Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls!

Title: Epee of Ink

Summary: (Teen!Delinquent AU) In which tattoos end up brightening both of the Pines' twins in their lesser hours.

Warnings: Vampire!Gideon, because why not?

...

It'd been a bright and sunny day out when Gideon Gleeful had been munched on by a vampire.

Most supernatural origin stories have a bit more pizz-azz than his. Secrets, lies, forbidden love- the like. That opening statement, in and of itself, was a farce, and far more interesting than the actual happening. His story was a tad more simple than all that. Gideon had been a rather dangerous child, with a habit of biting off more than he could chew- pun intended. He'd conjured up an ancient vampire's tooth, perhaps from the great Dracula himself (a little dark magic never hurt anyone), stuck it in the palm of his hand, then sent it back from whence it came.

He'd done it on a whim. Now-a-days, with some psychology books under his belt, Gideon wondered if he'd been striving for immortality subconsciously. As though, through it, he could become better than the folks he manipulated, and therefore feel better about himself. If so, then his younger self had had a lot to learn.

Vampires aren't immortal, for one. They don't have any special powers or abilities. He had to wear more sunscreen on sunny days, but he'd always burned like a hamburger on a griddle set on too high a heat anyhow. The venom he'd once had- capable of turning others- had been removed, leaving nothing but useless fangs in their wake. It'd been one of the conditions he'd accepted to avoid getting chased out of town.

Fun fact: vampire fangs grow continuously, much like a rodent's, in order to properly pass on the gene. With as many punches to the face a person can take in one lifetime, it's good to have a backup.

That's it. That's all they really do. Gideon's learned to file them once or twice a day, or simply gnaw on some wood around the clock. He'd rather not do either, and let them keep to a longer size, but he had to tread a fine line with the locals, you see. Wendy's already threatened to chop his hair off with an axe, and Gideon knows all too well that woman doesn't make empty threats.

"Quit it." A dark hand tapped his cheek. Seated on a child's booster seat (Gideon had always been small, but he rather preferred that) with what amounted to a fancy apron tied around his neck, Gideon looked and felt just plain silly. Having someone else cut his hair horrified him, but friends are supposed to 'support' each other, so he'd really had no choice. "You need to sit still."

Gideon glared into the long mirror, trying to magically gain heat vision and melt the young woman's face off. "I have to, and you know it!"

"It won't kill you to let them grow. It'll take less than an hour to get this done." Tambry's hands ran through Gideon's hair. Her face scrunched up. "Never mind. That's a lot of hair gel."

"It'll take me days to file 'em back down, all even and smooth!" He scoffed, throwing his back against the chair as a sort of tantrum. "I have a system, woman!"

"So do I." Tambry clacked her scissors together in demonstration. "Don't make me go for the ears, you little twerp."

Gideon was saved from answering by the connecting door between her hair salon and Robbie's tattoo parlor opening. He eyed the the older man's side-shave and blue-purple highlights with mild distaste as he shuffled into the room. "Hey, babe. Babysitting?"

"Might as well be." She sighed, but it wasn't intended to be mean. He hoped. "Isn't it a bit early for a break?"

He slumped into an open chair. "Yeah, probably. But I needed some air."

"Well, since you're still on the clock, you can sweep my floors." She gestured to a supply closest on the back wall, next to what looked to be a unisex bathroom. "You know where the broom is."

Robbie let out an explosive sigh- his form of a tantrum, Gideon thought- and sulked over to it, gathering forgotten bits of brown and black hair from a nearby corner. "I guess this is my fault; hiring a teenager."

"Mabel giving you trouble?" She frowned, pulling her fingers free. "Dunno what you want me to do here, Gideon. There's no changing it."

Gideon snatched his head away as though it contained dark secrets, glancing at Robbie with glowing eyes. "Mabel's here? Now?"

"I mean, at the moment?" He pointed out the window. "She's haunting the curb, all gloom-ily. That's my job."

Gideon caught sight of a blue and pink blouse adorning her body, and felt a stab of disappointment it wasn't sweater weather. He also noticed short curly hair; she'd cut it. Gideon wanted to cry, but knew better than to say as much. Freedom of choice, and all that jazz.

He'd known his darling angel was in town, of course. Everybody knew. Dipper and Mabel far from blended in, what with their habits of causing mayhem wherever they went and chasing around magical creatures. Gideon had merely been trying to give her space, to let her come to him when she was ready, but there she was, within sight. It was a miracle.

"I just don't get her." Robbie says. "She's either causing trouble and gambling my customers out of their saving with card games, or moping around like she's planning a funeral. There's no in-between."

"Bipolar?"

"I doubt it." He dismissed. "Just weird."

Suddenly, Gideon had a simple but effective way to wriggle out of this, and he took it, jerking to get out of the bib. "I'll go talk to her! Maybe she just needs some cheering up, is all."

Tambry tsks and helps him with the knots he can't reach. "Don't be a creeper."

"I won't be. I know how to be polite."

"Whatever you say, dude."

"Seriously, bro." Robbie warns him. "She'll shank you."

"Ignore him. And, if anyone asks, I took a bit off the top, okay?"

"Alright." He dismissed distractedly, staring out the window. "Will do."

