Hey, guys. Big Diesel and [girlfriendoftheauthor] here. As I am still in recovery from my surgery, my girlfriend had the honors of writing this story for me. Even in my drug-induced state, I am able to write. So, please forgive me of the obscenities of this. The inspiration for this chapter comes from a YouTube video that my girl has shown me. If you have ever of this YouTuber named [Pleaseloveme], she is awesome. Actually, the username is in Japanese and I know she has recently changed her name to [I am a gay person]. So, if you guys translate it on any website that supports translation, her username is in Japanese. She is a young ASMRtist and a gifted writer. She goes under the name, SamaraThornPsycho, on AO3. She is actually good and my girl and I are inspired by her creatively twisted works. This artist is a woman to watch out for in the future. I look forward to the great things she is going to do.

Anyway, after watching her doing a video of a yuri (lesbian) yandere ASMR, my girl challenged me to write a yuri story from the Gravity Falls fandom. My girl is a mega fan of Gravity Falls and she is a Mabel x Pacifica and Bill x Dipper fan, I said why not? Plus, my girl enjoys writing my stories that involve yuri or yaoi.

The premise of this new story is first, alternative universe. Pacifica is the anti-hero of the tale as she invites her crush, Mabel, to her mansion for a slumber party. Pacifica knows the moment Mabel crosses that door, she will never be the same Mabel again. I hope you guys enjoy. Take care and God bless!


A wise man once told me that the eyes are the windows to the soul. What you seek cannot be hidden. For it is within those beady pupils, a person's true character lies within. Those dark, lovely eyes. Drawing me in with such subtle grace. Like a kiss on the cheek from a loved one. Or a rose petal landing smoothly on water. Quiet, gentle, graceful steps you make when you walk upon the ground. The scent of lavender and honeydew fills my nostrils, inviting me to a perilous journey of my womanhood, telling me things on what I shouldn't do. What is forcing me to do...to you.

I can never forget the day I have met you. The day that would forever change my life. Seeing those eyes. Those inviting, alluring doe eyes as we crossed paths on that fateful day. That smile. Oh, that lovely smile that was invited for all of the worlds to see. Your eyes, your smile...those were the most favorite parts of you, my little fishy. My little fishy is what I have decided to call you. Nimble, gentle, qualities of a woman that I find very, very invigorating, intriguing, arousing.

It tears me up inside on such a forbidden act to love another of your own kind. Such a taboo. A treacherous act, I may add, but an act I must cross and conquer. Conquering is the method to this madness in contrast to the pain I feel from the very, very sharp razor. That no longer suffices any feelings, my little fishy. Scarred into the tissue of my flesh...rage. They say rage is the thief of joy, the thief of love. A thin line of loneliness, despair...hatred. Hatred of myself, my parents, my therapist, those students, especially those bitches that tear me from the inside out. Those eyes, staring into me like daggers. Their smiles, lacerating my soul. The voices they fill into my head.

Alas, seeing my little fishy. The vision that opened the curtains. The vision that wipes away my tears.

I do believe that darkness does envelope our souls, my little fishy. Anger, fear, sadness, and this rage. Carved into my skin like a tattoo, but hidden away like an evil spirit. Only to be seen for those who invite themselves to sin. So, you see, my little fishy, when I stare into those lovely, lovely eyes and seeing that lovely, lovely smile, I, too, see the forbidden sin that lies beneath you as well.

Birds of a feather do flock together, my sweetness. Or in this case, I am just a fragile black sheep running with a pack of wolves.

Mabel. Mabel Pines is what they call you, my little fishy. It is Latin for loveable and dear. The name adorns me like a pearl necklace, hanging from the tree.

Pines. As I descend into this darkness, taking the ladder route and kicking the ladder down, will you support me, my little fishy? Watching me lose every breath for you? Will you do it for me, my little fishy? Just thinking of you make my loins linger. Just the fact when you call my name takes my breath away, just as this necklace that hangs from your branch, our branch.

Can we peril into this darkness together? Can I push you into the descent of no return? Can I make you, force you, hurt you, love you, hate you, excite you, dement you, enrage you? Can I Mabel? Can I enrage you to hate me? If love is rage, then rage is love.

Can I swallow you whole into a grave like a pit? Can I change that smile that you give others that they don't deserve? Can I? Can I?

Can I fade those precious eyes? Can I make it only for me by me? As the blood dries and the crust forms, so do the feelings of wanting your affection, your love, your hate.

And your rage.

Pacifica Northwest was sitting in her bedroom brushing her hair. She just finished applying her makeup to her flushed cheeks. She looked in the mirror that displayed the cracks from her previous episodes to check on her appearance. She wanted today to be special for today that Mabel Pines was coming over for a slumber party. The rich blonde had enough courage to approach Mabel at school to ask her to come over. And with her inviting personality, Mabel excitedly told Pacifica that she would be able to come over.

Pacifica had hoped that Mabel was ready for the special surprise that she prepared for her upon her arrival. It took Pacifica a lot of courage to admit that she shared feelings for the same sex. It wasn't that she didn't dislike boys. She still didn't mind dating them, but with a woman, the feeling was different. And different was Mabel. Mabel didn't come from a well-to-do family like Pacifica's. She was ordinary, average, braces, and out-of-fashion clothes. But it wasn't that that made her sway to Mabel, it was her enchanting smile and those beady eyes. That smile, those eyes, she imagined in the night of seeing that smile curve and her eyes become teary. Wettened by the anguish of Pacifica's love. She clapped her hands in excitement for the event that was to come tonight.

Be as it may it Mabel was reciprocal of those feelings, it mattered not. Pacifica had a thing for the brunette and she won't let go. She refused to let go. This new profound feeling, sinking into her darkened heart, stronger than the hate and disdain she had for her parents. Rougher than the scars on her arms.

Rage. Hate. The love of rage and hate. And the things she can do to change Mabel. That was her little fishy and it won't be long until her little fishy would come into her castle, welcoming into the arms of her troubled master.

It was a knock that interrupted her thought. "Excuse me, Mistress Pacifica. A Miss Mabel is here to see you." She can see the butler standing in the mirror. He, too, appeared nervous. It was as if he said the wrong word, then the blonde would be a ticking time bomb. Pacifica didn't say a word. She backed away from her chair. She covered her arms with her long sleeves. She walked quietly past the butler. She made a small, gentle whisper. The butler dropped to his knees, petrified of repeating the words his mistress had said to him.

Pacifica heard the sweet voice of her little fishy downstairs. She was ready for this night for this will be the last night anyone would have heard such a sultry, sweet voice again.

To be continued….