Love the idea of him having an experimental phase where he tried out morphs like nobody’s business.
Dipper
examined himself in the bathroom mirror. It was still a disconcerting
experience, to look in the mirror and see gold on black eyes looking
back at him instead of the brown eyes he still half expected.He
just hadn’t gotten used to the change in his appearance, even after
four years like this. It felt wrong to try and change it to the way he
used to look, uncomfortable in his own skin, but it still caught him off
guard when he caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror.Opening his mouth, Dipper pulled at the corners of his lips, taking a closer look at the fangs that had replaced his teeth.
Sitting
back in midair, he looked over the rest of his appearance with a
critical frown. The summonses had been coming more and more often as the
years passed, (and he was deliberately not going to think about a few
of them, especially that terrible one, where he was bound for nearly
three full days…) and he doubted the way he looked now was going to
cut it much longer.He’d
just recently changed his outfit permanently – he’d wanted to cling to
the shorts and t-shirt he’d worn for so much of his human life for as
long as possible, but the suit was so much more comfortable now, seemed
to fit him in ways the shorts no longer did. That…that had scared him,
but after he took some tips from Grunkle Stan, well, he was starting to
like it. It looked…professional. Dapper.Giving
himself another once-over in the mirror, Dipper gave a little spin.
With a thought he changed the cufflinks and gold triangles that held the
chain that decorated his tailcoat into stars and smiled. Much better.
That had been bothering him.Still…he
leaned on the counter, unsatisfied. He didn’t really look at that
demonic, ears and eyes, fangs and claws notwithstanding.Okay, the wings helped, but they were in such an odd position…
Maybe…well,
he could shapeshift now. Maybe he could try a few things? See if he
couldn’t be…well, a teenage boy was only scary to a select few, right?
But what if…
Tag: stan
Acceptable Risks
Know how sometimes, when you’re under stress, you call someone you look up to or care about ‘mom’ or ‘dad’? Yeah…
Stan needs to take better care of himself.
Inspired by this prompt.
I’ve been working on this one off and on for awhile now, and, well…yeah I’m calling it done.
Ever since the kids, now teenagers, had moved in with him, Stan had been trying to pull back on the dangerous crap. A little, at least. The kids needed him right now, so he didn’t have time or room to be risky.
He’d been being risky ever since the Transcendence. Trying to drown out the memory of Mabel’s screams, Dipper’s mangled hat lying in a puddle of blood, those first few days…
Well, now Ford was off traveling the world, and Stan had been doing stupidly risky things again despite being the town’s hero in his own name. But that had to stop, and fast, now that the twins were here. He couldn’t…ironically enough, he couldn’t risk being risky anymore.
Not when both twins were both still so fragile. Not physically, at least, physically they were doing…well, he couldn’t say great, not with Dipper’s…condition, but he supposed they could be called physically fit. Emotionally, though…they’d never admit to being fragile, but Stan understood their position right now a bit too well for his own comfort. The reasons might be different, and they might still have had contact and know that they were loved, loved so much that their parents were willing to let them go, but, well…
But, risky or not, this trip would set them up for the next few months at the least, until he could figure out some new way to make a living for them now that folks weren’t coming by to see his homemade mysteries, what with the real things being everywhere and part of the everyday.
Well, he knew more about the supernatural than just about anyone, save his great-niece and nephew, thanks to his brainiac of a brother’s journals and thirty years of living in Gravity Falls, but he didn’t have the clout and reputation to back it up yet.
It was happening, but too slow to make a steady living. As to his brother…well, he had no clue where Poindexter was right now. He’d run off soon after the whole Transcendence happened, just stopping in now and then to drop off old journals or samples, lock himself in the basement for a week, and disappear again.
…at least Ford was talking to them again. Awful as everything was, actually forcing him and Ford to talk was one of the few decent things to come out of the whole mess. Didn’t make up for any of the things that happened that day, but Stan had learned to appreciate the little things a long time ago. They’d had a good couple years on that boat before Stan needed to return to Gravity Falls permanently. And Ford’d left some kind of mirror-portal thing that they could use to talk to him, and, well…they were talking more often then the twins’ parents were talking to the kids.
