Disclaimer: I don't own Gravity Falls!

Title: Tremors

Summary: Dipper and Mabel return for the summer. Pacifica is overworked. Mabel gets bitten by a were-possum. Dipper's trying to organize their journal.

...

anxresi- Pacifica has an emotionally abusive family.

Veor Hrdenda- Here's the final part!

...

"Death! Death! Death! Death!"

"Girls, girls, please!" Mabel waved her hands frantically, stopping Candy and Grenda mid-chant. "We can't kill Evil Jerkface, remember? Ford needs him alive so he can cure me."

"Oh," Candy said, frowning. "Right. Sorry, Mabel."

"We can maim him, though, right?" Grenda asked, squeezing the handle on her bat.

"That is absolutely allowed."

"Awesome!" The larger girl threw her hands up. They began to chant once again. "Maim! Maim! Maim! Maim!"

"Oh, you guys..." Mabel put her chin on her hands, sighing pleasantly. "I love you two so much."

Pacifica, half-sleep, let out a quiet groan from the counter. She was still wearing the polka dot sweater and pajama pants. "This is the stupidest outfit I could've chosen to possibly die in."

"You could go home," Dipper offered, scribbling in the margins of his notebook. He added can eat metal to the list of things they knew about were-possums, recalling with an uneasy shudder the two bars Mabel had chewed through in the night. Thankfully, it seemed to be lengthy work, and she was unable to finish it before the sun rose. "Soos could drive you."

She lifted her head up slightly. "There's no way I'm stopping by my house after having an argument with my Dad to change clothes."

"You do intend to go home, though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah. After we catch the possum thingy."

"Pacifica." Candy walked up and took her hand, pulling her out of her seat. She slipped something metal onto her hands. "There. Now you are ready."

"...Did you just give me brass knuckles?"

She nodded, patting her hand. "Candy keeps her people protected."

Grenda flanked the girl's side, holding a brush. "Turn around. We kick baddies' butts in style 'round here."

Pacifica slowly reversed herself, meeting Mabel's eyes with a frown. "I can't believe I'm being mom-ed by the people I used to bully."

"I can't believe I'm mom-ing you," Candy confessed.

"Me neither!" Grenda pulled the brush through her short locks. "I actually considered pulling on your hair as a joke, but that's a little too mean, even for us."

"Please don't."

The front door slammed open so suddenly they all jumped, even as the familiar wheezing of Thompson registered in their ears. The boy looked like a wreck. His nose was stuffed to the rafters, sweat stains marring his shirt. His face was an even brighter shade of red than when he was blushing. He was desperately trying to collect himself, even as he closed the door behind him, the action made difficult by the water gun in his hand. "T-Thompson... reporting for d-duty... ya'll."

Dipper closed the notebook and stood up. "Dude, aren't you supposed to be sick?"

"He certainly looks sick," Candy commented.

"I'm sick," Thompson confirmed, stumbling over to lean on the counter. "But I- but I couldn't leave my friends hangin'."

"Aw, Thompson." Mabel affectionately patted his side. "You're the best."

He stuck a thumb up. "I might need to go to the hospital after this. Just- justa warning."

"Oh, trust me," Pacifica said. "You won't be the only one."

"This is our war paint," Mabel said soulfully as she painted Pacifica's nails black. "Only it's better, 'cause it's sparkly."

"Oh, dear," Dipper said, nose in his notebook again. "Did you break out the starry night nail polish again?"

"You bet I did, bro-bro. Gimme a hand."

He did so, using his knees to keep the book up. Grenda leaned over to whisper in Pacifica's general direction. "It's how he handles his anxiety."

"I didn't think Dipper even had a vague grasp on his anxiety," Pacifica replied. "Good on ya', dork."

The van hit a bump, and Thompson lurched, supported by Lee and Nate. He put a hand to his mouth to avoid puking all over the carpet on the floor of the van. Robbie hit the back of the front seats, which were the only ones up and in use. "Can't you drive any better, Wendy? You're gonna put him in an early grave!"

Wendy jerked the wheel. "Technically, I can't drive at all, so..."

"Right, right. We're damn lucky the police are terrible around here."

"Is having a gun in the front seat even legal?" Lee questioned dubiously. "Because we have multiples up there, and the shotgun is kinda obvious."

"I dunno, but probably not."

Dipper switched hands, examining the newly painted one. "I think you need a permit."

Wendy grunted to show she'd heard. "If I get arrested for this, one of you better break me out."

