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Chapter Text

The day had started out relatively normally—Webby invited Lena over(because of course she did), and the triplets spent the first half an hour of the afternoon trying to get into Webby’s room.

They tried a surprise attack with dart guns—that backfired horribly. 

They tried a surprise pillow attack—that also backfired. 

Scheme after plot after idea after plan was foiled over the span of thirty minutes, leaving the triplets lying on the floor of the hallway, exhausted. 

“It's a sleepover,” Dewey whispered, his voice a mix of envy and longing. “They're having a sleepover! Without us!”

“We have to get in,” Huey declared, his brow furrowed in concentration. “This is a major social injustice. We are the older brothers, and yet we are excluded from this...this…slumber party!”

“Uh, guys,” Louie piped up. “Are you forgetting that we aren’t their brothers?”

Huey paused, processing his younger brother’s words, then jabbed a finger in Louie’s direction. “That is an insult to Webby! Uncle Scrooge said that she’s an honorary member of our family, so take that!’

“Wait, he said that? When?” Dewey asked, sitting up. 

“Like, three days ago, I don’t know exactly!” The oldest exclaimed. “The point is, Louie’s wrong and this is an INEXCUSABLE CRIME!”

“Fine, fine, okay, jeez,” Louie rolled his eyes, walking over to the door of Webby’s room. 

He knocked on the door and backed away, narrowly avoiding getting when it swung open. 

Lena was at the door, looking down at the triplets. “Pink, your brothers are here,” She called, glancing behind her shoulder, then turned back to them. “What d’you want?” 

“Uuuuhh,” Louie’s eyes darted to Huey. “Excellent question, which Hubert here would be more than happy to answer,” With that, Louie pushed the eldest triplet forward, earning him a glare from his brother. 

“Right, well, uh..you see, we..I..uuuuuhhhh..let us into your sleepover! …please?” 

Dewey shook his head sadly, and Louie pat Huey on the head. “Nailed it,” the youngest commented.

Huey pushed him.

The older duck raised her brow at him, turning to look inside the room. “Hey, Pink, c’mere,”

Webby ran up to them, grinning. “Hi!”

The triplets waved, and Lena glanced down at the younger girl. 

“Right, so, Pink, your brothers here wanted to join the sleepover. What d’you think?” 

“Hmmmmmmmm…” Webby squinted at the boys, then grinned. “Sure!”

Huey, ever the planner, had meticulously crafted a schedule, complete with a 'Scary Story Hour' and a late-night Adventure Time marathon. 

Dewey, the self-proclaimed “party planner”, had insisted on a ‘Mystery Treasure Hunt’ in the mansion, promising valuable clues and hidden treasures, though everyone suspected most of the ‘treasures’ would be just more snacks. 

Louie had brought a stash of video games and a portable console, ensuring entertainment even if the mystery treasure hunt turned out to be a dud.

Webby, brimming with excitement, had already claimed the biggest pile of pillows, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. 

Lena, her usual cynicism softened by the warmth of the gathering, sat beside Webby, a book tucked under her arm, occasionally glancing at the others with a mischievous grin.

The first hour was a flurry of activity. The treasure hunt turned out to be more hilariously chaotic than expected, especially when Dewey's “clues” led them to a series of bizarre locations, including the boiler room and the pantry. The 'Scary Story Hour' ended with more laughter than screams, as Webby’s ghost story about a talking teapot turned out to be more comical than terrifying.

As the night deepened, the energy shifted. The Adventure Time marathon became a shared experience, the nostalgic laughter echoing through the mansion as they watched their favorite adventures unfold on screen. The stories of Finn and Jake, their escapades, and the vibrant characters they met on their journeys painted an intricate tapestry of shared memories and dreams.

Louie, engrossed in a particularly thrilling episode, leaned back with a sigh. “I really wish we could go on adventures like that.”

“We do,” replied Huey, turning to his younger brother. “Remember the time we found the lost city of Atlantis? Or the time we climbed to the top of Mount Neverrest? Or when we saved Uncle Gladstone from being a prisoner at a casino? We've had plenty of adventures!”

“Technically, we never actually made it to the top,” Dewey commented. 

Huey rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever–we got farther than anyone else has,”

“Yeah, but what about the sword fighting, the lava, the..I dunno, the other stuff?” Louie questioned. 

“We can do sword fighting!” Webby exclaimed, pulling a pool noodle from underneath a pillow and swinging it wildly at her friends. 

“How long has that been there?!” Huey yelped as the pool noodle knocked his hat off of his head. 

“Prepare to meet your doom, feathered fiends!” Louie declared, brandishing a plastic collapsable lightsaber with a theatrical flourish. He'd managed to snag it from his Uncle Donald's collection of Star Wars paraphernalia, much to his uncle's dismay, and kept it in his pocket at all times.

Dewey parried with a stick he’d grabbed from Webby’s open closet, because apparently she had that. “Not so fast, Llewellyn,” he scoffed. “My stick is the mightiest weapon in Duckburg!”

Huey, who’d climbed onto Webby’s bed, observed from the sidelines. “Dewey, you're vulnerable from the left! Louie, your stance is weak! Perhaps if you studied the Art of War…”

“Shut up, Huey!” Louie shouted, swinging the lightsaber at his older brother, who barely managed to avoid getting hit by it. 

Lena let out a theatrical cry, falling to the floor dramatically and clutching her side. 

“I’ve been struck by…shit, I don’t remember your name, the blue one! Avenge meeeee!” Her head flopped to the side, tongue sticking out of her beak. 

“Lena, nooo!” Webby gasped, turning to Dewey with a playful glare. “You shall feel my WRAAAAATH!”

Dewey yelped, blocking her swings with his stick until his arms grew tired. Webby struck him in the stomach with her pool noodle, and he gasped, feigning pain and falling to his knees. “Remember..meeeeee..!” Then he, too, pretended to be dead. 

“Damn, Dewey died,” Louie said with zero emotion in his voice. Huey punched him in the shoulder with a glare. “I mean..ooooh nooooo, my deeeaaar brother Dewford has been slain, how saaaad. I surrender, I’d rather not die at the age of ten.”

