through the bottom of the door, through the windowsill, dripping on the wood floor. Fiddleford stumbled back, hitting the ground as he began to crawl back. He got on his feet and almost tripped over himself as he punched the combination for the underground lab on the vending machine they kept in its place.

Instead of swinging open to reveal an elevator, it just had three people stumble out of it.

Fiddleford’s head spun, his hands flying to his mouth. Every person he cared about lay on the ground in front of him, his young son and the twins, covered in gashes, eyes vacant and cloudy.

But.

They were gone, they must’ve gotten hurt, they weren’t careful—

No.

They weren’t dead. This wasn’t any more real than the fear he’d carry with him each and every day, where he knew that one bad step could lead to a drop or an encounter with something volatile.

He felt it every day, and he figured it was about damn time he’d stop letting it control him.

He made himself to focus on the pain and collect thoughts like the fireflies he’d scoop up in a jar when he was just a youngling, on the hot June nights when the sun had just set.

The image wavered then, a stone thrown in the water, rippling, disrupting.

He thought of Stanford’s relentless, if not at times foolish, courage that never stopped him from pursuing his passion.

The bodies faded away.

He thought of Tate, his shy and curious boy, of the quiet days they’d spend talking about nature or fishing.

The blood dried up, as if it never been there.

He thought about Stanley, always so brash yet so sweet, hardened by life yet able to still hold Fiddleford so tender all those nights, to be so gentle that it felt like Stanley carried his heart on the palm of his big hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. As if Fiddleford was worth that much to him.

He came back, a thunder-clap moment of disorientation as he tasted salt sweat and smelled the pine trees.

“Ya think I don’t know fear? Well, let me tell ya somethin’.” He grabbed a rock nearby. “Ya can’t scare a feller who is already scared outta their wits!”

He smashed it on its hand, and watched it plummet away, down and down, until he couldn’t see it anymore.

And only when he was sure it disappeared from sight did he allow himself to sit down and catch his breath. And laugh. And laugh and laugh until his belly ached and the high-pitched, manic sound bounced throughout the woods, a tension he hadn’t known he held released.

Once he managed to compose himself enough, he went back to where he knew the twins were waiting.

#of monsters and mcguckets #young stanley pines #young stanford pines #young fiddleford #gravity falls #mystery trio #mystery trio au #monster falls

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fereality-indy · 6 years

Text

My Gravity Falls Next Generation Part 3

Here are some more members of my next generation Gravity Falls characters. Blubs & Durland's daughter, Marcus Corduroy's son, and the newest member of the Manotaurs.

Name: Katherine "Kitty" Blubs Durland (16)

Gender: Female

General Appearance: Kitty stands 5'1". Her fashion tends to run towards rockabilly or retro punk. She wears her hair in a Bettie Page cut with a bumper roll.

Personality: A queen bee, she rules the town's social scene. Because her dads former and current sheriff, she believes that she can get away with anything. And with the way her dads doted on her ever since they adopted her, she may be right as long as it happens in the Gravity Falls town limits. She has had a rivalry with Stacey Vallentino ever since she took over Stacey's old band & converted them into a rockabilly band.

Special Talents: Kitty is a pretty good rockabilly singer & a fairly smooth talker.

Who they like better: She loves both of her dads.

Who they take after more: Well she gets her inflated self worth from both of them.

Personal Head canon: Adopted as a young child, her middle name is officially Blubs (her dads messed it up on the adoption paperwork.) Once they had her home, she became an instant daddy's girl. Seeing her dads as the most important people in her life as she grew up and then seeing their position of power flaunted imprinted on her. She has been one to garher & use power ever since, but her dads only see her as their little princess.

Name: Colin Corduroy (15)

Gender: Male

General Appearance: At 6' and with a beefy build Colin is a Corduroy through & through. He wears a green flannel shirt, grass & mud stained pants, logger gloves, work boots, & a green nightcap style beanie.

Personality: Despite being outclassed athletically by Ran, Colin considers himself to be the only true heir to the Gravity Falls' Corduroy family genes after his aunt Wendy abandoned the family business to become the town's paranormal park ranger with her husband. And seeing as his uncles are still single after all this time he may be right. He is an ornery cuss & usually not overly friendly to the Pines family & their friends. He insists that the Corduroy on the logging game trophies is his dad, completely ignoring his aunt's name on them.

Special Talents: Natural lumberjack like the rest of the family.

Who they like better: His Dad and Grandfather

Who they take after more: His Dad and Grandfather

Personal Head canon: Marcus, the eldest of Wendy's brothers, only finished highschool at his father & sister's insistence. He married his highschool sweetheart two days after graduating and they had their son after that. Colin grew up idolizing his dad and Grandfather and joined them every chance he could. His dislike of his aunt & her family came from a mis-overheard conversation between them from when she was telling them about conservation efforts over a segment of the woods that the family business was to work in next. Feeling she abandoned the family he developed a dislike for her & her side of the family.

Name: Hairystone (14) Harry to his friends

Gender: Male

General Appearance: At 5'10" he is on average with a teen Manotaur. He has a single tuft of tan hair on his head, a full beard, & two patches of fur on his shoulders which contrast to the deep brown fur on the rest of his body. He has a scar on his right eye which he lost in the same gremgoblin incident that cost Antonio his leg. His towel/loincloth came from the Shack & has Mr Pines' emblem on it.

Personality: As with most teens he has rebelled against his upbringing (though this is heavily influenced by Pines family) & is living against the Manotaur ideals. He's not into the toxic masculinity that seems to be prevalent in Manotaur society. He has sought out peace with the Multibear & visits him regularly. Considers Antonio to be his best friend.

Special Talents: Miss Mabel taught him how to knit & spends his free time making items for the winter.

Who they like better: Chutzpar is his favorite member of the tribe.

Who they take after more: His second family (The Pines) mostly.

Personal Head canon: One day 14 years ago Leaderuar came into the mancave & gave Chutzpar the infant to his care. He sought advice from the only parents he knew, the Ramirezs. They helped out as much as they could & do did the Pines whenever they were visting from college. Lil Antonio took to him like a baby brother and they became fast friends. They were inseparable whenever Chutzpar visited the Shack (which was often as he had no idea how to raise a kid). It was during his 'Right to Manhood' trails that Harry lost his right eye and Antonio had his leg crushed. He blames himself and constantly tries to better himself to be able to protect his friends.

#gravity falls #sherriff Blubs #deputy durland #marcus corduroy #Chutzpar #next generation

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