"I'll do it," Thompson offered weakly.

"Wow, Tom." Tambry playfully fanned her face. "If I weren't a taken lady, all this chivalry might be enough to make my knees jelly."

"I've already got fanfics planned." Mabel finished the last thumb. "Okay, Wendy, your turn."

"Kinda busy, Mabel."

"Robbie, take over for her."

"What?" He looked surprised. "Dude, I can't drive."

"Technically, none of us can," Dipper offered. "Except Thompson, and he's too sick."

Wendy veered off to the side of the road so Robbie could take her place. Pacifica peeked her head over the seats, but all she could make out was a single dirt road with trees. When the lumberjack opened the back doors, it was the exact same, only sloping downwards.

"Holy fuck," she said without thinking. "You people are driving us to death."

"I thought we established this yesterday," Wendy answered wryly, closing the door. "Alright, Rob, just keep on going."

"There's literally nowhere else to go, so..."

The van gave a mighty jerk, then began moseying on once again. The silence turned brittle as Mabel began the last bit of nail polish.

"So, like, do you guys do this all the time?" Pacifica asked finally, moving her foot to get better circulation.

"Go out in the woods and beat up supernatural creatures?" Grenda shrugged. "More often than you might think."

"Okay. I was talking about the nail polish, but okay."

"It's how I focus my attention away from my crippling anxiety," Mabel chimed in without looking up.

Pacifica studied her hands. "Black isn't really my color, but it's a nice shade."

"I respectfully disagree, Pazzy."

"Call me Pazzy again and I'll knock your teeth out."

"Ooooh..." Lee bent forward eagerly. "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

"Kids, don't make me turn this hunk of junk around," Robbie warned. "Because I really dunno if it could survive the trip."

"Aw, man."

"Don't worry, Thompson. We'll all pitch in for a tow."

"We will?"

"Shut up and drive, Robert."

Pacifica wasn't entirely sure how she managed to doze off, but she did, jolting awake when Robbie hit the brakes. Some of the starry night nail polish had smeared onto her pants, especially from her right index finger, but the coat had held up pretty well.

"Well, ya'll." Robbie propped his arm on the back of the front seat. "We outta road."

Grenda hefted her bat onto her shoulder. "Let's go give that dirtbag a coupla love taps."

Wendy handed out the guns. She kept the sawed-off for herself, giving Robbie and Tambry each a handgun. Lee and Nate had both insisted on bringing boxing gloves from home. Thompson was woefully unprepared, from his illness to his water-based weapon, and she instructed him to keep to the back, a job he gratefully accepted.

"Hey." Tambry nudged Pacifica's shoulder. "Where's your Southern boyfriend?"

"I have no idea." She grit her teeth to avoid having them chatter. It had dropped several degrees since the van had been opened last. "If Gideon bailed on us, I'll kill him."

"He sent me a text earlier," Mabel offered, testing the grip on her grappling hook. "He mentioned something about summoning creatures from the pits of hell. I guess that kind of thing takes time?"

Candy did a couple of practice punches. "He's going to miss out on all the fun."

"That's what he gets for not bringing a gun like a normal person." Wendy cocked her's. "Alright, let's move slow. We dunno what all is out here."

"I thought the place was snowy?"

"It's deeper in." The lumberjack snapped a branch off to get through easier. "This is the back way in. My Dad always said that if we ever had to go in here, this was the way to do it."

"Why did your Dad give you advice on how to get into a place he didn't want you going into?"

"Because he likes keeping us prepared. Or did you forget about the apocalypse training courses already?"

"Kinda, yeah." Robbie shrugged sheepishly.

"Wendy?"

"Yeah, Dipper?"

"Your Dad is hardcore."

"Thanks."

Tennis shoes and boots alike crunched the frosty ground as they drove deeper and deeper into the foliage, rarely speaking. Snow began to fall lightly, then thicker as the day went on. The brass knuckles froze Pacifica's hands too much for her to keep wearing them, slipping them into her pockets.

Wendy held a hand up for silence- despite not needing it- before creeping forward a bit, breath billowing. She hesitantly nodded the okay. The group of peers huddled at the edge of a somewhat steep hill, leading down to a large field covered in swathes of bright white snow. No flakes seemed to fall there, despite their clothes getting steadily more soaked as they watched on. Near the edge, towards the far right scattering of trees, a large deer was bent down to gnaw at a rabbit's fur. Its rack looked as large as the van, and each twist was thicker than any of their arms.