The five started laughing hysterically. Huey rolled out of the bed and onto the floor with a grunt, but they only stopped laughing for a moment before continuing. 

After they’d calmed down, they lay on the floor in silence. 

“Well, what now?” Lena asked. 

“We should do a magic thing!” Webby exclaimed, jumping up and running over to a pile of books on the floor beside her bed. 

“Oooooo, now I’m interested,” Louie commented, rubbing his hands together, while at the same time, Lena shouted, “That’s a terrible idea!”

“Too late!” The duckling grabbed one of the books and raced back to her spot on the floor next to Lena. 

Webby opened the book and started flipping through the pages, stopping on one about inter-dimensional portals. 

Webby started reading the words on the page, soon joined by the triplets, then glanced at Lena, who was fidgeting with her necklace, and grabbed her hand. 

The teen started to glow blue, which soon spread to the other four. 

And, a few seconds later, the ducklings vanished. 

Chapter Text

It had been a long evening at the Mystery Shack, and Mabel and Dipper were long asleep from their late-night adventure at the haunted convenience store. 

Stan Pines, the only other person still present in the tourist trap, was rooting around his kitchen for more ice cream, as he wasn’t done watching movies on the black-and-white period piece old lady boring movie channel.

Unfortunately for him, he’d already eaten all of the ice cream, and he couldn’t go get more, because a) it was 11:45 at night, and b) he’d have to wake up the kids. 

He jumped when he heard a thud from below his feet, cursing inwardly and racing to the vending machine. 

He put in the code and entered the underground room(after he’d grabbed a broom, of course). 

On the ground in the middle of the room lay five white figures. 

One of them jolted upright, head moving wildly to take in their surroundings. 

“What’re you?” He demanded, pointing the broom at it.

It stood up and turned to look at him, yelping as he smacked it across the head with the broom.

Beak. It had a beak. 

The noise brought the other four into consciousness, but they were definitely smaller than the other one. 

The taller one growled at Stan, moving the other four behind it. 

“Back off,” it hissed, eyes narrowed. 

“Or what? Seriously, what the hell are you?” He questioned, taking a step towards the creatures.

“Lena!” One of them squeaked, getting the tall one’s attention. “Are you okay? Do you know where we are?” 

“I’m fine, Pink,” it responded, smiling. “And..no, I have no clue where we are,”

“You’re in my house, that’s where you are,” 

The bird thing turned back to him. 

“Then show us how to get out of here, and we’ll gladly leave.” 

He grunted, turning around and moving towards the exit, gesturing for them to follow.

“So, what are you?” The one in red asked once they’d arrived at the front door. 

“Human,” he replied. “You?”

“Duck,”

“Can ya get outta my house now?”

“…Grunkle Stan?”

He turned around to see his grand niece and nephew standing in the door frame of the dining room. 

“Uh..hey?” The duck in blue waved with an awkward smile. 

In an instant, the red duck was holding a worn orange-ish red book, flipping through the pages of it. At the same time, Dipper pulled a book seemingly from nowhere and started doing the same. 

Stan drew a sharp breath when he recognized the journal his grand-nephew was holding, then quickly composed himself to make it seem like nothing had happened. 

He caught the duck in a green hoodie staring at him strangely, so he shot him a glare and turned away. 

“What are you??” Dipper and the one in red asked at the same time. 

“HI!” Mabel exclaimed, and the duck with a bow said it back with matching enthusiasm. 

“Hang on,” the tall creature said. “Can we introduce ourselves before befriending each other?”

“Right,” Dipper put the journal down on the table and sat down, drumming his fingers on the wooden surface. “I’m Dipper, that’s my sister Mabel, and our great uncle Stan.”

“HI, I’M WEBBY!” 

“Pink, volume,” 

“Oh, right, sorry. Hi, I’m Webby! That’s my best friend Lena, and that’s Huey, Dewey, and Louie!”

Dipper gave a small, “Huh,” as he picked the journal back up, only to set it back down. 

“Triplets. Mabel and I are twins.” 

Stan's grip slightly tightened on the broom, a few cracks spreading through it. 

Dipper clicked a nearby pen several times, taking the journal to one of the empty pages. 

“So, what are you?” He asked, glancing up at them. 

“Ducks,” the red one–Huey–responded. 

“How’d ya get here?” Stan demanded, eyes narrowed. The taller one–Lena–took a step toward Webby, fiddling with a cord around her neck. 

“Um..we..don’t..know?” Lena managed. 

He rolled his eyes. “Please, you obviously know. Can’t con a conman,”

“That’s what I said!” Louie exclaimed, getting a few odd looks from his friends. He cleared his throat. “I mean, uh, obviously.”

“So, we were kinda trying to make a portal–” Stan picked Webby up instantly, causing her to let out a startled yelp. 

“Put her down!” Lena shouted, clutching the purple stone around her neck. The room became darker, and Stan thought he could make out a pair of glowing red eyes from behind the teen. 

He dropped Webby, and the room was immediately back to normal. 

“Alright, get out of my house! You’re obviously magic, and I can’t have you runnin’ around the shack with that magic! Do you know how many people could get hurt??” 

“What? Lena isn’t magic,” Dewey scoffed. “If she was magic, Duckworth would’ve known, and he would’ve never let her into the manor,”

Huey nodded. “Yep, that checks out,”

“I one-hundred percent agree,” Louie said, then paused. “Well, she could be..okay, I fifty..fifty-five..sixty percent agree,”

Webby glared at him. “Alright, alright, seventy-five, sheesh,”

“Yeah, look, if I was magic, the first thing I’d do is get it out of me,” Lena told him. “I hate magic.”

Her eyes moved, and he followed them to her shadow on the wall. She glared at her shadow, then turned back to look at him. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose with a sigh, walking into the kitchen. 

“Fine, fine, whatever. What d’you kids want for breakfast?” He asked. 

“Uh, Grunkle Stan, it’s not even one in the morning–” he waved his hand dismissively at Dipper. “Yeah, yeah, relax. Breakfast can be whenever ya want,”

“I actually have to eat around the same time every day so I can take my medicine,” Dewey said. “NO WAY ME TOO!” Mabel exclaimed. 

“Dewey, your breakfast schedule consists of wake up, eat, do something,” Huey crumpled a piece of paper into a ball and threw it at his brother, who yelped, fumbling to try and catch it. 

