#fiddleford mcgucket ← normal about this guy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nataliedanovelist · 3 years

Text

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.2

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

The BEAUTIFUL art pieces were done by @clownwry and @elishevart ! THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! 😭❤️💋

ch.1 - ch.3

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford was way more nervous than he was letting on.

She had long, pretty brown hair, braces over her teeth, sneakers, a skirt, and a sweater that allowed the cold air to pass through it. Her cheeks were slightly chubby with youth and nosy, as well as her nose, due to the freezing weather. Her eyes matched her hair perfectly, and though they were clouded with fear and confusion, Ford swore he could see sparkling behind the clouds, sparkling that made itself well-known when she asked if she could make him a sweater or when she saw his hands.

Ford would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy Mabel’s company, but she was practically a stranger, and keeping a random girl in his house that was located in the middle of the woods was fishy and Ford couldn’t help but feel like it was illegal. But he couldn’t leave her out in the snow and send her on her way to find her home and family, so he decided to keep her warm or healthy, simply because it was the right thing to do.

But then she said she had no parents to call. Only a brother, who was lost, too. Ford can remember the old rule: If you’re lost, stay where you are until you are found. So he then decided that she could stay here until her brother found her, which should be by morning at the latest.

Still, he felt uneasy, so once Mabel was settled in front of the TV, Ford excused himself and went into the kitchen to make a phone call. There was only one man who would have better judgement in this situation than him.

The phone rang a few times. Ford checked his watch to make sure it was a reasonable time to call. It wasn’t Sunday, was it? But then the ringing stopped. “Howdy! This here Fiddleford McGucket.”

“Hey there, buddy.” Ford smiled to himself at hearing that cheerful voice. “How have you been?”

“Stanford Pines! Good t’hear from ya!” Fiddleford cheered. “M’just fine, just fine! How are ya?! Ya haven’t gotten eaten by monsters yet, have ya?” He laughed, making his old friend chuckle along.

“No no, I’m alright.” Ford almost brought up the reason he called, but then he remembered something very important to Fiddleford. “How are Emma-May and Tater?”

“OH! They’re doin’ great! We’re all very happy n’ doin’ well! Ya won’t believe how big Tate’s gotten since ya last saw him! He’s already crawlin’!”

“Wow, that's great to hear.” Ford sat in a chair at the kitchen table. “Has he said his first words yet?”

“No, not quite. Actually, he’s extremely quiet. Not a lot of baby-babble.” Fiddleford chuckled. “The doctor says that’s perfectly normal. Tate’s so smart, he’s reachin’ for specific colors n’ such, n’ ya can tell he’s thinkin’ a lot n’ knows what’s goin’ on, he just got nothin’ t’say.”

“I was very shy when I was young.” Ford commented casually. He didn't feel like mentioning why. “If Tate is anything like either of his parents he’s very intelligent.”

“Oh, he’s so much like both of us it’s scary. Ya know Emma-May, so clever n’ quiet n’ such. Tate’s got all that. But he already looks so much like me! But he’s got his mama’s hair! N’ Santy Claus brought ‘im this fun little fishin’ game where ya fish for plastic fish with a pole with a magnet on it, n’ he loves it! I can’t wait to take ‘im fishin’ when he’s big enough! Ya really outta give yourself a break n’ come down for a visit, he’d move to see his Uncle Ford again.”

Ford’s face felt hot. “Perhaps. Spring is when a lot of anomalies are active and breeding, so i would prefer not to miss that, but maybe I could visit for a weekend before that…”

“Well, no pressure, I won’t assume anythang until ya tell me to, just know there’s always a bed for ya here.”

“Thank you, Fiddleford. The same for you and your family. The clean air will do everyone some good.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” Fiddleford sighed happily and perked up. “So! Whatcha callin’ for? Not that I’m not happy just t’chat, but ya never call.”

Ford laughed and shrugged to himself. “I suppose I don’t. I’m sorry.”

“No need t’be sorry, Stanford, just wanna know what’s up.”

“Well, I was hoping to get your advice on something.”

“Shoot.”

“Um… well…” Ford rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to tell him this. “I heard some unusual sounds outside today…”

“What kind of unusual sounds?”

“Cracks, like lightning. And some faint yelling.” Ford answered. “I thought it might be a tree branch or a new anomaly to catalogue, but when I opened the door a young girl was standing there in the snow with no coat.”

“Heavens! Is she alright?!”

“She’s okay, no frostbite. She was cold, but after sitting by the fire, drinking some hot chocolate, and changing into some dry clothes, she’s okay now.”

“Well, good.”

“So of course I brought her in. I tried to call her parents, she probably got lost playing…”

“Sure.”

“... but she says she doesn’t have any parents.”

“Oh.” Fiddleford sighed. “Oh. Now, wait, are ya sure she didn’t just say that so ya wouldn’t call?”

Ford chuckled and said, “I first thought that too, but she looked too sad to be lying.”

“Okay, I see. Does she got somebody ya can call?”

“She says she has a brother, but he was out there, too. So he is probably out there looking for her and therefore nowhere near a phone.”

“Fair enough, okay. So, I reckon y’all are waitin’ for him t’come ‘round.”

“Yup.”

“Well sounds to me like you’ve handled this all pretty well.” Fiddleford said confidently.

“You think so?” Ford asked. “I can’t help but feel like I’m doing something wrong. Like I’m missing something. Am I doing something wrong?”

“Nonsense, buddy, you’re doin’ great.” Fiddleford assured. “Look here, ya can’t just leave a young gurl out in the snow t’try t’find her way home...”

“I agree.”

“... so ya really got one option n’ that’s t’keep an eye on her n’ let her in as a guest. N’ ya tried t’call, but nothin’. The best thang ya can do right now is be there for this lil’lady n’ just be kind t’her. N’ if nobody comes for her by mornin’, why don’t ya go into town n’ see if anybody knows her, then they can help y’all out.”

Ford nodded, then remembered that his best friend couldn’t see it, so he said, “Yeah, that sounds like a good plan. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“You’re welcome. N’ hey, are ya okay?” He asked seriously.

“Yes, yes I’m okay. I just want to make sure I do this right.”

“O’course. I understand. Ya want me t’come down there n’ give a hand?”

“No, that’s not necessary. I’m sure Mabel will find her brother in the morning.”

“Mabel, huh? Well, if y’all don’t, please call me. N’ even if ya do find her brother, call me. Keep me updated.”

“I will. Thank you, Fiddleford.”

