“Whazzat?” Mabel called back. She was a bit difficult to hear, half-buried in the armchair as she was, but Dipper’s ears picked her up anyway.
“My teeth,” he repeated. He conjured a mirror to hand and stretched his mouth open, poking around with his pinkie claw. “That’s weird. It’s almost like I’m teething again. But I’m like. Twenty two at this point? Oh stars, what if I’m getting a third row of teeth now?”
Mabel blew a raspberry. “Stop being such a worry-demon! You probably just ate something gross and it’s stuck up in there. Like a bone or something. You’re always eating bones now and then they turn out to be poisonous or acidic or whatever and you’re like ‘ahh no my beautiful face’ and it’s really very funny actually -”
Dipper scowled at her. “I don’t do that, I always check- nevermind. You’re right, it’s probably nothing.”
And that’s where they left it for the time being.
---
A week later, Dipper was in Mabel’s body, chasing after a cursed tombstone that had gone missing, when he suddenly froze in his tracks.
“Dip? What’s wrong?” Mabel asked, floating up behind him. “The tombstone is getting away! It just ducked behind those trees!”
“Agh, they just started hurting even more,” Dipper replied. He bent over for a minute, pressing his palms to his face, and sucked in a sharp breath. “My teeth -- they’re really smarting, even though I’m in your body right now. There’s gotta be something up.”
Mabel groaned. “This again? It’s probably not your teeth -- I had a lot of candy last night and sort of didn’t brush my teeth this morning. Or yesterday. Or the three days before that. I should uh. Start doing that again soon.”
Dipper gave her a look. “Tell me again why I keep willingly subjecting myself to your body?”
Dipper swiveled around to follow her finger. The tombstone had just peeked out from behind a nearby tree, and it did a comical little leap into the air when it saw them. Dipper straightened up, rolled up his sleeves, then winced in pain again.
“Bro-bro?” Mabel asked. She floated around in front again and now she had a concerned look on her face. “I know I was heckling you before but if you’re not up to this I can totally go chase it myself…”
“Nah,” Dipper replied. “I can do this. It’s just a bit of pain. I’ve dealt with a lot worse.” He gripped Mabel’s bat, and then took off after the tombstone again.
---
“Okay, okay, okay,” Dipper blurted, speaking in a high falsetto. “I’ve been ignoring the tooth pain for three weeks and I thought it would get better but it has definitely gotten much worse now.”
Mabel and Stan, who were presently hanging from one each of Dipper’s ankles as he flew them out of the dinosaur pit, traded a look.
“You, uh,” Stan asked, “gonna be alright there, kid?”
“I- aaaaaggh no!” Dipper cried. His wings seemed to seize up, and the three of them were momentarily suspended in mid-air. Then the gravity kicked back in and they started to plummet back toward the bottom of the geyser.
“Aaaaaa, Dipper!” Mabel shrieked. She looked over and saw him with his eyes squeezed shut and his hands wrapped around his jaw. “We’re falling!”
“What? Oh, shoot!” He snapped his fingers, and they immediately blipped back into the Mystery Shack, landing safely, if a bit uncomfortably, on the wood floor.
“Why didn’t we just do that in the first place?” Stan grumbled.
Mabel didn’t answer. She approached Dipper, who had curled up into a ball and was now gnawing on a throw pillow. His spit ate away at the rainbow Aoshima that Mabel had cross-stitched onto the front.
“Hey, you really don’t look so good,” she said. “Maybe we should go see a doctor?”
“What’s- ow!- what’s a doctor going to do for me?” Dipper moaned.
Mabel rubbed her chin. “Well, what about a scientist?”
---
“I’m a scientist!” Ford announced five minutes later. He started pulling various scientific implements out of a bag of holding, and it wasn’t long before the sofa was overflowing with gadgets and gizmos that had sparks flying off of them and emitted vaguely threatening auras.
“Grunkle Ford, are you sure you’re qualified to do dental work?” Dipper asked. “On a demon?”
“Nonsense, Dipper!” he replied, throwing a medieval mace over his shoulder. “When there’s no cops around, I’m qualified to do anything!”
“Uh -”
“Now, hold still, and open wide” Ford cut in. He flicked on a tiny flashlight and shone it into the back of Dipper’s mouth. Then he grabbed a pointy metal implement and started tapping it against each of the boy’s teeth in turn. He had to keep grabbing more, as his tools were repeatedly sliced in half by Dipper’s razor sharp teeth, but eventually Ford saw something that made his eyes go wide.
“What’s wrong?” Mabel asked. “Was I right? Is there an acid bone in there?”
“Well, maybe, depending on your definition of a bone. And of acid,” Ford replied. “This is fascinating! It seems like your wisdom teeth are coming in.”
“Wisdom teeth?” Dipper exclaimed, before gagging because he’d accidentally swallowed another of Ford’s tools. “Wait- wait,” he said when he’d finished coughing. “I have wisdom teeth? Really? Like human wisdom teeth?”
“Looks like it,” Ford said. “Although they may not be human. They look about as sharp as your other teeth, from what little I can see right now, and they’re coming in sideways like a human’s might. So that is probably what’s causing your pain.”