“So?” 

“So you only ever take your medicine when one of us reminds you to! And sometimes you don’t do it then, either!” 

“If the doctors want me to swallow a capsule every morning, then they should’ve found a way to make me remember! It’s not MY fault that my memory sucks!” 

“Louie,”

“Yeah?”

“..wanna stab your brother?” 

Louie pulled a plastic lightsaber from his pocket, grinning and laughing manically. 

“I thought you’d never ask!”

Chapter Text

The atmosphere in the Mystery Shack was upbeat for the time it was. Stan was relieved that the…ducks weren't causing any issues. 

He'd had enough to do with running the shack, spending time with his family, and keeping the weirdness of Gravity Falls away from that family. 

His mind kept going back to the journal Dipper had. His brother's journal. He sucked in a deep breath, ignoring the raised eyebrow he got from the green triplet–Louie–and couldn't help but chuckle as he saw most of the kids sprawled on the ground from a fake fight. 

As much as he still didn't trust them, at least his kids were having some fun. The only other kids in the Falls were Gideon, who was out to kill him, Pacifica, who was enough of an explanation, and some friends Mabel had made with her Wax Sculpture. 

As long as they didn't cause trouble, he could deal with them being at the Shack.

There was something weird going on, and it wasn’t just the fact that they were in a completely different universe.

There was something up with that Stan guy–Louie could feel it. 

And it wasn’t just because he was a conman(although that might have something to do with it). It was mostly how he’d reacted when Webby mentioned portals, and when he’d seen the book this nephew had had–Dipper, was it? 

Louie knew when someone was up to something, and there wasn’t a single doubt in his mind that Stan was hiding something. 

“Hey, Huey, can I talk to you?” He asked, tapping his oldest brother’s shoulder. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Huey turned to look at him, closing his book–which was, surprisingly, not the Junior Woodchuck’s guidebook. 

“I just, uh, wanted to know if you thought something about these people is…I dunno, off?”

He gave him a puzzled expression, but patted the spot on the couch beside him and smiled softly. 

“You mean other than the fact that they’re some weird, never-before-seen creature in another dimension?” 

“Yeah, seriously,” Dewey’s voice said out of nowhere. “What the heck is a hooomaaan?” He plopped down on the couch, squeezing in between his brothers. 

Louie laughed. “I think it’s pronounced human, Dewey.” His brother scoffed. “Pffft, nah, sounds too much like Huey,”

“Hey!” The oldest exclaimed. “What’s that supposed to mean??”

“Nooothiiiing, Huuuueeeeyyyyy,” The middle triplet responded, dragging out the vowels. 

Amidst his brothers beginning to bicker, Louie leaned back, seeing Stan hovering over Dipper, who was still eagerly scribbling in the journal. 

Lena was in the corner of Louie’s eye, and they shared a very small nod at the strange scene.

And then Lena had to rush over to Webby, who was in her battle stance.

“Pink, is that an entire thing of industrial sprinkles?” The question hovered in the air as Webby nodded. 

“Mabel said she needed my help opening this!”

“Where do you even get these..” Lena just mumbled to herself. 

“I got it from Mabel! ‘Cause she needed my help to open it!” Webby responded. 

“Be careful, I guess,” The older duck said, sitting down on the floor and pulling out her phone. 

“Okay, so,” Louie glanced over at Dipper, who was looking at them. “You guys are from a city called Duckburg?”

They nodded. 

“And you go on adventures with your great uncle Scrooge,” 

Another nod. 

“Who’s the richest duck in the world,”

They nodded again. 

“And also owns the city?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Dewey said. 

“And there’s no humans in your world?” The boy asked. 

Huey shook his head. “Nope, just ducks, dogs, bears, birds…a lot of kinds of people, but no humans,”

“So,” Louie glanced at Dipper and Mabel. “What d’you guys do for fun around here?”

Dipper gave a look back and forth, before opening up the journal and flipping through the pages.

“This book has all sorts of information about Gravity Falls! Stuff you wouldn't believe!”

“We'd believe it.” Huey replied flatly.

“No no no I can-wait. You'd believe me?” 

“In the past few weeks, we went to Atlantis, defeated a gang twice, stopped a luck vampire, nearly made it to the top of a magical mountain, and nearly got thrown off the roof of a CEOs helipad.” Huey responded very flatly, while Dewie and Webby eagerly nodded, and Louie just looked ill. 

“Not to mention what we do around the mansion! Our games of death darts are fun!” Webby bounced up and down on her feet. 

“Just darts Pink. Just darts.” Lena sighed. 

“I see the darts in my nightmares.” Huey whispered. 

“Ooookaaaay,” Dipper gestured for the ducks to go over to him, and he opened the book and laid it flat out on the table.

“June eighteenth?” Huey questioned, glancing at Dipper. The boy shrugged. “First entry,”

“If he wants to know the why, he should figure out the what, when, where, and how!” Webby exclaimed, leaning toward the book. 

“D’you know what the codes say?” Lena asked, drawing everyone’s eyes to her. “What? There’re codes here,” she pointed at the 35 3 30 at the top of the page, then at the string of symbols and other random numbers. 

“Huh, I never noticed that,” Dipper said, turning the page. “Floating eyes, giant vampire bats,” he turned the page again, shuddering. “Ugh, gnomes,”

“GNOMES? WHERE???” Mabel yelled, jumping into the room from out of nowhere, brandishing her grappling hook. 

“Mabel, there aren’t actually any gnomes here right now,” her brother told her, and she blinked, lowering her grappling hook. “Oh. Huh. Okay then. If you see any let me knoooow!” And with that, she disappeared. 

…somehow.

Louie decided not to question the abilities of the sparkly hooman.

Huey turned the book so that it was facing him, flipping through the pages and stopping on one titled My Muse.

“Well that sounds ominous,” Dewey commented, leaning over Huey’s shoulder. 

“One more thing about me: I have a secret,” Huey read aloud. “Although I have relied my entire life on my intuition and intelligence to provide me with answers, two years ago I experienced a miracle while napping in the forest, and that has forever changed the way I think about the world and my place in it.”