"Awww..." Lee whispered. "It's cleaning the bunny's fur."

Wendy aimed her shotgun grimly. "No, it's not. It's eating it."

"Deer do that?"

"If they're hungry enough, yeah." She kept a steady hand, but her voice quivered a little bit. "Plug your ears."

Pacifica had never heard a gun before. Not in real life. Neither had the twins. The trio exchanged a quietly horrified look as the blast went off.

The following happened quicker than any of their eyes could follow. The bullet cut through the air like it was nothing, eating up the distance like breakfast as it neared the deer. The deer lifted its head, staring at the deadly weapon as it came ever closer. Its eyes glowed. The bullet fell to the snow, covered in ice. Wendy let out a quiet, "hot Belgium waffles."

"Wendy," Robbie said, just as quietly. "Now is exactly the time to use adult swears."

"I have three younger brothers, dude," she hissed back, frantically reloading. "I'm more used to fake-swearing."

"Ew, gross." Nate said as he watched the rabbit slowly stand, missing a chunk of skin. The creature regrew it all in an instant, hopping off into the bushes without any concern. "I think I'm gonna hurl."

The deer turned fully to them, eyes glowing. It had no pupils. Only light. Its voice came without any movement of the lips, as if buried somewhere deep in their minds. "I KNOW YOU ARE HERE."

It stamped a hoof, and the slope melted away, sending them rolling. They all sprawled out on top of each other, grunting and groaning, as trees sprouted around them, hindering their escape. The deer didn't run. It strolled over with purpose, head high.

"I AM ASMUND," it said. "AND YOU ARE TRESPASSERS."

"Hey, man," Robbie replied. "At least we aren't eating bunny rabbits."

Asmund turned its head slightly to look at him, and the teenager cowered. "I FEAST UPON CREATURES FOR SUSTENANCE, YES, BUT THEY FEEL NO PAIN. THEY ARE SAFE HERE. ALL ARE SAFE HERE. TRESPASSERS ARE NOT SAFE HERE."

"Remind me to put hypocritical on Asmund's bio page," Dipper said to Pacifica.

"Your elbow is crammed in my back," Pacifica said to Dipper.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Mabel waved her hands to gain Asmund's attention. "Heya, weird deer vamp thingy! Uh, listen. We're not here to hurt anybody. Y'see, there was this were-possum, and he bit me-"

"I'M AWARE." Asmund nosed her shoulder. "I SMELL IT ON YOU, HUMAN CHILD."

"That's... that's a little freaky." Mabel awkwardly shuffled backwards. "A-Anyway, we kinda need his venom to turn me back to normal, so..."

The deer flicked its ear. "YOU HAVE BROUGHT WEAPONS WITH YOU. YOUR INTENTIONS ARE NOT KIND."

"Of course not!" Grenda yelled. "He hurt our friend!"

"THEN YOU SHOULD UNDERSTAND..." Asmund lowered its head, stamping a hoof in the dirt. "WHY I WON'T ALLOW YOU TO HURT MY FRIENDS."

A loud roar jolted them all to reality. There was a word of a language they didn't understand, and then a creature of flames was on Asmund's back, digging teeth into its shoulder. The creature gave a mighty buck, but it refused to be moved.

"Ha ha!" Gideon laughed, standing triumphant at the crest of the hill far above them. He waved down at them. "Howdy, ya'll! Sorry fer the delay. You have no idea how hard it is to find a proper sacrifice for a god of fire."

"THERE ARE NO GODS HERE!" Asmund roared, and the creature gave a stiff jerk and fell, landing in the snow with a dull thud, frozen from the inside out. The deer took in a deep breath and lifted its head, bright eyes burning like fire. Ice crackled as it covered the wound to its shoulder. "THERE IS ONLY THE ICE, AND THERE IS ONLY US."

Gideon gave a mighty gulp. "I've made a terrible mistake."

"YOUR INTENTIONS HAVE BEEN MADE CLEAR." the deer opened its mouth, showing off an impressive set of sharp teeth. "PREPARE TO DIE."

"Scatter!" Robbie shrieked, and they all ran. Pacifica and Dipper rolled into some bushes. Tambry grabbed her boyfriend's hoodie sleeve and ran further down the path, out of sight. Wendy took to the trees, climbing them with ease. No one was entirely certain where Thompson had gone.

"NO MATTER." it approached the hill and touched it with the tip of its large horns, erasing it from existence. Gideon came tumbling down from a height greater than they had prior, screaming all the way. "YOU SHALL BE THE FIRST BLOOD."

