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Depravity Falls	By : GeorgeGlass Category: +G through L > Gravity Falls Views: 15956 -:- Recommendations : 4 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: I do not own Gravity Falls or its characters. I made no money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Chapter 2: Statue-tory
Mabel stared at the statue in shock. It hadn’t moved, not even its mouth, but the voice—a woman’s voice—had clearly come from it.
Mabel liked to think of herself as a reasonable person. So even hours later, when she thought back to this moment, she felt that she had done the only thing a rational person could do under those circumstances: leap backwards away from the statue, point one quivering finger at it like an accuser at the Salem witch trials, and scream, “AAAAAAAAH!”
“Mabel, please calm down,” the statuette said in a British-sounding accent.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAH!”
“Really, there’s nothing to be alarmed about.”
“AAAAAAAAH!”
“All right, just let it out, I’ll wait.”
“AAAAAAAAH!” Mabel screamed once more. Then, fervidly shaking her finger at the sculpture, Mabel shouted, “Ancient Booby-Lady Statue is talking!”
“Fond as I am of the name ‘Ancient Booby-Lady Statue,’ why don’t you call me Dee?”
Mabel finally stopped screaming and instead took a few panting breaths, still pointing her finger at the statuette.
“What…the heck…are you?”
“Well, as I mentioned while you were screaming, my name is Dee. I’m a spirit guide.”
Mabel finally stopped pointing as she sat down on a rock and caught her breath.
“Okay,” she began with a hefty dose of suspicion, “so what does a spirit guide do?”
“Since ancient times,” the statuette answered, “my sacred duty has been to help people find their path in life. Special people, like you.”
Mabel raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, special people like me?”
“People who have an important destiny,” the stone figurine replied. “People with the power to change the future—not just for themselves, but for the entire human race. You are such a person, Mabel. You, and your brother.”
“How do you know I have a brother?”
“I know a great deal about your family. Also, you have a noogie mark on your left upper arm; that’s obviously a brother’s doing. And I know a great deal more—including something you may not be ready to hear.”
Mabel took this as a personal challenge. “Oh, you don’t think I’m ready? Because I’m ready. I was born ready. Heck, I was conceived ready!” She blinked. “Okay, I took that to a weird place.”
“That weird place is exactly where you need to be,” Dee replied. “Because what I’m about to tell you will shock you.”
“Jeez, fine, just lay it on me already!”
Dee paused for a moment.
“Twins run in your family,” she said. “You and your brother, your two great uncles…and your parents.”
“What? Phhhhpllllbb!” Mabel raspberried. “My dad’s brother and sister are way younger than him, and my mom’s an only child. Neither one of them has a twin.”
“That’s what they used to think,” Dee said. “Only after they were married did they find out that they were twin brother and sister.”
Mabel looked at the statue with disbelief, which quickly morphed into downright skepticism.
“Oh, horse pucky,” Mabel declared, having picked up the phrase from Old Man McGucket the previous summer. “How is that even possible?”
“Your parents were born prematurely, which is not uncommon with twins. While they were in the neonatal ward, your mother’s incubator was mislabeled. She ended up being taken home by a different couple, who didn’t know that their own baby had died an hour after birth. They never found out that your mother wasn’t their biological child.”
“Aw, come on,” Mabel said. “This sounds like daytime TV stuff. I mean, even if my mom and dad were twins who were separated at birth, what are the odds that they’d meet again and fall in love and get married and all that jazz?”
“We’re talking about destiny, Mabel. Odds don’t enter into it.”
Mabel didn’t have a counterargument for that. In her mind, destiny kind of trumped everything.
“Haven’t you ever noticed,” Dee asked, “how much your parents look alike?”
Mabel had no response to that, either, because her mom and dad did kind of look alike. She’d always thought it was that thing where couples start to look more like each other over time. But then again, time wouldn’t give them the exact same color hair, or the same button noses—both traits that she and Dipper had inherited from them.
“So let’s say I’m buying this,” Mabel said cautiously. “What’s this got to do with my destiny?”