“I was contacted by a ‘Muse,’” Dewey said, putting the last word in air quotes. “I know it sounds crazy, but a strange being from a higher plane took sympathy with my search me to be a—shit, wrong line,” 

He put his finger on one of the words and moved it down a space, moving his finger along the words as he spoke. “Here we go! Strange being blah blah blah..higher plane..sympathy with my search..for knowledge and amazingly chose me to a receptacle for divine and otherworldly insight. Ha, nailed it!”

“You forgot your meds this morning, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, I did…” Dewey deflated, then shoved Huey aside. “Lou, come look at this—it’s weird!” 

The youngest triplet shrugged, walking over to his brother and peering down at the page. 

Dewey was right—it was weird. 

“Note: burn this page after research is complete,” Louie read. “Well, that didn’t happen,” 

Louie flipped to a random page, cringing back as his beak wrinkled in disgust. “Oh, ew, ew, ew! Stomach-Faced Duck?!?”

“TURN THE PAGE, TURN THE PAGE!” Dewey shrieked, covering his eyes. 

Huey quickly turned to a page titled The Undead.  

“Says here that zombies are known for their pale skin and bad attitude, and are often mistaken for teenagers,” Louie turned to Lena. “Are we sure you’re not a zombie?”

The second she looked up from her phone to glare at him he knew he was dead.

Chapter Text

Stan turned around with a large plate of pancakes, seeing Lena holding Louie upside down on the couch by the ankles. 

“Lena, I think you should let go now,” Webby said, looking at the somewhat normal scene. 

“You're probably right Pink.” Lena let go of Louie, dropping him onto the floor with a thud.

Stan chuckled slightly as he placed the still-hot pancakes on the table. 

“Maybe you are just kids where you come from. Sure seems like it. Once we get some food in us, I have more questions though.” 

“That sounds reasonable. Thank you for making us pancakes as well.” Huey let Dipper and Mabel serve themselves first before he placed two on his own plate. 

“No problem,” Stan sat down in his chair. There wasn’t a whole lot of space at the table, and his recliner was more comfortable than the wooden chairs, so he decided to let the kids have the table. 

“So,” Dewey’s voice cut through the suffocating silence. “What’s…everyone’s favorite color, I guess?’

“That’s the dumbest, most cliche thing you could’ve asked,” Louie leaned back in his chair, fiddling with his fork. “And green or gold,”

“Uhh..I like blue, I guess? Dark green is really cool too,” Dipper responded. 

Dewey nodded. “My favorite color is blue, but, like, specific blues. It can’t be too bright, light, or dark,” 

“So, basically, you’re picky,” Huey said, ignoring his brother’s glare. 

“Well, if it’s too bright it’ll hurt my eyes. If it’s too light, it’ll also hurt my eyes. If it’s too dark–”

“Let me guess,” Lena interrupted, glancing up at him from her phone. “Hurts your eyes?”

“I like pink!” Webby exclaimed, shocking absolutely nobody. 

“Red,” the oldest triplet said simply, not looking up from Dipper’s book. 

“RRRRAAAAIIIINNNBBBOOOOOWWWWW!!!” Mabel shrieked, throwing glitter and confetti from her spot on top of the fridge. 

“GAH! MABEL, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN UP THERE???” The other twin demanded, shaking his arms to try and get the confetti off. “A very long–and boring–amount of time that nobody shall ever know!”

“How about you, Lena?” Louie asked, startling the teen. 

“Huh?” 

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Oh,” she blinked. “Uh…I dunno, pink is alright, I guess?” 

Louie scoffed. “Please, you’re only saying that ‘cause Webby said her favorite color is pink. What’s actually your favorite?”

“I-Wh-I dunno, blue? Purple? Pink? I-why does my favorite color matter?”

“Why’re you getting so defensive about it?” The youngest triplet shot back. 

Her eye twitched. “You’re starting to get on my fuckin nerves, Green,” she hissed, fist clenching around her fork. 

“Okay, okay, okay, l-let’s—let’s not get crazy here—” Huey stuttered, standing up. 

“Yeah,” Webby said, placing her hand on Lena’s. “Calm down,”

The older duck closed her eyes and took a deep breath, the tension leaving her shoulders and her fingers becoming loose around the fork. 

“Uh huh,” she took another breath, then glanced at Webby with a small smile. “I’m calm,”

Louie gulped when she turned back to him with a glare, putting his hands up. “Alright, alright, I know when to stop,”

“So. You were trying to do..something and ended up in the basement…” Stan shifted in his recliner, reclaiming attention. 

“Wait, the shack has a basement?” 

Stan ignored Dipper, still trying to find the right position in his recliner. 

“You ended up there and I'm assuming you saw why. I doubt you're getting home the same way.”

Huey stood up, shuffling his hands and feet repeatedly. 

“That doesn't make sense. To establish a link between us and you, it would've had to be a stable connection…”

“Gonna stop you there, before you go into the real nerd talk.”

Huey looked back at Stan, who seemed way too knowledgeable on inter-dimensional travel. 

“The link you took had power. You brought enough back, but now there's no energy source on either side.”

“So, let me get this straight,” Dewey turned to look at Stan, drumming his fingers on the table. “We tried using magic. That led to magic over here and magic over there to connect and bring us here.”

Stan thought for a moment, then nodded. 

“Wait, what?” 

Dewey turned towards Mabel. 

“Okay, so, see this rock?” He pulled two of his magnetic rocks from who knows where, holding them up so that everyone could see them. 

“Think of my hand as the multiverse. This rock,” he placed one of them in his other hand. “Is you guys, and this one,” he held up his other hand to show the second rock. “Is us,”

“And imagine the magnetic pull is the magic—on their own, they stay still, but when they get closer together—and stronger—they’re pulled to each other. When we tried to open a portal, it was like we moved the rocks closer together—the magic got stronger,”

He set the rocks down on the table and started to slowly push them towards each other. 

“And our world’s magic kept getting stronger, so your world responded to it with its own magic, and voila!” The rocks attached together, making a click sound. 

“…what?” 

“Yeah, dude, that made literally zero sense,”

Dewey pouted. “Hey, it makes total sense!”

“Dewey,” Louie put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It makes even less sense now than it did before.”