“Anytime, Stanford.”

~~~~~~~~~~

When Mr. Ford gave Mabel the remote for the old TV and went into the kitchen, she decided to use her awesome detective skills to figure out what year it was. If it was before Grunkle Stan lived here and opened the Mystery Shack, she must be pretty far back in time. But she had no way of knowing if it was 1999 or 2005 or the 50s.

The TV was old, but so was Grunkle Stan’s in her time. So Mr. Ford could have had this TV for a long time and didn’t want to replace it.

Okay, so when was the TV made? Mabel didn’t know. Dipper would have known.

Okay, Grunkle Stan mentioned watching TV when he was a kid once or twice. So at least Mabel was when Stan was a kid, okay.

Mabel turned the TV on and it was in color. Okay, so she wasn’t too far back in time. But the TV was playing a commercial for clear skin. The picture was gritty and all the people in it had puffy hair and long socks and oh my god was that woman wearing legwarmers?! Mabel grinned at seeing her favorite fashion on TV, but then her face dropped. When was she?

She tapped her chin and tried to think of how to know the date without being suspicious. She could ask Mr. Ford, but that might be suspicious. Mabel decided to start flicking through channels to try to guess what year she was in based on what was airing. A lot of shows were about cowboys, space, or game shows. Huh. Okay.

All the TV shows were definitely older. Nothing her dad would watch from when he was a kid, so if Mabel had to guess by everyone’s crazy air, the cheesy TV shows, and the music occasionally playing, she was in the 70s.

Huh. Okay. But she needed an exact year. So Mabel turned off the TV, saw an old radio on a desk, and turned it on to listen.

“... cuz it’s cold doesn’t mean you can't boogie, folks! So grab someone you wanna get warm with, turn up the music, and get your bodies warm in the coolest way possible! Here’s Night Fever, by the Bee Gees!”

Mabel grinned at the disco music. Her personal favorite song from these guys was More Than a Woman, but Night Fever would do. For a moment Mabel forgot her mission, jumped off the couch and left the blanket behind, and in the over-sized gray t-shirt Mr. Ford gave her while her clothes were drying, she danced along to the music, singing the chorus since those were the only words she knew.

“When you reach out for me. Yeah, and the feelin' is right,

Then I get night fever, night fever. We know how to do it! Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it!”

Mabel laughed at herself as she spun around in her socks and tried to do the point-and-hype dance she didn’t know the name to, but everyone did it when a disco song played.

Little did she know that Ford had returned to check on her, and was smiling at her as she shook her hips and waved her hair around and had fun. He leaned against the doorway and planned to let her dance in peace, but when she did a spin and saw him, she grinned and took his hand. “C’mon, Mr. Ford, come dance with me!”

Ford chuckled and shook his head. “No, no! I can’t dance!”

“You got two legs that aren’t broken?”

“Yes.”

“Then you can dance! C’mon!” Mabel encouraged, let him go when they were both in the middle of the room, and she started to dance again. “Don’t make me dance alone!” She even pulled an evil move and gave him puppy eyes. Rude.

Ford smiled slyly at her and hesitantly copied her boogie moves. It was true that Ford never liked to dance, but there was no one around but Mabel, and though he had only known her for an hour or more, he was sure she would never make fun of him.

And he was right.

“Wow! Look at you, Mr. I-Can’t-Dance! Yeah!” Mabel hopped on the couch, standing, and took Ford’s hand. “Here, I’ll spin you!”

Ford laughed and allowed it, doing a single spin, but then scooping her in his arms to dip her and then let her down, making her laugh as they continued to dance.

“Alright alright, you crazy cats, that was Night Fever by the Bee Gees! It's a snowy day here in the heart of Oregon, with snow flurries coming in harder all night, but it should clear up by morning and be a fun day to go out and play! The date is January 26th, 1978 in case you gotta write a check or mail a thank you note to a friend or family member. I’m still writing letters for Christmas! We’ll be right back with some of your favorites after a word or two from our sponsors, so don’t go anywhere!”

Mabel stared at the radio. “Wow, 1978.” She breathed. Her parents were only kids right now, maybe only six or seven-years-old. Wow.

Ford chuckled. “I know, I’m still in the bad habit of writing ‘77.”

Mabel realized her mistake, but was grateful her host misunderstood her. “Me too.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for dinner. How about some ramen noodles?”

“Yes, please! Can we play a game after we eat?”

“Sure. I don’t have many board games, but I do have a deck of cards.”

“Do you know any card tricks?!”

“A few.” Ford admitted, wiggling his fingers. “There are some advantages to having more fingers than average.”

Mabel grinned up at him and followed him to the kitchen for dinner.

#GF #fanfiction #gravity falls #gravity falls au #timestuck au #ford and mabel bonding #Fiddleford McGucket #dancing #night fever #snow day

238 notes · View notes

toothpastecanyon · 3 years

Text

A Name From the Mailbox, Chapter 4

Dipper finds out the author's name before Not What He Seems. It's not the person he expected.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

“The end times?”

The ride home had been strange so far. Dipper and Mabel exchanged glances before looking back at the old man sitting between them.

“There’s a doomsday device under Gravity Falls?” Dipper made a face. “No offense, but is this, uh, like the Gobblewonker situation?”

“It’s real! Look at these gravitational readings, kid!” He gestured at a matrix of numbers on the screen. “Waves of anomalies! And once it activates - you best be holding onto something, cause you’ll start floating up!”

Soos looked back. “Whoa. That sounds pretty cool, dude.”

“It’s not cool! It’s tearing a hole in our universe!”

“Aww.”

“Okay, okay, calm down,” Dipper raised a hand. “We can shut it down, right? Where is it?”

“Ohhh… I used to know, I don’t recall!”

“Maybe it’s in that old bunker?” Mabel sat forward. “We should go back there!”

“Maybe…” He frowned. “After the Shack, yeah.”

At that moment, Soos turned into the parking lot. Mabel’s frown deepened.

“Why after?”

“We’re already here, right? It’ll just take a second.” Dipper opened the door and jumped out. He held it for McGucket, and raised an eyebrow when Mabel remained in the car. “Mabel? Come on!”

“We should find the bunker, Dipper.”

“Yeah, we will, just-”

“We should go look for the bunker, now.” Mabel crossed her arms. “We just got told there’s a big scary thing that’s gonna end the world and you still want to look for Stan stuff? He’s not gonna know about a doomsday thingy.”

“Well, we don’t know that-”

“Dipper.”

Mabel was looking at him with a very knowing expression. He took one look at it, and then sighed.

“Well… if Stan’s the Author, he’s gotta know where it’ll be, right? He probably built it.” He watched Mabel raise her eyebrows. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Because I don’t think Grunkle Stan’s the Author, Dipper.” She pulled her hands into her sleeves. “You know that, right?”

Dipper hesitated. He looked back towards the house; Soos was opening the side door. “I mean, it’s very possible. And we’re already here, we might as well-”

Mabel got out of the car and pushed past him without a word. He frowned and hurried to catch up with her.

“Come on, Mabel. Don’t be like that.�� A pause. “I don’t think it’d be in the bunker anyways. We looked all over that place.”

“Hey, dude!” Soos waved him over. “What are we looking for? I forgot.”

“It’s…” Dipper glanced one more time at Mabel, then jogged forwards. “It’s a big stack of papers, it should be in the living room. Come on.”

They entered the kitchen, and Dipper suddenly froze - was Stan back? He listened for a couple seconds, but the house was silent… eerily silent. They headed into the living room and were greeted by an empty chair - and no thesis, no picture to show Fiddleford.

“Of course,” Dipper frowned. “Stan must’ve put them somewhere.”

“...What is this place?”

A strange question - he glanced over, and found McGucket looking around the room.

“Oh, it’s just our house,” he said, and then cleared his throat. “I bet he still has it somewhere. Soos, you know where he hides stuff, right?”

“Yeah… he says I’m supposed to keep them secret, though. Like the money under the squeaky step on the stairs, the arrest warrants under the rug in the gift shop…” He counted them off with his fingers. “The wallets in the Sascrotch…”

“Okay, cool, you can take the gift shop.” Dipper looked over at McGucket. “And, uh, take him too, I guess. Mabel and I- oh, you know where it might be? His office, we’ll go there.”

“Okay,” said Mabel. He cringed a bit at her tone, but continued.

“Alright, if we find it, we can meet back up. It’ll be hard to miss, it’s like a giant stack of paper, and it’ll have Stan’s picture on top.”

“Got it, dude.” Soos shot finger guns at him as he backed away. “Come on, McGucket, it’s this way.”

The two of them shuffled out of sight, and Dipper nodded to Mabel.

“Alright, let’s, uh, go.”

“Yeah, to the office.”

Mabel turned and started walking to the back. He trailed along behind her.

“Yeah, it’ll just be quick,” he said. Paused. Then: “It’s worth checking out. I mean, you saw the same stuff I saw. It’s not at least a little weird to you that he’s got a whole PhD on anomalous events even though he never-”

“Yeah, Dipper, you told me already.”

“Then why doesn’t it make sense to check it out?” He opened the door to the office. “If he’s not the author, then we can just go to the next thing, right?”

Mabel snorted. “Oh yeah, and you’re totally ready to let this go. I know you, dum dum. You’re gonna spend the rest of the summer obsessing about this, and not in a fun way. In the ‘arguing with Grunkle Stan every night’ way.”

“Well… well, it’s weird, isn’t it? Stan is hiding something.” He made a beeline for the paper shredder, and picked it up. “Look, look! This thing’s stuffed - ugh, I bet he shredded it! Now why do you think he’d do that?”

“I dunno?” Mabel poked at the paper copier. “Hey, do you remember that dance party we had? Maybe we could ask Grunkle Stan to throw another one!”

“Oh, that? Oh, that…” He started going through the papers scattered around the desk. “I remember that. I didn’t really get to spend a lot of time at it, I was, uh…”

“Trying to nerd your way into dancing with Wendy?”

“Yeah, yeah... Mabel, look!” He grabbed a piece of paper. “There’s one page he didn’t shred for some reason - and it’s the one with his picture! Yes!” He flipped it over to show her. “Look, it is him, right down to the glasses! And he’s building the Mystery Shack - tell me that’s not him!”

Mabel frowned at the photo. She started to open her mouth, but-

There was a sound. A yell. A cry. Both of them locked eyes, and without a word they ran for the gift shop.

“Are you guys okay?” Dipper said as he burst through the door. The first thing he saw was McGucket, on the floor, trembling. “McGucket?”

“I seen it!” McGucket stabbed a finger at - the vending machine? “I seen it, right down there! It’s there!”

“What’s here?” Mabel tried to help him up, but he scrambled away. “What’s wrong?”

“The machine… my mind… I’m not going down there again! You can’t make me!”

Then he bolted for the door. Soos tried to grab him, but he was gone in a flash, the door slamming shut behind him. Dipper blinked, and then looked to Soos.

“Uh… what happened?”

“I dunno, dude! One minute he was fine, I turn around and suddenly he’s freaking out!” Soos picked up a case on the counter. “He left his laptop, too.”

“Weird.” Mabel took it from him. “What do you think he saw? Dipper?”

Dipper wasn’t right beside her. He had walked a couple paces forward, towards the vending machine.

“Dipper?”

It looked normal, mundane. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d passed by this thing without sparing it a second glance. There was nothing really to draw the eye; no flashy colours, no display lights on the snacks, no attempt from Stan to dress it up as any sort of attraction. It was maybe the most normal looking thing in the gift shop, but…

He reached out. Felt the sides. There was decades’ worth of grime caught between the metal edge and the wooden wall, but as his fingers slid down, they came across something - a bump?

He looked.

A hinge.

______________________________________________________________

Shit. Shit, shit. Did he lose them?

Heart beating in his chest, Stan slowly raised himself up, and looked out the side of the van he was driving. Through the cracks in the grass, he could see lights from the highway silhouetting the trees he looked through. White lights - no red and blue, though it was harder to tell with the feds.

He grit his teeth, and forced his shoulders down. It had been quiet for a while. If they were gonna find him here, they would’ve done it by now.

“Alright, Stan,” he grunted. Opened the door. “Hard part’s done. Now I just need to get it home.”

He rubbed his forehead as he got out of the van; there was a split in it that had stopped bleeding not that long ago. He cast one look to the front, to the smoking engine crumpled into the side of a thick trunk, and limped his way to the back - past the side of the van that read ‘OFFICIAL WASTE DISPOSAL VEHICLE’ in large letters. He unlatched the rear doors, opened them, and shone a flashlight inside.

There was the shine of several metal cylinders. One of them had flown up a little in the collision and was resting sideways on the others. It looked like it had a pretty bad dent in it, but nothing looked to be leaking out; not noticeably, at least.

“Hmph.” He nodded a little. “I can work with this. Alright.”

There was a tarp and a couple construction signs thrown about the back; he covered the van, set up a few signs to keep away curious onlookers, then started off through the forest. It slow and dark, but, as he checked his watch, not dark for too much longer. The kids’d be up if he took too long, so he groaned and forced himself to walk a little faster.

Shouldn’t’ve tried to rush this job, he thought. Should’ve learned his lesson from Columbia. If the feds weren’t onto him before, they sure were now. Maybe he should get out of town for a bit, take the kids on a little road trip…

He made a face. Miss the portal opening, probably. Thirty years of work, and he might not even be there to see it pay off.

There was a tug and a ripping sound as his pantlegs brushed past a thorny bush, and he swore under his breath.

“Great. Just great.” Finally he trudged his way out onto the Shack’s parking lot. “Alright, focus. Gotta work quickly.”

Stan grabbed some supplies stashed by the outhouse and loaded them into his car. He put the seats back, started it, and drove right back to where he’d hit the trees; for once he was driving carefully, following the speed limit. Once he saw the flash of construction signs down in the forest, he turned off his headlights and drove slowly down to the van.

There, he stopped. Pulled the tarp off. The words emblazoned across the sides of the van were really gonna catch the eye of whoever found this thing; he took a can of spraypaint and quickly covered them, paused, and then replaced it with ‘PROPERTY OF TENT OF TELEPATHY’ After that, he opened the back and loaded as many drums of waste into his car that he could. When he ran out of space, he wrapped two in the tarp and tied them to the roof.

Stan tightened them one last time, and stepped back to catch his breath.

There. Now all he had to do was get home.

The sky was just barely beginning to lighten as Stan pulled back into the Mystery Shack. He pulled off his gloves as he made his way toward the gift shop, opened the door, and walked towards the vending machine.

Something did catch his eye, though. There was something on the register with a little red light; he picked it up, and immediately he could feel it was a little camera… A camera that was currently recording. Stan frowned at that, and looked up, up to the vending machine it was pointed at.

He had a bad feeling about this. And a second later when he heard a strange creak from the corner of the gift shop, he reached down, grasped the baseball bat leaning against the side of the counter, and made his way to the sound.

He stepped silently, avoiding the squeaky floorboards. There was definitely a figure in the corner, but… smaller than he was expecting. It didn’t look like an agent, actually, it looked more like…

“Kid?”

Dipper squinted when the flashlight came on. Stan breathed a sigh of relief - yup, it was just him - before a new fear started churning his stomach.

“What are you doing here kid? It’s late, you should be in bed!” He shone the flashlight lower. “Are those IDs? Did you go rooting through my room?”

“It is late. Where have you been, Grunkle Stan?”

Stan glanced back to his car. He really didn’t have time for this.

“And what happened to your face?”

“Eh… woodpecker.” Stan motioned him up. “Cmon, kid, off to bed with you. Your parents’d kill me if they found out how late you’re up.”

“Since when have you cared about how late we stay up?”

“Since right now, kid, so-“

“No!” Dipper crossed his arms, and there was a strange shine in his eyes. “What’s wrong with me sitting here? In this room?”

“Dipper.”

“You’re hiding something, aren’t you!”

“Dipper, you’re trying my patience.” He glanced back again. “Look, how about I cut you a deal. You go to bed, tomorrow we can have a proper talk about this, alright?”

“What, so you can tell me more about how you aren’t the Author?” He rose to his feet. “You know, ‘Stan’, at first I thought you weren’t telling me because you wanted to ‘protect me’ or whatever, but now I know what you’re up to. McGucket, he saw what the machine was gonna do to the world, but you kept going, didn’t you?”

“McGucket? What?”

“It’s too late to play dumb, Stan! I know what you’re really hiding. There’s a doomsday machine under the Mystery Shack!”

Stan heard that, and the first thing that came out of his mouth was a startled snort. “What?” He managed. “You spent this whole time trying to figure me out, and you came up with that?”

But the look in his eyes… wow, he was serious about this, wasn’t he?

“You really think I’m building a doomsday machine?” Stan laughed again, but it rang hollow against Dipper’s unsmiling expression. “Have a little faith in me, kid, come on. I’m not trying to end the world.”

“You’re lying.” He said, trying to puff out his chest. “And I’m not gonna let you do this. I’m gonna stop you.”

At that, Stan let out a deep sigh. He looked up at the first morning rays peeking through the blinders, and then back at his nephew.

“Go to bed, kid.”

“No. I’m gonna stay here, I’m- hey!”

In one move, Stan picked him up and hoisted him over his shoulder. He started towards the back, wincing a bit as Dipper pounded on his shoulder.

“Let me go, Grunkle Stan! Let me go!”

Up the stairs. Dipper tried to wiggle out of his grip, but he held him firmly in place.

“You’ve just proved I’m right, you know! You’re not gonna get away with this!”

Stan made his way up to the attic, opened the door, and set dipper down in the bedroom. He blocked Dipper from squeezing past him as he started swinging it closed.

“Stan!”

“We’ll talk about this tomorrow. You get some rest.” As the gap narrowed, he saw the light landing on Mabel’s bed. She almost looked asleep, but he could see her staring back at him. “Night, kids.”

Then he shut the door, turned the lock… and after a second of hesitation he dragged a chair over and slotted it under the handle. A bit extreme, he thought, but the kid was smart. Tonight wasn’t the night to take chances.

Stan backed away, and started back down the steps.

He was so close, now. So close.

And no one was going to get in his way.

Hours later, when Dipper was slumped half-asleep against the door, he grunted at a strange light. It wasn’t like the sunlight; it was strangely blue, and as he bolted up and rubbed his eyes, he could see it shining up from between the floorboards.

Then he felt… strange. Light. He yelped as his feet suddenly left the ground, and suddenly everything in their bedroom was starting to float up, up; McGucket’s laptop, slowly spinning in the air, beeped and displayed a message that made his blood go cold:

MACHINE STATUS: ACTIVE

And then suddenly the weightlessness vanished, and he dropped back down, scrambled over to the laptop.

“Oh, no, no, no,” he said, his face lit red from warning signs. “Stan, what are you doing?”

#gravity falls #toothwrites #dipper pines #mabel pines #stan pines

17 notes · View notes

brillsstuff · 3 years

Text

Because I’m me, and this is Tumbler, I decided I’d like to share yet another one of my AUs with you guys.

It’s called Starless Falls, and the main crux of it is that Dipper and Mabel never go to Gravity Falls.

So Stan loses the Shack to Gideon really early. Since Dipper and Mabel aren’t around to stop him. He doesn’t leave town, and does his best to get it back (because Shack and Ford) though he never does.

Gideon doesn’t summon Bill right away. Being Gideon he tears down every little bit of the Shack to find Journal 1, which he eventually does after discovering the basement. He thinks that that’s it, and he’s discovered all of the Author’s secrets.

Eventually he does call upon our (least)favorite dream demon. And Bill’s all like, “Hey kid I like your style... but did you know that there’s another Journal? And it helps you run the random portal you found in the basement? And if you open up the portal it’ll lead you to unimaginable power and stuff!”

Bill shows Gideon where Journal 3 is, and of course Gideon uses it to run the portal. But... the unimaginable power Bill was talking about was... well... Bill. Hence Weirdmageddon.

Stan is one of the people helping out the townsfolk during the Oddpocalypse. Since he’s got the whole “Eh, monsters raining down from the sky isn’t half as weird as the stuff I’ve seen” attitude. So he’s making due with Fiddleford and the Society of the blind eye, who are erasing the memories of the monsters trying to eat everyone.

Bill find out about the barrier about the same time (which is dead) he does in canon. And he’s all like, “Man, being stuck sucks. I wonder who would know how to take down magic stuff... I think I know a guy!”

And thus Ford is brought back to his dimension. Bill gives him the ultimatum of “Help me out or face the worst pain in your life” and Ford goes down his normal hero route.

Eventually the survivors decide that enough is enough. So Stan and about two dozen others (with the help of McGucket’s robot of course) go to rescue the other townsfolk. And lo and behold what do they find? Ford.

Stan sees Ford for the first time in thirty years, and he’s chained up, tortured, and looks like he’s gonna die any minute now. But Ford’s all like, “What took you so long? Thought you could ignore me? Dude there’s this zodiac thing we’ve got to try.” And of course he can’t get a lot of talking out through Stan’s bear hug.

They find someone to replace Dipper and Mabel (since the symbols aren’t literal) and they all live happily ever after. Except Gideon. He’s the worst.

I hope you guys like that! Feel free to ask me questions about it (if you have any).

#gravity falls au #gravity falls #new au i guess #new au idea #starless falls #stanford pines #stanley pines #gideon gleeful #bill cipher

28 notes · View notes

kingofthewilderwest · 3 years

Note

For the fandom asks! Perhaps 1, 2, and/or 20? Feel free to answer any mix of those 😂

Yay thanks for the prompts! :D I’ll do all of ’em. The more of these I do, the less I have to pay attention to my job tonight. ;) ;) ;)

Fandom Asks Memes

1. If you could hit any character without repercussions, who would it be?

For starters? Shou Tucker.

2. What fandoms were a part of that you aren’t any longer?

This is an interesting one. Prior to joining tumblr in 2014, my interactions with fiction were always cyclical. I’d go in and out of interest, dancing around to whatever caught my attention at the time. When I joined tumblr, my enthusiasm in HTTYD led me to being a HTTYD fandom analysis blog. This kept me much longer and deeper into HTTYD than I would naturally have been in otherwise.

Emotionally, I still think of myself as a go-here-and-go-there person. I’ll always love everything; my attention will just focus on different things at different times. I’ve gone through periods of enthusiasm for Star Wars, Star Trek, MCU, How to Train Your Dragon, Undertale, Mass Effect, Voltron: Legendary Defender (and the broader Voltron franchise), Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (and the broader FMA franchise), Deponia, Gravity Falls, and more. Currently, most of those don’t trip my emotional trigger, but they may be back later.

At the moment, I’m more likely to respond with interest to conversation about Gravity Falls or maybe Deponia or Mass Effect, but the others I’ll be like, “Eh,” for now. I’m very “eh” about HTTYD, MCU, and SW. Well, the thing I’m *ACTUALLY* into now is first generation bluegrass, buuuuuuuuuut... that’s not exactly a normal tumblr topic, so to try to save you guys from any unwanted banjo enthusiasm, I’ve moved my interest to a sideblog. But if you’re interested in me talking about country music in depth or in weird ways (no prior experience in country music necessary), feel free to check it out, send me a message or ask or topic to talk about, or whatnot! I’m only just getting started on the blog so there’s much I’ll be doing and haven’t done yet, but I’d enjoy being interactive with others if you actually were interested in my admittedly fucktastically niche interest. And I’ll be rather happy to interact with someone else about my latest passion. XD

20. Name a song that reminds you heavily of a specific fandom or character.

Touch-Tone Telephone by Lemon Demon. Perfect description of Gravity Falls Journal #3 times. I could analyze, line-by-line, in DEEEEPTH, how this song sounds to me like it captures Ford Pines and his relationship with his two “research partners,” Bill Cipher and Fiddleford McGucket, and how Ford gets drawn into his obsession of paranormal research and finding a portal to another dimension where he can make contact with a whole new civilization of weirdness.

“I've been working on a unified theory. If I make it through tonight everybody's gonna hear me out, 'cause I'm the right one. . . I'm an expert, I'm the one--the one who was right all along. Better to be laughed at than wrong. I'm an expert in my field UFOlogy, yes, it's all real. Ancient aliens, it's all true; I'm an expert just like you. And like you, I'm a genius before my time. Disbelieving, that's the real crime.”

It’s certainly a different interpretation than what was intended by Neil Cicierega when he wrote it, but it translates SO FREAKING WELLLLLL into a Gravity Falls interpretation.

