Regreats

In hindsight Mark and Anna Pines could acknowledge they hadn’t handled thing very well. At the time they had thought they were but nowadays where there’s plenty of information on how to deal with the supernatural and where there are pamphlets and internet forms about the do’s and Don’ts if your child becomes Preter (several they visited after they found out their granddaughter was a witch) they knew they hadn’t.

Back then they were flying blind. They made decisions they thought we right, for their kids own good. Knowing what they know now their logic hadn’t been as sound as the thought.

It may sound strange but the problem hadn’t been Dipper’s situation, not really. Yes, their son becoming a demon had been the elephant in the room but no matter how big an elephant is, it’s a lot easier to ignore when it’s literally invisible.

No, the problem was Mable most of the time. Why well…

For starters whatever it was in the Pines family that attracted weird hadn’t skipped Mark and accepting that your twelve-year-old knows better than you can be hard to say the least. That had been the cause of more than a few of their augments Mable suggesting and often outright doing herself a seemingly random solution to an issue. Cue augments about putting herself in danger, getting involved when she shouldn’t and not doing as she’s told countered with claims they didn’t trusting her and she knew what she was doing.

There was a part of them that wonders if had thing been different, would it have been as hard to be believe Dipper. If it had been their practical bookish son and not their creative head in the clouds daughter would the solutions have seemed so random would they have listen more. That thought kept them both up at night.

The other big problem had been her reaction to… well… everything.

Dipper for as little as they saw him seemed as freaked out as they where by his changes. It was wrong they knew to be glad to see fear and panic in their child but it was reassuring to see he was having trouble adjusting too. Even when they couldn’t see him they often heard one-sided reassurances and comfort, that was normal, that’s how someone should react to all this.  

Mable on the other hand had taken everything in her stride either being blasé or excited. That wasn’t normal. It wasn’t normal to exclaim happily “Oh! These are Dippers teeth, they fell out and got replaced fangs! I’m keeping them this box isn’t it pretty!” or “Hey look!” and arrive downstairs holding a taking one-eyed star that was apparently her brother. It wasn’t just Dipper either that was her reaction to everything vampires, werewolves, pixies and gnomes big, small dangerous or cute. Was there something wrong with her?

Sending them back to Gravity Falls had been the right decision that they were sure of. Stan had done a wonderful job. There Mable had a good life a job in the library a business of her own married to a good man with three precious kids of her own. She wouldn’t have had that here, she’d been already been ostracised and isolated when she left it could only have grown worse. Dipper seemed happier too as best they could tell it might just be he was getting strong enough to become corporal more often now. The weren’t sure how they would have handled that here and it wouldn’t have helped Mable situation one bit.

Even now it was Mable they worried about.

Tales of Alcor could be dismissed as the cults own fault or demon instincts Dipper couldn’t control. It was uncomfortable to hear these stories but it was a known quantity easy to understand and explain away.

But tales of Mizar the Gleeful how do you reconcile that with your human child. It wasn’t possession they where seen side by side that was all Mable and that was truly terrifying.

So, no they hadn’t handled Dippers transformation well. The downside of that invisible elephant is its really easy to be blindside when you forget it’s there and run into it. But Mable they didn’t know how to handle Mable anymore. Had she always been like this and Dipper had diluted the effect made it hard to notice or had the trauma of the Transcendence caused it? they didn’t know and it disturbed them.

That was why unspoken was this thought they never acknowledged this terrible evil thought that haunted their dreams would it have been better if it was Mable. If Mable became the demon and Dipper got to stay would thing have been simpler easier to deal with if it had been self-conscious worrying Dipper who came home that summer he wouldn’t acted so odd, he would have handled thing better, he was mostly normal it was wrong unfair they knew that but it was always there and the worst part.

The worst part was DIPPER KNEW.

____________________________________________________________________________________

This is from the parent’s perspective so while we know Mable’s just putting on a brave face when she deals with them they don’t. We’ve also seen the kind of stuff Mable went threw that summer compared to that most thing post Transcendence are mundane and again I doubt she told them those stories. With that in mind I can’t help think Mable’s already eccentric take on everything would be the most disturbing part.

