#oh i need to draw so many things about the new teapot update

[feferipeixes]

Mother Knows Best (1/5)

Answering an oddly familiar summons, Alcor finds himself face-to-face with none other than his own mother. Sure, she died years ago and reincarnated as someone completely different, but it's a little hard for Alcor to see past who she once was. As time goes on, however, he starts to wonder if maybe she really has changed -- and maybe, just maybe, if things could be better between them this time.

Here’s my entry for the 5th annual @transcendence-au ficathon! Based on the prompt “Dipper and his mother have a talk” from the awesome @toothpastecanyon! As you can see, I took it in a bit of a different direction :)

(See the most updated version on AO3!)

===

Chapter 1: Summoned

It was a clean summoning, one of the smoothest he'd felt in a while. No incorrect symbols on the circle. Plain candles, flames lapping at the wick, fresh from the box. Flawless Latin that sang across the Mindscape to bring him forth, instead of the grating mispronunciations he'd gotten more and more accustomed to as the years passed and there was almost no one left who even knew that Latin was a language.

Why then, Alcor wondered, did this summoning feel so off? Why was there a bitter edge to the call that triggered his fight or flight response in a way that a sad group of cultists hadn't managed to do in decades? And why did it feel so familiar?

The structure of a room pulled itself together around him, and with a pop he was there. By the blue light of the candles, he noticed that the room he’d been summoned to was actually quite small -- most likely a bedroom, given the bed tucked in the corner. He couldn’t help but notice the walls coated in boy band posters -- his mind jumped right to Mabel, filling his brain with a fuzzy sadness that wasn’t appropriate for a summoning.

That sadness evaporated pretty quickly when he saw the pro-nat hate speech on the posters hidden beneath them. He had a few guesses as to how this was going to go. Might as well get on with it.

"W̞̦̙̬̪̻̳H͖̦̲̟̻̖O̯͡ ̨̻̻̫̜͔̗͇D̛͔̣A̹͚͢R̞E͇̻͎̰S ̭͇͚͔T̹̣͔̦͎̝O̧ ̛̥̦̥̼̗S̢̳U͇M̦̘̺̰̲M̻̥̳̫̝̟O̩̗̥̦N͞ ͉͖̪̰͚̖A̙̣̠̫̬̗̰L̸̲C̭̠̖̣͚O͕͇͇͍̲͍R͖͕̞̲̣ ̷͔̙T̠̘͢H͔̼͉E̠̩͇̖͔̕ ̴D͉͙R҉̳͓̯̼̺E̢̘̬̱̠A͓̰̗͇̪͚M̜͎̟͇͍̱̺B̟̦̱̪̕E̲̘̯̙̜͘N̵͈̜̝D͏͈͓E̝͇̺̹R̛̝̱̳̭?͖̖͔̩̙͉̟" he roared.

The only person in the room was a young woman -- couldn't have been more than 25 -- who practically jumped out of her skin at the sound of his voice. She had mousy brown hair (she’d considered dyeing it many, many times, but always chickened out in the stylist’s chair) and stunning green eyes (contacts -- her eyes were really brown but she figured if her eyesight was poor enough that she needed contacts she might as well be adventurous), was dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans (all of her nice clothes were in the wash), and had a tilted cross on a necklace tucked underneath her shirt.

"It's, uh," she stammered, "my name is Arielle, and…"

"That's your first mistake, kid," Alcor cut in. "Never tell a demon your real name. Not that it matters too much to me since I already know it, but if you get any other lesser demon in here? Forget about it, they'd love to use that against you."

Arielle's aura flickered anxiously, and she drew her arms close to her chest. "Y-yeah? Why's that?"

Alcor flipped over so he was lying on his back in midair, his head upside down from her perspective. "True names are powerful. If you know someone’s true name, you have access to who they really are. It’s the best way to control someone without literally owning their soul.”

“Owning… their soul?”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re kidding me. You don’t know what a soul is?”

She frowned. “I know what a soul is. But I didn’t think you could control someone with their soul.”

“Oh, you totally can! Well, you can’t. I can, ‘cause I’m a demon and all. It’s kind of our specialty.” He uncrossed his arms and let them dangle beneath him. “But enough about that. Why don’t you tell me what someone like you is doing summoning a demon? Last I heard, the New Canaan Methodist Church wasn’t too fond of my folk.”

She practically seized up in shock. “What?”