#Fandom Asks Meme #GF #Gravity Falls #Lemon Demon #FMA #FMAB #Fullmetal Alchemist #Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood #Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood #Bill Cipher #Ford Pines #Stanford Pines #Fiddleford McGucket #Shou Tucker #ask #ask me #analysis #my analysis #Anonymous

12 notes · View notes

orangeoctopi7 · 4 years

Text

A Turning Point

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Part 10

The morning broke clear and bright. Stan had plenty of experience sleeping on the ground, so he was actually well-rested. When the first piercing birdsongs woke him, he sat up, stretched, and looked around at his compatriots. Of course, they were both still sound asleep. That wasn't surprising. McGucket had really worn himself out yesterday, and Ford had apparently learned to appreciate sleep over the past decade or so, given how grumpy he was every time Stan woke him.

Actually, this was probably Stan's best opportunity to talk to McGucket about what had happened to Ford yesterday. He hated to wake the guy after he'd obviously been working so hard, but it wasn't like they'd be able to talk about it in the car later, and frankly, Stan wanted to have this conversation sooner rather than later. He leaned over and poked the inventor's sleeping bag.

"Hey, hey Fidds, wake up!" He whispered.

Fiddleford poked his head out and blinked awake blearily.

"Whoa! What happened to your face!?" Stan yelped in surprise, forgetting to keep his voice down.

"Wha? What's wrong wi'my face!?" McGucket panicked into full wakefulness and started patting his cheeks.

"You grew a full beard overnight!"

"Oh." The inventor calmed down immediately. "That's normal. I got a genetic condition, makes my facial hair grow three times faster'n average. Is that all you woke me up for?"

"No, the beard just caught me off-guard. I wanted to talk about what happened with Ford yesterday in the UFO."

Fiddleford glanced over at Stanford. Luckily Stanley's outburst hadn't woken him. "Alright. Lemme grab my shaving kit, we'll talk outside of camp."

They found a low-hanging branch a few meters outside of camp where McGucket could hang his mirror and a small bucket of water.

"It jus' didn't seem like the sorta thing Ford would do." He explained as he lathered up some shaving cream. "When we was in University together, he never put much stock in that metaphysical, in-tune-with-the-universe type stuff, despite the fact that he was subscribed to every cryptid publication in the country."

"Yeah, he didn't believe in that stuff when we were kids either. I mean, our mom was a phony psychic, we knew all that stuff was crap."

"Well, apparently not. Somethin' led him to that engine room, and given what all I've seen here, I ain't even that surprised anymore."

"Oh, something led him there alright, but I don't think it was the universe or whatever. I think he was actually communicating with something."

Fiddleford turned pale and almost nicked himself with his razor. "Ford mentioned ghosts. Y'don't reckon those aliens are still… y'know, still around?"

"What? No." Stan explained how a strange new version of his spider-sense had been bothering him since he first arrived in Gravity Falls. How it always seemed to be centered around Ford. How he'd used the light filtration goggles to try and figure out what it was, and seen the little one-eyed yellow triangle depicted all over the house come out of Ford's head.

"So you think Ford's been in contact with that creepy cryptid?"

"Yeah, isn't it obvious? I've seen the thing twice now!"

"Hmm, it'd certainly explain a few things… but any two points make a line."

"You can't seriously think it's just a coincidence!"

"Now calm down, I ain't saying I don't believe ya. There's certainly some kinda correlation. I'm just sayin' we need more data."

Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. "I tried to ask Ford about it while you were gone. All I got outta him was that it's some sorta knowledge-giver. Then that twingey sense came back and he clammed up. I think that thing showed up and told him not to spill the beans."

"I'm afraid I don't know much about it myself." Fiddleford frowned, carefully shaving all the hairs off his upper lip. "It's a symbol that's been found all over the world. I do know it's been found on a lotta Native American artefacts here in the valley. Maybe if you spoke to an expert like a tribal elder or historian, they'd be able to tell you what it is."

"Yeah, well, whatever it is, I don't think it's a new development. You remember what he said back there about a little help from a friend? He said the same thing before about getting around a roadblock in his studies after he first found the UFO. And while you were on vacation, he kinda implied he wasn't up here alone before you moved in. I think this has been going on for a while. Maybe even years. Did you ever notice anything weird right after you moved in?"

"Other than that creepy triangle symbol everywhere? Not really…"

"What are you two doing out here?" Ford asked behind them. They both jumped; they'd been so deep in their conversation, they hadn't noticed him coming their way.

"Jehosaphat, Ford!" McGucket pressed his thumb over where he'd nicked his cheek. "Don't sneak up on us like that!"

"Well maybe you two shouldn't sneak off without telling me!" Ford shot back.

"What? Heh, we didn't sneak off." Stan assured him with a nervous chuckle. "I was just, uh, watching Fidds here shave. Wow, you really have to shave that much every day?"

"Heh, yep, either that or I'll have a beard as long as a necktie by the end of the month."

Ford looked at them both skeptically. "You're sure you weren't discussing anything behind my back?"

"PCH, no!" Stan scoffed forcefully.

Ford didn't look convinced. "Stan, I need your help gathering all our equipment back up. Fiddleford, once you're done, I expect you to come help too."

* * *

Once they were all packed up, Ford suggested taking a short-cut back to the truck, following some sort of game trail. The others went along with him, if only because they felt bad about talking behind his back earlier.

It was a peaceful morning, until Stan heard a strange rumbling sound coming from further down the trail. He halted in his tracks.

"What is it?" Ford asked.

"Sounds like something's on the trail that way." Stan explained. "Maybe we should go around."

"I'll go check it out." Ford took another step forward.

"Uh, Ford, maybe you should let the guy with super strength go check it out." McGucket suggested.

"You really think I'm going to let Stanley have all the fun just because he has super powers?" Ford scoffed and forged ahead.

The two of them waited about five minutes before Ford returned, an eager grin on his face and his Journal out, ready to take notes.

“You two have to see this! Come on!” He whispered excitedly, waving them down the path.

A few meters down the path, around a clump of trees, Ford stopped, pointing at what first appeared to be a pile of fungus-encrusted boulders. When it moved up and down slowly, they realized it was a sleeping creature, and a closer look revealed long tusks, sharp claws, and huge pointed ears.

“I can’t believe we actually found a Gremloblin!” The scientist continued giddily. “This is one of the most rare creatures in all of Gravity Falls, I’ve only ever heard tales of them from the gnomes, it’s much uglier than I expected! Supposedly, if you look into its eyes, you’ll see your worst fear.”

Fiddleford gulped. “How about we leave it be, then.”

Ford scoffed. “Don’t worry, it’s fast asleep. I may never get another opportunity to study this creature up close!” He sat down and began sketching.

“Hey, y’know what’d be faster? Just take a picture and let’s get out of here.” Stan suggested.

“I didn’t bring a camera.” Ford said simply.

“Are you kidding me? We practically packed everything but the kitchen sink, and you didn’t bring a camera!?” Stan hissed.

“I don’t want any photographic record of Crash Site Omega. And besides, I like to sketch.”

“Well I like to not be attacked by a hulking beast that’ll show your worst fear. Let’s go before it wakes up!”

Ford rolled his eyes. “It’s not going to wake up! They’re supposed to be very heavy sleepers, it should be fine as long as none of us disturb it.”

“P-please, Ford, let’s just move along and not tempt fate.” Fiddleford pleaded, cowering behind a large tree.

“We can go as soon as I finish this sketch.” Ford assured them.

And so they sat there for a few minutes; the only sounds were the scratching of Ford’s pen and the Gremloblin’s rumbling snores. Just as the researcher was taking note of the grooved claws, and theorizing about their function, a high-pitched whistle pierced the air. Fiddleford, who had been carrying the hyperdrive, had been clutching the device so tightly in his anxiety, that he'd set off some sort of alarm. He banged his fist against the machine, trying to stop the noise, but it was too late.

The Gremloblin awoke with a snarl and pounced at McGucket, immediately scooping him up in its claws and staring into his eyes. Both the monster and the inventor's eyes took on a pale yellow glow.

"I told you. I told you this would happen!" Stan yelled at his brother.

"Not the time, Stanley!" Ford snapped back. The first thing he could think to do was throw the nearest object at the beast to distract it. The nearest object just so happened to be his canteen, as he'd just been drinking from it. The lid hadn't been screwed on tight, and water splashed all over the creature as the container bonked off its head.

The Gremloblin was distracted enough that it looked away from McGucket, but it didn't let him go. Instead, the creature flexed as it grew enormous spines, quills, and wings out of its back. With a mighty flap, it was airborne, a still whimpering McGucket in its claws.

"Way to go, genius." Stan snarked, strapping on his web shooters and swinging after the monster through the trees.

"Stan, wait, you don't know what this thing is capable of!" Ford shouted after him.

"Obviously you don't either!" Stan shouted over his shoulder.

Ford grit his teeth as he sprinted after them, branches and thorns tearing at his clothes and skin. Stan couldn't wait just thirty seconds for him to explain that the monster's claws were probably poisonous, or that its head was relatively unprotected. He couldn't even slow down to let his brother explain these things as they ran. No. He had to swing ahead with no plan and no idea of what he was up against.

Ford was about to lose sight of the Gremloblin, when Stan webbed up the monster's wings. It plummeted to the ground with a screech, crashing to the ground at the top of a nearby cliff. The researcher picked up the pace as he watched his brother tackle the creature. In the scuffle, it dropped McGucket and the hyperdrive, but the two combatants also careened over the edge.

"Stanley!!" Ford cried, rushing through the trees to the foot of the cliff. When he finally broke through the underbrush, he found his brother fighting hand-to-hand with the Gremloblin. Stan had already sustained a few scrapes across his forearms, and it looked like he was trying to box the creature into submission. It wasn't going well.

Stan's movements and superhuman reflexes seemed to be slowing, and the monster got another swing in at him, raking its claws across his chest.

Ford cast his eyes about frantically, searching for some way he could help. A glint of light at the top of the cliff caught his eye. It was the hyperdrive! It was sitting just near the edge of the cliff, right above the Gremloblin's head. He pulled out his magnet gun and took aim.

"Stanley, step back!" Ford warned his brother as he pulled the trigger. The hyperdrive zipped off the cliff face and collided with the Gremloblin's head, narrowly avoiding Stan. The Gremloblin fell to the ground with a thud, knocked out-cold.

"Are you ok?" The researcher asked as he rushed up to his brother in concern.

"Fine, fine." Stan waved him off with one hand, holding the other arm to the scrape across his chest.

"Good." Ford smacked him upside the head. "What were you thinking, knucklehead? You could've gotten yourself or Fiddleford killed!"

"There wasn't time to think, genius, I had to do something before that monster flew off with Fidds!"

"Yes, the fact that you weren't thinking is obvious." Ford growled. "Come on, we need to make sure Fiddleford is alright."

They were able to scale the cliff in a matter of seconds with the web shooters. McGucket was curled up in the fetal position, quivering with fear and babbling frantically to no one in particular.

"Fiddleford!" Stanford rushed to his friend's side.

"D-don't take 'em away, I ain't h-hurt n-nobody… I ain't… I ain't like that… n-no don't! ... he's jus' a boy… n-needs his daddy…"

"It's ok, you're safe now." Ford tried to hold his friend's hand reassuringly, but McGucket didn't seem able to grasp it. He didn't even seem to notice his friends were there. He just continued muttering like he was in the midst of a nightmare.

Ford frowned and gently took his friend's arm, carefully feeling for injuries.

"It's broken." He shot a glare over his shoulder at Stan.

"What's that look for!?" Stan asked.

"He wouldn't have been injured if you hadn't forced the Gremloblin to crash land!"

Stan gave an exasperated snort. "Look, I had to act fast or that thing was gonna get away with Fidds, so I took a risk. I'd like to see you do any better in the same position!"

"Well I didn't get a chance to do any better because you rushed off without me!"

"Again, no time! And news flash, genius, this wouldn't've happened if you had just moved on and left the giant monster alone like we told you to!"

Ford scoffed and carefully lifted McGucket off the ground. "How was I supposed to know the alarm was still active? It would have been fine, otherwise."

"You're unbelievable." Stan rolled his eyes and leaned down to pick up the hyperdrive, but instead he… missed.

"...Huh…" Stan rubbed his eyes and tried to pick up the machine again. Once again, he just grabbed the air beside it.

"Stanley, did you hit your head in the fight?"

"No, mom, I didn't hit my head! I just got a headache, it's makin' my vision a little blurry is all."

Ford looked him over in concern, noting that many of the claw marks the Gremloblin had given Stan had broken the skin.

"I believe the Gremloblin's claws may be poisonous. You're probably suffering the side effects of some sort of toxin. Come on, we need to get you both back to the lab for treatment as soon as possible. Here, hold out your arms."

Stan held out his arms uncertainly. Ford carefully transferred McGucket into them. "I'll carry the hyperdrive for now. Let me know if you feel like you're going to drop him."

"What about the rest of our gear?" Stan asked. "We left it back in the clearing where you found that thing."

"We'll have to come back for it later." Ford assured him. "It'll only slow us down now, and besides, the hyperdrive is the only thing I'd be really worried about leaving out in the open."

As they made their way down the mountain, Ford found he needed to steer Stanley out of the way of trees or rocks with increasing frequency. At least he could still walk. Fiddleford remained catatonic, and the researcher doubted he could carry both his brother and his friend.

* * *

In the end, they managed to get home before Stan passed out. After doing his best to treat McGucket for shock, Ford took a blood sample to try and determine what kind of toxin the Gremloblin had in its claws. It was a neurotoxin, but thankfully, it seemed that Stan's spider powers had already developed an antitoxin to combat it. He'd be fine after a good night's rest.

It took another hour or so to treat both their wounds, and by the time he finished they were both fast asleep. He was quite eager to join them. He fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.

"SHEESH, WHAT A DAY, AM I RIGHT?" Ford was too tired to even be surprised by Bill's visit. “ALL THE WORK TO GET THE HYPERDRIVE, AND THEN YOU HAVE TO DROP THE THING ON A GREMLOBLIN’S HEAD.”

"An unqualified disaster, yes." Ford agreed. "But at least no lasting damage was done, and we got the hyperdrive back in one piece."

"TRUE, BUT ALL OF THIS COULD HAVE BEEN AVOIDED."

Ford felt his temper flare. It was bad enough that Stanley was blaming him for all of this, now Bill had to lay on the guilt too?

"It is my job to study the anomalies in this valley! Excuse me for trying to do it!"

"OH, THAT'S NOT WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!" Bill laughed. "YOU WERE RIGHT EARLIER. YOU COULD HAVE DONE BETTER, IF YOU'D HAD THE CHANCE. IT'S LIKE I'VE BEEN TELLING YOU, STANFORD. YOU'D MAKE A MUCH BETTER HERO THAN YOUR BROTHER. YOU WOULD HAVE STOPPED AND THOUGHT ABOUT YOUR OPTIONS. YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN TO LOOK OUT FOR THE GREMLOBLIN'S CLAWS. YOU WOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER THAN TO ATTACK ITS WINGS WHILE IT WAS FLYING. YOU WOULDN'T HAVE GOTTEN YOUR ASSISTANT'S ARM BROKEN."

"Well, maybe so." Ford nodded in agreement. "But I'm still not sure if I want that kind of responsibility…. I'm not sure I want to change like that."

"I GET IT, YOU DON'T WANT TO BE EVEN MORE OF A FREAK THAN YOU ALREADY ARE. UNDERSTANDABLE." Bill patted him on the head like someone might pet a dog. "DON'T WORRY, I'VE BEEN WORKING ON THAT. IT SHOULD BE ARRIVING IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS."

"You… ordered something for me in the mail?" Ford asked in confusion.

"HAHAH, NOT EXACTLY, BUT I GUESS THAT'S THE CLOSEST APPROXIMATION YOU FLESH BAGS HAVE."

“Bill, I appreciate that you’re trying to help, but I really don’t know--”

“OH COME ON, SIXER, AFTER I WENT THROUGH THE TROUBLE TO FIND THIS THING AND SEND IT YOUR WAY, THE LEAST YOU COULD DO IS TRY IT OUT! AND YOU’VE GOT THE NEXT COUPLE OF DAYS TO DECIDE IF YOU REALLY WANT IT.”

“Well, I suppose that’s alright… and if it’s something that doesn’t cause a physical change in me, I don’t see why I couldn’t at least give it a try.”

"THAT'S THE SPIRIT, SIXER! TRUST ME, YOU'RE GONNA WANT IT! YOU'LL BE THE KIND OF HERO THIS WORLD DESERVES!"

GI GUGFOVUC PPNTZY, SHB V’BX BVNZQ OM WRA PNBX MFZM JKBLU CALIAICBOVITF JVLR KYZVPBF. SHLV NOTXXMJVDR HXBRIQBX, EYJF ARRY WFABEUE, U KRVQKGWP GW QU ZIFSG QGGWVF QA VNVCVK… V’S LOIR QG’Y GIKUQAM LNRANBXW HVRLF ZH EEBE NHHOK.

#Gravity Falls #Fanfiction #Stanford Pines #Stanley Pines #Fiddleford Mcgucket #Bill Cipher #My Writing #Spider Stan AU #SpiderStan AU

16 notes · View notes

thelastspeecher · 4 years

Text

Genie Gucks

I recently got into an Angenie AU mood, and so we’ve been talking about it on the Discord lately. As per usual, talking about something on the Discord inspired me and I ended up writing a thing. Well, mostly writing a thing. Then I lost some steam and couldn’t finish it. But I forced myself to finish it today, so here it is.

This ficlet takes place directly following this one.

——————————————————————————————

Stan finished moving Fiddlesticks or whatever his name was to the couch and tossed Angie’s blanket over his prone body. He turned around.

“All right, Angie, what’s-” he started. The sentence died on his tongue. Tear tracks shone on Angie’s cheeks. Her entire body was shaking.

Even when I first freed her from her bottle, she wasn’t this upset. Stan placed his hands on Angie’s thin shoulders.

“Let’s get you something hot or alcoholic to drink, okay? Then you’ve gotta explain to me what the hell is going on.” Angie nodded numbly. Stan took her hand and led her out of the room, then down an empty hallway. They arrived at the living room. “Um, kitchen’s probably this way,” Stan mumbled to himself, walking through the living room. “I was right!” Stan stopped in the kitchen entryway. “Yeesh.”

“Goodness,” Angie said in a trembling voice. They stared at the kitchen. There wasn’t a square inch of clean surface in the entire room. Pots and pans coated in something resembling tar were fermenting in the sink, and an incredibly unpleasant odor emanated from the fridge.

“What the hell happened?” Stan asked. Angie pursed her lips. “What?”

“Give me a sec.” Angie closed her eyes in concentration. Stan sighed.

“Ang, if you try to make it better with magic, you might make it-” There was a flash of light. Stan blinked away the afterimages. Faint golden sparkled twinkled out of existence in the now spotless kitchen. Stan’s jaw dropped. He looked at Angie. She seemed similarly astounded.

“That worked much better than I expected,” she said after a moment. “But I prob’ly shouldn’t try anything else.”

“Yeah. Don’t wanna push your luck. Go sit down. I’ll find you something.” Angie walked over to the table and took a seat. Stan opened the fridge. “…There’s nothing in here.”

“I set up the spell to get rid of anything that was expired,” Angie said. Stan walked over to the cupboards and opened them. Like the fridge, they were bare.

“Jeez Louise, even I couldn’t muck up a place so bad that literally every piece of food or drink was expired.” Stan closed the cupboards. “Ford was really…” He shook his head. “Never mind.” He joined Angie at the table, sitting across from her. “All right. No drinks, but you seem like you calmed down a bit.” Angie nodded. “Talk.”

“I don’t know where to start,” Angie said softly. Stan sighed.

“Okay, how about you start with that homeless guy, Fiddlesticks? How do you know him?”

“It’s Fiddleford. And he’s…my brother.”

“He’s-” Stan gaped. “That hobo’s a genie?”

“No.” Angie played with her hair anxiously. “He’s human.”

“But he’s your brother.”

“Yes.”

“Is this like, an adoption situation, or-”

“No, we’re blood related.” Angie took a breath. She stopped playing with her hair and set her hands palm down on the table. “I wasn’t always a genie.” Stan leaned back and waited for her to elaborate. “I was a normal human. Grew up in a big fam’ly, went to school, the whole nine yards. But one day, I was back at home fer a visit, and I went into my parents’ room fer somethin’. I opened the drawer in my ma’s bedside table, and there was this oil lamp sittin’ there. I touched it. There was a flash of light.” She fell silent.

“Then what happened?” Stan asked.

“You freed me from my bottle.”

“You- hang on.” Stan leaned forward. “You touched some oil lamp, and then basically blacked out until I found your bottle and let you loose?” Angie nodded. “That doesn’t sound right.”

“It’s the truth!”

“No, I believe you. You’re a shitty liar.” Angie rolled her eyes. “But I mean…” Stan chewed on the inside of his cheek. “I don’t know anything about magic, but it seems like you can’t just turn into a genie when you touch an oil lamp. Otherwise, we’d be drowning in genies.”

“That’s a good point,” Angie said. “But I don’t know anything else except for what I told you.”

“Yeah.” Stan ran a hand through his hair. “Well, now you being a shitty genie finally makes sense. You’re brand-new to it. I thought there was something weird about someone as smart as you being so bad at your job.” Angie frowned thoughtfully.

“…Thank you?”

“Hang on.” Stan sat up straight. “That fiddle guy is your brother.”

“Yes.”

“You said you have a big family.”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you bother to contact them?” Stan asked. Angie looked down. “I mean, I gave you your freedom ages ago, and you ended up just traveling the world with me, instead of letting your family know you were safe?”

“Yer not really one to talk about fam’ly dynamics.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, my family’s fucked up, whatever. Answer the question.”

“I…” Angie looked away. “What would I tell them? I got turned into a genie and found by a criminal in the Middle East? They’d- they’d sent me to a mental institution.” She sniffed. “But yer right. I should- I should get a hold of ‘em. They need to know I’m safe, and I’d like some answers about Fiddleford.” She reached out for one of his hands and squeezed. “Thank you, darlin’.”

“No problem, babe.”

-----

Stan paced back and forth behind Angie’s chair, watching her dial a number into the cordless phone she’d managed to dig up from somewhere. Once the number was dialed, she pressed the speakerphone button and set the phone down. There were a few rings before someone picked up.

“McGucket residence, Lute speakin’,” a voice drawled. Angie took a shuddering breath. “Hello?” Stan nudged Angie.

“Lute,” Angie whispered. The reaction was immediate.

“Angie?!” the person – Lute – screeched. Stan and Angie winced at the pitch and volume.

“Yes, it’s me, please don’t shout like that,” Angie said.

“Wh- h- how can ya expect me to not have a large response to hearin’ my baby sister’s voice? You’ve been missin’ fer-”

“Some time, I know,” Angie said softly.

“One sec, I’m goin’ to fetch Ma ‘n Pa.” There was a rustling on the other end, then faint shouting. “Ma, Pa, Angie’s on the phone!” Muffled voices responded. “Angie, where have ya been?”

“I think I’ll wait to explain once Ma ‘n Pa-”

“We’re here, sweetie,” a woman’s voice said. There was a beep. “Okay. Yer on speakerphone now.”

“Junebug, where have ya been?” a man’s voice asked. Angie closed her eyes.

“Well, at first, the…the Middle East.” Silence fell. “Hello?”

“Ma, what’s with that expression?” Lute asked. Angie leaned in.

“What’s goin’ on?”

“Sally, are ya thinkin’ what I think yer thinkin’?” the man asked quietly.

“…Yes,” the woman said. “Angie, ‘fore ya talk more, I need to ask ya somethin’. Did ya ever happen to find an old oil lamp in my room?”

“Yes.”

“And ya touched it?”

“Yes. That’s- that’s actually what started this whole mess.”

“Sally, I thought you said that the kids weren’t-”

“I thought they weren’t!”

“Look, I don’t know what’s happenin’ on yer end, but I just- I need to tell ya where I’ve been,” Angie said desperately. “I was-”

“No, you can tell us in person.”

“In- Ma, I’m in Oregon right now! Do ya really want to wait until I get to Arkansas or you get here?” Angie asked. She rubbed her forehead.

“Where abouts in Oregon?”

“Gravity Falls.”

“I need an address, sweetie.”

“618 Gopher Road. I-” The phone went dead. Angie looked at Stan. “What on Earth was that?”

“How should I know? They’re your family.”

“Yes, but-” There was a loud thump. “Think Fidds woke up?”

“No, I think that came from out front,” Stan said. “We should probably check it out.” Angie nodded and stood. They made their way to the front door. When they opened the door, Angie let out a loud gasp. Three people stood on the lawn. Or rather, two people stood, and the third was hunched over, visibly trying not to vomit. “What the-”

“Sally, I hate it when ya do that,” choked out the man who was bent over.

“Sorry, darlin’,” the woman said, rubbing his back gently. “I didn’t have a choice.” The other man on the lawn, much younger than the one fighting not to hurl, looked around, confused.

“What-” The man’s eyes landed on Angie. “Angie!” Angie let out a choked sob.

“Lute!” She ran over to Lute and wrapped her arms around him in a tight embrace. Stan watched from the porch, discomfort uncurling in his stomach.