Henry’s first conversation with the Pine’s parents.

seiya234:

“So-”

Oh god it was Mr. Pines (there was no way Henry could call him Mark, not this early at least), this was Mabel’s father

“-where did you meet our Mabel at?”

Henry looked down at his plate. “Um, at a social gathering-”

“I was doing a keg stand and then I got down and burped the alphabet and then I saw Henry!” Mabel chimed in. 

“Oh. That’s… nice sweetie,” Mrs. Pines replied.

Henry decided now would be a good time to pile more mashed potatoes on his plate.

seiya234:

It started with a bag of potato chips.

Namely, a bag of artisanal potato chips Mom had gotten for
them (for Mabel) (for them) at the farmer’s market that week. They were pickle
flavored, made their entire room reek of dill, and came in a handmade paper
bag. Before the Transcendence (before he had died) (no) Dipper usually let
Mabel have the potato chips in favor of the soft pretzels Mom bought at the
market for him and Dad.

But Mom had forgotten the pretzels (forgotten that he was
still there) (no, just forgot that he could still eat), leaving only the potato
chips.

No one had summoned him all day and he and Mabel had quickly
realized that it was…. best that he not follow her to school. He could have
gone to the Mindscape, could have danced in the dreams of a thousand sleepers,
gone from Pisa to New Delhi to Nome just because-

The chips haunted him. As soon as he realized he couldn’t
have them he wanted them more than anything else on the planet. It was
dumb-part of Dipper knew this-to obsess over freaking potato chips. Perhaps it
was his new nature, his new form of being. To want, to hunger, endlessly.

Also to his now far superior senses, they smelt impossibly
good.

He looked at the clock (you don’t need to).

3:08 (20 seconds, 14 milliseconds, the feel of the earth
slowly turning on its axis, the whirl of a body in motion around the sun-) PM.
Mabel would be home soon and then she could give him some chips and he could
put this whole stupid day behind him.

Keep reading

seiya234:

Mabel sighed.

It wasn’t that Dipper DIDN’T want to go trick or treating with her. 

On the contrary, if anything he was more excited this year than he had been in the past two.

Sure she had to talk him out of potentially turning bowls of “eyeballs” and “brains” into the real things, and they spent forty five minutes arguing if Dipper’s new look could count as his costume or not, but the point was, they were revved up and ready to go for some hot trick or treating action. They had even worked out a deal where Mabel would ‘sacrifice’ her candy to Dipper at the end of the night in exchange for him remaining solid (not that a floating trick or treat bucket wasn’t great but the rest of Piedmont wouldn’t think so). And if there happened to be a leftover bag of candy from a twin who suddenly disappeared, well, obviously Mabel would have to take care of that.

Then the sun rose on Halloween morning and-

Mabel looked up as Dipper plibbed into the room with an audible pop-and she knew he had to be tired, Dipper was still learning how to handle his new existence but he usually only ever made noise when he wanted to.

“That didn’t last long,” Mabel said, as she picked up another sequin to pin onto her mask.

Dipper looked horrible. His eyes were sunken in, and his yellow blood was closer to the surface of his skin than usual making him look sallow all over. His hands had twisted and gnarled, the fingers broken and curled up and around each other, the claws growing into his palms. Occasionally his skin would tear on his arms, his legs, his face and a bright golden eye would open up in a spray of blood, looking around madly before Dipper poked it back down into his body. Worse of all was his stomach, horribly distended like he had eaten three or four bowling balls. Mabel had put her ear to it at lunch and had to jerk away immediately because all she heard was screaming.

The problem wasn’t just that Halloween was turning out to be the one day in the year everyone and their grandmother and their grandmother’s sewing circle decided to try their hand at demon summoning.

No, it was that they kept giving Dipper thin-

No.

No Mabel.

Not things, she reminded herself.

People were sacrificing lives, sacrificing souls. And as miserable as Dipper was Mabel wasn’t stupid. She knew, knew there was a part of him screaming in joy for what he was being gifted.