He rolled over onto his front, leaning on some invisible plane with his elbows, and let a wide grin spread across his face. “I just couldn’t help but notice what a nice necklace you’re wearing. The NCMC and I aren’t the closest of friends, you know. I’ve got some hilarious stories I could tell you -- wow, where to begin…”

“Hang on, what?” she cut in, and then slapped her hands to her mouth, apparently in shock at the fact that she’d just spoken back to a demon.

Alcor flipped over into a seated position. “No storytime?”

“No, I just…” She reached under her top and pulled out the necklace. “Did you look through my shirt? That’s very rude.”

Alcor spluttered and turned pink. “What? No! I mean I guess I technically did, but not like that! I just wanted to see what was on your necklace.” He cowed under the furious glare she was giving him. “Hey, I’m asking the questions here! Regardless of where the necklace was, you’re still a New Canaanite!”

She deflated a little, but the irritated look didn’t leave her face. “I’m… I’m not, okay? Not anymore.”

He cocked his head curiously, the pink tinge slowly dissipating from his cheeks. “Anymore?”

She sighed, and looked away. “This is all my parents’ stuff, okay? It’s not my fault they’re Canaanites! They tried to make me go along with their hateful garbage, but I didn’t really believe, so I left. They didn’t like that, and they forced me to keep wearing the necklace ‘as protection’. They literally glued the clasp together -- I can’t take it off. So I hide it under my clothes. Happy?”

Alcor frowned. She… was lying to him.

At least about the parents thing -- he could sense her parents in the next room, could practically smell the unconditional love radiating off of them, nauseatingly sweet to his delicate nose. He had a hard time believing that the kind of people who smelled like that would glue an extremist group’s iconography to their child.

But… maybe they weren’t her real parents. If she left the NCMC, she might’ve been forced to leave the community too. It sort of held up as a story. And besides, he didn’t want to ditch this summoning just yet. He needed to know why he was sure he’d met her before.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” he said finally. “What do you want?”

She looked surprised for a moment, and then nodded. “I want you to go to the local chapter of the New Canaan Methodist Church. In the back room, where they keep the picket signs, there’s a warded chest. The chapter leader stole something important from me. I want you to get it back.”

He narrowed his eyes, and peered through space. As he did so, his wings went translucent, and an image of the room in question appeared over them. Alcor saw the chest -- it was surrounded by binding circles and wards, but nothing that he wouldn’t be able to handle. With effort, he peeked into the chest -- why did it have so many wards around it? -- and did a double take when he saw what was inside.

“Really? You summoned a demon to fetch a stuffed animal for you?”

She scowled. “It’s important to me and I want it back! I’ve got payment. You can have my memories of first grade. You like memories, right?”

Alcor scratched his chin. He did like memories, and the ones he could see dancing in her skull seemed particularly juicy. Besides, the stuffed animal thing reminded him of Mabel again. But this couldn’t be her. He’d know, wouldn’t he?

“Alright.” He reached toward her, blue flame dancing on his hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Her eyes lit up in a brilliant display of hope and gratitude. “Thank you so much,” she said. Her aura changed -- greed pulsating through it so vibrantly that it felt like she was screaming into his eyeballs -- and she smiled. “Finally, I’ll get her away from that monster.”

Alcor’s face twitched. Her voice called out to him through the recesses of his mind.

Thank the stars I’ve got you away from that monster!

He jerked his hand back before she could grab it. "No," he breathed. "That's how I know you. That's who you are. You almost tricked me. How dare you."

Her smile faltered, and she took a step back. "Uh, what?"

He clenched his fists, and black void rippled across his body. "How Ḑ̛̜͇̱̟͈̺̩̭̪̳̖̦̹̹̣̩̉ͣ́̂̌͋̉͗͒ͯͪ̓̒̎͜͞Ạ̸̟̹̼̫̭̫̙͔͖̙̝̲̳̺̭̺̃̑̆ͣͪ͆͑͋͑͒ͪͫͭ͗͒͝R̐̈́̂͞͡҉̦̭̖̬̮̜̞E̡ͯ̊ͦ͆̀̐͆ͤ͊̽ͯ̅̄̐͗̊͌̽̇͜͠҉͉̯̯͈͈͓̮̥̫̠͉̞̣̼͔ you!" he screeched, sending a shockwave through the air that knocked knocked items off their shelves and whipped her hair up into a tangled mess. "I wasn't good enough for you before, and now you want my help?"

She gibbered under the gaze of the incensed demon. "What? This is the first time I've summoned you!"

