Explanation of What You're About to Read: Sequins is a loosely connected set of drabbles, wherein which you'll be experiencing Reverse!Dipper's sociopathic and somewhat melancholic mental ramblings up close. Or at least you'll be experiencing my version of him. Because there aren't enough fics like this, obviously. (What, no, of course I'm not blatantly lying!) Warning, there is light Pinecest, so if that bothers you, shoo. Written for someone who wishes to remain anonymous and hopefully doesn't hate me too much for how absurdly long this took me to write.
xXx
There's this part of me that continually has to watch Gideon and Pacifica Pines as they bravely vanquish us, triumphant grins on their faces, and wonders what they think they're doing.
Eliminating a threat? Evil? Or just other kids?
Do they get a thrill out of it, like I get when my sister and I hold an entire audience captive with wonder, or I use magic with the stone around my neck, or I look at Mabel's pretty lips on her pretty face and I get to kiss her? Or is it just the satisfaction of knowing that they've done what they think is right?
What in the world is right? It seems to change with every person.
Pacifica doesn't think it's right to be cruel. But Mabel thinks that we need to show everyone just who they're messing with.
They're so different, and that just makes it more laughable when you realize how similar they are. They even look the same, somewhat. Both have long hair, diamonds in their ears, and carry some random thing in their mouths like it's normal. Who Mabel found willing to sell cigars to a child is beyond me, as is why Pacifica trots everywhere with a flower in her mouth, but I suppose that the old adage holds true: Women, no matter what age, are fucking nuts.
Grenda especially. She creeps me out. And I deal with unholy beings, who think it's acceptable to bite and leave body parts around, on an almost daily basis.