“To fulfill your destiny,” Dee replied, “you and Dipper must follow the same path your parents did.”
Mabel blinked. “Wait, like…marriage, and kids, and one of those adjustable-rate mortgage thingies?”
“Marriage isn’t strictly necessary,” Dee replied. “And if at all possible, I would advise locking in a favorable interest rate rather than- Excuse me, I digress. My point is, the important thing is that you and Dipper become lovers.”
Mabel held up her hands. “Okay, whoa, hey, wow. That’s, that’s beyond cray-cray. It’s like, cray-cray-cray, or cray times cray, or cray to the crayth power, or some kind of big mathy number of cray like that.”
“Mabel,” Dee interrupted, “think back over your life. Deep down, haven’t you always been attracted to Dipper? And hasn’t he always been attracted to you?”
Once again, Mabel had no answer. She couldn’t help but remember the events of that previous night, when she’d heard Dipper pleasuring himself in their room. That had excited her way more than it should have. And then Mabel thought about all the memories she’d dredged up afterward, of the times when Dipper had shown her more than just brotherly interest.
Mabel put her hand to her chin as a thought occurred to her: What if there was a reason why all her efforts to kindle a romance with other boys had failed? What if those many flubbed attempts at connecting with boys weren’t due to her lack of charm, or beauty, or tact? What if, instead, it simply wasn’t meant to be, because as far as fate was concerned, Dipper already had dibs on her?
The thought was deeply comforting. And, Mabel had to admit to herself, exciting.
“Yeah, okay, maybe,” Mabel conceded.
“I know it’s not an easy truth to embrace. But it is the truth, nonetheless.”
“Well, let’s say it is. What am I supposed to do about it?”
“Tonight,” Dee replied, “you must show Dipper that you want him. Physically. And you must get him to show that he wants you. That he wants to experience the pleasures of the body with you.”
Mabel’s eyebrows rose.
“Gosh,” she said. “I don’t know if I could get him to do that. I don’t know if I could get myself to do that.”
“Don’t worry. Just share this chocolate bar with him. It will make you both a bit more…open-minded.”
Out of nowhere, a candy bar appeared in Mabel’s hand. It was in an amber-colored wrapper and looked like a miniature brick with one sloping end and one straight one. Mabel read the label.
“‘Choco-Blocko?’” she said, frowning. “I’ve never heard of this brand.”
“Have you eaten much magic candy?” Dee asked.
“Does Smile Dip count?”
“It does not.”
As Mabel continued to inspect the wrapped bar, Dee continued, “Just share this chocolate with Dipper tonight, and the two of you can begin to fulfill your destiny.”
“Wow,” Mabel said. Then, her eyes going starry, she murmured, “Destiny…”
“Just don’t push things too far, or tell Dipper too much right away,” Dee said. “Definitely don’t tell him about me or about your destiny together just yet. He won’t understand.”
“How come? Dipper’s pretty decent at understanding stuff.”
Seemingly trying to sound colloquial despite her formal manner of speech, Dee replied, “He’s a smart boy, certainly, but you know that matters of the heart are not his ‘jam.’ I mean, the whole Wendy thing, am I right?”
Mabel chuckled. “You’ve got a point there.”
“If you tell him everything too soon, he’ll simply freak out, and then you will never get him where you need him to go. So just take it slow for now. Start with some kissing and ‘hand stuff.’ That will whet his appetite for what comes later.”
“Kissing and hand stuff now, wet stuff later. Got it,” Mabel replied.
“Close enough.”
Mabel felt a twinge of excitement. She’d done some kissing, certainly, but no real hand stuff as of yet, and she was very interested in trying it. Especially if it was going to fulfill her and Dipper’s destiny, which totally overrode any issues regarding getting handsy with her own brother. Yes, certainly it did.