"Oh sure, just pretend like you don't even know me anymore! Hah, not like it's the first time you've ever done that!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I swear!"

He waved his hand dismissively. "Can it -- I've had enough. The deal's off, Mom!"

With that, he vanished, leaving behind a very confused summoner. He tessered to the Mystery Shack, to Mabel and Henry’s old room, and stood there fuming for a minute. Then, he pulled his arm back, balled his hand into a fist, and punched the wall so hard that a big chunk of it flew out into the woods.

His breaths gradually slowed, becoming longer and deeper, the better to draw unnecessary air into his fake lungs, because he enjoyed the taste of it -- enjoyed the game -- because it helped ground him and distract him from the fact that he was capable of punching through a wall at a moment’s notice. That -- he began to realize, as his thoughts slowed down too -- may not have been the best idea. At least no one had seen him lose his temper like that.

“Um.”

Alcor turned around so quickly that he may have skipped over the “turning” part entirely. Willow was standing in the hall, just outside the door to the room, holding a teapot in one hand and her inhaler in the other.

“Everything okay, Uncle Dipper?” she asked, sounding more concerned than nervous. She did not step into the room.

Alcor looked down. “Everything’s fine, now.” He grimaced. “But I’d love a cup of tea, if you’re offering.”

She shrugged. “Well, I guess I’m offering now.” Alcor started to move forward, and she wagged a finger at him. “If, that is, you fix the wall you just destroyed.”

He smiled weakly, and let his hand ignite into flame. “That’s the best offer I’ve heard all day. Deal.”

Willow shook his hand, and walked off toward the kitchen. Alcor started to follow, and then paused. He looked back at the hole he’d just punched in the wall and sucked in a deep breath.

That sure was a soul he’d never expected to see again. After all he’d been through, he thought she’d be smart enough to keep away. And yet she had the gall to summon him like nothing had ever happened. Like she’d done nothing wrong.

Like she wasn’t Anna Pines. Like she wasn’t his mother.

He snapped his fingers, and the hole in the wall fixed itself. He squeezed his eyes shut for a minute, and then headed off to the kitchen.

---

The circle was drawn. The candles were set. The sacrifice -- a can of Pitt Cola -- was ready. It was to be a flawless summoning.

The only problem was the unwilling demon.

“Mabel, are you sure this is a good idea?” Dipper asked.

“Yeah, bro-bro, it’ll be great!” Mabel replied in a singsong voice while fiddling with a book of matches. “You said it yourself, Mr. Knows-Everythingpants -- if we do this, then you can be physical for a bit!”

Dipper bit his fingernails -- nails that he couldn’t help but notice were getting longer every day and starting to look a little more like claws than human nails. “That’s not the problem.”

Mabel looked at her brother and rested a hand on her hip. “You’re worried about how they’re going to react?”

He nodded. “They’re our parents. What if they don’t… what if they’re scared of me?”

“Yeah, they are our parents, and that’s why I think it’s gonna go great! They think you’re dead, Dipdops -- they’re gonna be so happy to see that you’re still alive after all!”

Dipper frowned. “I don’t think it’s that easy -”

“Too bad!” Mabel chirped, cutting him off. Having lit the last candle, she pricked her finger and let a drop of blood fall into the circle. “Come on out!”

“Ack!” Dipper let out a squeak as the air twisted around him and he was yanked out of the Mindscape. He felt the atoms rushing around him -- actual, physical matter, collecting on his body and forming a tangible shell. Then he was deposited above the circle, only a few feet away from where he started, but now very much real.

He gaped, the sensations of reality overpowering him for a moment. “Oh my stars, it worked,” he breathed. “I’m actually here, I can feel the air around me, oh wow, I forgot how good this feels!” He let out a little cackle and stretched like he’d been cooped up in a box for weeks.

Mabel grinned. “And you dared to doubt me!” She jumped into the circle with him and gave him a massive hug.

“Mabel, stoppppp,” he whined playfully. “You can already hug me even when I’m not physical.”

“I got excited!” she said, giggling. “But I know a couple of people who can’t hug you normally! Come on, let’s go!” She tugged on his hand and tried to pull him out of the circle.

“Wait…”

“Nuh-uh, broski! You gotta do this, no weaseling out of it! How much time does that can of soda get you?”

He glanced at his wrist, as if he were wearing a watch. “Twenty minutes, I think. But…”

“That’s barely any time! If you’re going to have a heartfelt reunion with your parents, it’s gotta be now!”