“Huuuueeeeyyyyyy,” he whined. “They’re being meeeeeaaaan to meeeee,”

The oldest triplet rolled his eyes. “Louie, stop bullying Dewey. Dewey, stop complaining–what are you, five?” 

Louie laughed. 

“Hey!” Dewey protested. “If I’m five, you’re five too! Three seconds isn’t that much of an age gap!”

“He’s got you there,” the triplet in green commented.

Huey turned to him. “Louie, you’re fifteen seconds younger than him?”

Louie shrugged. “I have at least two IDs that say otherwise, but sure, whatever ya say,”

“Hang on, WHAT!?” 

“Why does Louie get fake IDs when I can’t even get a letterman jacket??” Dewey demanded, crossing his arms. 

“Louie shouldn’t have fake IDs!” Huey exclaimed, tossing his arms in the air out of exasperation. “And it isn’t up to me whether or not you can have a letterman jacket, it’s up to Uncle Donald. Well, and or Uncle Scrooge,”

“This is probably the dumbest conversation I have ever heard in all my fifteen or so years of life,” Lena commented, not looking up from her phone. “And that’s saying something,”

Chapter Text

Weird stuff happened in the life of Scrooge McDuck—it was part of the whole adventuring thing.

However, he’s never had five children magically disappear from his house before. 

So, when he went upstairs to Webbigail’s room to see how her sleepover was going, he did not expect for them to not even be there.

He also didn’t know what to do. 

So, of course, he did the first thing that came to mind—yell for the retired spy living in his house. 

“…Beakley?” He called. “Kin ye, uh..kin ye c’mere?”

He heard shuffling from elsewhere in the manor, then turned around to see her standing right behind him.

Not creepy at all. 

It definitely did not startle the great Scrooge NcDuck. Nope. No. Not at all. 

“…what did you do?”

He gasped. “ME?? Why wuid ah hae anythin’ t’ dae wi’ ‘is???”

“Well, one, it’s your mansion, and two, your day job,”

She had him there. 

“Ah didnae dae anythin’!”

“..right,” she drawled, picking him up by the shoulders and placing him at the edge of the staircase. “We should tell Donald,”

“Okay, aye, probably,”

She stared at him until he continued. 

“..whit if we dinnae tell him jus’ yit?”

“I’m going to pretend you never said that,”

That was code for that was a stupid thing to say and I’m going to pretend that the people in this world aren’t that stupid because I have lost all faith in society.

“Fair, fair,”

“So, Donald,”

His nephew blinked sleepily at him. 

“Et’stree n teh morning,” 

“..aye, aye it is,”

Donald just stared blankly at him. 

Scrooge sighed. “Beakley telt me ‘at ah shuid tell ye ‘at eh weans ur kindae…gaen,”

The sailor blinked. 

He blinked again. 

And then he blew up. 

Scrooge managed to make out ‘they’re’ and ‘what’ at the beginning before he quickly and quietly turned and ran back to the manor. 

That didn’t help. 

Donald followed him, screeching incoherently. 

Scrooge didn’t know everything he was saying(then again, that wasn’t new), but he managed to decipher the sentence ‘I will burn this city to the ground,’ along with a few choice words that were often associated with sailors. 

Bentina Beakley was so incredibly done with the McDucks. 

Why had she decided that Scrooge McDuck’s manor was the best place for her to raise Webby?

Excellent question. 

She entered the living room at the worst possible time, being met with two screaming ducks. 

“Curse me kilts, Donald! Ye cannae tear a hole n th’ multiverse w’ sheer rage! Believe me, a’ve tried,”

“Ai kintry!”

“It willny wirk!”

“Dat’s wat utink!”

“Ye willny succeed!”

“Wactmeh!”

“A’ll gladlae watch ye fail!”

“GENTLEMEN,”

The two ducks yelped, whirling around with a jump. 

Donald said something that sounded like a greeting and waved, while Scrooge simply smiled awkwardly. 

“I’m so glad to know that you two have been here squabbling like children whilst the actual children are still who knows where!”

“In ma—sorry, oor— defense—”

She raised a brow at him. 

“Aye, we ain’t actin lek adults..an’ tis a’ Donald’s fault!”

The younger duck let out an enraged squawk, lunging at Scrooge. 

“CURSE ME KILTS, DONALD!” The older man screeched, wrestling with his nephew. “BEEEAAAKLEEEYYYY!”

“Nope, you’re on your own here,” 

“WHIT??? NA WA—”

She walked away. 

Agent 22 decided that it’d be more worthwhile for her to look around Webby’s room to see if there were any hints at what happened—searching for clues, she was good at that. 

There were blankets and pillows strewn about the room, and candy and cans of pep spangled the floor with color.

It was incredibly annoying and bright. 

A pool noodle covered in holes(that weren’t supposed to be there) and a stick were lying near each other, surrounded by scuffs on the floor. 

The most interesting thing she found was an open book. 

That in itself wasn’t surprising—her granddaughter loved reading. 

The shock was the title of the page. 

Inter-Dimensional Rifts

An interdimensional rift is a phenomenon which can allow for transit to realms outside of the normal space time continuum. 

Beakley stared at the page, grabbing the book from the floor. 

It isn’t guaranteed that you’ll make a rift, but if you wish to try, gather at least two other people, sit in a circle, hold hands, and recite the chant below. If there’s a source of magic within a ten mile radius of you, something will definitely happen. What that something will be, I have no idea—there are millions of possibilities. 

Have fun!

[The author, publisher, and team behind 75% Accurate is not liable for injury, death, financial loss, or property damage]

Now the chant:

Inoihcces icredevirra

Yzarc em evord ti retpahc siht ekil retteb uoy

Llet uoy nac derit m’i gnik I sit olleh os fI siht daer enoyna nac

Siht rof hguone evitaerc ton m’i

She closed the book to see the author’s name. 

Small problem, though—there was no author listed. 

She huffed, leaving the room and going down the stairs to see how Scrooge and Donald were doing

They were both on the floor panting.

She sighed. 

“Alright, boys, are you done yet?” 

“Aye,” Scrooge replied, sounding exhausted. 

Donald simply nodded his head. 