“Huh.” Stan took a peek over his brother’s shoulder into the demon’s mouth. “At least it’s probably not something to be worried about, then, right?”
“Wait wait wait,” Dipper babbled, bolting upright. “Does that mean I could go get my wisdom teeth pulled out? Like a very normal and beautiful human rite of passage??”
Ford blinked. “I suppose you could try, but I -”
“Let’s go, Mabel!” Dipper yelped, jumping into the air. He grabbed his sister’s hand, to her confusion, and blipped the two of them away.
“We’re about to get a very frightened phone call from an oral surgeon, aren’t we?” Ford asked.
Stan smirked, and gave him a friendly sock on the shoulder. “Yeah. I answered the last time someone called us in a panic over those kids. You’re up, Sixer.”
(A few days later, Dipper popped into existence and handed Henry some teeth that looked quite a bit scarier than the ones he gave him usually did. When asked what kind of heart-poundingly terrifying creature they came from, Dipper just winked at him and disappeared. He did not, however, disappear quite fast enough that Henry missed the bright yellow blush that had rushed to his girlfriend’s brother’s face.)
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Reality was many different things among many little occurrences and observations.
He felt many of them at so many times over the years that it was uncanny.
Part of the TAUtober prompt: Reality
Part of @transcendence-au
Read on AO3
Reality was never as simple as it seemed and the reality of his situation was that everything had changed on a level far beyond any current comprehension. He was no longer just a boy, and in reality he was no longer human. It showed in the fact that he was tethered to the Mindscape, surrounded by greys and distorted images of the waking world. It showed in the fact that his twin, Mabel, was currently the only one that could see him without additional effort. It was the fact that everyday since that terrible day he was slowly gaining features that a human shouldn't have. Round ears were becoming less and less round and more pointed and sharp little claws were forming no matter how many times he chewed them off, even his own mouth felt weird and that didn't touch upon the whispers he heard in the back of his head.
The reality for him was that he was no longer a human boy but was becoming something so much darker and sinister and he knew it as the sensation rocked the very pit of his being. Mabel had remained painfully optimistic about the whole ordeal, even as everyone stared and whispered behind her back. Their bond was strong, it was helping keep him grounded but there was also a nagging feeling, whispering that he was no longer a twin. How could a non-human beast be a twin to a pure, bright, gleeful human? Perhaps the reality of the situation was that each of them were untwinned, now individual beings with a chosen bond vice the blood one they previously shared. Then again that also felt wrong and he wasn’t so sure how to approach it, making him further question the reality of his situation.
Reality was that he could be pulled out of the cloyster of greys and into drawn circles, surrounded by strangers with intentions that ranged from wholesome to downright sinister. There was always a chance that a summoning could go well, such as with Cassie, the girl who wanted a tutor in exchange for ice cream, or the cultists that continued to offer up blood and flesh despite his near constant protests. Sometimes the summonings were easy, rescue this, help me with this, other times the demands were nigh impossible and even considering it made his blood boil. As always there was a balancing game her played, he couldn’t always play out of his favor but for the ones he liked he usually tried to be more than reasonable and generous, those he didn’t like often were felled and punished with an arc of bright, blue, burning fire or nasty, deadly talons that made rending flesh easy.
Reality was that he wasn’t always alone in these endeavors and occasionally his twin helped, her special bat, Cultbasher as it was aptly named, in hand. Occasionally they merged, though he didn’t like doing this, but using her physical form as a catalyst boosted them and gave them the strength to destroy these foul people. They would go home and rest, good dreams as an additional payment for Mabel who had so willingly helped him.
Reality was further pushed when their parents arrived, frantic and worried as they entered the Shack and wrapped arms around Mabel who glanced back at her twin, worry on her face, knowing that no one could see him at the moment. Mark, their father spoke, tone measured and cautious as he took stock of the situation, there were now two Stans and that hurt his head to think about, and there was only one twin out of the set he was supposed to have yet no one was acting like this was a complete travesty.
Anna was not as accepting and there was a frantic warble to her voice when she spoke, slightly dismissive when Mabel continued to insist that Dipper wasn’t dead and gone, but that he was there with them and that she could prove it. The frantic worry that she held deepened when Mabel broke away from Mark’s grasp and ran into the kitchen, gesturing for the adults to follow her.
Reality hit when Mabel drew the circle quickly, without pause as if she had done this many times, then she used a kitchen knife, quickly glowering at the air near her before she went and pricked her finger and flung the blossoming blood onto the circle and calling forth her Dipping-Dots. Reality deepened when shadows formed and then popped, revealing a young form that looked just like the son until the eyes opened. Anna had shrieked and cried, how could this be her son, the precious, quiet boy that she had dropped off here at the start of summer? Mark on the other hand was stoic, something likely inherited down the Pines family line starting with good ol’ Filbrick. He took this in measure, staring at the son who looked back at him with fear in those odd eyes before quickly disappearing, fading without the weight of a deal to keep him there.
Reality was that their son still existed, he was still technically there, but they had no idea what to do and for the moment they needed to focus on the one tangible twin they still had. So they dragged her home, letting her cry and scream and letting a crack form in the family bond.