He slumped. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll do it.”

She brightened, which was impressive given how excited she’d already appeared. “Yay! Let’s go, they’ll be so excited to see you!”

Dipper had his doubts, but he let himself be pulled from the circle. Mabel skipped out of the room, down the hall, and up to their parents’ closed bedroom door. She knocked three times on the door as Dipper started chewing his nails again.

“Mabel, is that you?” came a groggy-sounding voice from the room.

“Yeah, Mom!” she sang. “I know it’s late, but I’ve got someone here you should see!”

“Can it wait until the morning? Your father and I aren’t exactly prepared to meet anyone right now.”

“Oh, don’t worry, you already know him!” She opened the door and rushed in, pulling Dipper by the hand with her. “Tada!” she announced.

The room was dark, but for the light from the hallway, and the glow of Dipper’s eyes. “Mabel, sweetie,” replied the voice, “it’s 2am. You can show us your new stuffed animals in the morning.”

There was a click, and the lamp beside the bed switched on, revealing their parents. Their father still seemed to be asleep, but their mom was sitting up in bed, a nightmask resting on her forehead, sleepily rubbing her eyes. When she finished and finally took in the scene in front of her, her entire body froze up, every muscle screaming in obvious terror.

“Hi Mom,” Dipper offered nervously, giving a little wave.

Mabel, oblivious to her mother’s body language, beamed at him. “Here he is! In the flesh! Uhh, well, sort of…”

“Mabel?” their mother asked, voice shaking worse than an action figure in a blender. “Wh-wh-wh-what wh-what is that?”

Mabel frowned. “It’s Dipper! I told you he was still alive!”

“I know I look a little different,” Dipper started, “but…”

Their mom seemed to break past her paralysis, and started shaking her husband vigorously. “Mark. Mark! Wake up, wake up!”

“Yeah, this isn’t going well,” Dipper muttered under his breath. Mabel glared at him.

“What is it, Anna?” their father asked. He opened his eyes, took in the sight in front of him, and then jumped about a foot into the air. “Demon!” he yelled. “There’s a demon in here!”

“Dad, it’s just Dipper, calm down!” Mabel yelled back. “I told you he was a demon now!”

Their father grabbed his phone off the bedside table and started pawing frantically at it. “What do we do, Anna? There’s a demon in here! What do we do what do we do what do we do -”

“Quit gibbering, Mark!” their mother spat. “They feed on fear!”

“Mom, Dad, please, I’m not going to hurt you…” Dipper said lamely.

Their father turned sheet white. His mouth flapped open and shut wordlessly, and then he managed to croak, “Dipper?”

Mabel glanced at her brother, grinning again. “Yes! It’s him!”

“No, it’s not!” their mother yelled. “Stop it, Mabel, and -- Mark, will you quit it!”

“I can’t,” he moaned, “that- that’s the demon that killed Dipper, and it’s here to get the rest of us, I knew this was going to happen!”

Their mother glared daggers at him, and then gestured frantically at Mabel. “Get over here now,” she ordered. “Get away from it!”

Dipper shivered -- despite the fact that he was a demon now, his mother’s angry voice still intimidated him. “I- I can explain everything, I promise!”

“It’s lying, Mabel -- do as I say and get over here!”

Mabel half turned to Dipper, looking as shocked as if she’d seen a flying saucer. “Dipper, I didn’t think they’d act like this, I…”

She let out a squeak as her mother wrapped her arms around her stomach and yanked her backwards. “There you go, sweetheart, thank the stars I’ve got you away from that monster!”

“Let go of me!” Mabel shrieked. She tried to squirm her way out of her mother’s grasp, but it was too strong. “Dipper!”

“Mabel!” Dipper cried. He shot forward, and -

There was a popping noise, and the summons expired.

Dipper was still in his parents’ room, but he could tell by the sudden lack of sensation that he was no longer corporeal, and that once again only Mabel could see him. He watched his parents’ faces twist from fear and anger into utter relief; watched how they held Mabel close and said how worried they’d been; watched Mabel’s apologetic look as she glanced back at him.

It didn’t matter. He knew it would happen. There was nothing he could’ve said to make that first meeting go better. He floated through the wall to his bedroom, collapsed above his bed, and let the little yellow tears on his pillow speak for themselves.

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #anna pines #willow pines #mabel pines #mark pines #reincarnation #ficathon #my stuff #fic #long post