“Excellent,” she picked up the men by their shirt collars and placed them on the couch, thrusting the book into the older man’s hands. 

“Have you ever seen this book before?”

He glanced down at it. “..a book aboot knives?” 

She pinched the bridge of her beak, leaning over to flip to the page about portals. 

“That,” she jabbed her finger at it. “Have you ever seen that?”  

“..na, Beakley, ah cannae say ah hae,”

Donald peered over Scrooge’s shoulder, his beak opening comedically wide. 

“Thay WAT??”

They took a break. 

After all, it was three-forty-five in the morning—they were tired. 

So they had breakfast and hydrated and contemplated their existence for about fifteen minutes. 

Their silence was interrupted by Duckworth clearing his throat. 

“Shouldn’t you inform the other one’s family?” He questioned, drawing their attention to him.

“Lena?” Beakley asked, and the ghost nodded. “Do we even know anything about her and her family?”

Donald shook his head. 

“What about a last name? And address?” 

“Na,” Scrooge said, tapping his foot on the floor. 

“So not only is our family missing,” 22 started. “But someone else’s child is as well, and we can’t even tell them?”

Chapter Text

“Grunkle Stan, are you sure throwing a party is a good idea?” Dipper asked. 

“What? ‘Course it is,” 

The boy shrugged, turning to his sister. 

“Oh no, Mabel—I-I don’t..feel..so good—! I—BBBBBLLLAAAAAHHHHH!” He sprayed silly string at her, who started spraying her own silly string. “Oh, Grunkle Stan, what did you feed us??

“Guys, guys, stop! Something terrible just happened!” Wendy ran up to the twins, catching their attention, only to spray silly string at them. 

The three laughed, and Mabel threw confetti in the air. “Comedy gold!”

Louie popped up from behind the catch with a mischievous grin, stealing Dipper’s can. 

“Hey!” 

The youngest triplet held a finger to his lips, silently telling them to be quiet, then snuck towards Webby and Lena. 

“Aha!” He sprayed silly string at the girls, only to be pinned to the floor by Webby and punched in the stomach by Lena. 

“Louie?” Webby blinked, standing up from her wheezing friend. 

“In hindsight,” he said through shallow breaths. “I should’ve seen that coming,”

“Alright, alright! Party supplies are now off limits,” Stan took the cans and confetti, turning to hand them to Huey. “Here kid, go put these in my room,”

“Uuuh but you said—”

“Ssshhhh, you’re the only one I even remotely trust,”

Huey shrugged, heading towards the stairs. “I’ll take it,”

“Mr. Pines, whose birthday is it again?”

“Nobody’s,” he responded. “Thought this party might be a good way to get kids to spend money at the Shack. The young people of this town want fun?? I’ll smother them with fun!”

“That sounds ominous and I no longer feel safe,” Dewey commented. 

“Maybe comments like that are why kids don’t come here,” Dipper suggested, pouring soda into two plastic cups and handing one to Mabel. 

“Nonsense!” Stan grabbed a piece of paper from a nearby shelf. “Hows about you make yourself useful and copy these fliers?” 

The boy took the paper and sighed, grabbing his sister’s hand. 

“Oh boy, a trip to the copier store!”

“Mugs, calendars, t-shirts, and more—they got it all at the copier store!” Soos exclaimed. “That’s not their slogan, I just really feel that way about the copier store,”

“Save the trouble. You know the old copier in my office? I finally fixed the old girl up—good as new!”

“Leeeenaaaaaa,” Webby whispered loudly to the teen. “Can we go toooo?”

Lena shrugged. “I don’t see why not. Why’re you even asking me? I’m not in charge of you,”

“Because I want you to go with me!” The younger duck grabbed her friend’s arm, pulling her up the stairs after the twins. 

Dipper pulled a sheet off of the old copy machine, coughing at the dust and waving the moths away. 

Lena lifted the lid up. “Does it even work?” 

Webby pressed a button, resting her arm on the machine, not noticing it turning on. 

Mabel picked up the piece of paper that had fallen out of the machine. “Hey, it works!”

She yelped, dropping it suddenly. 

“Mabel?” 

Dipper turned to see her aggressively stomping on the photocopy of Webby’s arm. 

“IT’S ALIIIIIVE!” His sister exclaimed, kicking it into a wall, only for it to get back up and start crawling towards her. 

“Stay back!” Dipper threw Mabel’s cup of soda at it, watching it disintegrate. “Mabel, I think this thing can copy human beings!”

She gasped. “Do you know what this means???” 

They stared at each other for a moment, before Mabel lifted a can of silly string up and sprayed it at him. “BBBBLLLLAAAAAHHHH!!”

Huey whistled to himself as he made his way to Stan’s room, fumbling with the door knob because of all the stuff he was holding. 

He entered the dark room, setting the cans down on the floor and switching the light on. 

“While I’m here I might as well look around,” he thought aloud. 

Louie had asked him if something about the Pines family felt off, and he hadn’t answered, because he didn’t want his little brother to worry. 

But the truth?

The truth of the situation was complicated.

The answer to his brother’s question was a definite yes.

But Huey didn’t think the Pines family was bad.

Stan was hiding something, that Huey was sure of, but he didn’t know if the twins were involved, or if it was dangerous, or if he was just being paranoid. 

Now, did he want to snoop around an elderly man’s room?

No, not really.

Was he going to do it anyway?

Yes. 

Absolutely.

He skimmed over papers, dug through drawers, read the back(and first page) of every book, and ended up finding nothing. 

Well, nothing except for Dipper’s journal. But why would Stan have it?

The more closely Huey looked at the book, the more holes in the story his mind had created to explain everything was revealed. 

Why was it in Stan’s room?

Why does this one look older?

Didn’t Dipper have his journal in the living room?

Then he realized it wasn’t the same book. 

The number.

The number on the golden six-fingered was different. 

“So, Soos, you’re the DJ, because you’ll work for free and literally begged me for it,” Stan said, ignoring his employee’s response. “Wendy, Mabel, you’re manning the ticket stand,”

“What?? But this is the perfect opportunity to make new friends!”