Upon closer examination, Gideon realized she was wearing black shorts with the blouse, tan legs unmarred save for the odd boo-boo covered in a band-aid and a few scars. A cheap plastic necklace settled nicely around her collar; a not-so-cheap star nose ring glittered in the bright sunlight. He could just barely make out the edges of a tattoo on her shoulder. It looks blue at the edges, whatever it is.

Gideon shuffled his own feet, clad in bulky sweatpants and shirt that was three sizes too big with a meme on the front, suddenly feeling remarkably unprepared.

Mabel took a swig of her Pitt Cola, spat out the pit, wiped it on her shirt, and chucked it at him. "For your fangs."

It hit the ground before he could finagle his thick fingers around it. "Gosh darnit!"

"I have a pack of smokes, if you're into that sort of thing."

"You smoke?"

"No. But it never hurts to have a new bad habit ready."

Gideon examines her loose shoulders and half-lidded eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Existence is meaningless and I'm not allowed to have any cake this late." She stated bluntly. "Let me delve into my nihilistic side in peace."

"You sound like you're having a rough time, doll." He thought better of patting her knee like a petulant child.

"I'm not. Things are just peachy. Mama Wendy's awesome, I got a room, all the food I can eat, etc, etc. I'm merely filled with teenage hormones." She laughed shrilly, letting herself fall back onto the sidewalk. "I'm sorry. Your voice is really grinding on my gears."

Gideon kicks his little legs up. "If it's my voice that's bothering you, then I won't talk no more."

"Silence is worse." She admitted gruffly.

"Didja have a bad night?"

"Oh, no. It was perfect. Dipper woke up screaming, I woke up screaming- one big lovely angst-fest before the coffee was even brewed."

Gideon winced, although he knew the poison wasn't necessarily directed towards him. It felt instead like he was watching her idly sharpen stakes with acid, jabbing the finished products into her tummy and sighing when no blood came out.

And, as a vampire, you can probably guess how Gideon felt about stakes.

"Anything I can do to help? I can go pick up a cake from the convenience store."

"I'm not hungry." Mabel answered curtly, swallowing down the last of her soda. Gideon winced, resisting the urge to remind her how easy it was to choke when laying down. "I wish I was, but I'm not."

"You wanna bounce, then?"

"I want to do my job, but Robbie's being a big pair of fussybritches. Apparently, my "sour disposition" freaks folks out. Hypocrite."

"Huh. You think it'd be the gambling."

Mabel cracked open a single pretty brown eye to examine him. She was still frowning. "When did you figure out sarcasm?"

"'Bout the time I almost died from a lack of knowin'." He replied quickly, hoping to entice a laugh out of her.

"Yeah." Mabel's eye slid shut. "Me too."

They listened to the cricket and cicadas chirp for some time, the sun melting red patterns into Gideon's hands. He cursed himself for not thinking to bring block.

"You could tattoo me." He offered sheepishly, shaking in his boots. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Gideon hadn't been scared of anything since Weirdmaggedon, and that was a fact. A fact made out of stone. A rock fact.

Without missing a beat, Mabel replied; "You've got the padding for it, but what kind of tat would you even want?"

"The Tent of Telepathy sign!" Gideon exclaimed, without thinking. "It's always been my favorite shape."

"I've got a shooting star." She mused dryly. "And now you want the star thingy. See a pattern?"

He knew, almost instinctively, the answer. "They're all things from that circle thinga-ma-jig."

"I wonder if this is gonna be a thing for us. Dipper's already got a birthmark of his. McGucket wears glasses. Ford was born with his, too. But you can't exactly carry around something like a shooting star or a symbol- tattoo city is it for us, then."

The idea makes him a bit nervous, honestly. Being that connected with folks he was only distant friends with. "Maybe."

"Maybe Mama Wendy'll get an ice bag." Her tone is flat. "That'd be funny."

"So, uh." Gideon says, perhaps a bit too loud. "About that tattoo."

"Chickening out on me, sparkle teeth?"

"Sparkle teeth?"

"Great uncle Ford says he heard of a dimension where the vampires glitter. It sounds horrible." She gave a small laugh, more of a cough. "So much for cover."

"...Alrighty then." He shook himself out of a whiplash-induced haze. "Whatever. Are we doin' this or not?"

"Are we?"

"'Course. I can afford it." Even now, Gideon was far from lacking in the money department.

"Seeing how this is a pity-tattoo, I think I can take it out of my paycheck."

"It's not a-" But Mabel was already shuffling towards the door. There was a slump to her shoulders, but the beginnings of a glean in her eyes.

Gideon had helped.

He clung to that knowledge- and the table- like a mantra as he felt the needle pierce the tender skin of his right shoulder blade over and over again, ruining his perfect sharpen to avoid puncturing his lip by cracking wood between his canines. He'd forgotten his own fear of sharp pointy things.

All in all, though, it was worth the fear.

Author's Note; Second two-chapter 'fic for this AU, and my first go at Teen!Gideon!

A little nod to the vampire theory, and a little reference to Over The Garden Wall. I'm sure you saw it if you're a fan of the show; 'tis not exactly subtle.

-Mandaree1