"Now, now," Gideon said, scrambling to the back of the snow bank, sounding oddly like his father. "I'm an important person, I'll have you know! I can do things for you that'll blow your mind! You- you really don't wanna miss out on this opportunity!"

"I HAVE ALL I NEED." Asmund opened its mouth wide. "FAREWELL, TRESPASSER."

Another loud bang rang out, and a bullet zinged by, lodging in the ice on Asmund's shoulder. The deer gave a loud yell, shaking its head with anger. The spot where Gideon once sat lay empty. It let out a low snort and turned towards the gunshot, hoofing it off into the distance.

"Holy shit," Gideon whispered from the comforts of their bush, clutching his chest. "I almost died."

"We're not nearly out of danger yet." Dipper peeked out into the empty field. "Does anyone have any ideas on what its weakness might be?"

"Us?" Pacifica demanded. "You're the journal man!"

"I'm only human, Pazzy." Dipper threw up his hands. "How am I s'possed to guess the weakness of an ice deer that can't be harmed by gods or bullets? It's, like, the ultimate OC!"

"It don't like fire," Gideon said quietly. "The fire god managed to hurt it. Y'know. 'Fore it died."

He cupped his chin. "Asmund said there were no gods here."

"A lighter isn't a god," she offered. "Does anyone have one of those? Or spark rocks? I'm willing to be flexible, people."

"Tambry might. She's a smoker."

"I've literally never seen Tambry smoke in my life, Dipper."

"She's not exactly loud and proud about it. But I have seen her do it more than once." The pre-teen poked his head out, still finding the coast clear. "If anyone has one, it's her."

"We could jus' stay here," Gideon said, holding a hand up. "We might die last, if we're careful."

"I'd rather not die at all, thanks." Pacifica shoved his shoulder. "Let's get going."

There wasn't any way of sneaking after Asmund. That was, to say, that the forest seemed constantly shifting and moving now, as if sensing the beast's agitation. They kept down the path, side-by-side, refusing to admit that they were scared. Pacifica had her brass knuckles out now, despite it being more frigid than ever. They crested a corner in time to see Grenda smacking Asmund with a bat while Candy punched its wounded shoulder. Asmund plucked the bat out of her grip and bit it in half with a growl.

Lee and Nate were pushed out of the trees, the former swinging some rope like a lasso, grabbing the tip of Asmund's right horn. The creature gave a mighty jerk, but it was pretty heavy-duty stuff, originally planned to be for sealing Evil Jerkface's mouth shut.

"FOOLS," it hissed. "YOU'VE BROUGHT YOURSELVES TO ME."

Asmund knocked Candy and Grenda aside with one sweep of its horns, then twisted towards Lee and Nate, who both turned vaguely green. A bullet glanced off its cheek as Wendy and Tambry finally reappeared, aiming and firing as best they could.

"Tambry!" Dipper called, unwisely bringing attention to himself. "Do you have a lighter?"

Asmund's head jerked toward him, eyes narrowing. It knew he knew. "YOU WILL DIE FIRST, HUMAN CHILD."

"Uh-oh," Dipper said, trying to back away. Trees cornered him on all sides. "Crap. Wait, no. I refuse to go out using kid curses. Shit. Damn. Fuck."

The deer lunged.

A larger weight came falling out of the trees with a war cry, landing solidly on Asmund's hurt shoulder and gripping its horns for leverage. That weight would be Thompson, snot dribbling down the edge of his cheek, clinging like it was a bull at the county fair. "L-Lay off, man!"

"I TIRE OF THIS," Asmund grunted, throwing him aside. It turned its head, possibly to freeze him solid, but stopped and scanned him instead. "THAT HUMAN CHILD IS SICK"

"No shit, Sherlock," Robbie panted, coming up behind Tambry and Wendy.

Asmund approached with a surprising amount of care. "WHAT BRINGS YOU TO MY DOMAIN ILL, CHILD?"

Thompson showed a remarkable fortitude in his refusal to get up off his back. Or perhaps he just couldn't stand. He thrusted a hand in the air. "We're gonna help Mabel get better!"

It thought about that a moment. "YOU'VE COME HERE SICKLY AND UNARMED, FOR A FRIEND?"

He pouted a little. "I have a water gun."

"SUCH CAMARADERIE MUST BE REWARDED. IT IS IN MY CODE." Asmund turned away, bounding off into the forest. "A MOMENT."