“I could work with Wendy,” Dipper offered. Stan raised a brow at his great-nephew. “Oh, yeah? You realize that if you do, you gotta commit to staying at the ticket stand, right? No getting out of it, just the two of you, alone, all night,”

Dipper glanced at Wendy(who was spraying Soos’s stomach with silly string) and smiled. “I promise,”

“Alright, fine,” Stan relented, turning to the ducks. “You five have to stay inside and hidden until everyone’s left, got it?”

Lena lazily did a mock salute, Webby nodded, Dewey gave him a thumbs up, Louie shrugged, and Huey was…not there.

“Okay, where’s the red one?” The man demanded. 

“I’m here!” Huey’s voice announced from the top of the stairs. “Sorry, I got lost,”

Stan waved his hand dismissively. “It’s alright,”

“Why did we decide to hide in here?” Lena asked, holding onto Webby. 

“Because every other room was gonna be needed for the party,” Louie said. 

“Can we at least turn the light on?”

“What, scared of the dark?”

The older duck growled at Louie, eyes narrowed. 

“I miss my glowy stars,” Webby whispered, drawing Lena’s attention to her. The teen’s eyes softened, and she wrapped her arms around her friend. 

They all froze when the door creaked open, prepared to charge at whoever had entered the room. 

It was just Dipper. 

“Dipper? What are you doing here?”

“Ooooh yeah, you guys are in here. Uh, hey, I’m just gonna use Stan’s copier machine real quick,”

He shuffled across the room, laid down on the machine, and copied himself. 

“Yeah, I’m not gonna get into whatever is happening right now, please leave so we can hide in peace,”

Chapter Text

“Hang on,” Dewey’s voice cut the silence. “Did that thing just make a second Dipper?”

“Yes,” the clone said. “Yes, yes it did,”

“Does that mean he has two twins now?” Huey asked. 

“Mmmaaaayyybbbeeeeee?” Dipper replied. “I honestly have no idea,”

“I will call you number two,” the boy wrote 2 on the clone’s hat.

“Dude, really?”

“Definitely not. You know what name I’ve always wanted?”

“Tyrone?” both Dipper’s said at the same time. 

The original laughed. “Okay, Tyrone, let’s get down to business. I’m thinking you cover for me at the ticket stand while I ask Wendy to dance,”

“I know the plan, buddy,” 

“Hey, wait,” Dipper took a step back. “We're not gonna get jealous and turn on each other like in the movies, are we?”

“Dipper, please, this is you you’re talking about. Plus, hey,” Tyrone snapped his fingers. “You can always just disintegrate me with water.”

The two left, leaving the ducks in silence. 

“Well, that was weir—Dewey, hey, Dewey—” 

The duckling in blue had made his way over to the copier machine, lying down on it with a mischievous smile. 

“Dewey, no, don’t you—Dewey! Hey!” Huey called to no avail. “Deuteronomy Dewford Dingus Duck get back here and off that thing—”

“I can’t heeeaaaar yoooouuuu!” With that, he pushed the button, grinning as the machine scanned him. 

A photocopy of him fell onto the floor, then fizzled and shook until it formed a physical copy of Dewey.

“Wooooaaaah,” both Dewey’s said, poking each other in the forehead. 

The door of the office swung open, revealing Dipper and Tyrone, who rushed over to the copier machine. 

Dipper quickly scanned himself, then wrote 3 on the clone’s hat. 

“..and that’s where you come in, number three!”

“But what if Robbie catches me? I’ll be all alone!”

“Yeah, he makes a good point,” Tyrone commented. 

“Okay, one more. Good point. Four Dippers. This is a four Dipper plan,” the boy laid down on the machine again, making another copy of himself. 

…well, he was, until it jammed. 

Tyrone pulled the paper out, yelping as it came to life and attacked him. 

“C’mon, you’re not gonna make me partner with him, are you?” 

Tyrone shot Three a glare. “SSSSHHHHHH, don’t be RUDE!” He turned back to Paper Jam Dipper(what Dewey decided to call this guy), and hugged him. “Hey, buddy, it’s okay,”

“Okay, just one more clone,”

Six. 

Dipper made six more clones.

“Dude,” Lena put a hand on his shoulder. “You gotta stop. At this point it’s just not healthy,”

He shook his head, smacking her hand away(and ignoring her slight flinch). “Nope, nope, nope, nope! This is a genius plan, and nothing can go wrong! Alright, Dippers, you all clear on what you gotta do?”

The clones nodded and left. 

Louie whistled, pulling popcorn from who knows where. “This is so going to backfire on him,”

Approximately fifteen minutes later, the clones returned and threw Dipper in a closet. 

“Okay, now that Original Dipper, or Dipper Classic is no longer fit for it, I nominate myself to get to dance with Wendy instead,” Tyrone announced. “I’ve been around the longest, so it should be me, right? I mean, logically. Logically, guys,”

“Uh,” the clones turned to stare at Huey. “Did you guys forget that we’ve been hiding in here, like, all night?”

The Dippers stood in awkward silence(a clear sign that they had, indeed, forgotten). 

“Hang on,” Five said. “If Dipper’s friends are in here, wouldn’t they help him escape the closet?”

“I wouldn’t say we’re friends,” Lena commented, leaning against the closet. “I mean, we met, like, a day ago. Why would I break him out of a closet?”

The clones nodded, muttering things like makes sense.

“But on the other hand,” Dewey piped up from behind Five. “It’s not very nice to lock people in closets. I mean, have you ever been in the closet before? Coming out of it feels great,” he added with a wink, getting a snort from Lena and a laugh out of Webby. 

“Not that you would know,” Louie said. “You fell out of the closet. Literally. Onto me. It was terrible,”

“Hey! I said I was sorry!”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you fell on me??”

“Hey, guys, if you were trapped in a closet, what would you do?” Tyrone asked. “Break out,” all nine clones said simultaneously. 

They turned to the closet, which was wide open. 

“Wh-but-how??? All the ducks are here, how’d they do that??”

“You’re forgetting something,” Dewey grinned. “You’re not the only clones in blue around here,”

“The only blue part about them is the hat,” Huey pointed out, earning a glare from his brother. 

“Not the time, Hubert!”

The clones raced outside, shooting glares and frowns at the ducks. 

Dewey must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew, it was back down to one disappointed Dipper. 

Also, his clone was gone for some reason?