Willow loved her Mommy and Daddy. Willow loved Grunkle Stan
and Uncle Dipper. Willow loved the Shack and the Library and Miss Mack the
Lunch Lady and cartoons and the color smorqwakle. Willow loved lots of things.
And Willow loved her parents and uncles very very much so.But she loved her brother and sister more.
It was mean, the reason why, and she knew better, she was
seven for Pete’s sake, she wasn’t dumb. Obviously you shouldn’t love one person
more than another. That wasn’t fair. And Willow was pretty sure that even if it
was true it should probably be the adults she loved most first, then her
triplets, and maybe Gompers in third.But Acacia and Hank had never given her the Look.
She wasn’t stupid. She and Hank were in TAG after all.
(Or as Acacia called it, “your dumb special nerd
class.” But Willow could see in her colors that she wasn’t trying to be
mean. She was glad not to have to do extra work and be away from her friends.)Willow knew adults lied to kids all the time. She knew that
there were adults out there that could hurt her (many had already tried.) She
knew that there were adults that didn’t act like adults should.Willow knew not everyone saw the colors she did. She knew
things that she knew she wasn’t supposed to know. And she knew by their colors
and the Look that her parents and uncles knew it too.(Her fire, on the other hand, didn’t seem to worry them
anywhere near as much, which was just weird.)Grunkle Stan gave her the Look when the colors flared up in
public and she pointed them out to him. His colors said he was worried he
wouldn’t understand enough to help her. His colors were sad because she
reminded him of someone, someone like her. He gave her the Look and she wanted
to scream because she didn’t need him to understand, she just wanted him to hug
her and just… Be there. Be her weird smelly old Grunkle. That’s all she
really wanted and needed from him.Mommy gave her the Look when she ran to Mommy crying because
she had just seen a Bad Man at the grocery store and no one else could see that
he was Bad but here and looking at him made her feel dirty inside. Mommy gave
the best hugs because she was warm and squishy and half the time her sweaters
were scratch and sniff so she smelt good too. Willow didn’t mind the hugs; that’s
what she needed and wanted. She minded how Mommy looked at her like she was a baby. She knew that wasn’t what Mom
meant by the look and she knew she wasn’t being fair. But that’s what Mommy’s
Looks made her feel like; like she was small and dumb and couldn’t do anything,
just like when she had to sit out at recess because her asthma. Willow just
wanted Mommy to make things better, at least for a little bit, not take what
made her her away.Uncle Dipper gave her the Look when she mentioned the flash
of color she saw on the mailman despite wearing her bubble. Or when she opened
her mouth and a voice that wasn’t hers came out. What made her so mad when Uncle Dipper gave her the Look was
that it was so confusing. He was the one that was teaching her about the colors
and her fire and what it meant when she woke up knowing Grunkle Stan shouldn’t
get in the car that morning. Uncle Dipper came in her dreams and took her
places in the Mindscape no other humans went to! They were going over a weird
spellbook he had gotten his last summon! He was teaching her everything she
knew so why did he get so… so… what was the word Mommy had used? Canstiparted.
Yeah, that sounded right. Why did Uncle Dipper Look at her all Canstiparted?
She couldn’t tell if she was doing something wrong but that couldn’t be it and
she was so confused sometimes she just wanted to kick a hole in the wall and
cry. She couldn’t even cheat and look at his colors. Uncle Dipper had told her
it would hurt her brain to look at his colors, but personally Willow thought he
was being a big dumb poop butt who didn’t want her to see what he actually
thought of her.She could put up with all that though. She could come up
with reasons behind the Looks, even if, as with Uncle Dipper, it came down to
being a Big Stupid Poop Butt Face. Their Looks hurt but she understood, or she
tried her best to understand even when she didn’t want to be nice and just
wanted to be upset.But nothing hurt her like when Daddy gave her the Look.