“Banjey,” said the older man, who seemed to have recovered from his bout of nausea. He and the woman joined in on the hug between Angie and Lute. “Oh, my baby girl, we’ve been so worried.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t contact y’all sooner, I was- I was scared to tell ya what happened to me,” Angie said softly. She broke off from the hug. “But…how did y’all get here?”

“Well, sweetie-” started the woman.

“Magic,” Stan interrupted. The McGuckets looked over at him. “You- you’re Angie’s mom, right?” The woman nodded. “Angie got her magic from you, didn’t she?”

“Yes. She did.” Mrs. McGucket frowned at Stan thoughtfully. “Yer mighty perceptive, young man.”

“I do my best,” Stan said with a shrug. “I was just telling Angie that she had to have gotten the genie thing from somewhere. Didn’t make sense for her to suddenly become one after touching some lamp. You showing up right away makes it pretty obvious where that genie thing came from.”

“Genie thing?” queried Lute. Stan nodded.

“Uh, yeah. Angie’s a genie. And I guess, so’s your mom.”

“…What?” Lute asked. Mrs. McGucket took him and Angie off to the side and began to speak to them. Mr. McGucket walked over to Stan. He looked Stan up and down.

“Let me guess. Yer the feller what freed Angie from her bottle,” he said shortly. Stan nodded. After a moment, Mr. McGucket embraced Stan warmly. “Thank you, son.”

“Why?” Stan asked.

“You saved my little girl. You freed her with one of yer wishes, didn’t ya?”

“My second one,” Stan said. Mr. McGucket beamed.

“Yer a good man. What’s yer name?”

“Stan. Stan Pines.”

“Thank you, Stan,” Mr. McGucket said. Stan rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

“I gotta admit, I’m not used to my girlfriend’s dad being so nice to me right off the bat.”

“Girlfriend?!” squawked Lute. Angie punched him roughly.

“I’m a grown adult, Lute. Ya don’t have to go defendin’ me all the time.”

“I’m just-” Lute started. Mrs. McGucket put a hand on her son’s shoulder.

“Lute. Let it go. All of us should head inside fer a conversation.”

“Yeah,” Lute said. He looked over at his parents. “Hang on. Ain’t this the town Fidds went to do research in?”

“Yes,” Angie said. “He’s in the house.” Her family stared at her. “My magic brought him here.” Her family continued to stare. Angie sighed. “Honestly, today’s been so strange, that might not even be in the top five weirdest things to happen.”

“Well, sittin’ down with some iced tea ‘ll help with yer confusion,” Mrs. McGucket said warmly.

“About that…” Stan said. The McGuckets looked at him. “There’s like, no food in the whole house.” Mrs. McGucket snapped her fingers. She grinned.

“Not anymore. C’mon, let’s go talk things out.” The McGuckets filed into the house. Stan grabbed Angie before she could go inside.

“How come you can’t do that?” he asked. Angie crossed her arms. “…Right. You didn’t know you were a genie, but your mom did.”

“Yep.” Angie kissed Stan on the cheek. “C’mon. Knowin’ my ma, the food she just magicked up is delicious.”

#it's been a while since I posted something a fic thing sorry folks #social isolation is starting to get to me and writing is getting a tad bit tougher #but here's some genie stuff! yay!#(and I'll try to get more stuff written soon c: )#Angenie AU #Stangie #McGucket Family #Stanley Pines #Angie McGucket #Ma McGucket #Pa McGucket #Lute McGucket #ficlet #my writing #speecher speaks

15 notes · View notes

truth-spatter · 4 years

Text

Thia fuc, brought to you by Mumbledor M stiltskin is also pisted on Ao3, link, please enjoy.

_________

The walls were bleeding, the shadows got up and danced around, and Ford was sincerely questioning what color that was, this was definitely not good.

They must have pissed the demon off somehow!

Then as soon as it came, it was gone.

The demon stood, the glare gone. “Why.. why did you summon me?”

Ford was so excited he almost forgot the incident and began diving into his many notes and theorems, and his… failure.

Much time the later Ford finished, and the demon nodded, content.

“So you want to build a portal” The demon glaced at Fiddleford with an odd expression “Right, well, what can you give me?”

Ford had to admit, he was pretty dumb to have not thought of this.

Lucky for him, Fiddleford seemed to have his back.

“Mr-Mr. demon, sir?” “Alcor.” “Mr. Alcor, sir? I would like to ask you, what are your thoughts on- er- sa-sacrifices?”

“Fresh, cooked, candy, or, if you want something good,” The- Alcor, smiled. The room lit itself in unnatural darkness, an impossibility if Ford had ever seen one, “Sentimental.”

Ford gulped, he didn’t even have to check to know Fiddleford did too.

————————————-

There were two things running through Fiddleford McGuckets head right now, one, was “AHHHHHHHHHHHHH”, and the second, was “I FORGOT THE COWS, HOW DID I FORGET THE COWS.”

But, if Fiddleford McGucket was good at one thing, it was faking it till you make it.

“Can we, uh, have a week? Just to think on what we want and what we can give you?”

The demon looked at him as if he was an ant, which to a demon, he probably was. “One week.” And then it was gone.

Fiddleford turned, his passive face turning to anger when it faced his partner. “Ford! What the hell made you think summoning a <em>DEMON</em> was a good idea!?” In hindsight, as Fiddleford reflected on the situation, it was a tad unfair to be angry at Ford, he wasn’t the one who reinvited the demon after all.

“Knowledge! The secrets of Gravity Falls hide behind a sentimental family photo, Fiddleford! We cannot afford to back away now, not with so much at stake!” Fiddleford got the feeling they weren’t thinking about the same stakes.

———————————

Over the course of the next week, many things occurred, as they usually do. Dipper was constantly mulling over what he should do, he could take Bill's place and allow all events to flow normally, letting he and his sister go through the events that undoubtedly shaped their lives today(obviously preventing the existence of another Alcor), or, he could do something entirely different.

Both Fords were constantly going through their few available sentimental artifacts, after they found out that the wildlife of Gravity Falls was largely protected.

And Bill observed, well, as best he could anyways.

——————————

“Hello again” the voice said, startling the two Fords.

“Er, hello!” Ford said

There was a long pause, Ford was quite confused at what the demon was doing, being nothing. Shouldn’t they be taking the offerings by now?

The demon began laughing, “You guys-aheh- You guys need to strike up a deal, before-haha- before I can take any of that.” The demon paused “Well, that's not entirely true.”

“What?”

“Nothing , anyways, what are you offering? And for what?”

Ford stepped forward, clearing his throat, “We offer the most sentimental item in this house for the schematics for an interdimensional portal.”

The demon looked at the pile of sentimental items, mostly still incomplete projects that Ford was loath to part with, but he felt that for this? It was worth anything.

The demon held his hand out, and Ford knew he could no longer go back. Unbenounced to him, the demon was thinking the same thing.

The ethereal blue flames didn’t burn, which was nice.

Later, after he had gone through the pile only to find nothing gine, he would notice that the only picture he had of both him and Stanly was gone. And maybe, just maybe, he was bothered by that.

————————————

#fanfic #fuck me duck i hope u like this #fiddleford is s m r t #fiddleford hadron mcgucket #stanford pines #stanly pines #dipper pines #alcor #transcendence au #tau

1 note · View note

under-atomic-skies · 5 years

Text

Never Too Late

Summary: Three years after moving to Gravity Falls, Ford gets a call from an old colleague regarding one of his patients with a fake ID who looks a lot like Ford. Could this man really be Stanley? Written as a request for Pineslover123 (AO3)

Feel free to send me requests

Warnings: implied suicide attempt

Word count: 4885

AO3

Winter was finally giving way to spring, but with the warmer weather came the storms. Stanford didn’t mind the storms all that much as he used to as a kid. There was something relaxing about listening to the sound of the rain hitting the roof or the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. It was sometimes annoying when he had work to investigate out in the woods, but luckily he had plenty of work he could do indoors to keep him busy.

He settled himself into one of the tables near the window so he could watch the storm outside. A cup of coffee rested beside the thick, maroon book he was making notes in. On the front was a golden six fingered hand with the number 2 written in thick, black ink.

He’d moved to the sleepy, backwoods town of Gravity Falls, Oregon not three years ago. The area had drawn his attention by the unusually high reports of anomalous activity, and to his pleasant surprise, he couldn’t get much farther away from his home town if he tried. More or less, he made a home for himself here. It wasn’t homey in the normal sense as it was filled with specimens he’d found and pages upon pages of notes he’d written or read, but he’d built the home with the help of some local lumberjacks and it was his own space.

It was everything he had wanted. He’d finally found a place where a person like him could fit in.

As the heavy rain beat down on the house, he could only distantly hear the sound of the phone ringing from the kitchen. Luckily, his friend and research assistant, Fiddleford McGucket answered it.

“Hello, Pines residence,” he said into the phone. His voice, twinged with a southern accent, tang above the sound of the rain. Finally noticing there was a call, Ford turned his head towards the direction of the kitchen.

“Yes, he’s here,” Fiddleford said. There was a pause before he spoke up again, “Sure, I’ll go get ‘im. Hold on.”

Footsteps neared the front room and Fiddleford emerged from the hallway leading from the kitchen.

“Stanford,” he called from the doorway, “Ya got a phone call.”

Ford sighs quietly and shuts his book, the gold hand on the front reflecting in the overhead light. Reluctantly, he stands from his desk and approaches his friend.

“Who is it?” He asks. They didn’t usually get too many phone calls here. Usually, it was Fiddleford’s wife, or occasionally his mother that called, but if that were the case now, Fiddleford would have just said so.

“Ed something? He says he knew you back at Backupsmore.” Fiddleford reports.

The name Ed did sound somewhat familiar. It wasn’t like Ford had gotten close to anyone apart from Fiddleford, so why would he be calling?

Intrigued, Ford squeezed past Fiddleford and went to the kitchen. The phone had been set on one of the counters, and Ford wasted no time in picking up the receiver and holding it to his ears.

“Hello, this is Stanford Pines.”

“Hey Ford, it’s Ed White,” the voice on the other hand said. There was a pause as Ford tried to connect the name to where he remembered the man from. Ah, yes! Ed has taken some courses with him. Psychology or something? Ford wasn’t one to like to dabble in the softer sciences, but had taken some courses none the less.

“Ed,” Ford finally spoke up, “I wasn’t expecting a call from you.”

The other laughed a bit awkwardly, sounding almost forced, “Yeah, I wasn’t expecting this either if I’m frank.”

‘Frankly is the only way I speak’, his fathers voice suddenly rang in his head, causing him to wince.

“Was there a reason you’re calling?” Ford asked somewhat curiously.

“Yeah, about that,” the voice on the other end was a bit hesitant, “Look, I’m not sure if I’ve got the right guy, but I have a patient here that looks an awful lot like you, but he came in with what looks like a fake ID. Does the name Steve Pinington mean anything to you?”

Ford’s body stiffened at the mention of someone looking similar to him. Steve Pinington? He didn’t know anyone by that name, but the name sounded awfully similar to Stanley Pines. It also sounded like the kind of name Stan would give himself for a fake ID.

But what use would his brother have for a fake ID? They had turned 21 several years ago, so he couldn’t possibly need an ID to forge that.

“Not exactly, but Steve Pinington sounds awful close to my brothers name.” Ford replies, debating on whether or not he should hang up now. He hadn’t spoken to his brother in seven years, not since his brother had sabotaged his chances of getting into West Coast Tech.

His hand tightened around the receiver at the memory. Seven years had done little to lessen the anger and resentment Ford harbored for his twin.

His muscles were practically itching to hang up, but something stilled him. Ed has mentioned he was a patient, a patient with a fake ID none the less.

“Just what kind of trouble did my brother get himself into?” Ford asked with a sigh, pinching his nose. He didn’t have time for this. Stanley has ruined his life once. He should hang up and forget this conversation happened so he could get back to his studies.

“A lady called in to report a man passed out in his car a few days ago.” Ed began, his voice suddenly much quieter and softer. It put Ford on edge, “When the authorities got there, they found that he had taken a bunch of pills. They took him in to pump out his stomach and once he was recovered enough, he came to me.”

Ford felt like he was going to be sick. Stanley has taken pills? The stubborn part of his brain wanted to believe it was an accident, but he couldn’t ignore the nagging part of him that knew it was no mistake.

“You still there, Pines?” Ed asked.

Ford jerked out a nod, then remembered Ed couldn’t see him, “Yeah, I’m here.” He murmured quietly, “He came to you, you said. What does that mean? What do you do?”

“I’m a doctor at the Utah State Hospital. I treat the patients that come in here, and your brother is one of them. Since he had a fake ID, we couldn’t find any medical records or family to contact. I only happened to see that he looks fairly similar to you.” Ed explains patiently. Ford sits heavily in one of the kitchen chairs.

What if they had found family to contact? They would have called their parents first and what if Filbrick had been the one to pick up? Ford winced to think that Filbrick would hang up, not having a single care for the son he had kicked out of his home.

Was Ford really any better though? He had watched Filbrick kick Stan out and hadn’t lifted a finger. He’d been so angry at Stan that he hadn’t cared he’d been kicked out. He’d briefly thought about his brother over the years but told himself that Stan would be fine and dismissed the thought.

Now Ford knew for a fact that Stan wasn’t fine. He’d downed god knows how many pills in the solitude of his car. If he had died, would Ford have even known? Ed only knew to contact him because of their similarities in appearance. If Stan had died, Ed wouldn’t have been there to connect two and two together and Stan would have been thrown in a nameless grave.

The thought made Ford feel sick. Swallowing his bile, he spoke up again, not caring how his voice wavered. “I’m coming to see him.”

He found a piece of paper laying around and pulled a pen from his jacket pocket to write down the address Ed gave him. Ford estimated it would take him 12 hours (five or take) to get there and Ed said he’d be waiting.

Ford said goodbye and hung the receiver back up on the wall with a ‘click’ and finally had a moment to take everything in. Fiddleford slowly crept into the kitchen, finding Ford leaning against the wall with a hand clamped firmly over his mouth.

“Stanford?” He asked quietly, “What’s wrong?”

“My brother,” Ford forced the words out with some difficulty. The lump in his throat was making words hard to get out, “He— he tried to kill himself.”

Six fingers tightly gripped the edge of the counter. Fiddleford’s eyes widened and Ford realized bitterly that he wasn’t even sure if he ever told Fiddleford he had a brother.

“Stanford, I’m so sor—“

“I’m going to see him.” Ford cut him off, not wanting to hear his sympathies. He didn’t deserve it.

Fiddleford merely nodded. “Ok.” His voice trailed off as Ford pushed himself away from the wall and began pacing.

“Ed said he’s in Utah, which means it should take me around 12 hours to get there assuming I don’t stop,” he rattled off, mentally charting his course, “I’d have to stop for gas a few times, but if I keep it short, it shouldn’t put me back too much. But I...”

He continued to rattle off his thoughts, one hand behind his back as the other gripped his hair. He nearly jumped out of his skin as he felt Fiddleford’s hand on his shoulder.

“You can’t drive for 12 hours straight, Ford. You need to eat and sleep too.” His voice was soft, reminding Ford of their college days when Fiddleford used to remind him to nap when he’d be studying for too long.

“I can’t do that! I already failed Stanley once; I can’t keep him waiting any longer!” It was unspoken, but Ford was terrified he’d try something again.

Fiddleford’s hand squeezed, grounding Ford. “I’ll come with you, ok. We can take turns driving so you can get some sleep and we can stock up on food so we won’t have to stop.”

Ford considered his words. That would be practical, but he couldn’t ask his friend to do all of that for him.

“I dunno—“

“Stanford Pines, I think you misunderstood. That was not a suggestion. I’m not letting you drive for 12 hours in the state that you’re in. You’ll be of no use to your brother if something happens and it’s not like I have something better than helping a friend here.” Fiddleford’s words are firm and Ford knows better by now than to protest. He jerks out a nod and Fiddleford squeezes his shoulder once more before dropping his hands to his side.

“Good, now let’s pack up and hit the road.”

Twelve hours later, the pair found themselves in the lobby of the state hospital. Ford nervously fiddled with his hands as he approached the desk.

“I’m here to see Stanley Pines.”

The desk worker, a woman who looked downright bored, barely refrained from sighing as she looked through the files.

“I’m sorry, there’s no one here by that name.” She reported.

“Oh right, try Steve Pinington.” Ford said, forgetting his brother was here with a fake ID. The woman doesn’t refrain from sighing as she looked again.

“I’ll call a nurse to take you up.”

Ford nodded and Fiddleford sat in a near by chair with Ford quickly following suit. Ford anxiously fiddled with his hands as they waited for the nurse. After a moment, Fiddleford rested his hands over Ford’s.

“It’ll be ok, Ford.” He murmurs quietly. Ford isn’t so sure, but luckily doesn’t dwell on it for long as the nurse finally arrives.

She leads the pair through the hospital halls which seem more like a maze than any planned out path. Finally, they come to a stop and the nurse finally faces them.

“He’s just returning from therapy, so he’s in this room for now. Don’t be alarmed if he doesn’t recognize you at first.” She said and promptly leaves before Ford can ask what that meant. He shared a look with Fiddleford before letting himself into the room.

The room was small with only one bed in it. A form lay on the bed, prone and still. Ford’s heart caught in his throat. Even with all the years spanning between the last time he had seen his twin and now, it was odd to see him so quiet and still. It was so different than the loud, boisterous, energetic version of his brother he remembered.

Slowly, he approached the bed, eyes drinking in the sight of his brother. His hair was longer than he remembered and wasn’t slicked back anymore. A big, bushy mustache adorned his face and Ford was distantly angry that he could sort of pull it off.

“Stanley, what happened to you?” Ford whispered. A groan sounded from Stan and his eyes fluttered open. The breath in Ford’s chest stilled as he looked at Stan, not sure how he was going to react upon seeing the brother that abandoned him at his bed side.

Stan’s eyes were glazed, almost unseeing as he blinked at Ford. There was no spark of recognition, no anger, no anything. It was as if Stan wasn’t seeing anything at all.

“Stanley?” Ford asked, reaching a hand out to take his brothers hand, noticing now that he was still restrained to the bed. The tears he had been trying so hard to keep back were welling in his eyes.

“Stan, what happened to you?”

Stan’s lips parted as if he was going to respond, but no sound came out. He stared at Ford with a dull, expressionless face. The tears were spilling down Ford’s face as he threw his arms around his brothers shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Stan.” He whispered in his twins ears, all too aware that Stan hadn’t responded to his hug. As teens, Stan had always been the one to initiate touch, whether it was a large arm slung around his shoulder, or Stan hoisting him off his feet.

Ford couldn’t help but remind himself that Stan might not even want Ford to hug him if he was aware of what was happening. Ford hadn’t even so much as bat an eye when Stan had been kicked out. In the seven years since, he hadn’t tried to contact him once, barely even spending more than a few moments to think of Stan.

He didn’t deserve to be here for Stan now but Stan needed it. He needed someone to be there for him, and his selfish brother would have to do.

Ford wasn’t going to abandon Stan again.

“Uh, Stanford,” Fiddleford’s voice hesitantly spoke up. Ford had forgotten he was there. He released Stan from the hug as he straightened up to look at Fiddleford. The mechanic held a clip board from the end of the bed in his hands and was looking at him with a look that sent chills down Ford’s spine.

“You should take a look at his chart.” Fiddleford said, holding the clipboard out to him. Ford gulps as he reluctantly takes the board.

Ford wasn’t a medical doctor by any means but the long list of medications was concerning. God, was it even necessary to have Stan on so many medications? He was practically a vegetable by this point.

As his eyes scanned down the long list of procedures and medications, Ford’s eyes froze on one word, feeling his heart still. Suddenly, Stan’s behavior made so much sense as the words ‘ECT’ glared back at him.

“Oh God,” Ford whispered. He looked up to Fiddleford who wore a silent expression on his face. Ford turned his gaze back to Stan, still restrained and staring blankly at the ceiling.

“We’re getting him out of here.” Ford said, matter of fact. He wasn’t letting his brother sit in this hospital to be ‘treated’ any more. He remembered reading papers in college about ECT; how they were a horrific treatment option at first glance, but yielded good results in many patients.

Stan obviously wasn’t one of those patients and Ford wasn’t going to abandon him again.

“F, can you please stay with Stan whilst I talk to someone about discharging him?” Now that he had a task to do, his eyes were hard in determination. Fiddleford nodded, lips tilting in a ghost of a smile knowing what that look in Ford’s eye meant all too well.

Ford wasted no time and left the room. After taking to several orderlies, he was finally directed to the person in charge of discharge. After explaining Stan’s true identity and his relation to Ford, they began the paperwork and sent someone to help with Stan.

When Ford finally arrived at Stan’s room again, he noticed that Fiddleford had taken up place beside Stan’s bed. He was quietly murmuring something to Stan as he combed his lanky fingers through Stan’s dirty hair. Ford hadn’t gotten much of a chance to see Fiddleford interact with his son seeing as Tate was in Palo Alto, but he could tell from how he was treating Stan that he was a good father.

Certainly a much better father than Filbrick had ever been.

“They’re getting the paper work settled.” Ford said. The orderly that had led him to the room brushed past Ford, now with a wheelchair in tow. Fiddleford stepped aside as the other man wordlessly started undoing the restraints on Stan’s wrists.

Fiddleford joined Ford at his side, putting a comforting hand over Ford’s shoulder.

“Little help?” The other man spoke a few moments later as he coaxed Stan to sit up. Ford darted from Fiddleford’s side to Stan’s, helping the orderly to get him to his feet.

“Wha—?” Stan groans out, turning his head slowly, as if he was moving under water.

Ford and the orderly helped Stan shuffle a couple of steps closer to the wheelchair, “We’re getting you out of here, Stanley.” Ford replied, smiling hopefully. They lowered Stan into the wheelchair and Ford could swear he saw a hint of recognition in Stan’s eyes. Whether it was because Ford was here, or because of the change of scenery, Ford wasn’t sure and frankly, didn’t care.

For so long, he’d thought Stan’s loud, brass behavior had been so annoying— dare he even say suffocating.

Now he’d give anything just to see a shred of the Stan he used to know.

Ford took the handles of the wheelchair and nodded to Fiddleford. They left the room, following the orderly as he led them to the front door. As they stepped out into the bright sunlight, Stan flinched ever so slightly and squinted his eyes as he looked around slowly.

Not wanting to dwell in this place any longer, he wheeled Stan to the car as Fiddleford jogged ahead to open the door for him. He smiled thankful to notice that Fiddleford was offering up the front seat to Stan.

What he had done to deserve a friend like F, he didn’t know.

Together, the pair helped guild Stan to his shaky feet and lastly, into the car. As Fiddleford returned the wheelchair, Ford buckled Stan into place.

“St’nferd?” Stan asked, voice slurring syllables together. Ford’s head snapped up to see Stan slowly blinking at him with a confused expression.

“It’s me, Stan,” he said, relieved that his brother recognized him, “I’m here. We’re getting you out of here, ok?”

There was a pregnant pause before Stan jerked out a nod, resting his head back against the head rest.

Fiddleford has returned by this point and climbed to the back seat. Ford quietly shut Stan’s door and hurried to the drivers side, eager to get far away from the hospital.

Stan had fallen asleep shortly after the drive started. Fiddleford had also nodded off at some point, leaving Ford by himself at the wheel.

His brain was spinning a mile a minute, trying to figure out the next course of action. They’d have to clear out some space for Stan to sleep in. He also supposed he’d have to figure how to get Stan’s car back at some point. What was trickier was figuring out how to help Stan.

He wasn’t a fool to think that simply being there for Stan now and offering him a place to stay was going to fix all of his problems. Ford was terrified of the idea that Stan would try anything again. He owed it to Stan to do things right by him.

He doubted that Stan would consider talking to a professional, and like hell he was going to let Stan be admitted to another hospital. Maybe he could find someplace reliable to get Stan some medication that wouldn’t make him catatonic.

A groan from beside him broke the silence in the car. Ford’s gaze briefly flickered to Stan before darting back to the road.