They all sat in silence, in various shades of dishevelment. Wendy had a gash on her arm. Robbie's flimsy jeans had torn like paper. Grenda and Candy had taken multiple bruises to their sides from the flinging, while the rest had minute scratches.

"Y'know..." Mabel drawled finally. "Today went in a completely different direction that I'd originally anticipated."

Asmund returned with Evil Jerkface's tail in its teeth, dropping him at Thompson's feet to be wrangled. It dipped its head, making a pathway appear behind them.

"TAKE IT," it said. "AND NEVER RETURN."

"I'm just saying," Robbie was saying, halfheartedly punching the side of their van. "Normal people don't have these problems, ya'll. Normal people don't fight ice gods who eat bunnies. They don't even, like, consider making the words to that kind of sentence."

"Are you driving, or am I?" Wendy asked, sounding absolutely exhausted.

"With that arm? Get in the back."

No one questioned the second road that had popped up at some point, leading them on a gradual incline back to civilization- and hopefully food. No one had the energy to. They each took off their particular weapon of choice, piling the guns on the front seat once again. Grenda fell asleep almost immediately, snoring louder than the radio could ever hope to drown out. Candy played with her hair.

"Well, I guess who we know who the real V.I.P. is here." Lee ruffled Thompson's hair. "Dude, you were awesome today."

"I'm still not entirely sure why Asmund was willing to give up Evil Jerkface," Mabel added, giving him a squeeze. "But you were a narrative godsend."

Dipper tapped his pen to his cheek. "I think it had something to do with how Asmund protects creatures who need its help? And Thompson was so beat up from everything it just kinda... realized it needed to help him more than it needed another meal?"

"I think I intimidated it," Thompson replied, breaking off into a coughing fit.

"Heck yeah you did." Wendy shook her good hand in an effort to pump them up. "Thompson! Thompson!"

They all joined in. "Thompson! Thompson!"

"Aw, you guys," he said, but he was smiling.

Lazy Susan took one look at the bedraggled group and gave them waffles for free, patting Pacifica on the head as she went by.

"Aw, crap," she hummed, plunking her head down on the table. "I had work today."

"You always have work, dude."

"I know. Y'wanna know the sad thing?" She chuckled bitterly. "I honestly can't remember what I'm fired from."

"I'm writing Asmund's page," Dipper told them, edging the notebook away from Mabel's syrup-filled plate. Asmund, it read. Being of possibly infinite power. Doesn't like fire. Eats meat, but refuses to harm creatures that can't defend themselves. Seems able to keep a healing force field around the area its in; or, at least, heal the prey it feasts upon. Unknown if connected to Bill or Weirdmageddon. "You wanna add to it?"

Wendy grabbed the pen, drawing an arrow off its name. Too dramatic. Can and will draw out your death.

Can freeze gods, Gideon added on. Probably humans, too. He drew an arrow to Wendy's statement.

Packs a punch, Lee put.

Needs therapy, wrote Nate.

Asshole. Robbie ground the pen in so much the word was bold.

Nightmare eyes. Pacifica didn't even bother with cursive, passing it off to Mabel with a shrug.

Power is probably in its horns tbh, she scrawled on the bottom. May or may not gain power off feeding from little creatures. All around terrible deer vamp.

"I never even thought of that," Dipper mused. "Interesting hypothesis, Lady Mabes."

"Can we eat now?" Tambry demanded. "I can't send out updates if I'm too hungry to see straight."

The townhouse was eerily silent when Pacifica pushed open the door, key hanging in the lock. It was almost like a morgue. But, frankly? Pacifica was too tired for it. She took her key out, shut the door, and headed to bed, only to stop in the hallway. Priscilla was bent over the small table they'd eaten dinner at last, head in her hands. "Mom?"

The woman jumped. "Pacifica?" Priscilla sprinted over in old high heels, taking her into her arms. "Oh, thank god. I thought you'd run away from home!"

"Sorry," she said, though she didn't really feel sorry. "I was helping some friends out."

She squeezed her arms. "Call me next time."

"Yes, ma'am." Pacifica's eyes darted around, waiting for another voice to join the fray. It didn't. "Um, where's Dad?"

Her face fell. "Take a seat, honey."

Pacifica swallowed (because, seriously, nobody who ever said that meant good things were coming) and slipped into a chair. Priscilla did the same, taking hold of her hands. She tapped her bracelets lightly on the surface, as if conjuring dinners past.