Just yesterday she had asked why Grunkle Stan always came
out of the basement a little sad, and she saw Daddy’s colors go down from
bright happy yellows to deep, terrible pinks. He Looked at her and around him
the pinks were so intense she could feel it like a fuzziness on her teeth.
Daddy was pink on Father’s Day sometimes. He was pink like that when they had
been in Bend with Uncle Dipper, and a man from one of the churches had pointed
at her and yelled mean things at her. (She wasn’t sure why Uncle Dipper had
called him a witchsniffer after he was done scaring him. Being a witch would
have been really cool, but she only Saw things.) Some days she saw he was a
little pink so she went over to cuddle him, but that just made him Look at her,
sigh, and get even more pink. Willow
didn’t get it. There was something there he hadn’t told the three of them, she
could see the bare edges of it in his pinks. But what was it? Why wouldn’t he
tell them?Was it something wrong with them?
Or was it something wrong with her?
Hank and Acacia never Looked at her. They never worried
about what she Saw or Said. They never bugged her about it. If they gave her
hugs, they were just hugs because they were worried about her and they loved
her; there was nothing extra in them. Her Sight wasn’t scary or freaky to them.
It was just another way to get some ice cream out of Stan or to get Jerry
McAllen in trouble for peeking under the stalls in the bathroom or figure out
if Daddy had made dessert that night. They didn’t expect anything of her. She
was just their sister who Saw a few extra things. That was it.With her brother and sister, she was free.
And that was why, and she didn’t care, Willow really really really didn’t care about how bad it made
her.That was why she loved them the best.
(Golden) Blood is Thicker
Dipper, is your blood actually gold, or gold-colored? Further, has Grunkle Stan tried to collect and sell your blood?
It’s just gold-colored. But thanks for asking, because now Grunkle Stan has been following me around for two hours and giving me contemplative looks. I’m out of here as soon as he grabs something sharp.
(Not that he’d really…. wait, would he?)
http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/119590146740/dipper-is-your-blood-actually-gold-or
Dipper stared silently, almost absently, at the cut in his arm, which was steadily leaking blood. It was starting to heal, but it was still bleeding sluggishly.
The problem wasn’t the cut. The cut was nothing, a consequence of a miscalculation in fighting off a cultist with a silver knife that tried to get at Mabel. If it hadn’t been a silver, enchanted knife, then he would have healed already.
Mabel was fine, though, and that was what important.
The problem was his blood. It still threw him, a full seven years after the Transcendence, to see gold pouring from his skin instead of crimson red. It was a stark reminder that there was nothing human left about him.
“Kid, you bleed all over that floor and you’re the one gonna be cleaning it up,” Grunkle Stan grunted as he stumped into the living room, pulling off his suit jacket. “Blood don’t come easy outta carpet ya know.”
Investigating the Falls
Paranormal Investigator James Gallucio, PhD, had come to
Gravity Falls to investigate the history of ‘a little town just west of
weird’.He’s not quite sure what he expected.
Based on this prompt: http://transcendence-au.tumblr.com/post/116972507433/imagine-some-kind-of-paranormal-investigator
James Gallucio, PhD, had been researching the supernatural for years. It wasn’t the easiest career path, especially before the Transcendence hit and anyone who studied the paranormal was considered odd, at best.
Tall and lanky and clumsy, with thick glasses, James had always been on the receiving end of taunting and the stereotype of ‘nerd’, and his hobbies didn’t help matters any.
But James was stubborn, and determined to find out the truth. They could laugh at him all they liked, but he knew of at least one man in his field who’d gotten a government grant to study the paranormal, and he was determined to keep working despite his detractors. Who knew, maybe it would happen for him.
Then the Transcendence happened. All over the world, in the blink of an eye, the paranormal was out in plain sight, unable to hide, and demanding their basic human rights, and people like James were suddenly needed.
But even though he was suddenly respected, needed, and looked to, at least somewhat, James just wasn’t satisfied. Half of the excitement of his job had been in the danger, in people’s disbelieving reactions, in the chase after something no one else understood.