“How’re you feeling, Stan?” Ford asked softly, occasionally darting his eyes to Stan.

There was still a glazed look in his eyes, but rather than looking like he wasn’t seeing anything, he looked like he was waking up from a deep sleep.

“Uh, I feel like I’ve been hit by a bus.” Stan groans, adjusting in his seat sluggishly. His voice is still somewhat slurred, but it’s infinitely better than he was before.

“I imagine you’ll feel like that for a bit longer until all the drugs in your system wears off.” Ford said. His voice drops timidly as he continues, “Stan, I— I don’t know where to even start. I’m just— I don’t— I’m sorry.”

Stan’s looked at him, a tired look of surprise on his face, and Ford couldn’t help but smile softly. “Ok, ok, maybe now’s not the best time for this.”

Stan blinks slowly, “Where are we?”

Oh, right. “We’re in my car. My friend and I came to get you when we caught news that you were here. We’re on our way back to my home in Oregon; there’s about nine hours left in our trip.” Ford briefly wondered if there was any more relevant information to add but decided to wait until Stan was a bit more alert.

Stan looked back towards the road, not saying anything. Ford reached a hand over, covering Stan’s hand in his. As he glanced over, worried if it was ok, he saw a ghost of a smile on Stan’s lips as he closed his eyes, drifting back asleep.

Hours later, Fiddleford pulls down the winding drive way leading to their house. He had switched seats with Ford at some time during the trip, and Ford has fallen asleep promptly afterwards. Luckily, Stan stayed asleep for the rest of the line.

As Fiddleford saw the house coming into view, he reached a hand back, tapping Ford’s knees. From the mirror, he saw Ford’s eyes blink open.

“We’re home,” Fiddleford reported with a smile.

The car rolled to a stop near the porch. The sound of seat belts unclicking and doors opening woke Stan up, who looked around at his new surroundings with confusion.

Ford was at his door in a moment, a timid smile on his face.

“Welcome Home, Stanley.”

Stan’s eyebrows were bunched in confusion. He certainly seemed more aware now then previously seeing as the drugs had at least 12 hours to work its way out of his system.

Ford offered him a hand, “Let’s go inside. We can get you something to eat, and i can explain any questions you have.”

Stan lifted a hand, hanging it in between the two of them for a moment, hesitating before taking Ford’s hand. Getting to his feet still took effort, but whether it was because of the effects of the drugs, or from being crammed in a car for 12 hours was unclear.

Slowly, the twins made their way through the lawn to the porch. Ford paused to unlock the door before throwing it open for them. He led Stan to the kitchen, helping him sit down in the chair.

“What can I get you to eat?” Ford asks.

Stan merely shrugs.

“It’s been at least 12 hours since you’ve eaten anything; you gotta eat something.” Ford says.

Stan doesn’t look up from his hands resting on the table. Ford continues, to babble on about food, starting to fidget his hands.

“I don’t want food, Ford.” Stan cuts him off, sounding exasperated. Ford doesn’t seem to notice apart from getting more fidgety.

“But you have to—“

“I want answers, Stanford,” Stan finally bites out. His hands are clenched tight into fists. Ford falls still, looking at his twin with an owlish expression, “You bring me here, acting like nothing ever happened between us, doting on me like I’m an invalid. I just don’t— I don’t get it!”

Ford sighed and sits down across from Stan heavily.

“You kinda were,” Ford replied in a whisper, “You didn’t see how you looked, Stan. It was terrifying to see you like that. You weren’t... you.”

Stan crosses his arms over his chest, “How would you know if I wasn’t acting like me, huh? It’s been seven years, Ford. You didn’t give a shit about me in any of that time until now.”

Ford winced. He had a point. Wringing his hands, he shut his eyes tightly for a moment. “I was wrong.”

Stan’s jaw dropped, looking at him with a look of shock as if he never expected Ford to admit he was wrong. Ford continued.

“I was so wrong, Stan. About a lot of things. I shouldn’t have stood aside and let Pops kick you out. I should have heard you out, or tried to find you, but I was so angry, stupidly so, that I convinced myself that you were ok. I—“ Ford broke off, covering his face with his hands, “I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if you had—“ his voice trailed off, not able to finish that sentence.

Stan’s demeanor changed completely as Ford broke down in tears. “Woah, woah, relax, Sixer.” Stan replied. He pushed himself to his feet, kneeling beside Ford’s chair as he put a hand on his brothers shoulder. Ford peaked out from behind twelve fingers, eyes wet with tears.

“You called me Sixer.” He whispers pitifully, earning a chuckle from Stan.

“Uh, yeah.”

Ford frowns, “What happened to us? How did one stupid fight ruin how close we used to be?”

Stan was silent, having wondered that question many times himself over the years. Ford reached out, gripping Stan’s hand on his shoulder with a desperate grip.

“Stan, I’m sorry. I know I messed up so much in the past, but please let me be there for you now. I don’t want to lose my brother again.”

Stan sighed, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t want that, Sixer. You’ll just get tired of me eventually; you just feel sorry for me now.”

Ford shook his head, “No, Stan, I swear I won’t, but, uh, if you really think that way, why don’t we at least take it one day at a time, ok? Just give me a chance to make it up to you. I want us to be brothers again.”

It was Stan’s turn for his eyes to well up with tears. He pointedly looked away from Ford, biting his bottom lip. Ford rested his hand on Stan’s shoulder, giving it a comforting squeeze.

After a moment, Stan looks back to Ford, soft smile on his lips, “I’ve missed you, Sixer.”

“I’ve missed you too, ya knucklehead.”

“Just, uh, just ‘cause we’re having a moment here, your project really was a mistake. I would never intentionally ruin something I know was so important to you.”

Ford smiled softly, “I know that now, Stan. I should have realized that back then.”

Stan’s shoulders seemed to sag with relief. He and Ford share a moment as they look at each other, hopeful expressions on their faces.

Finally, Ford gets to his feet, helping Stan up with him.

Once they were standing, Stan wraps his arms around Ford, pulling him into a tight hug. Ford didn’t hesitate as he flung his arms around his twin, glad to finally feel his twins arms around him once again, to confirm that Stan really was here and was ok.

They linger in a hug, until they at last reluctantly pull away.

“Now,” Ford says as he makes Stan sit back down, “You really should eat something. How does some soup sound?”

Stan opens his mouth but is promptly cut off by a loud rumble from his stomach. There is a moment of silence before the brothers both start giggling together.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Ford laughs, pulling a can of soup from the cabinet. Stan’s laughter bubbles back down to quiet chuckles.

Fiddleford eventually joins them, sitting across the table from Stan with a warm smile. For the first time in years, he feels lighter, hopeful even. His future was still uncertain, but it was a hell of a good place to start.

With his brother by his side, they were capable of taking on anything the world could throw at them.

#gravity falls #gravity falls fanfic #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #gravity falls fanfiction #stan pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #ford pines #fiddleford mcgucket #tw implied suicide attempt #tw suicide mention

16 notes · View notes

andrewmoocow · 6 years

Text

Gravity Soul chapter 9: To McGucket Mansion We Go, Drawing the Line in the Sand? (originally posted on August 8, 2018)

AN: And so ends the Quest for the Northwest arc! From here on out, things get pretty dark and angsty as our heroes' lives are put at risk, their sanity about to teeter off the edge and relationships put into jeopardy. Also, just wanna say I'd really like some of my works get their own pages on TV Tropes someday so if anyone can make that possible, I'd be honored. Now then, on with the chapter! 23-8-5-14 1-12-12 9-19 12-15-19-20 1-14-4 25-15-21'22-5 16-1-9-4 20-8-5 16-9-16-5-18 20-8-5 13-15-19-20 8-1-21-14-20-9-14-7 15-6 1-12-12 9-19 23-8-1-20 3-15-13-5-19 1-6-20-5-18 9 15-14-12-25 8-1-22-5 15-14-5 17-21-5-19-20-9-15-14 20-15 1-19-11, 25-15-21 19-5-5 4-9-4 25-15-21 1-12-12 18-5-1-12-12-25 13-9-19-19 13-5?

When we had last left the Mystery Meisters, they had set off on their night-long mission to save Pacifica Northwest from the alliance between Asura and Bill Cipher. They have already battled Medusa Gorgon and made peace with her former minions but now they had a new opponent to face, the Bloodsucker Mosquito and his partner Giriko. "So you wield Excalibur now brat?" Giriko wondered clashing the sawblade on his glove with Dipper's weapon. "Yeah, but are you working with Kishin Cipher too?!" Dipper shouted slashing at the Demon Saw. "Of course we are, we signed a deal with him to bring back our master Arachne!" "Who's Arachne?" Mabel called riding on Free's shoulders as the two dodged a squadron of his golems. "Medusa's sister, their old master that got killed by Asura!" Maka answered fighting Mosquito, who has now bulked up his upper body considerably. "And it seems they've gotten stronger as well since we last saw them!" "Speaking of which, group up with me everyone!" Ford commanded to his teammates and they all gathered around him. "I have a plan guys. Me, Stan, Spirit, Stein, Kid and Free go after Mosquito while everybody else is against Giriko. What do you think of that?" he explained. "Question! Doesn't that seem a bit unfair for both of us?" Patty wondered. "I don't care, we don't have enough time left before Cipher pulls off whatever they've got planned!" "If you say so Mr. Pines." Soos obliged as he and the others charged toward Giriko's golems leaving the Stan twins, Spirit, Stein, Kid and Free with Mosquito. "So it's just all of you now, huh? Well, guess I should finally whip out a form that I sadly didn't get a chance to try out." the Bloodsucker stated before he swapped out his more top-heavy form for something more insect-like, befitting his name. Mosquito's legs started to become more animalistic, his toes touching the ground and his nose significantly longer. "Behold, my form from 200 years ago!" he declared. "Wow, that's one giant bug." Stan quipped with a smirk. "We're gonna need a bigger flyswatter."

"Police Stinger!" Mosquito cried out before his body began rotating incredibly fast except for his head and his schnoz grew longer. "I'll have you know this form is both my fastest and features the most finest nose!" he explained zooming towards his opponents, but they were quick to narrowly dodge him. "He wasn't kidding when he said he was fast!" Ford exclaimed. "How do you think we should beat him?" "I got a plan! Free, you can do all those ice things right?" Stan asked the wolfman. "Of course I can old man. Why?" Free wondered. "Think you could use them to help us out here?" "Of course I can! Just get him distracted first while I work my magic." The elderly brothers and son of Death complied with a nod and charged at Mosquito with their weapons. "Take some of this!" Stan shouted socking the Bloodsucker in the eye while Kid fired at him with his guns. "And a little bit of that!" "Ingrate!" Mosquito growled in a deeper voice grabbing Stan and tossing him into a nearby tree. "Stanley!" Ford cried out for his brother before turning to Free. "Any minute now Free!" Amusingly enough, the werewolf was too busy cracking his knuckles to get ready to pay attention. "Free!" "Oh, sorry Mr. Pines." Free readily apologized before preparing one of his spells. "Wolf, wolves! Wolf, wolves!" he chanted waving his arms around again. "Ice Pillars!" Just then, a series of frozen columns began rising from the ground to surround Mosquito. "Now!" "You got it! Ice Bind!" the Man with the Demon Eye called further restraining Mosquito long enough for Kid to knock him down a peg and completely disable him. "He's finally down, now's our chance!" Ford declared aiming his magnet gun. "Anything you got Kid?" "Yes, yes I do." the Immature Death God replied. "Are you ready girls?" he asked his pistols. "Yes Kid!" the Thompsons cried before they declared in unison, "Let's go Soul Resonance!" Just then, a large round blue aura bearing the stripes in Kid's hair surrounded him, no doubt that this was his soul. The twin pistols then converted into a pair of metallic arm cannons forming over Kid's arms before he took aim. "Prodigious, I suppose this must be the Soul Resonance that Maka & Soul attempted. I have to conduct further research." Ford muttered to himself before he noticed Free changing into a more wolf-like form and an eye appeared in front of him. "And this must be one of Free's special abilities as well!" "DEMON EYE CANNON!" Free shouted before the eye unleashed a laser beam towards Mosquito simualtaneously with Kid's Death Cannon and Ford's magnet gun, seemingly disintegrating the Bloodsucker once and for all. "Well that was easier than expected." "I was awoken by the sound of lasers, what'd I miss?" Stan wondered now unexpectedly unharmed after getting tossed away. "Did you guys just blast that bug to bits and not invite me to watch?! What kind of people are you?!" he jokingly chastised his brother. "Thank goodness you're alive Stan. Now let's go help out the others against Giriko." Ford became relieved knowing his brother was okay when suddenly they heard a faint rumbling. "You know in any other circumstance, that might've killed me." Mosquito commented rising out of the ground now looking more like a normal handsome man. "But that wasn't even my final form. Cause I have more where that came from!" he declared charging at the team. "What even is that?! He never displayed this form when we first fought him!" Stein gaped before they attempted to dodge. "That doesn't matter now, he's headed for the kids!" Ford cried and they ran after him, hoping the others are doing alright against Giriko.

"Dipper, are you all right?!" Mabel cried to her brother who was busy running from one of the Golems carrying Giriko's chainsaw form. "Does it look like I'm alright?!" he replied screaming before Crona came to his rescue with a mighty slash of Ragnarok. "Thanks Crona." "You're welcome Dipper." Crona replied before stabbing another. "Dammit you're resilient kids." Giriko snarled getting up and wiping some blood from his mouth. "But you'll never compare to our master Kishin Cipher! With the combined powers of a dream demon and a Kishin, he is unstoppable!" "Not if we have anything to say about it, we'll save Pacifica and stop you guys!" Eruka cried before sicking a small tadpole-like creature on him. "Get him Tadpole Jackson!" she commanded and the creature readily obeyed and pounced Giriko, trapping his head within its jaws. "What the hell is this thing doing with my head?!" the former minion of Arachne cried struggling before he felt something round in his hand. "Wait, what am I holding?" The orb exploded in his hand, blasting Giriko back and sending Tadpole Jackson flying off his head into Eruka's arms. "You did good little guy." she gently cooed to him before Mabel gasped at the two. "You have an animal sidekick too?! Waddles would totally want to be friends with your tadpole thing!" "Thank you Mabel." Eruka smiled before the two of them spotted the Stan twins & their group rushing toward them. "Guys, Mosquito's comin' for you all and we gotta go, fast!" Stan cried as the Bloodsucker got closer to them. "Get ready you guys!" "I see the children are here as well! Allow me to purge them for you!" Mosquito exclaimed going faster before he dug his hand into Soul's chest like claws, scarring him. "Soul!" Maka, Crona, Dipper, Mabel and Black Star all cried out for their friend rushing to his side. "Are you alright Soul, please wake up!" Soul's meister cried as he clutched his wound. "I'm fine Maka, just gonna need tons of medical attention after this." "Lovin' the new look there old fart. Or should I say middle aged fart?" Giriko mock-complimented his partner's more handsome form. "We can argue later my boy, the old men managed to outsmart me." Mosquito firmly stated. "There's no hope for us here with their combined numbers, so I say we just deliver the blood and return to base." he suggested. "Master said to inject it into the one with the fez, and I think I know how to do so." "How bad is it guys?" Wendy asked Stein and Fiddleford as they examined Soul's wounds. "Good news, Soul will be fine. Bad news, we might be here a while to take care of him." McGucket gave his diagnosis. Meanwhile Stan turned to find Mosquito reverting back to his shorter form and leaping into the air. "Uh guys? We still got him to contend with." he cautioned before the butler spun his body like a rotor and zoomed downward towards Dipper and Mabel. "Kids, watch out!" he screamed jumping in front of the twins and putting himself in the Bloodsucker's path, falling victim to his Stinger. "Grunkle Stan!" the kids cried out. "Mr. Pines!" Wendy, Soos, Melody and the denizens of Death City added. "Stanley!" Ford screamed catching his brother in his arms. "Stanley, please wake up! I've already lost you once, I don't want to do it again!" "Guys, I'm okay. Just got this hole in my chest from the bugman." Stan groaned struggling to get up, only to cry out in pain from the wound. "Oy, must've really hit hard." "Well, looks like our job is done. See you all when the apocalypse comes!" Giriko casually bade farewell before he, Mosquito and his Golems walked away from them toward the mansion, leaving the Mystery Meisters alone in the forest.

Mere hours later, the crew remained to concoct one final attack on Kishin Cipher and help Stan & Soul recuperate from being assaulted by Mosquito. "Okay, now hold still knucklehead." Ford cautioned his brother as he tended to the large hole in his chest. "Hey, at least Stein ain't tendin' to me this time. He's an absolute madman I tells ya!" Stan commented glaring at Stein who was already taking care of Soul. Just then Dipper and Mabel walked up to him. "I can't believe you let yourself get in the way just for us." his great-nephew said. "We're so sorry you ended up like this as a result." "It's all right kids. I still did it for you two." Stan warmly stated hugging them both before his pain came back. "Aw hot Belgian waffles, that still stings!" he cried. "Like I said Stan, stay still!" Ford ordered his brother laying him down again. "Hopefully we're close to where Kishin Cipher might be hiding, I can feel it!" "Could it be over there in the horizon?" Liz asked and they all turned to find the mansion exactly where she pointed at. It was what was once the Northwest Mansion, but there was a menacing atmosphere surrounding it. "Well I'll be darned, that's gotta be mah Hootenanny Hut!" McGucket exclaimed before everyone else turned to stare awkwardly at him, no doubt confused about his choice of name for the building. "C'mon guys, calling it a mansion just sounded too fancy for me!" "We got no time to waste, Pacifica is in there and so are Bill & Asura!" Dipper announced. "If we don't stop those two soon, who knows what havoc they'll wreak upon the world!" Maka added with a recovering Soul by her side before he transformed into his scythe form. "The line must be drawn here, this far! No further!" she declared plunging the blade into the ground and literally making a line. "So are you ready as you'll ever be?" "Are you sure about this guys? There's a very good chance this is where we die." Eruka fretted gripping Blair's arm tightly. "Then perhaps today is a good day to die." Ford stated taking a stand next to Dipper and Maka. "Now who's with us?!" "We are!" the rest of the team all cried out raising their fists in the air before marching toward the Hootenanny Hut, ready for the final showdown against Kishin Cipher. But little did they know that they'll make a huge mistake.

Finally making it to the mansion's courtyard, Dipper & Mabel peeked from behind the gate to discover the water in the fountains were replaced with lava and the peacocks were now reptilian beasts. In place of the statue of Pacifica was one of Bill & Asura shaking hands while both Gravity Falls and Death City burned beneath them. And standing guard at the front door was none other than the Madness of Sloth. "He's got some tight security here!" Mabel exclaimed in a hushed tone before they were joined in snooping by Maka & Soul hovering over them, their heads inexplicably forming a column. "And he's got the cave troll formerly known as Mr. Northwest over there." Soul added before the column got taller until the entire party were spying on the courtyard. "Wait, how are we doing this?" "We're gonna need a distraction if we want to break into there. Got any ideas?" Kid asked the others. "Just use food to drive him away, then beat him over the head! That usually works in cartoons." Soos suggested. "Or maybe we could fake surrendering and sacrifice ourselves for the greater good." Crona added deadpanned, to the shock of everyone else. "Wow, way to bring the house down kiddo!" Ragnarok jeered popping out of his meister's vest to noogie him. "Why don't we use a decoy instead?!" "That's...actually a good idea Ragnarok." Tsubaki stated. "But which one is the real question." Just then Mabel and Black Star stood up with brave faces. "Our time has come." The Madness of Sloth thought he heard voices coming from outside the gate. Stomping away from his position to investigate, he turned his head to discover nothing there. Turning around to return to his post, Sloth then spotted Mabel covered in some red substance lying on the doorstep. "Oh the pain! All of this pain is so painful!" she cried out. "If only the master of this house would give me shelter from all the atrocities of humankind!" "What is your game commoner brat?" the Madness snarled looming over the girl. "This is no game my good sir! My family has shunned me for crimes so unspeakable, they are almost apocalyptic!" Mabel feigned shattered innocence. "I insist that I speak with your lord and become his ward! And he better have a double life as a nocturnal animal-themed crimefighter who has cool gadgets, his own cave and tons of mental issues!" "NOW!" The beast that was once Preston heard someone cry before he was suddenly tied up with a chain scythe. "Great acting there Mabel, you pulled off quite the overdramatic facade!" Blair congratulated her licking away the fake blood. "Thanks Blair. I think it was the ketchup that made it work." "You dare trespass on the lair of the omniscient Kishin Cipher?!" the Madness roared. "Prepare to be executed!" He summoned his giant bell and smashed it onto the ground, sending them flying back. "Guess it's finally time I put this feller to good use." McGucket stated pulling out his sonic banjo and playing a tune, repelling the bell's shockwaves. "Hey, it's actually working!" "Quick, while he's distracted!" Tsubaki commanded and they all raced to the door to try & open it. "Come on, open up you damn hunk of fancy wood!" Black Star shouted trying to push it down. "If I have to guess, whatever's behind this door has to be where Kishin Cipher is hiding!" Ford remarked before he gave up on the door. "How can we break it down now?" "I think I have an idea!" Patty chirped. "Anyone got something priceless I can use?" she asked. "I think I have one! Now where is it?" Stan responded before digging through his clothes and pulling out a large diamond. "Here we go, the Klopman diamond!" "Wait, THE Klopman diamond?! As in the cursed jewel that took the lives of many a rich woman's husband and served as a Saturday morning cartoon running gag?" Gideon cried in awe. "Wait, you actually took the damned diamond from that temple in Argentina?!" Ford scolded his brother. "The legends said it was associated with some kind of curse!" "Hey, those three bird spirits convinced me to search for it with a really catchy song!" Stan tried to defend his rather foolish actions. "I especially liked the one that looked like some duck in a sailor suit, kinda reminded me of you Sixer." Suddenly his brother shushed him while scowling. "Not another word Stan, now put that thing to good use." "Okay then bro." Stan answered resignedly before standing up and waving the diamond around in his hands. "Hey ugly, lookie what I got!" he called out to the Madness of Sloth. "A priceless cursed diamond, all for you!" The Madness turned to glare at Stan & the diamond before charging at the group, allowing time for McGucket to escape and join the others as they left the diamond in front of the door for Preston to smash through. "This is either your most brilliant idea or your stupidest. Though I guess there must be some middle ground." Ford commented before Preston crashed through the door, creating an entrance for the Mystery Meisters. "Can't believe that actually worked." Ghost-Eyes said before he gazed upon the beast now lying down on the ground. "You think he's dead?" "Doesn't seem like it, probably unconscious from bashing the door in." Spirit answered as they made their way for the door. "Well, guess there's no turning back now." "Seems like it Spirit." Ford declared before turning to the others. "Now does anyone have something to say before we go in there for the fight of our lives?" he asked. "I'd like to do one." Dipper said. "It's been a honor being your sister, great-nephew and friend everyone." "I really hope we can save Pacifica, if she's even still in there." Mabel added. "No matter what happens, we'll always stick together." Maka declared gripping Soul and Crona's hands tightly. "Bill and Asura won't stand a chance against the man who's gonna surpass God!" Black Star boasted as usual. "We will fight in the name of my father and the DWMA." Kid soon added. "And I'm gonna wear Bill's butt like a rhinestone slipper." Wendy stated. "Gonna be honest guys, maybe a few of us won't make it out alive." Soos admitted trying to be real. "Quick question, which one of you is a side character?" "Not now Soos, save the side character talk for later." Melody said. "Well we plan on redeeming ourselves for our past actions." Gideon said confidently, to which Ghost-Eyes, Eruka, Free and the Mizunes added with a nod. "And I want my house back!" Fiddleford exclaimed before spitting "Okay then, we're off." Ford announced quietly stepping into the mansion with the others following him. Dipper and Mabel took a moment to look over the unconscious Madness of Sloth and how they could save him. "What are we gonna do with him?" Mabel asked her brother. "We'll find a way for him to get better, I'm sure of it." Dipper assured her before they turned and continued on, fearful of what's to come.