***
It wasn’t easy for Mabel to contain her excitement and wait for the right moment to get things started with Dipper. As she sat through dinner with Dipper, Soos, Grandma Soos, and Melody, she kept looking at her brother while trying not to look like she was looking. Then she would force herself to look away and instead conjure up her most vivid memories of Dipper shirtless, whereupon she would wonder what it would feel like to run her hands across his chest or down his bare back. Then she would feel an electric shock of excitement at the thought that within hours, she would be finding out the answer to those questions.
And when she wasn’t thinking about that, she was thinking about the chocolate in her handbag. Would it taste like regular chocolate, or would it taste weird? How would it make her and Dipper feel when they ate it? Would it make them super horny, or would it just loosen them up, like alcohol? Mabel had never consumed enough alcohol to actually feel its effects (her drinking experience to date was limited to having one small glass of Lovittorshovitz Red Grape when her friend Tilly Kotkin invited her over for Passover dinner), so she couldn’t be sure what drunkenness or even tipsiness was like. But she had once conspired with a couple of her third-grade friends to obtain and drink a bunch of expired cough syrup, which had led to a lot of dizziness and throwing up. That was probably pretty close.
Soos and Melody were going out to a low-budget German-language werewolf movie at the arthouse theater that night, and Grandma Soos had a full evening of TV planned. So to Mabel’s mind, this was the perfect opportunity for Mabel to yank the starter cord on the lawnmower of her and Dipper’s destiny. She just had to play it cool enough that Dipper wouldn’t suspect anything. Although Mabel had to admit, at least to herself, that playing it cool was not exactly her strong suit.
They were hanging out in their room. Dipper was reading back through their Great Uncle Ford’s journals, looking for anything he might not have already learned about Crash Site Omega and the alien tech there. Mabel pretended to leaf through one of her teen magazines, all the while watching her brother out of the corner of her eye and screwing up her courage before she made him an all-important, seemingly innocent offer.
“Hey, Dipper,” Mabel said as casually as she could manage. “Want some chocolate?”
As Mabel had learned during their many Halloweens together, Dipper was pretty fond of chocolate. She briefly wondered whether Dee knew that, too, the way that she seemed to know so many other things about Mabel and Dipper.
“Sure,” the boy said. “Wanna break me off a piece?”
Mabel broke off two rows of three squares and handed the rectangle to Dipper. Whatever was in this chocolate, she wanted her brother to get a good dose of it.
“Wow, generous,” Dipper said. “Thanks.”
He started eating the chocolate as Mabel broke off a piece for herself.
“Hey, this is good,” Dipper said. “Where’d you get this?”
Oh, crud, Mabel thought. I forgot to come up with a chocolate cover story.
Thinking quickly, she replied, “Um, it’s Korean candy. From Candy.”
“Huh. Ironic,” Dipper said. “Or actually, whatever the opposite of ironic is, I guess.”
As Dipper savored the chocolate, Mabel got up and came over to sit next to him on the edge of his bed. At least she’d planned this part in advance.
“So bro,” she said in a conspiratorial tone, “any more thoughts about a little summer romance for the ol’ Dipmeister?”
“Um, I dunno,” Dipper sighed.
Mabel knew her brother was thinking about Wendy and remembering his and Mabel’s conversation about why Wendip or Dippidy or whatever was never going to be a thing. Mabel needed to get her brother’s mind off that track and onto a different one.
“Welllll,” she said, scooching a hair closer, “I’ll bet there are one or two girls around here who’d be into you.”
She watched his face carefully, looking for signs that the chocolate was kicking in while wishing that she’d asked Dee what those signs would be, assuming there were any at all.
“Yeah?” Dipper replied. Mabel could hear a hint of eagerness in his voice when he asked, “Like who?”
She wanted to kiss him right now—just lean over and do it, if only to get it over with. But she had to wait for the right moment to strike. Like a cobra of love, she thought.
“Maybe someone you already know,” Mabel replied cryptically. “Question is, will you know what to do with her? I mean, have you actually kissed a girl?”
“Well, there was Christy Blanchard.”
“That was just a peck,” Mabel replied, “and you only did it because I dared you. When we were six. I’m talking about real kissing.”