There were dozens, if not hundreds, of people studying the paranormal now. James needed a challenge, something new.
Of course, there were dozens of new species to study now, and many of them incredibly dangerous.
So when the offer came, James jumped on it. So now, in the fourteen years since the Transcendence, James had done a documentary on as many as he could find the least verifiable information on.
Now James was looking for something new to document, something dangerous, something little was known about, something that would really get his name out there.
Then, he had a flash of inspiration.
Headcanon that in TAU, Ford is the one to suggest that they call the library the “Stanley Pines Memorial Library of the Supernatural”, for overly dramatic sentimental reasons (it’s in memory of a young life cut short long before his time! In memory of the thirty years lost while Stan was working on the portal! It’s memorialising a truly great figure in history, a real hero! It’s – Stan kinda tunes him out when he starts getting into the symbolism of the whole affair) and Stan agrees because he thinks it’d be hilarious (and that’s not a tear you’re seeing in his eye there, Mabel, it’s – uh – cataracts).
Several hundred years down the line, however, the birth and death records of both the elder set of Pines twins, combined with the nameswap (which is never fully sorted out in any official documentation that historians might be able to get their hands on centuries later) and the name of the library, all lead scholars of pre-Transcendence history to conclude that Stanley Pines was the one who wrote the “journals” referenced in eyewitness accounts of the actual Transcendence itself, and that his brother Stanford had valiantly given up his promising studies in the fields of astrophysics and folklore to move to Oregon and memorialise his brother’s mystery-hunting legacy (from the early years of his life, which are still shrouded with controversy and secrecy; there are rumours that he turned to crime to finance his expeditions after being turned away by the prestigious West Coast Tech, though none have ever been fully substantiated).
Somewhere, Dipper is sure, his Grunkle’s soul is laughing.
Brother
In Your Game For Two 5/5
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
…
The bunker was somehow both less and more scary the second time around.
Mabel was very glad she’d worn her lightbulb sweater as she crept between the fallen metal shelves of canned food and toilet paper, tumbled around by the explosion like someone had gone bowling in a library. The little circle of light her sweater cast wasn’t very big or bright, just a yellow circle in the heavy, whispering dark, but it was warm and cheerful and she only tripped over one or two fallen shelves on her way across the room.
The shrinking room made up of weird moving blocks looked worse than the storage room – one entire wall was shifted onto a diagonal, and the blocks no longer fit neatly together, all twisted onto their edges. A sad, weak beam of sunlight filtered down through the dirt from a hole in the ceiling, a bunch of the blocks dangling by fragile-looking wires. They sparked and zapped as Mabel tiptoed through the room, red lights flickering from some of the blocks and the whole room shaking as the broken mechanism tried to close in on her, but all that happened was some dirt fell in her hair.
Pseudomnesia 2/8
In which the search for answers continues, several rooms are wrecked, an initiation is performed, a deal is made, and Mabel’s next summer crush arrives. Elsewhere, elsewhen, Dipper comes down with a cold and gets a terribly catchy song stuck in his head.
Part 2 of the trainwreck.
Family Portrait
Once again, shout out to tonithelibrarian for editing! 🙂
Dipper was floating over the Library, most decidedly not watching and waiting for Henry’s truck to come down the lane of course not he wasn’t that overprotective.
Finally, the truck came trundling out from between the trees, pulling to a stop outside the Library and letting out four of his favorite people in the world.
The younger two triplets darted into the house, laughing, while the oldest trailed behind her father, kicking at the dirt morosely.
So, being the good uncle he was, Dipper flipped over and drifted down to see what was wrong.
“Hey there sweetie, what’s got you so down?” he asked, dropping to hover upside down in front of his niece.
The side of Acacia’s mouth quirked up, but she remained stubbornly angry. She stormed up the stairs at the back of the Library to flop down huffily into the old couch that still sat there, huffing and crossing her arms, letting her backpack thud onto the porch.
Even the thud sounded indignant.
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