Carefully stepping into the ballroom, the team noticed it didn't look that much different, the only exception being tapestries of people bowing before Bill, an image of Kishin Cipher's wheel carved into the floor and most of all, a large sack with a singular eye hanging below a giant hole in the roof. "This must be it everyone, this has got to be where Kishin Cipher is hiding!" Ford declared as they took shelter in the shadows of the room. "Now whatever you do, no one make a sound. Are we clear?" he ordered before he heard someone suddenly fart. "Okay, which one of you was it?!" "That may have been me dudes. I sometimes get nervous when we're in a creepy dark place and I'm told not to make a sound!" Soos confessed to the scientist before they suddenly discovered something glittering in the dark. "Hey, what's that over there?" Dipper wondered stepping closer to the object until he realized it was actually a gilded cage. "Guys, I think that may be where they're holding Pacifica!" "Why do you think that kid?" Spirit wondered as the others followed Dipper. "Because it seems like her entire life was like this before meeting me and Mabel." the boy added. "Now can someone help me lower this cage?" "I got this squirt!" Black Star boasted before he tossed his chain scythe at one of the cage bars, tied it up and lowered it to the ground. When the kids thought they would see their friend again after so long, they instead discovered the cage was now empty. "What the?! Where is she?" Maka exclaimed. "You think Bill had done something to her?" "Indeed we did Maka-chan." an all-too-familiar voice answered, that voice being none other than Medusa. "You again! What do you want with us now?" Ford shouted preparing his magnet gun. "And we won't let you beat us this time!" "Is that so my friends?" Medusa remarked putting on a fake innocent smile. "Well after I sent you all away, my master had assigned me to work on a particular project. Can you guess which one?" she quizzed the group, who all feared the worst while turning to gaze at the gilded cage. "If you're thinking about the girl, then you are indeed correct." Medusa stepped aside to reveal Pacifica, but she looked much different than when everyone last saw her. She was dressed in her usual clothing but her most peculiar feature was a metal helmet with a pair of three holes on both sides of the front and incredibly pointy teeth. "Is that you Pazzy?" Mabel muttered fearfully taking a few steps toward her friend. All was silent for a few moments until Pacifica harshly slapped the Pines sister aside, to the shock of everybody. "Mabel!" Stan screamed running toward his great-niece while the rest of the Pines tried to contemplate on what had just happened. "What's happened to Pacifica? Does it have something to do with that helmet she's wearing?" Dipper cried before the heiress summoned a katana blade and charged forward, about to stab the boy before he suddenly clashed her weapon with Excalibur. "Fool! It seems she is under our foe's control!" "The annoying blade is right child. I have experimented on the child hoping that she would come under the control of the Black Blood like her father, and it was a success." the witch explained proudly. "That helmet of hers allows us to make her our puppet by injecting the substance into her brain." "We gotta break that helmet and save her guys!" Dipper stated. "Here's the plan. Me, Maka, Kid, Wendy, Eruka, Free, Ford & Crona take care of Pacifica & Medusa. Black Star, Gideon, Ghost-Eyes, McGucket & Melody will rescue Mrs. Northwest. Finally, Soos, Blair, Mizune & Stein will try to help Mabel. Are we all clear?" "Roger roger!" Patty replied before she & Liz formed into Kid's pistols. "Can't believe I'm taking orders from someone I tried to kill last summer." Gideon growled before his team began searching for Pacifica's mother. "Don't worry dawg, we're here to help!" Soos exclaimed racing to Stan's side to assist Mabel. "And as for you." Dipper glowered at Medusa as his team took their battle stances and prepared for an epic showdown.

"Mabel? Mabel! Hey Mabel, wake up!" Stan exclaimed lightly smacking her great-niece on the side of her face. "Maybe if I try shaking her." "I don't think that's gonna work Mr. Pines." Soos commented before trying his hand at awakening his younger friend. "Hey hambone, if you wake up we'll get you pizza! With stuffed crust!" "S-stuffed crust?" Mabel moaned beginning to regain consciousness. "Yeah, you can eat it in reverse dude!" Soos continued on much to Stan's chagrin. "I can't believe we're having this conversation." he groaned before Mabel finally woke up in his arms. "Mabel, you're finally awake pumpkin!" "Grunkle Stan!" Mabel exclaimed hugging her grunkle. "Wait, what just happened?" she asked. "It's about Pacifica. She's been brainwashed by Medusa using the Black Blood and is already fighting your brother." Stein recapped for her. "She did WHAT?!" Mabel screamed angrily before glaring at Medusa who was currently fighting Dipper's team. "Oh am I gonna give her a piece of my mind for messing with my friends!" "Not so fast!" the familiar sound of Mosquito's voice called as he barreled toward them in his 100 years ago form with a Golem carrying Giriko's chainsaw form following behind. "Now is the time for us to finish the job!" "Heads up dudes, he's back!" Soos exclaimed running from the duo before Stein stabbed Mosquito in the shoulder with Spirit. "Don't try to run away now Soos, we still got these guys to handle!" Spirit exclaimed. "Right dawgs, for Pacifica!" Meanwhile Black Star's group was busy searching for Priscilla Northwest around the only part of the ballroom that wasn't caught in the midst of combat. "Now where could she be?" Gideon wondered looking around harder. "If I were a formerly rich women, where would I be?" Black Star added before McGucket suddenly got an idea. "Hey I know where she might be! There's this little trapdoor near that there lever that I use to keep my banjos!" "Excellent, let's see if we can open it." Tsubaki replied before they began searching for the trapdoor. Suddenly among the screams of battle, they heard a faint voice under the floor followed by some pounding. "Is anyone up there? Please help me!" "That must be the door!" Ghost-Eyes exclaimed before he felt around for the door. Finally discovering it, he bashed it in revealing the Northwest matriarch below, albeit with messier hair and nearly smeared makeup. "Oh thank you so much. You have no idea how torturous it was to be in there against your will!" "Ah don't mention Mrs. N, you can thank me, Black Star!" the young ninja declared. "The man who's gonna-ooh, mini-sandwiches!" He immediately became distracted by what the panic room contained. "And there's a coloring book as well!" "Listen, we've come to rescue you and your family from those guys. Is there any way we could get you out safely?" Melody asked. "I don't think that's important right now, just break the window over there!" Priscilla stated and Black Star, now out of the panic room with some mini-sandwiches in his mouth, smashed it. "Okay miss, now get out of here!" "Not so fast!" Medusa shouted firing a Vector Arrow at them. "Master Cipher shall not let you leave here alive!" she declared cornering the rescue team before she was bearhugged from behind by Free. "Oh no you don't ex-boss! This is for beating us up whenever we failed you!" "We're dona serving you Medusa, and Kishin Cipher as well!" Eruka added tossing a few Tadpole Grenades at Pacifica, who simply destroyed them all with her katana before charging at the frog witch when suddenly Dipper clashed blades with her again. "Listen Pacifica, I know you're still in there!" Dipper cried for his friend. "You got to fight it, just like how you fought against your family's reputation!" Pacifica once again still didn't speak before their blades started to clank against one another. "Fool, it seems giving her the cliched 'I know you're in there' speech won't work right now! It seems the only way to free your friend is to destroy that helmet!" Excalibur stated. "Right, but how?" "Get away from my experiment brat!" Medusa screamed getting between the two. "Any moment now, Kishin Cipher will reawaken and finish the job for us!" She then fired a Vector Arrow at Dipper who deflected it with a swipe of Excalibur before charging at the witch with a war cry. Then suddenly he was sent flying backwards with a Vector Plate into a wall before his barely conscious form was met with a disapproving glare from Medusa. "Pathetic." "I seriously need help here Excalibur! What do you got that can break Medusa's control over Pacifica?!" Dipper cried struggling to get back up. "Hm, I suppose I do have quite the trick up my sleeve. But you'll have to rap with me here boy." the Holy Sword stated bringing himself back to his temporary Meister's side and began to glow. "Here goes nothing." "Hey guys, what's happening to Dipper?" Wendy asked Kid. "I can't believe my eyes, he's actually doing it!" the son of Death declared in astonishment. "Doing what?" Ford inquired. "Accessing the power of Excalibur himself." The boy floated in the air with wings made of light forming out of his back while holding Excalibur aloft. "Impossible..." Medusa muttered before Dipper unleashed the full power of the sword. "Hero..." he prepared to zoom towards the witch and her puppet. "THE ATOMIC!" With a mighty slash, Medusa lost half of her torso & Pacifica's helmet was reduced to metallic shards, leaving the two of them to fall flat on their faces. "D-did he just-" Crona stuttered before the boy rushed to Pacifica's side and flipped her over on her back. "Come on P, wake up!" "You think she's...dead?" Priscilla asked beginning to shed a few tears. "FOOLS! I feel she is simply unconscious. I know because this isn't the first time I used that move." Excalibur stated. "Dipper, I think I know what'll work!" Mabel cried. "Try true love's kiss, that always works in the movies!" "What?! Mabel, this is no time to invoke cliched movie tropes, we don't have enough time left before Kishin Cipher wakes up!" Dipper exclaimed incredulously. "Just do it kid and let's get outta here!" Stan added. Everyone watched in anticipation as Dipper let out a long, exasperated sigh and puckered his lips, finally planting them on Pacifica's own pair causing her to finally awaken. "Oh, what happened? How long did I sleep?" "Uh for your information, they made me kiss you." Dipper tried to talk his way out of it before Mabel screeched in joy. "What did I tell you all?! It did work like in the movies!" "There's no time! We got Pacifica, now we just flee and find a way to cure her father!" Maka exclaimed trying to gun for the door until she was suddenly assaulted by Medusa. "You are far too late little one. He's finally waking up." She gestured to the large sack which started trembling a bit. "Better hurry before he slaughters you all." "She's right, let's go!" Eruka cried in fear before she was suddenly sent flying towards Kishin Cipher's wheel sitting below the sack as it fell down to the floor. "But before we can truly get things started, there must be sacrifices first. Like you, you filthy traitor." "What is even happening right now?!" Stan exclaimed as the sack began taking on a more humanoid shape. "That sack is really Kishin Cipher!" Kid replied fearfully before its transformation completed and clumsily stepped toward Eruka. "I'm coming Eruka!" Dipper cried out rushing to the witch's side before the creature took a knee and stared at the two with his hands clasped together...before he let out a loud, bone-chilling shriek. Dipper & Eruka started screaming as well in fear of Kishin Cipher before his screaming turned into insane laughter. "Oh you should see the looks on your faces, just priceless!" he cackled. "And your screams of terror were something else too, right guys?!" Kishin Cipher then tore off a portrait of a younger Pacifica with her parents to reveal an interdimensional tear colored dark purple, red & yellow that had a distinct smell of burnt hair. Ford immediately knew what this was. "The Nightmare Realm?!" "Rightio Sixer, hats off to you for getting it right!" Kishin Cipher complimented with a tip of the hat, also flipping the house upside down and back again. "My my my, what a main cast we got here!" he exclaimed menacingly. "And we even got my old friends the Pines family back for another round! Can I get a round of applause here nightmares and monstrosities?!" Sounds of an applauding crowd emitted from the entrance to the Nightmare Realm before a large red-faced creature with a permanent smile peered out of the opening, frightening the team all except for Ford who was determined to put Bill out to pasture once and for all. "You can't scare me anymore Bill! We still have the journals, which means we have access to your weakness!" the scientist declared pulling out Journal 3 but he was too late to realize it wasn't the real book. "Mushroom omelette. For this recipe, you will need any kind of mushroom, eggs, butter, wait just a tick. This isn't the journal..." "IT'S A COOKBOOK!" Stan screamed in terror. "Game over man, game over! Close the beach, women & children only, oh the humanity!" Black Star panicked before scooping up Liz in his arms. "Okay that does it! Screw you guys, we're going home!" the elder Thompson sister cried and the two rushed toward the entrance screaming until the Madness of Sloth, now having regained consciousness, halted them. "What did you do Kishin Cipher?!" Dipper shouted furiously but the fusion of Bill & Asura replied with a haughty sneer. "Lookin' for these?" he taunted summoning the original three journals from out of nowhere. "If you wanna get outta here alive, you'll have to give me what I want!" "And that would be?" Soul asked preparing for a fight before he felt himself picked up and dragged towards Kishin Cipher along with Stan. "Why you two of course! How does joining my Horsemen of the Apocalypse sound?!" the beast offered. "Over my dead body triclops! The day I side with an idiot like you is the day I die!" Stan argued back trying to free himself. "You guys get outta here, Bill here is mine!" "I don't think so!" Kishin Cipher mocked the old man before he let a few of his bandages capture Dipper, Mabel, Ford & Maka. "Either surrender yourselves now, or they pay the price!" he threatened strangling the four of them. "It's your choice." "Don't do it Stan, I'd rather die than lose you again!" Ford tried to reach out to his brother. "But then you'd still lose me because you'll be dead and not me." Stan rebutted just as Kishin Cipher tightened his hold on their loved ones. "So, what's it gonna be you two?" The two of them looked at one another, then at their family & friends before sighing in defeat. "Fine, you can take us. Just leave them alone." Soul declared. "Good choice Piano Keys." the monster congratulated the Demon Scythe before dropping the six of them and shoving Stan & Soul on the wheel. "Mosquito, the Morality Manipulator!" "With pleasure master." Mosquito said bowing before he pulled a level that dropped a glass dome over the two. "I'm so sorry kids, but I'm doing this for you!" Stan cried pounding on the glass. "Promise that you'll come back for us you guys!" Soul added as Kishin Cipher hovered over the dome. "And now, the finishing touch." "Get your filthy hands off my friend!" Kid screamed firing at him with his pistols and prepared a flying kick to the face before the Dream Kishin stopped him mid-attack. "Tsk tsk tsk. Stupid little brother." Kid froze in fear upon hearing Kishin Cipher call him his brother. Who really was Asura and how are they connected? He made a mental note to speak with Death about the matter as he fell to the floor. "Now where were we? Oh yeah!" the monster exclaimed before tapping on the dome sending an electric shock downward. "Now this is where the magic begins!" "Indeed. This version of the Morality Manipulator reacts to Black Blood which takes form by traveling through the holder's bloodstream to their heart & brain, warping their minds and their souls." Mosquito exposited as the painful transformation began. Stan howled in agony as his five o'clock shadow turned into a full beard and felt himself covered in head to toe in golden armor. Soul was in as much agony with his skin turning red, horns growing out of his growing head and his white hair disappearing. Their loved ones could only watch in shock & sadness over this until the shock disappeared signifying the end of the process and the dome ascended back to the ceiling, revealing the two's new forms. "Zoo-wee mama, you two are looking sharp!" Kishin Cipher exclaimed putting hands on both their shoulders. "I think I'll call you the Madness of Greed and you the Madness of Envy!" "Soul, please tell us there's still a bit of you in there." Crona whimpered tiptoeing toward his transformed friend before the new Madness of Envy grabbed him by the wrist. "There is no Soul, only the Ogre!" he hissed before punching Crona in the face. "Seems like the prophecy is down three mortals!" "Three mortals? But we still haven't cracked the bell yet." Dipper mused. "Unless it actually represents..." That was when he came to a realization. "The bell is Preston Northwest!" "Ding ding ding, you're our grand prize winner! Medusa, show him what he's won!" Kishin Cipher screamed imitating a game show host before the witch, now in a fancy red dress & an unamused expression, stuck her arm out with another on her hip toward the mansion entrance. "You my friends get an all-expenses paid vacation to my newer, funner world! Have a good time and never come back!" With a hearty cackle, Kishin Cipher finally tossed all of them out of the mansion, sending them screaming all the way through. "You know, it's times like this where I feel like singing!" he shouted rubbing his hands together before gesturing to Giriko at a piano. "Maestro?" The Demon Saw played a few notes on his instrument beginning a song. "Today's just so wonderful, I feel like chuckling," Kishin Cipher began singing before adding in a chuckle and pulled out a baby duck. "I feel all fuzzy inside like a duckling, full of tarantulas! And now that I'm here," He then prepared to snap his fingers making the portal to the Nightmare Realm grow bigger. "Tonight, it's gonna get...weird!" With that, he snapped his fingers causing the tear to split wide open large enough for all the interdimensional criminals and nightmares he called his friends to escape. Among them were a goblin with a pair of eight-balls for eyes, a literal walking set of teeth, a strange blue creature with a large keyhole shape in his forehead, a geometric shape resembling Bill only he was a blue rhombus, a pink demoness covered in white flames, a large demonic baby, a red hexagon wearing a bowler hat, a monster made up of various colorful squares connected together, a giant walking purple loaf of bread wearing a party hat, a lava lamp-esque demon also wearing a bowler hat, various eyes flying using bat wings and an army of odd human-shaped metallic beings led by four demons. The first demon wore a white top-hat and vaguely resembled a human but with distorted eyes. The second demon was a female that almost appeared nude with various markings on her bare front and a fur cloak. The third had no resemblance to a human and had a waning crescent moon for a head. Finally the fourth monster was all black with multiple sheets on top of one another as clothing. "Look at these creatures, not enough features!" Kishin Cipher continued picking up a kitten. "Cats should breath fire, bears should sing choir!" Squeezing the feline between his fingers making it spit fire, he then turned to a trio of bears who harmonized reluctantly for him. "Hm, very nice!" "Look at this tower, under my power!" The next act of insanity the Dream Kishin committed was turning the water tower into a sentient being with sharp teeth before he turned to the town of Gravity Falls itself, to the horror of the townsfolk. "Look at these people, puny and feeble!" Kishin Cipher then jumped down to town square to corner the fleeing populace and sat down on a nearby building. "Look, I'm just an abomination that's trying to save you." he falsely assured them. "From the delusions society gave you!" He emphasized that line by reversing gravity itself. "Gravity's a lie and so is the sky! Trust in the all-seeing, all-knowing, EYE!" With that, Kishin Cipher then telekinetically made giant portions of land rise from various parts of Gravity Falls to form a large pyramid to serve as his lair before zooming inside to continue his song. "Look at this money, who's that honey?!" he crooned making his own face appear on a dollar bill rather than George Washington. "Look throughout history, how could you miss me?!" He then made a grand gesture toward pictures of various historical events with Bill hastily scribbled into them. "Seriously, I'm like all over the place!" "Look at this weather, I could do better!" he then boasted stepping outside to mess with reality some more. "Mandelbrot rainbows, screaming tornadoes!" Kishin Cipher harmonized drawing an oddly colored rainbow over his pyramid like the logo of a certain film company and spun his finger around to create a perpetually screaming hurricane. "Look at this loser, drinking coffee!" The monster then glared at a brown-haired man dressed in red flannel sipping some joe, blissfully unaware of the chaos around him. "Now it's decaf!" With a wave of Cipher's finger, the man spit out his drink in shock. "Look at these people, calling me evil!" Kishin Cipher reached the conclusion of his song as he faced a group of citizens trying to fight back against him before he carelessly petrified them. "Right back at you, now you're all statues!" Rising up from the ground to take in the insanity around him, Kishin Cipher celebrated his victory as his friends wreaked havoc around the Oregon town. "Everything you know has disappeared, it's gonna get weird!" Meanwhile with the Mystery Meisters, they were recovering from being kicked out of Kishin Cipher's lair before they looked up at the sky in terror as Kishin Cipher began cackling victoriously. There were no words spoken from them all except for Dipper who had only one thing to say. "Weirdmageddon."

And so concludes Quest for the Northwest. Our heroes may have rescued Pacifica, but Kishin Cipher has won both the battle AND the war before either of them started! That's right ladies and gents, we've finally reached the endgame! This party will never stop, so join us next time for the dawn of Weirdmageddon II!

2 notes · View notes

jheselbraum · 6 years

Text

Headcanon that while Mabel decorates for Christmas (come on, it’s essentially glitter: the holiday, she’d be down for decorations) she doesn’t celebrate it and feels really neutral about the holiday.

Dipper, on the other hand, hates Christmas and is really salty about it? Cause more often than not its just two useless weeks off from school and there’s nothing to do, but do they ever get any of the Jewish holidays off from school? Passover, Hannukah, Rosh Hashanah, Sukkot? No!

He also hates Christmas because on Nov 1 half his favorite radio stations stop playing the top 40 hits and start playing Christmas music.

Ford, meanwhile, spent his childhood indifferent to Christmas, but in college he’d come back home from what few holidays he could both get the time off for and afford gas for the trip back to glass shard beach and he’d just be miserable because the more time he spends away from Filbrick the more he realizes how much of a terrible father he is.

And so eventually they get to that first semester break and there just happen to not be any Jewish holidays in that couple week stretch of time that year, and Fiddleford invites him to Tennessee because Ford just does not want to go see his family, and tells him that he doesn’t have to celebrate or participate in any way, but it’d be better than going back to Jersey, right?

So Ford goes down to Tennessee and he’s pretty uncomfortable at first? Like, the McGucket family is loud and southern and there’s quite a bit of culture shock and Fords got no clue what any of what they’re doing means (on top of never having celebrated Christmas, southern Christmas traditions are weird)

And he’s just kind of hanging around Fiddleford and maybe giving him a hard time for forgetting that ham isn’t Kosher and inviting his Jewish ass to a hog farm where most meals are ham-based and then he sees the fucking McGucket family Christmas tree.

And he’s just

“Why the hell is there a pickle. What’s the significance of the pickle.”

And Fiddleford’s just like “Oh you found the Christmas Pickle! That means you get good luck!”

And that was the moment Ford realized that Christmas traditions were all made up and that was when he decided he was going to appropriate Christmas into his own Weirdness Holiday.

And so by the time he gets to Gravity Falls he’s got a box full of like. Teeth and fake cobwebs and baby doll heads and every year his house looks like the Nightmare before Christmas

And you can’t tell me that Gravity Falls, the town that thinks Halloween is so nice they celebrate it twice, wouldn’t fucking love that

Part of the reason everyone knows about the spooky scientist in the woods is because he inadvertently wound up starting a town-wide spooky Christmas tradition

So fast forward a few years and Stan’s set up shop in Gravity Falls. And Christmas is coming up and Stan’s always been pretty neutral about Christmas but he’s like “Okay people pay way more for shit during Christmas I should at least decorate” and he finds a box labeled “Christmas decorations” but it’s full of Halloween decorations and Stan has no reason to believe Ford ever celebrated Christmas so he just thinks he got the decorations at some shitty garage sale and never replaced the box.

So he goes out, steals and/or buys a bunch of Christmas decorations and decks the Shack out and it looks really pretty.

And then the townspeople seem… Really disappointed for some reason? And Stans in the grocery store one day and they’re putting up their decorations and Stan sees the poor guy who sacked with setting up the tree putting just. A rabbit skull on top of the tree instead of an angel and then someone finally asks him why he went with normal decorations this year? He’s the one who started the tradition after all!

Long story short, that was the year Stan came the closest to being discovered and that was the year Stan decided he fucking hated Christmas.

#someone: puts a deerskin wreath on their front door #stan: brother why

508 notes · View notes

nataliedanovelist · 4 years

Text

GF - Where the Crop Circles Grow ch.4

Summary: When things get out of hand at the Pines’ family farm, Ford asks an old college buddy to assist investigating anomalies and Stan hires a farmhand. Who knew asking for help would actually get you somewhere?

For @lemonfodrizzleart. Part of her Farmer AU and featuring her OC, Jackie Asante.

Special shout-out to Mystery Trio Animated’s old video for inspiring me on how to get the ball rolling. (I’m trying a healthy combination of Mystery Trio shit and canon shit.) Thank you so so much for reading and I hope you enjoy it!!!

Ao3 link here.

ch.3 - ch.5