Dipper looked up at her. "M҉a̧bel,͜ ̷y͏o͢u̧ s̶hǫųl̨d go ̵w҉ith҉o̶ut m͏è,̧" he rasped for the sixteenth time that afternoon. 

(she had been counting, keeping track with a Sharpie on her arm where Dipper couldn’t see)

Mabel shook her head. 

“Nuh-uh Broseidon. Either I go with you or not at all.”

Dipper scowled.

“̶Mab̢èl̵!̛ I̛.҉..̡ oh s͟h͠it̡, h̵ơl-͘"̡

He blipped out again before he could finish his thought, and Mabel continued to work on the mask she would most certainly not be wearing out tonight. 

A knock at the door interrupted her, and a second later Mom’s head popped through the frame.

“Hey honey, if you can’t go out with D… with your bro-… if you can’t go out tonight, do you think you can help Mrs. Pfannstiel out?”

“Mrs. Pfannstiel?” 

“She moved in next door while you… while you both were gone this summer. Her grandchildren are visiting but she doesn’t feel up to taking them out. Would you mind walking them around the neighborhood?”

Mabel hesitated. She shouldn’t abandon Dipper-

“You can bring your own sack too honey.” Mom paused, then chuckled a bit. “You know, your dad brought his own sack when he took you and Dipper out.”

Mabel had forgotten that.

She should wait for her brother. 

She should stay home if he couldn’t go out with her.

She had also spent a solid month planning this harlequin costume. She hadn’t had a ton of candy in forever. 

Dipper said it was fine.

“Okay. I’ll take them out.”

Mom smiled. “Thanks honey.”

(Some years Mabel went by herself. Some years Mabel borrowed someone’s kids. And of course, once she had her own she went with them. But Mabel never missed trick or treating for her entire life.)

Two Front Teef

phenyxsnest:

So I’ve read different origin fics, and I like the ones
where Dipper’s whole transformation isn’t instant. Mostly because
there’s room for me to imagine Mabel making Dipper sing “All I Want For
Christmas Is My Two Front Teeth” on camera and then every year watching
it on Christmas/in the holiday season. It becomes Pines Famliy Tradition
™ and later a subject of confusion for demonologists. (WHY DID ALCOR
THE BLOODY DREAMBENDER SUBMIT TO CHEESY HOLIDAY SONGS???)

Beautiful.

Less beautiful is Mabel keeping all of Dipper’s old teeth in a jar that she decorates.

She puts the triplet’s teeth in there too dipper is… Concerned


“Mabel, thith ith thupid,” Dipper lisped, crossing his arms and
sulking, ears tilted flat and downright pouting. The expression didn’t
sit well on a face with black on gold eyes and pointed ears, even if it
was one that still held traces of baby fat, but Dipper did it anyway.

His teeth had tried to sharpen, but when that hit a snag – broad
molars were not the teeth of a carnivore, and a new tactic had to be
taken, to merge human with demon – they had begun to be replaced,
falling out to be replaced by new, sharper fangs, a childhood nightmare
come to life. His new molars were closer to human teeth than demon
fangs, but they still weren’t human teeth, too sharp to be human but too
broad to be demon. The second set that was also beginning to push its
way through didn’t help matters any, and all the teething rings and
frozen foods Anna Pines was buying in a futile effort to help her son
were only going so far.

To add insult to injury, Dipper’s front two teeth had gone together, leaving him lisping and sulking over the indignity.

A demon should not lisp every time they spoke, unless it was part of their overall persona! It was…it was undignified!

Continue on AO3 // Continue on FF.net

what would be the literary movement that would follow after the transcendence, there was already a Transcendentalism period in the mid 1800s.I am deciding between the apocalyptic or the fantastical period. Either way, I cant help but think that not even Mark and Anna would have ever thought their daughter, a girl whom they remembered made a book of no words not covered in glitter, have her works appear in a college textbook being a leading author of said movement. right next to Poe in the index

Perhaps in the matter of the original transcendentalists, people would go back to nature… but this time they are looking for what was hidden or forgotten for all these years