It was quite tragic—he’d gone outside after everyone had left to get the copy of him, but all he found was a bunch of soggy paper.

So now he’s under the impression that Dipper commited genocide against the clone community(Dewey’s clone included) and wondering whether or not he should involve the authorities. 

Dipper sat down next to him with a sigh. 

“You, uh—you okay?” He asked awkwardly. He could solve problems, he could give advice, but condolences and supporting people while seeming genuine? Impossible.

Instead of answering, the bot just grunted, his head on the table. 

“I know you were, like, excited to dance with her, but..there’ll always be more opportunities. You like her—that’s pretty obvious—but whether or not she feels the same is a mystery, and it will be forever. Or, at least, until you talk to her,” he lightly punched Dipper’s shoulder. “But go at your pace, okay? There’s no rush, no need to hurry. Enjoy your summer and see what happens—who knows, maybe you’re dreams will come true,”

“You’re just saying that,” Dipper scoffed teasingly. “To try and make me feel better,”

“Well, is it working?”

The boy shrugged, a smile playing on his lips. “A bit,”

Chapter Text

Lena was used to nightmares. 

Sometimes they weren’t even nightmares– they were just… bad. 

There wasn’t really a good way of explaining it. 

There were dreams when Webby got hurt(usually by either herself or Aunt Magica), there were dreams when she would relive a moment from her past, dreams about Magica’s past, and stuff like that–then sometimes there were dreams where she just had unpleasant experiences or had to listen to Magica ranting about her evil scheme. There was one where she was back on Mount Vesuvius and the entire world was spinning–she didn’t really like that one. 

But this dream was new. 

Well, it started off as a regular Aunt Magica Succeeds And It Sucks dream, but then triangles with eyes started appearing everywhere. At one point it changed completely, and she was in a huge field that seemed to go on forever. 

“Well, well, well, look who we have here!” A voice echoed, and a single glowing eye appeared in front of her. “Hang on, who are you?”

“Why should I tell you?” She demanded, crossing her arms. 

“...fair point. But what if I told you that you could help me–”

“–defeat an old man you have a grudge against? Not interested,”

“Do you know who I am!?” The wind picked up and the eye turned into a glowing yellow triangle with a tophat. 

The definition of menacing. 

“Nope,”

“GAH! I’m an all-powerful being, a dream demon, I have shaped the world’s history!”

“Uh huh, uh huh, good for you, but in case you haven’t noticed, I’m not from this world,”

“But–”

“Look, I already have an ‘all-powerful magical disembodied being that can talk via your thoughts and dreams and has it out for an old guy,’ I don’t need another,”

As if on cue, Magica formed behind her in her usual mass of darkness, red eyes narrowed to slits. 

Speak of the devil. Lena thought. 

“Lena,” her aunt placed a hand on her shoulder, digging her sharp shadowy nails into the young duck’s feathers. “What did you do this time and who is this?”

“I didn’t do anything,” 

“I’m Bill Cipher, nice to meet you!” The triangle held a hand out to the two. 

Lena moved to shake his hand, yelping slightly when Magica smacked it and shooting her aunt a glare. 

“Never shake a demon’s hand,” her aunt scoffed. “How have you managed to live this long if you’re so dumb?”

The duckling rolled her eyes, fiddling with the cord of her amulet. 

“It’s not my fault you didn’t teach me anything other than how much Scrooge sucks,” she muttered. 

The younger duck winced as Magica squeezed her shoulder harder. 

“Gee, your guys’s relationship sure is amazing,”

“I know, right?” 

“Oh, shut up, Lena, no one asked you,”

“So are you guys friends, is this a hostage situation..?”

“She’s my aunt,”

“Dang.”

“Yyyeeeep,”

“I’m not your aunt, you’re not even real,”

“You’re right,” Lena deadpanned. “You’d technically be my mother,”

“Just because I created you doesn’t mean I’m your mother!”

“Now this I gotta hear,”

Lena shrugged, rolling her shoulders to get her aunt’s hand off. 

“Not much to it—she made me from her shadow fifteen years ago so that I could enact revenge on the guy that defeated her,”

The triangle’s single eye blinked. 

“Huh,” he said. “That probably would make you two related,” 

“Oh, shut up, you’re literally just an Illuminati wannabe,”

“How the fuck do you know the Illuminati is??”

“Because you know what it is, deficente,”

“As entertaining as this is,” Bill interjected. “I’d like to know what you’re doing here. In case you didn’t know, I’m the big bad around here, and I don’t take kindly to uninvited guests,”

“One, I don’t even want to be here, it’s entirely the fault of this idiot,” she remarked, waving at Lena. “And two, you’re the one that invaded my puppet’s mind, in case you’ve forgotten,”

“I’m right here!”

“Shut up, the grown-ups are talking,”

“If I can’t be a part of the conversation going on in MY brain, than how about you talk ELSEWHERE?”

Lena felt a burning pain in her chest as the world became dark. 

“Sorry, did you just tell your master what to do?” Her aunt snarled, her shadowy form growing ten times larger and looming over the duckling. 

“Wh-what-? N-no, I-I was just—” she stammered, shrinking away. 

“Dang, kid, your aunt is pretty hardcore,”

Lena’s gaze flickered over to Bill, eyes narrowed, then shot back to Magica as the shadow hissed and grabbed her with one hand. 

“I-s-sorry, A-aunt Magica,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet. 

The duckling yelped as she was dropped, folding in on herself instinctively when she hit the ground, lying still(save for her shaking).

“So, why are you here?” The witch asked the demon, ignoring her ‘niece’ trembling in front of her.

“Well, the kid is obviously magic, so I decided to see if she’d join me willingly,”

“What if I..did..didn’t j-join you..?” She asked between breaths, lifting her head to glare at him.

He shrugged.

“Then I’d take control of your body, obviously,”

“Wow, how creative,” Lena deadpanned.

Bill didn’t have a mouth, but she could tell if he did, he’d be scowling.

“Oh, shut up,” Magica ordered. 

(Lena hated the way she instinctively closed her beak)

“Now, Cipher, I don’t usually enjoy working with others, however…” the shadow smirked, holding a hand out to Bill. 

“So..do we have a deal?”