Mabel began to feel a warmth inside her chest. At first, she thought she might be imagining it—that it was a placenta effect, or whatever it was called, resulting only from her believing that the chocolate would somehow make her and Dipper horny. But when that warmth bloomed outward, expanding into and over her skin, up into her neck and face and down through her little breasts, she knew she wasn’t just imagining it. And when she saw a pink flush spread across Dipper’s cheeks and down his neck, to the neck of his T-shirt and beyond, she knew he was feeling the same thing.
It was time for the love-cobra to strike. She moved closer to Dipper until her side was pressing against his.
“Wanna try it?” she said. “Kissing me?”
She really did feel like a cobra, or at least like that cartoon cobra that could hypnotize other animals with its eyes. Because Dipper seemed to be under a spell as he leaned toward her, moving his lips closer and closer to hers, his eyes closing. She leaned in, too, but she kept her eyes open, because even though she wanted the kiss to be passionate, she also didn’t want to risk ruining the mood by missing Dipper’s lips and kissing him on the nose or something.
But when their lips touched, the sensation was nothing short of electrifying. This was no sisterly peck but a real kiss, a say-goodnight-at-the-end-of-a-really-good-date kind of kiss. Mabel felt like every inch of her skin had burst into pink flames of desire.
And when she and Dipper pulled away and looked at each other, both of them breathing hard, Mabel could scarcely believe how much more intense kissing Dipper had been than kissing other boys. Was it the chocolate? Or was it him?
Whatever the reason, Mabel wanted more. She put her arms around Dipper and pulled him close.
“M- Mabel,” Dipper stammered, “I don’t think…I don’t think we should keep-”
Mabel knew his resistance was not whole-hearted; the fire that she felt all over her body, she also saw in his eyes. So she silenced him with another kiss. When it was over, she smiled at him, her face mere inches from his.
“Nice, huh?” she said.
Dipper’s face was a picture of internal struggle. Nonetheless, he stammered, “N- Nice.”
Mabel kissed him yet again, this time pulling him so close that his torso was pressed against hers. She could feel the heat of his chest on her small breasts, and she held him even tighter, wanting him to feel her soft boobs against his body, to feel all of her, the way she was feeling all of him.
And then something wonderful happened. As Mabel kissed Dipper again and again, her hands traveling all over his back and her body pressed ardently against his, she felt his hands go around her waist, keeping her close as he began to return her kisses earnestly. With desire. With need.
Their kissing intensified. Mabel moved toward the wall, gently pulling Dipper with her. Dipper either got the hint or else acted out of his own desire as he pushed Mabel against the wall, pressing his body even harder against hers. He felt hot all over, and she could feel something even hotter in his shorts, a hardness against her groin. Mabel found herself moving her feet just a little farther apart to let it press more firmly against her special place.
A part of her wanted to seize the waistband of Dipper’s shorts and yank them down, to expose his hard member to her eyes, her hands, her…everything. But in the back of her mind, she remembered what Dee had said about taking it slow. The last thing Mabel wanted was to spook Dipper and ruin all of this.
So instead, she reached around behind him as they kissed and slid her hand up under the hem of his T-shirt to wander around his bare back. To Mabel’s excitement, Dipper got the hint and slid his own hand up the back of her T-shirt to do the same thing.
They were kissing open-mouthed now—something Mabel hadn’t yet done much of. It felt amazing, like she was breathing Dipper in. She pressed her body harder against his, wanting to envelop him.
She was momentarily startled when she found that while one of her hands was still exploring the topography of Dipper’s back, the other had moved down just below his beltline. She froze that hand in place, fearing how Dipper might react if Mabel were to seize a handful of his booty.
But then, Dipper’s own hand went down onto Mabel’s ass and took hold of it to pull Mabel’s pelvis against his—and thus poke her firmly between the thighs with the erection in his shorts. So Mabel went for it and helped pull him their bodies even tighter against each other.