~~~~~~~~~~

“Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”

“Yes, son,” Fiddleford sighed with a smile. “As I’ve told you for the last fifteen minutes, we’re finally here.”

“Yay!” Tate cheered and grinned as the beautiful woods fell out of sight and the four-year-old’s hidden eyes widened at all the open space to play in. He grinned at the sheep and horse and cow and he saw that sign shaped like a pinetree that read “Pines’ Farm” and thought that was funny. The road was made of dirt and rocks and made weird noises under Daddy’s blue truck.

The road led up to a big house with a triangle roof and a porch. On the porch, two men Tate had never seen before sat in chairs and stood, waiting. Suddenly Tate was nervous and shrunk back into his car seat.

Fiddleford noticed this and smiled at his son. Tate was a kind and intelligent boy, but was often quiet, except when he was alone with Fiddleford. It was like he saved all of his words for him. Fiddleford parked and got out, deciding to let Tate move at his own space.

“Fiddleford, glad to see you’ve made it safely!”

“Howdy there, Stanford, good t’see ya!” What started as a handshake turned into a manly hug with smiles and pats on the back. When it was over, Stanford patted his old roommate’s shoulder and said, “Fiddleford, this is my twin brother, Stanley. Stanley, well, you already know who this is.”

It didn’t take a genius to know who Stanley was either, not just considering the fact he did in fact look like Ford’s twin without being identical, but Fiddleford had heard enough stories and seen enough pictures to recognize this guy from a mile away. “Pleased t’finally meet ya, Stanley.” And he held out a hand to shake.

Stan laughed, took it, and shook him possibly slightly too rough. “Ha! Just Stan’ll do, Fiddleford… Jeez, that’s a mouth full. Mind McGucket or Fiddler or Fidds.”

Fiddleford winced. “Anythang but Fiddler since I ain’t one.”

Stan snapped his fingers and said sarcastically. “Darn. N’ here I was thinkin’ we could put a band together, with Ford’s piano skills n’ my beautiful voice.”

Ford snorted while Fiddleford smiled unsurely. “Well, I do play the banjo…”

“Great! We’ll call ourselves the Three Cowboys! I’ll get to writin’ our first song later.” Stan peered over Fiddleford’s shoulder and at the truck. “But first, did you even brin’ the squirt with you?”

Fiddleford looked back at the trunk and could barely see the top of his son’s head in the front passenger’s seat. “Nah, he’s there. He’s just shy.”

“Ah, well he’ll join us when he’s ready.” Ford said and moved to the trunk. “Here, let me help you with your things and show you to your room, buddy.”

“Well, thank ya kindly, Stanford, I reckon you can get this one. Oh, here, I’ll take that one, it mighty heavy.”

Ford and Fiddleford were chatting away like a pair of school girls as they went into the house, arms full of luggage. The McGuckets sure did bring a lot of crap. Stan shook his head with a smile and moved to the trunk, but on the way he swore he saw a little boy with bangs over his eyes looking at him, but then ducking under the car’s window again. Stan smiled and softly knocked on the glass. “Y’ello?”

The boy didn’t appear, but he did crank the window down. “Hi.”

“I’m Stan.”

“Tate.”

“Nice to meet you.” Stan said. “You know, your daddy n’ my brother are close friends.”

“I know.” The boy said quietly. “Daddy says we’re gonna live here a bit.”

“Yup.” Stan said happily, and then asked, “You reckon you’re okay with that?”

“Uh, huh.”

Stan had no idea what it was like to be shy as a kid. Ford might have, which is why he was inclined to let the boy get out of the truck whenever he pleased, but Stan wondered if maybe all it took was someone to show that they were happy he was here and would be even happier to see him happy. He went to the trunk, grabbed a big suitcase with Tate’s name on the tag, and then went back to the window. “C’mon, kid. I got a surprise for you in your new room.”

That got the boy to perk up. He poked his little head up, just enough to look at Stan’s soft smile and outstretched hand, and Tate grinned. “Okay.” He hopped out and closed the door behind him and took Stan’s hand.

Stan squeezed his little hand reassuringly and led the boy into the house. They crossed the living room together to get to the back hallway and Stan led him to the other bedroom, the one connected to Jackie’s Jack and Jill bathroom. Tate gasped with joy to find a bunk bed by the door with a new knitted blanket at the foot. He climbed up the ladder and jumped into the fluffy feather-stuffed mattress and laughed. “Wowie, Zowie! I get a bunk bed?!”

Stan barked a laugh and sat his suitcase on the bottom bunk. As a kid he had no idea that a lot of other kids in the world thought this was the coolest thing to have in a bedroom, it was just convenient for the Pines twins, but now they were grown and perfectly happy with two full beds in their attic bedroom so Tate could have a twin-sized bed in his new room. “You sure do. Don’t tell Ford I told you this, but he knitted you that blanket and if you’ll look in that chest there’s some more surprises for you.”

Tate scurried down to the floor and t the toy chest under the window. He gasped as he found it half-full with brand new toys. There was a jump-rope, some chalk, a wooden train, complete with engine, cars, and a caboose, and a football and a baseball with a bat. Tate’s voice was caught in his throat, leaving his mouth to open and close like a fish. He knew he should say thank you, but he was left speechless due to all of the nice new things.

“So, whatcha think, squirt?” Stan asked, and when Tate looked at him the farmer knew what the boy was trying to say.

~~~~~~~~~~

In Ford’s favorite workspace, the thinking parlor, there was a desk that used to be filled to the brim with Pa’s work-papers, but with the deed tightly secure in the family’s safe and after a furlough cleansing, there was now only one drawer dedicated to important old documents and the rest of the ancient desk was free to use for Ford’s investigations and ideas. Ford and Fiddleford stood there now, the Southern engineer watching his best friend pull things out from here and there, as if preparing for a school presentation. Fiddleford smiled as he saw how little his friend had changed.

Ford had suggested to leave Fiddleford to unpack once he showed him his room, assuming he wanted to rest after the trip, but Fiddleford had insisted that Ford show him the plans and Ford understood on a personal level; he was sure Fiddleford wanted to forget his problems for a moment and be distracted with an issue he can actually solve. So Ford laid out a map of Gravity Falls with little red xs sprinkled here and there and he pulled out a red marker and uncapped it.

“Right,” Ford started as he smiled at his old roommate. “As I said over the phone, Gravity Falls is a friendly enough town, but it has got to be one of the strangest towns there are. I hadn’t realized how strange it was until leaving for Backupsmore and I realized that some things weren’t normal. Not to mention, if you look at the map, a lot of anomalies I’ve noticed occur away from our farm, so as children it’s not like we were fully exposed to them.”

Fiddleford did in fact notice that there were no red xs on the Pines’ farm, or close to the barrier. There were one or two in the actual town itself, but most of the xs were in the woods and in the mountains. Probably whatever creatures were out there purposely stayed in the woods, like any other wildlife, to avoid mankind. Fiddleford nodded and said, “Alright, but what sort of anomalies have ya noticed?”

Ford pulled out a journal with a golden six-fingered hand on it and opened it to showcase some very well drawn sketches. Fiddleford stared to find unicorns, eye bats, two-headed snakes, dark vague shadows, and possibly a werewolf? Fiddleford blinked and muttered, “Uh… ya… ya sure it’s…”

“I swear on my life,” Ford said seriously. “I’ve seen some strange things out there, Fiddleford. I haven’t had a chance to get a proper look at any of it, but I’m hoping with your help I may finally be able to catch something, or at least some solid evidence, that proves I’m not crazy.”

Fiddleford detected a hint of bitterness by the end of it. He wouldn’t be surprised if anyone else Ford had explained this to had written him off as a whack-job. Fiddleford smiled and patted his shoulder. “Hey, I believe ya. Reckon somebody’s gotta catalog these critters. Why not it be us, right? So, suppose tomorrow mornin’ we just get on out there n’ explore the woods for some weird critters?”

Ford smiled back with determination and excitement gleaming in his eyes. “That’s the idea.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Tate was watching TV in the living room while Jackie was in the kitchen with Stan by her side. Yes, Jackie did all the cooking and was good at it, but Stan knew how to make some stuff edible and it seemed like a fair trade; if Stan was going to teach Jackie how to run a farm, she might as well teach him a thing or two about cooking.

“So, what can you cook, Stanley?” Jackie asked while she seasoned some flour that was already in a big paper bag.

“Besides Stancakes?” He clarified. “Uh, I can do grits. That’s about it, missy.”

Jackie giggled good-naturedly and said, “Well, first thang you gotta know ‘bout cooking is this fellow right here.” And she held up a big container of Crisco. “The best thang they did since put mayonnaise in a jar.” Jackie spooned some of the thick white stuff out and put it on the hot skillet to melt like butter. “Gum in your hair? Squeaky door hinge? Crisco.”

When Jackie’s back was turned to work on the chicken, Stan stuck his finger in some of the Crisco; it looked pretty, almost like frosting for a cake. To hide what he did, Stan stuck his finger in his mouth; the taste wasn’t great.

“Bags under your eyes? Wanna soften some scaly feet? Crisco.” Jackie added as she dipped a breast in the egg wash then put it in the bag, then did the process again with another piece of chicken. “But it’s best for frying chicken. Mm! I love fried chicken! Gotta be my favorite! It takes a lot of work to make, but it tastes so good and it’s always worth it! Well, worth it to me, anyways.” Jackie rolled up the bag tight and held it out to Stan. “Shake that.”

“Oh, sure.” Stan took the bag filled with chicken and flour. He shook it and found that once he got a rhythm for it it was actually kind of fun. With a stupid grin on his face he rattled the bag really heavy, making Jackie laugh.

“Alright alright, Stan, the chicken’s already dead.” Jackie took the bag and opened it to see how well seasoned it was. “Yup, she dead. And well dressed for the funeral, too.”

Stan laughed and the timer dinged. “Oh, will you take out the cornbread, please?” Jackie asked as she stirred the green beans, the Crisco not quite fully melted yet, but almost.

“You got it.” Stan slipped on some oven mitts and opened the oven. There sat a beautiful skillet full of Mexican cornbread. This wasn’t just cornbread, this was cornbread with spices and bits of corn. The smell made Stan’s mouth water like a dog and he happily put it on a folded up towel on the table. “Sweet Lord!”

“Give it a minute to cool, Lee, geez!” Jackie said, able to read his mind and know he wanted to pick at it.

Stan stuck his tongue at the back of her head and watched her fry the chicken. The grease bubbled around the chicken and flew everywhere, like firecrackers. Stan took a step back as he got sprayed a little bit, meanwhile all Jackie did was flinch and asked, “Will you call the boys for dinner? It'll be ready by the time they get in here.”

“Sure.” Everyone was inside the house, so there was no sense in ringing the triangle; Stan poked his head in the living room to tell Tate dinner was ready and then knocked on the parlor door to tell the nerds that food was ready.

By the time Stan came back with Tate by his side, the table was set with pitchers of sweet tea and water on the table, big bowl of green beans, the skillet full of Mexican cornbread, and Jackie had just flipped the chicken. Stan licked his lips and playfully fought with Tate for space in the kitchen sink as they washed up.

Fiddleford followed Ford to the bathroom to wash and then to the kitchen. He stared happily at the set-up before him, and then his eyes widened at the stranger in the room. A dark-skinned woman used tongs to lift fried chicken out of a skillet and onto a tray lined with paper towels. She wore an apron over leans and a white t-shirt, her past-shoulder-length black hair tied in a loose, low ponytail to keep her hair away from her cooking. Fiddleford smiled; he had known the twins had hired help but he had no clue who that was; he had accidentally assumed it was another man.

The woman set the tray of steaming chicken on the table, wiped her forehead dry, and smiled at Fiddleford. “You must be Ford’s friend. I’m Jackie.” She introduced and held out her hand.

Fiddleford gently took it and shook her head with a smile. “Fiddleford H. McGucket, ma’am. It’s a pleasure t’meet ya.”

Jackie’s cheeks turned rosy at his politeness and invited him to sit. Soon they were all happily digging into the delicious dinner and enjoyed every bite.

Fiddleford was extremely impressed. The chicken crunched happily in his mouth and the chicken’s meat was soft and delicious. The green beans were flavored with bacon and onions, and the Mexican cornbread was very good. As Fiddleford munch on his bread while he listened to Stan tell a story, he couldn’t help but think how much better the cornbread would be with some butter. He checked the table for it, and perhaps he was overlooking it, but he didn’t see it.

“Jackie, may I have some butter, please.” Fiddleford asked politely when Stan was taking a break from his story to drink some water.

Jackie smiled and nodded. “Sure.” Let’s forget the fact that Ford was sitting next to Fiddleford and was the closest to the fridge. Jackie didn’t even notice, and she casually got the butter-dish out of the fridge, sat with it, and handed it to the southerner as he dipped his head and whispered “thank you” as to not interrupt Stan.

By the end of the meal, Stan was patting his gut happily and sighing heavily. “Yup. Jackie, I think you get better with every meal.”

While Jackie stood and took her dishes to the sink, her face grew warmer.

“Yes, that was delicious, Jackie, thank you.” Ford praised.

“Well,” Jackie opened the fridge and pulled something out. “I hope everyone left room for dessert.”

“Mm! Pie!” Stan gasped happily and rubbed his hands together; it didn’t matter if it killed him, he’d make room for Round 2.

“Lemon Meringue.” Jackie explained, sitting the pie down on the table as she took up the mostly-empty bowl of green beans and began to put the vegetables in a smaller container for the fridge; leftovers made for an excellent lunch.

Mouth watering and eyes as big as dinner plates, once Jackie sat down the small plates, forks, and pie knife on the table, Stan cut right into the beautiful dessert while Ford began to collect dishes.

Fiddleford, too full for pie at the moment, stood and stretched his arms over his head. “So, should we get back to work, Stanford?”

“Sorry, let me finish these dishes first.” Ford said as he began to clean. “Got to thank Jackie for the meal the best way I can.”

Jackie lightly shoved his shoulder as she brought over the skillet of cornbread and began to move it to a plastic container. “Hey, I don’t wanna eat canned meat or TV dinners any more than you do.”

“You know, Tate,” Stan mumbled with pie in his cheeks like a chipmunk. “If you’ll look in that cabinet there should be a jar with holes if you wanna catch some firefl-...”

“FIREFLIES?!” Tate excitedly interrupted, drained his cup of water, and dashed to where Stan said the jar would be. Lo and behold two jars with holes poked into the lids shined and Tate snatched one up. “Daddy, wanna catch some with me?” The boy pleaded.

“Sure, son,” Fiddleford said with a smile, playing with his boy sounding much better than returning to work that can be done another time, so they hurried out the kitchen door and were amazed to find dozens of blinking bugs out on the farm.

Tate grinned and ran with his father admiring the scene. Stan decided he could enjoy his pie just as much on the doorstep as he could at the table, and he took his dessert with him and sat with the door open to watch the McGuckets play. Jackie and Ford got a nice view of the scene from the sink and happily chatted away as they cleaned the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan yawned into his hand and he hummed a little song to himself. “Doo, doo de, doo, doo… gettin’ a midnight snack, gonna eat some…”

Stan turned on the hall-light, his eyes still sensitive to bright lights, so he could see his way into the kitchen without bumping into the table or walking into the fridge. He gasped in horror and then growled like an angry bulldog at the open fridge and spilt content. “Pie!” He finished his song bitterly with one knee before the open fridge. “Oh, c’mon! I was gonna eat that! Actually, this part here still looks good…”

With no one to judge him, Stan scooped up some lemon-filling with two fingers and hummed with satisfaction as the delicious taste grazed his mouth. On his feet again, Stan was about to grab some paper towels to start cleaning up the mess when something ran across his foot.

Stan yelled and jumped about a foot in the air before grabbing a hanging pan from the wall and holding it as he would a weapon. He first thought that the pie fell off the cramped shelf in the fridge, opening the door, but now he wondered if they had a late-night visitor. Wouldn’t be the first time a raccoon got into the house.

Stan carefully moved to where he knew a light-switch for the oven’s light was and he braced himself for whatever was coming. He flicked it on and saw something out of the corner of his eye run into the hall. Did a chicken escape the coop? “C’mere you…” Stan growled and ran down the hall.

Nothing appeared on the stairs for the attic, or further down the hall for Jackie’s room, so maybe whatever it was went into the living room. Pan still at the ready for some whacking, Stan crept into the living room and relaxed his old boxing stance to find it empty. The farmer scratched at his mullet to try to think what could have slipped away from him and gotten into the fridge. Stan was in the hallway, going to put the pan away and clean up the pie, when he noticed a small draft and he checked the front door. Sure enough, something had broken the screen in the screen door.

Stan groaned and closed and locked the main door. Tate must have forgotten to close the door when he went to the truck to get something for bed. Well, after chores Stan would just have to repair the hole.

When Stan re-entered his attic bedroom, his eyes immediately caught his twin asleep on top of a book, a flashlight on the floor by his dangling arm. That nerd had a bad habit of never stopping until his body made him. Shaking his head with a smile, Stan slammed the door loudly on purpose, making Ford jump awake with a grunt. “Huh?! Wh… Stanley?”

“You know you’ll sleep better on your pillow, not a book, right?” Stan asked as he took off his robe and let it fall on the floor by his bed, leaving on his boxers and t-shirt.

Ford snorted and readjusted his lopsided glasses. “What were you doing up?” He yawned into his palm.

“Well I was gonna have some more pie,” Stan said as he sat on his bed. “But somethang raided our fridge n’ ruined my midnight snack.”

“Was it a raccoon again?” Ford asked as he folded his glasses and put them on his nightstand by his book.

“Maybe, but I got a glimpse of it before it ran off n’ the little bit I did see didn’t look nothin’ like a black n’ white thief.”

“Well…” Ford yawned again and said dozily, “It’s too early to think. Goodnight.” And he laid on his right side, his back to his brother, and quickly fell asleep.

Stan chuckled as he shook his head and laid down for some shut-eye.

