If you mean that the triplets have souls that were around before they were born and will be around after they die, then yes, technically, though they wouldn’t so much ‘belong’ to another family as have had another family, maybe many other families, in lifetimes past. This doesn’t mean they don’t ‘belong’ to the Pines family, though! For most people, reincarnation is a fresh start. (Mabel is a special case.)
It was a good thing he was a being of pure
energy with no weaknesses (mostly. Ish. It was complicated) otherwise Dipper
was sure he’d be dead by now.
As it was he had no idea how Mabel and Henry and
Stan were managing it.
The triplets had been home from the hospital for a
week, and Dipper had never seen bags under his sister’s eyes until now.
It didn’t help that the babies loved to sleep…on
completely wildly different schedules. There was only an hour or two a day it
seemed where all three of them were asleep together. The rest of the time just
as one went down the other two would wake up.
Mabel hadn’t changed her clothes in three days.
Henry fell asleep standing up this morning. Stan had been uncharacteristically
quiet, all the energy he usually put towards snarking and being a grump
dedicated to staying awake and alert.
It was a good thing that Dipper could hold them
and touch the babies like he was able to do for Mabel otherwise they would have
been fucked.
Currently he was in the nursery trying to rock
Hank to sleep. They had put the kids up in Mabel and Dipper’s old room, in the
attic. It felt right, to have them in the bedroom that so many of their
adventures and hopes and dreams had started in.
It was also up a flight of stairs and on the
complete opposite side of the house from Mabel and Henry’s bedroom, so it was
not perhaps the most well thought out idea.
The door clicked open and Dipper looked up. Mabel
stepped in, her daughters in hand, both awake and howling like deranged
banshees. She sat all three of them down in the rocker that was sitting next to
Dipper’s chair, and pushed the chair into motion.
The twins rocked the triplets for a minute,
the only sounds coming from the infants in their arms as cries turned to
snuffles turned slowly, one by one, into sleep. Mabel placed Acacia and Willow
in the crib, and Dipper followed behind with Hank. He made sure all three of
them were positioned okay within the crib, and smiled as Hank and Acacia rolled
to squish up next to Willow.
Then he phased downstairs, to the kitchen,
where Mabel was making herself a jumbo cup of coffee.
“Make me one too please?” Dipper asked. He
didn’t need it per se, but would make
Mabel feel better, to see that he was suffering in the trenches just like she
was.
She smiled at him, silently letting him know
that she both saw through that but appreciated the effort, and pulled down
another mug. When the pot was done, they both took their cups (Mabel having ‘sacrificed’
the coffee to Dipper for 25 minutes of corporeality) outside and sat on the
porch swing that had recently been put up.
Dipper pushed them off and they started to
swing. Soon one of the babies would inevitably wake up and they would have to
take care of them but for now it was just the two of them, and the sun rising
on the horizon.
The world stretched out in front of them,
quiet and peaceful, a calm before the storm.
“We need to tell them everything,” Mabel
said suddenly, out of nowhere. “About you, about us, about Grunkle Stan, about…about
Grandpa Stanley.”
Unthinking, Dipper’s hand reached for her
free one, and took it up into his palm.
“We will always be honest with them,” Dipper
agreed.
“We will never lie to them,” Mabel
continued.
Dipper looked out over the front yard. “Their
trust in each other will never falter,” he said, an old pain going through him.
Mabel gave him a sad smile and countered
with, “They will know they can always trust us. Always.”
“Nothing will ever hurt the-“
Mabel squeezed his hand. “Dipper, we….we can’t
promise that. No matter how much we want to.”
Dipper almost objected, but he knew, deep
down, that his twin was right.
“Well,” he said instead. “I will do
anything, anything to protect them.”
Mabel leaned into his shoulder, and Dipper
felt a hot tear drip onto his shoulder.
They drank their coffee.
They watched Gompers get into a head butting
contest with the totem pole.
And inevitably, Acacia woke up wailing,
bringing both of her siblings back into consciousness with her and breaking the
spell on the yard.
As Mabel got up with a grimace, Dipper
thought of a portal and of siblings separated.