Reality was that their love wasn’t enough and it took three years to realize that before they finally gave in and let Mabel and Dipper return to Gravity Falls, which ultimately was the place they needed to be in. They still loved them both deeply, but they were simply not equipped to handle this unlike the Grunkles who were intimately familiar with such odd things.
In the end, reality was that life continued, even when things became rough, but for the demon in the triangle house, he seemed and was rather stagnant. His form was no longer physical but that of deep cosmic energy and so he could change, following the course of his twin. And he did gain power with each deal he made, each foe he managed to defeat, the power of the Beast with One Eye was his now and all he needed to do was learn how to access and control it, which was easier said than done at first.
Life continued and there was a wedding and children and pain but comfort to follow. Land was destroyed, people slaughtered like cattle, blood on his hands and on the walls, but at the end of the day there was always at least someone there for him. At least until there wasn’t.
For Dipper, reality was complicated and sometimes an illusion. It wavered and changed but he knew several things to be true and mostly unchanging. He was a demon, created out of unique and unusual circumstances. He was loved, in so many ways, even when he was alone. He would outlast life upon life and even whole universes. He was special and chosen and rare and he would have experiences that no one else would have. He could lose himself and be brought back with a tug of a simple but beautiful human bond.
Reality was that life was messy and ever changing and occasionally he looked forward to it.
Day 1 of following the TAU prompt list for October.
The prompt was Rituals, and I wanted to see how I could twist it to not be demon-y. So jumping off the idea of a morning ritual cup of coffee here we have mabel juice and knitting. Both of which are surely rituals for Mabel.
Also it felt nice to add a psuedo-still life of mabel juice into the world.
(and yes I’m doing pastels for all of october, because while I’m decent with ink I really need practice with more soft impressionistic mediums)
Done with soft pastels, glue and glitter, on paper made out of elephant poop, because it’s actually really great for pastel works.
Inspired by the TAUtober 2021 prompt for day 2: "Puppeteer".
(AO3 link)
Mabel's body was very similar to Dipper's, before the Transcendence.
Too similar, in fact. There was a strange feeling that hit him every time it happened. A fire burned within him, ever since Bill Cipher sparked it with his dying touch. It was fire, and yet his sister offered herself freely to it, reaching her hand in and letting him pull back.
It was natural in an unnatural way, the way he effortlessly slipped into the gap she left, spreading his thought through her nerves, caressing the sinews of her skin. He flicked a finger, as easy as pulling the string on a marionette's cross, and her body acted in turn. Another string made her head turn, so he could see Mabel's ghostly form giving him a goofy look from the Mindscape. One of the strings jerked of its own accord, and he realised he wasn't breathing. That gave him the opportunity to open her lungs and suck in that delicious, delicious air.
Dipper didn't have a body of his own anymore -- hadn't for a long time. Now he lived in the realm of thought, and his only tether to the real world was Mabel. Mabel, who supported him from the very beginning. Mabel, who trusted him when his own parents didn't. Mabel, who even let him use her body as if it was his own. This was just one of the many ways his life had changed, how even the most fundamental things like having a body were now alien.
And yet, everything about her felt familiar. They had the same face. They had the same build, the same skin, the same hair. When he passed by a pool of water and looked in, he didn't see Mabel possessed by a demon. He only saw himself.
Sometimes he was Alcor, the distant and powerful demon, puppetting this mortal in fulfilment of the basest instincts that ran through his species. He could revel in the ability to touch and move and be real, to have an impact on the world, to carry out his deeds.
And sometimes he was Dipper Pines, once again trapped inside a girl's body, and that was when things became too real.
It was times like that when he did not feel like a puppeteer, reaching into reality from above. It was times like that when he felt suffocated by her skin. He'd try to alleviate it by putting on his old vest and t-shirt, and by tucking his long hair into his pine tree hat. But in a way that only made things worse, because it put him right back to when he used to do that in his own flesh.
Before he transitioned.
Before the Transcendence.
As he went to work on whatever cult needed bashing or whatever mystery needed solving, that feeling remained a palpable presence on his mind. And later on, when he stood in the shower, cleaning off the blood and letting the bruises heal so that Mabel didn't have to deal with them, Dipper could not help but notice the ways in which her body was not the same as his.
It was a reminder of what he'd been heading toward, back when his body was on the cusp of entering the wrong puberty. Back when everyone else thought he was girl just because of the way he was born. And though he still enjoyed the feeling of walking around in a suit made of matter, it made him feel grateful that he was only puppetting the body; that at the end of the day, he could slip back out of that suit and into a more comfortable form.
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everyone always talks about the cults and the summonings and the deals but nobody talks about the poor newbie cultists who get voluntold to spend hours painstakingly setting up the summoning circles in order to have that big dramatic summoning showdown later
what better way to get into the mood for the prompt 'insomnia" than to stay up til 4am to finish and post the drawing?
anyway here's a scene from Reincarnation Blues by MaryPSue, specifically from the oneshot "What Friends Are For", because why wouldn't i take this prompt at midnight and start drawing two characters i've never drawn before in my life?