~~~~~~~~~~

After morning chores, Jackie walked in through the kitchen-door to grab something when she thought she heard the sound of a hammer down the hall. She peeked and found Stan on one knee in front of the door, working on putting a new screen over the door. “Broken screen?” She clarified as she stood by his side, her hands behind her back.

“Yeah, something chewed through n’ got into the house.” Stan shivered as he recalled the foggy memory. “It ran across my foot. Ugh, I can still feel it’s little fingers.”

“Yikes.” Jackie said and looked into the living room to find Tate coloring at the card table. “Well, since that pie’s gone, I’m gonna pick some blackberries for a cobbler. Should I make Tate help me or you got him?”

“Nah, some of those berries aren’t ready, you better pick ‘em.” Stan said as he stood up straight and wiped his hands clean. “I’m gonna take him with me into town to get some stuff from the store. Any requests?”

“Oh! Can you get some hot chilis, please?” Jackie quickly remembered.

“Sure. OY! Squirt!” Stan called and leaned against the doorway. “Wanna go into town with me? You can ride shotgun in the Stanmobile if you want?”

Tate grinned like a Cheshire cat and yelped, “Okay!” and then scooped up his crayons and book to put them away in his room.

“Sure you don’t wanna take Truffles into town?” Jackie asked, remembering Stan’s comment that the horse needs to travel every so often.

“With Tate?” Stan snorted. “Nah, wild thing isn’t ready for a kid. Let me break him a bit more n’ then we’ll see. Maybe take him out in the woods tomorrow. Maybe take a gal with me.” He added with a wink, making Jackie smile like an idiot as she shoved him in a playful manner.

“Well then good luck finding a date in town.” And she went back into the kitchen to grab a basket to berry-pick with.

Meanwhile, while Jackie worked on blackberry cobbler and Stan took Tate into town, Ford and Fiddleford were in the woods, equipped with a compass, a map, Ford’s journal, and a backpack on Fiddleford. A few days before Fiddleford arrived, Ford had placed several cameras in a variety of areas to try to get some idea of what they’re dealing with, a lead of some kind or evidence that there was something out there.

“Okay, that’s 1A, 1B, and 1C.” Ford checked off the map, his journal under his arm. “2A, 2B, and 2C were well intact. We just need 3A, 3B, and 3C. This way.”

“Ya sure ya know where you’re goin’?” Fiddleford checked. No offense to his friend, but all these oaks and pines looked the same to him.

“Don’t worry, I know these woods like the back of my hand.” Ford eased. “I used to spend a lot of time here with Stanley as kids. The trees are a great hiding place from bullies.” He chuckled at a memory and decided to share. “One time, we climbed up a big pinetree to hide from a group of kids, when one of the branches broke off and landed right on one of the kid’s head. Stanley says Pines got to stick together.”

Fiddleford laughed at the little joke as he followed Ford along the woods. They came to a small clearing and Ford stopped. “Here we are. Okay, up there should be Camera 3B. If you’ll get 3A down there, I’ll get 3B.”

“Gotcha.” Fiddleford found Camera 3A tucked into some leaves. He looked around for a third camera, and again, maybe he was just needing new glasses, but he didn’t see one. “Uh, Stanford, where’d ya put 3C?”

Up on a branch and untying a camera, Ford called and pointed. “Down there, by the rock.”

Fiddleford shuffled his feet in case he were to step on the camera, but he looked around and even felt the brush with his hands was startled to turn up empty-handed. “Uh… I ain’t findin’ it.”

“That’s odd, hold on, buddy, I’ll help you look.” Ford said and hopped down with the camera to search for Camera 3C. It truly wasn’t where Ford had placed it and it was nowhere around the clearing.

“Maybe a deer or rabbit took it?” Fiddleford speculated.

“Or a unicorn! Or a gremlin! Or a goblin!” Ford gasped with wonder sparkling in his brown eyes. “Or both!”

“Calm down there, Dr. Crackpot.” Fiddleford chuckled and made Ford smile. “Let's just get this film developed before we get our hopes up higher than a Georgia pine.”

“Great, now you’re doing it, too.”

“No! No, I just… it was either that or higher than the Empire State buildin’, n’ we’re in the woods…”

“With a Pines.”

“... with a lot o’ pinetrees.” Fiddleford laughed at their fun babble and they followed the compass for the farm.

By the time Jackie was pulling a sweet-smelling cobbler out of the oven and about to go outside to check on the sheep, Tate and Stan came home with some groceries. Tate immediately dug around a bag once it was placed on the table, pulled out some Gummy Koalas, and ran off. Jackie gave Stan a skeptical look, to which the farmer just shrugged and pulled out a white paper bag full of hot red peppers.

“Oh, great, thanks.”

“No problem, missy.” Stan said as Jackie lunged a hand into the bag and he pulled out a box of freezy-pops to put in the freezer. “What, gonna make chili? Mexican food? Spicy fried chicken?”

“Nope.” And Jackie bit into a pepper and munched on it with a big smile.

Stan yelped in shock and quickly shut himself up, but that didn’t stop him from breaking a bead of sweat and his eye twitching at her. “What in Moses’s name are you doing?”

“Having a snack.” Jackie explained as she took a second bite, only leaving the stem. “It’ll be awhile ‘til dinner.”

“What, apples n’ bananas not good enough for you?”

“Nope.” Jackie repeated and bit into another one.

“Gah!” Stan yelled and grabbed his hair as he stared at her. “How do you do that?! Stop that!”

“Nope.” Jackie said a third time and happily finished her second chili.

With shivers on his back and an impressed smile that was impossible to miss, Stan left Jackie to shake her head and munch on her snack in peace.

Tate, at this time, was running into the living room, hoping to eat his candy in front of the TV, but his daddy and his daddy’s friend were in the living room already, stringing pictures up and they had a bunch of adult-looking equipment. “Daddy, whatcha doin’?” He asked.

“Hey there, sport.” Fiddleford said and took the time to give him a side hug as he watched a photo develop in the liquid-filled pan. “Just developin’ these photos here. They’ll help us figure out what we’re dealin’ with.”

“Oh. Can I help?” The boy asked hopefully.

“I don’t know if there anythang ya can do.” Fiddleford moved his back to his son and smiled. “Whatcha got there?”

Tate grinned and showed his daddy the gummies. “Uncle Stan gave ‘em t’me! He’s real nice.”

“He sure is. Did ya make sure t’tell him that n’ thank him.”

“Uh, huh.”

“Good.” And Fiddleford ruffled his hat to mess with his hair.

Ford smiled at the father and son duo and resumed his work, recording their findings. None of the pictures so far got a full image of anything, but glimpses here and there showed that something strange was out there. Ford stared at one picture that showed someone very short and what looked like the bottom of a beard. And in another photo, when Ford looked back on it, he realized that wasn’t a twig; it was a pointy hat. “Fiddleford, come look at this.”

Fiddleford moved away from his son and towards his friend and he stared at the image that had caught Ford’s attention. “Oh… oh my…”

“I know.”

“Whatcha reckon that there is?”

Tate looked at the picture and noticed the red circle on another one. He grinned and called out, “Gnomes!”

The three turned to look back at the doorway of the living room and they saw Stan laughing at them, shaking his head. “Gnomes?! Ma used to use ‘em for an excuse for when socks went missin’, remember Sixer? There ain’t no such thing as gnomes. Except the stone ones you get at the store.”

“Ya don’t believe in gnomes, Uncle Stan?” Tate asked.

“Stanley doesn’t believe in the supernatural.” Ford answered with a roll of his eyes and he tried to resume his work. “Even as kids you couldn’t spook him with stories about monsters or ghosts or anything like that. But show him a picture of a r-...”

“Alright, that’s enough outta you, Poindexter!” Stan scooped up Tate, making the boy giggle, and held him under his arm. “I ain’t gonna let you poison this poor kid’s brain with nerd talk. C’mon, I’ll show you how to rangle in sheep.”

“Be careful, son.” Fiddleford called after them. “N’ stay outta the stalls! Don’t mess with Truffles!”

“Okay.”

The evening that came was cool and pleasant, perfect porch-sitting weather. Stan finished his freezy-pop first and read the joke that was now revealed to him for finishing his treat. “Okay okay, what is a ghost’s favorite ice-cream flavor?”

“Oh!” Tate gasped with his hand in the air, sitting on the steps with a banana-flavored pop in his hand. “Oh! Boo-berry!”

“It’s definitely Boo-berry.” Fiddleford said, sitting next to his son.

“How about cookies and scream?” Ford guessed.

Stan chuckled as he rocked in his chair. “I’m gonna say Corpse-mellon. N’ it… huh.” Stan looked all over the stick, but there was no answer to the joke. “It’s blank.”

“Blank stick?” Ford paraphrased. “That’s a bad omen, Stanley. Be careful, something terrible might happen.”

“Yeah,” Stan said slowly and shook his head. “You’re off your rocker, Sixer.”

“I am not!”

Jackie, who had been standing as she ate, sneakily pushed her foot down on the back of Ford’s rocker. On reflex, he leaned forward and Jackie released just in time for the six-fingered nerd to lose his balance and fall forward and on his face. The whole gang laughed while Ford got up red-faced. Stan patted Jackie’s back and howled with laughter, “I love this gal!”

~~~~~~~~~~

Jackie was checking the cornfields to make sure everything was in order when she could hear some familiar sheep sounds. She stretched her neck to look past some corn and she saw little Dot wiggling past the short fence and skip into the woods. Jackie yelled in shock and ran after the lamb, grateful that this time it wasn't storming and the sun was shining brightly. “Gosh darn it, Dot! Your ma sucks at keeping an eye on you!”

Because Jackie was so close this time and not blinded by rain, she actually managed to scoop up the lamb quickly. She smacked the lamb a little bit, Stan giving her permission to spank any naughty animals, and she hugged Dot so she would know she was forgiven. A snap of a twig made Jackie jerk her head upward and she listened and kept her eyes sharp. Now she knew Ford and Fiddleford were out in the woods again, close to a breakthrough according to the nerds, so she was sure it was one of them heading home or passing by. How funny it would be to come across each other. So you can imagine how shocked Jackie was to find a little bearded man standing on a rock and looking up at her.

Jackie bit her lip to keep from yelling; she wouldn’t like it if someone yelled at her due to the shock of her appearance, and she didn’t want to scare this weird creature away. The pointy hat and beard told Jackie that this was definitely a gnome. It’s beard was all over the place and gray and the gnome had a big-ish nose and a bit of an overbite with some misshapen teeth, but his eyes, though lopsided and slightly cross eyed, were warm and this creature gave off a kind atmosphere.

Jackie smiled and got on one knee with the lamb in her arms. “Hello.”

The gnome lifted a little arm and wiggled his fingers at her politely. Jackie freed a hand and held it out to him to either shake or hop on. Whichever he wanted. The gnome smiled at her and hopped up on her palm, sitting with his hands prompting him up from behind.

“What a nice lil’ guy.” Jackie complimented. “What’s your name?”

“Shmebulock. Senior.” The gnome croaked.

“I’m Jackie, nice to meet you.” The human smiled while the lamb sniffed the air around Shmebulock. “Wow, a real gnome. I’ve got a friend who’d love to meet you.”

“Shmebulock.”

Jackie raised an eyebrow, but decided to let it go. Maybe gnomes were limited in speech. Before she could ask another question, Shmebulock whistled loudly. Jackie barely had time to register that she was faced with dozens of other gnomes and she screamed in horror when they leaped from the trees for her and Dot.

Jackie’s scream was heard by Ford and Fiddleford, who were currently setting up the cameras again, dropped everything, no questions asked, and ran as fast as they could for Fiddleford’s truck and drove in the direction they feared Jackie was in danger. There was a thick dirt road leading deeper into the woods the men ran on and they saw a truly unusual sight at the edge of the trees.

Jackie was running for her life with a lamb in her arms, a crowd of gnomes behind her. Fiddleford stopped the car and Jackie hopped in the truck before it sped off to try to lose the gnomes. She huffed and puffed, her heart going as fast as the truck, and Ford opened the back window to check on her from the passenger’s seat. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” Jackie breathed and Dot “bah”ed happily.

Ford smiled at them and gasped with amazement and wonder as one huge gnome, made out of dozens of small gnomes, ran after them, looking like Santa Clause on his period, red all over with sharp teeth and hat and a big beard. “Wow.” He awed and pulled out his journal to begin sketching.

“DRIVE, FIDDS!” Jackie yelled.

The giant threw gnomes like darts and some of them landed in the truck. While Jackie kicked one off the car, Shmebulock Senior was being slammed against the steering wheel by Fiddleford’s hand, but then one leaped on his face, building him and veering the truck off course. Ford punched the gnome off of his friend, only leaving behind a black eye on the driver.

“Thanks, Ford.” Fidds groaned.

“Don’t mention it. Hey, what’s that?” Ford asked and pointed ahead.

The three humans screamed as the truck ran right into an oak tree. They then held their heads and groaned as they stumbled out of the truck. Poor Fiddleford was a nervous wreck over the wreck. “My truck!”

“Don’t worry, I can fix it.” Ford tried to comfort his friend, ignoring the tire that just popped and the bumper that just fell off. “Probably.”

“At least we lost… oh, no we didn’t.” Jackie held Dot closer to her chest as the giant gnome was before them.

Ford stood in front of Jackie, Fiddleford, and Dot protectively, his arms outstretched, as the gnomes broke away to better surround them and insure there was no way out. The little men of the forest growled and snarled like animals, until a loud voice commanded silence. “ENOUGH!”

Slithering out from the shadows like a snake, but rather on a long white beard than a scaly body, came a gnome much older looking and much different from the other gnomes. This gnome carried a staff with a mushroom on top, wore purple instead of red, had a crown and a red cape, and his voice was as sour as lemons and his eyes were green with envy. Those green, empty, creepy eyes were on Jackie, and while all the gnomes bowed to their king, this guy dipped his head respectively to her.

“My Queen!” He cheered happily. “The time has come to fulfill your destiny!”

“EW, WHAT?!” Jackie yelled. “Nu, huh! No way!”

“Leave her alone!” Ford demanded.

“As it is written, in the Prophecy of Shmizzledorph…”

“Go away!” Fiddleford interrupted.

“... the Prophecy…!” But Ford threw one of his boots at the gnome and the king yelped out a sharp, “Ouch! Alright, fine! You want her back? There’s only one way…”

The gnomes around them giggled, anticipating that they would walk away with a new queen tonight. Jackie stuck out his tongue at them.

“You must answer… A RIDDLE!”

Ford, Fiddleford, and Jackie all blinked at the over-exaggerating king. Ford shrugged and said, “Fine, I like a good riddle.”

“What… IS A GHOST’S FAVORITE ICE-CREAM FLAVOR?!”

Now the humans were nervous. Nervous, surprised, and maybe a little bit impressed. The three huddled like they were about to play football and rambled off ideas.

“Boo-berry!” Fiddleford whispered.

“Cookies and scream!” Ford hissed.

“Stanford, go with Fidds’ answer.” Jackie voted quietly.

“But what if it’s not boo-berry?” Ford asked nervously. “Then you’ll have to be that creep’s queen.”

“But what if it’s not cookies and scream?” Jackie returned.

With a squeeze on his old roommate’s shoulder, Fiddleford gave Ford that softer facial expression and whispered, “Stanford, trust me.”

Ford thought for a moment, took in a deep breath, and nodded. The team broke away and Ford faced the king who was elevated by his own beard. “Boo-berry?”

The gnome was silent. Ford feared he was wrong, but then, “IMPOSSIBAAAAAAAAAAAAALE!”

The humans held each other as the gnomes were then all turned into stone, the little statues they were destined to become. With Fiddleford sandwiched between Ford and Jackie, they watched as the king turned to stone and a little bird landed peacefully on his outstretched hand.

“Huh,” Fiddleford quipped when their protective hug was loosening. “I didn’t actually think that would work.”

The trio worked together to push Fiddleford’s truck back home, but not without a souvenir. As Ford placed a gnome on the porch step, Jackie sat Dot down and let the lamb skip off to join the other sheep. “Thanks for saving my butt back there, guys.”

“Hey, we wouldn’t let you get dragged off into the woods to marry that creep.” Fiddleford reassured her teasingly with a light shove on the shoulder.

“And really, we should be thanking you.” Ford gently corrected. “Thanks to you we finally got what was on our cameras! And I have plenty to write about in the journal! Thank you, Jackie.”

The only lady on the farm couldn’t keep the smile off her face until Stan slammed the door open with Tate by his side. “Whoa, what happened to you three?” He asked, noting the scrapes, Fiddleford’s black eye, and the leaves in Jackie’s hair. “You get hit by a bus or something?”

“If we told you, you wouldn’t believe us, Stanley.” Ford said daringly, his eyes sparkling with mischief and a prideful smirk on his smug face.

Stan grinned and crossed his arms over his chest while Tate ran into Fiddleford’s arms for a hug. “Try me.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford yawned into his six-fingered hand as he ruffled his brown hair and wandered towards the kitchen. “Mm, thank Moses Stan didn’t eat all the strawberry cobbler.”

He turned on the light and gasped to find a gnome standing by the open fridge, helping himself to the cobbler, which was lying on the floor. The gnome screeched and scampered past his feet and Ford ran after it to see it run through a hole in the screendoor. The young scientist hurried out the door and watched the gnome run off into the woods. The stone-gnome on the step was gone.

“This is bad.”

#GF #gravity falls #i know im not funny but a girl can try #farmer au #gift #gnomes #lemonfodrizzleart #lemon is MY queen #love you girl!#i love ALL of you!#fanfiction

25 notes · View notes