It wasn’t often that Dipper got a quiet moment with his
sister, and he knew as soon as the kids were born those moments would become
even rarer so he took the opportunity whenever he could.
Like now, for example. Mabel was knitting onesies for the
triplets, green and purple and covered in inexplicable deely boppers. Dipper
himself was content to drape his legs over her lap and lay across the couch in
a pleasant doze.
Well, Mabel probably thought he was dozing, but really he
was listening to the babies.
He had his eyes closed, the better to get on their
wavelength, and just….listen.
Listen in awe of the new lives forming within his sister.
Feel three heartbeats, and above them all, comforting and
steady, Mabel’s heartbeat.
They dreamt in colors and waves, and the world around them
was dark and warm and safe and love.
They could feel him, and occasionally one of his niblings
would drift over in his direction, or as best as they could in Mabel’s
increasingly crowded womb.
It amazed him that they could sense him, just how they
sensed Mabel when she patted her stomach or talked to them or ate seven
hamburgers in one go.
His nephew began to fall asleep and-
“Oh my god Dipper!”
Dipper came to with a start.
“Are you listening to the kids again you big softie?”
“N-nooooo,” said Dipper.
(For a demon, Mabel thought, he was a terrible liar.)
“Really? Your cutie mark is showing?”
“My what?”
Mabel waved at her forehead. “Your birthmark….but now that
it glows I think it should really be called a cutie mark.”
“MABEL IT’S NOT A CUTIE MARK!”
She just smiled and made a shooshing motion at his face.
“Well, I think it’s
really cute!”
Dipper face palmed.
Suddenly he was rethinking this whole ‘spending time with
his sister’ thing.
EDIT: I AM SORRY I HAVE NOT WORKED ON THIS. I AM SORRY I HAVE NOT FINISHED THIS IN TIME. I KNOW I SAID THAT I WOULD GET THIS DONE BEFORE THE WEEKEND AND I DID NOT. SO, IN EXCHANGE FOR MY FUCKUP, HAVE A FEW PICTURES OF ME DURING THIS LAST WEEK FOREVER:
For the holidays I asked for prompts. Not only did y’all deliver, but y’all gave me the best ones ever. So I decided, instead of a whole bunch of stories for each individual prompt, I would make one big story out of all your prompts. Here you go. Sorry for the delay…hope you enjoy it.
Generally, we don’t see there being pets at the Shack when the kids are there because three kids and a demon uncle are enough chaos as it is! Not to mention that when one is in the mood for cuddling or petting someone sweet and fluffy, there are Uncle Dipper’s demon sheep (or Uncle Dipper on dipnip wheeee!)
A relationship that is already strained at times in the regular AU becomes…somewhat worse in Friends With Tax Benefits.
Especially since Mark and Anna are not stupid and can recognize who this “Tyrone Cypress” is from a mile off. Not to mention Henry can’t exactly hide the fact that he got legally married to someone.
Things come to a head about three months after Dipper and Henry get married, when the kids are about one, and Mark and Anna pay a surprise visit, ostensibly to see the triplets.
Dinner is already awkward enough but then the accusations come. That Henry is spitting on the memory of his wife, of their daughter. That Dipper shouldn’t be within five hundred miles of infants.
That Dipper wanted Henry this whole time, and didn’t have a problem taking ‘care’ of Mabel to get who he wanted and-
This may or may not be when Henry stands up and breaks Mark’s nose.
Mark and Anna eventually try to gain custody of the kids, but luckily fail as the children are obviously well cared for and loved, not to mention they can’t really a good reason as to why Tyrone shouldn’t be trusted. For some reason, they cant exactly whip out “Tyrone is our long thought dead son who’s now a demon.”
Needless to say, after those two incidents, Henry and Dipper break off all contact with Mark and Anna.
Dipper and Stan are devastated. Dipper because they were still his parents, he still loves them, but what they accused him of doing to Mabel, to Mabel…well. He can’t forgive them, even though part of him can’t help but want to. As for Stan, Mark is one of his last links to his brother, and to see him acting so callously leaves him heartbroken. Though this being Stan, he wouldn’t quite put it in those terms.
Mark and Anna may be plagued with dreams for the rest of their lives of what could have been, what they could have had with their grandchildren, but do not.
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