"Preston..." She swallowed. "He's not coming back, Pacifica."

Her stomach sank. "Did he, like, die or something?"

Priscilla shook her head. "We kept waiting for you to come home. Preston- he thought you were just rebelling. And then we thought you'd left forever, and... it was the last straw."

"I'm back now," Pacifica offered quietly.

"I'm glad you are," she answered firmly. "But he's not. And he won't be."

"Oh." The blonde took in a deep breath, trying to calm her rushing mind. She couldn't think straight. Nothing made sense anymore. "...What do we do now?"

"I've had offers." She paused. "From other men. Rich men."

"You're gonna re-marry?"

"I can't live like this, Pazzy." Priscilla brushed her bangs away to look her in the eye, and that was why Pacifica didn't like Pazzy. Only her mother ever used it. Only at times like this. "You're practically carrying us, now, and you're just in high school. I'll... I'll marry better this time, Pazzy. Someone nicer."

Pacifica squeezed her hands. There were a multitude of better options to this, but she never could deter her when she'd made up her mind. "I want to keep my jobs."

"They're killing you, Pazzy."

"Not all of them. Some of them. I just- I need an outlet." The money is a plus, too.

Priscilla leaned over to kiss her forehead. "Alright, kiddo. If you really need to."

That night, Pacifica slept in her parent's bed for the first time in years, though she didn't sleep so much as she lay stiffly on the edge, wondering where her father was now. What he was doing. If he'd gone so far as to leave like this, he probably didn't want her using the Northwest name.

Too bad. It wasn't just his. Not anymore.

"This feels like a peculiar end to an already peculiar situation."

"Dipper," Mabel said sternly, as if she were about to receive an award instead of a shot. "Don't ruin this for me."

"Sorry."

Ford chuckled, tapping the syringe. "I've found that the only ending that isn't peculiar is death. That just sucks."

"Grunkle Ford, I know you're trying to help, but that was the exact opposite of help."

"Take it from me, kid," Stan said, patting his chest. "Just go with it. It'll make sense one day."

"Really?"

"No. I'm trying to make you feel better."

"Oh. Well, thanks."

"Anytime."

A knock to the door heralded Pacifica, who leaned on the frame with an odd look in her eye. She wore a purple hoodie covered in sparkles and shorts. She watched as Ford gently pulled the needle out. "So, you're no longer an angry creature of the night, then?"

"Yup!" Mabel pulled her sweater down with a wide smile. "I feel like a pin cushion!"

"So," Dipper broached the topic by awkwardly pulling at his shirt collar. "How, uh, how did your folks take it?"

Pacifica shrugged, eyes darting to the floor. "I think my Dad hates me, but I didn't expect anything less. You guys wanna go for a swim in the lake? That's something people do, right?"

"Only if we can get Hermanos Brothers on the way." Mabel hopped off the counter- which, in hindsight, probably wasn't a good place to get a shot. "I've been craving it like bananas ever since Dip-Dop shoved some in my possum-y maw."

"I have no moral objection to badly made burritos."

They walked out the shack, arm in arm, mostly because Mabel had demanded it, and Pacifica was in an obliging mood. Somehow, this felt more rebellious than going out in the woods and wailing on an ice god, and she found she preferred it.

Author's Note: I wrote all of this in one day! I was in The ZoneTM. So, I wanna get into the habit of, like, talking about the original stuff for these stories, so if anyone was interested they could read about it, so here we go!

Were-Mabel was an idea I've had for a while. I don't even recall where the idea of a were-possum came from. I just like were-critters. Oddly enough, Asmund was also planned. I know it's an odd addition to this 'fic, but it's true. Preston up and leaving was actually completely unplanned, and popped into my head yesterday. Originally, he was just gone, and I think I was gonna imply he was out looking for a job or something, but running away seemed far more apt for his character.

Thompson? Was actually unplanned? Robbie talking about how he was sick in part one was mostly just an excuse as to why he wasn't hanging around during the reunion scene. Originally, Asmund was gonna see Mabel mid-transformation (it was gonna control the day and night cycle, but I thought that was probably a bit too OP) and realize Evil Jerkface wasn't worth the trouble. Also, it wasn't gonna be a deer-vamp, but I find that cooler than some random deity in the woods.

I do wish we could've had s'more Soos and Melody. Maybe next time. In its own right, this kinda feels like a story in the middle of other stories, and that's cool. Sometimes, it's best just to kinda go with it.

Until next time!

-Mandaree1