It wasn’t a conscious decision when Mabel thrust her tongue into Dipper’s mouth; she just felt driven to do it. The move seemed to startle Dipper, who momentarily froze in Mabel’s arms, but then his tongue began to wrestle with hers in the shared space of their open mouths.
They were stumbling around the room now, bumping into walls and furniture, but Mabel scarcely noticed the impacts. Her mind was focused solely on the points of contact between her body and Dipper’s: his lips and tongue against hers, his hands on her back, her hands on his back.
Despite her intense passion, Mabel managed to make one deliberate move: Keeping her hands under Dipper’s shirt, she moved them around from his back to his front, first caressing his stomach and then his chest. She was pleased to find that there was a bit of muscle there that wasn’t obvious to the eye but was easily found by touch.
But exploring Dipper’s body was only part of the purpose of this maneuver. Mabel also wanted Dipper to do likewise.
Of all the details Mabel had agonized over in making her plan for tonight, the one that had required the most thought was a deceptively simple question: Bra, or no bra? She was wearing a sufficiently loose-fitting top that Dipper wouldn’t know the difference until he reached under it. At that point, a bra would create a barrier, and Mabel didn’t want anything to get in the way when they got to the most important part of the “hand stuff.” On the other hand, wearing no bra while she was still in her daytime clothes might make her famously paranoid brother realize that she had set up this whole situation.
But in romance, there was no reward without risk, or so the latest issue of Teen Zine said. So right after dinner, before Dipper came up to their room, Mabel had gotten there first to quickly get her bra off and pitch it under her bed, fearing that throwing it in the laundry basket might be too obvious.
By now, Dipper was surely aware of Mabel’s braless state, because he had run his hands up and down the length of her back without encountering a strap. But he was either too excited to notice or too excited to care, because his kissing and fondling of Mabel hadn’t slowed down at all. Now, Mabel just needed him to take that next step, because her little breasts felt like they were swollen and aching with need.
C’mon, Dipper, she thought urgently. Just move your hands around to the front…Just slide them around my body…My boobies need your hands on them…It would be so easy, I’m not even wearing a bra…C’mon, c’mon, c’mon…
Finally, just when Mabel thought she would have to put Dipper’s hand on her boob herself or else die of horniness, Dipper slid one hand around from her back to her side, tracing the curve that was beginning to develop there. Then that hand started to travel up the invisible line between her side and her front.
Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, she thought. C’mon, higher, just a little higher…there!
His hand came to the outer edge of her breast. And then, miraculously, wonderfully, he cupped her little boob in his hand as squeezed it passionately.
Yes! Mabel thought, stumbling a little as she celebrated inwardly and tried to press her breast even more firmly into Dipper’s hand. Then Dipper pulled away, gasping for air.
“Mabel,” he panted, “I think…we’d better…I need to…to just…oh man…”
Mabel considered herself to be great at many things, but she knew that reading people wasn’t one of them. That said, Dipper was the person she knew best in all the world, so she took a crack at it anyway.
The panting boy looked a little freaked out, but only a little. That was probably the most Mabel could have hoped for. And there was a big old lump in his pants that he hadn’t yet thought to try to hide, so there was no question that he’d been into it. Thus, as far as Mabel was concerned, this was Mission Accomplished.
“Yeah,” she panted. “That was…intense…”
After taking a few more minutes to collect themselves, the twins eased back into normalcy and got ready for bed.
“G’night, Dipper,” Mabel said.
“Good night, Mabel,” the boy replied, turning out the light.
Mabel considered it a good sign that Dipper wasn’t having trouble saying normal things to her right now. But she didn’t want to push him too hard, so she waited until she was certain he was asleep before rubbing one out like crazy.
***
The next morning, Mabel awoke to the smell of frying onions and sausage. She smiled as she slowly opened her eyes to the morning light.
Grandma Soos must be up early, Mabel thought.
She glanced at the old digital clock next to her bed and saw that it wasn’t there. Rather, it was on the floor, its power cord snaking along the floor in the direction of—but not reaching—the wall outlet. Mabel’s mind flashed back a moment the previous night when she and Dipper had struck her nightstand rather forcefully while making out. Then she looked at the time on her phone.
“Dipper, wake up!” she cried. “It’s already eight o’clock!” The Shack opened at eight-thirty.
They leaped up, serially blitzed the shower, dressed, and stampeded downstairs to eat breakfast. Grandma Soos did not like anyone to just grab breakfast on the fly; everyone had to sit down at the kitchen table and eat like civilized people.
This morning, she’d made migas, a breakfast dish of eggs scrambled with diced onions and tomatoes, chorizo, and fried tortilla strips. Mabel declared it her new favorite breakfast and gave Grandma Soos a big sideways hug at the table.
Then it was time to get to work. Melody, Wendy, and Dipper staffed the Shack—among her other responsibilities, Melody shared tour-guide duty with Soos—while Soos and Mabel went out to the shed to work on the golf cart. Soos had corrected the steering problem, but the ancient engine needed an oil change, among other things.
“So how does this engine-y part work?” Mabel asked as they lay side by side beneath the cart
“Okay, so the gas comes in through this pipe here,” Soos said, pointing, “and then it gets squirted up into these little cups above the pistons. The gas gets sprayed into one of the cups in, like, a fine mist, and the spark plug lights the mist like a firecracker. So it goes ‘Bang!’ over the cylinder’s head, and then the little cylinder-dude freaks out and ducks down. But he’s holding onto the crankshaft, so when he goes down, the other cylinder-dude has to go up, like he’s on the other end of a seesaw. And then, just to mess with him, the spark plugs set off some gas above him, and then he ducks down and the other piston has to go up. And they go back and forth like that, which is what keeps the crankshaft turning.”
Mabel couldn’t help but be a bit amazed. Even though she’d approached the task of learning to fix things with her usual level of baseless confidence, she hadn’t been completely sure that she would actually understand any of it. But somehow, Soos’ explanation made total sense.
Once the golf cart was good to go, Soos took it on his maintenance rounds. Mabel went back inside to help with stocking items in the gift shop, as the merchandise there was selling faster than it used to.
She found Dipper alone in the storeroom, putting items on the Shack’s one wobbly rolling cart to take out to the gift shop.
“Hey,” Mabel said.
“Uh, hey,” Dipper replied awkwardly.
“About what happened last night,” Mabel began, “I-”
“I’m…still processing that,” Dipper interrupted.
“I was just gonna say, um, that I don’t want it to make things weird between us.”
In fact, that wasn’t what Mabel had been about to say. She’d been about to hint, as subtly as possible, that the events of the previous night had been awesome, and that she wouldn’t mind repeating the experience right there in the stockroom. But Dipper was obviously not ready for that. Then it occurred to Mabel that the effects of Dee’s magic chocolate had probably worn off hours ago, and now she felt stupid and embarrassed for even considering the idea of trying to get Dipper to make out with her in this dusty back room.
But she still had some chocolate left. And with any luck, Dipper would be willing to try some more that night.
***
It was a busy—and thus profitable—day at the Shack. Mabel had noticed that the daily volume of visitors had picked up since the previous year, and she figured it probably made a difference that the proprietor was now an affable man-child who loved his work instead of a grumpy, shady old man who was just trying to make a buck off of vacationing rubes.
So, at closing time, Soos announced that he was taking all the Mystery Shack employees out for dinner at Greasy’s Diner—another thing that never would have happened during Grunkle Stan’s tenure. Dipper and Mabel rode in the pickup with Soos, while Melody took Wendy and Grandma Soos in her car.
The six of them sat around a circular table. The diner was fairly busy, but someone came soon to take their order.
“Hey, guys.”
Mabel looked up and saw something her brain was not prepared to wrap itself around. Instead of Lazy Susan, a very familiar blonde girl was standing there, wearing something Mabel never would have thought the girl would be caught dead in: a waitress’ apron.
“Pacifica?” Mabel blurted.
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Depravity Falls