Dipper Mabel Pines Novels & Stories

Sherbourn. Even when Makayla was gearing up to take Stacey down, she was already setting up her next play. Four Pines wasn’t just another forest—it was sacred ground. Endangered species. Fragile ecosystems. And a thorn in the side of any developer with dollar signs in their eyes. Stacey had learned nothing. Or worse—she’d learned everything and was moving faster than anyone could keep up. GreenFlare: Can someone quietly send me everything you’ve got on Red Cedar and LSB? I need dates, properties, owners, and aliases.

They hopped and pranced in delight when they saw all the colorful flavors and sprinkles. I pulled out my phone and opened the camera to take a picture of the twins. From beyond the window, I caught sight of a woman in sunshades holding a professional camera. She was pointing it directly at us. “Hey, babies!” I hushed, “Let’s go sit in the car!” “But it’s so fun here!” Mabel said, “I like my pink cushion!” She was sitting on a giant pink star-shaped seat. “Yeah!” said Miles, “It’s so nice!”

The sound echoed, a sharp reminder of the ticking clock that seemed to be drumming inside my skull. Mabel was seated by the arched window, the afternoon sun casting long, skeletal shadows across her face as she stared out toward the jagged peaks of the northern range. She didn't turn when I entered, her hands folded tightly in her lap, her knuckles white against the dark velvet of her gown.

The Harlow Inn sat at the end of a quarter-mile gravel drive that wound through old-growth Douglas fir, the trees tall enough to turn the afternoon light green and cathedral-dim even before the clouds had properly settled in. Eli drove it slowly, partly because the rental car's suspension was already complaining about the state of the road, and partly because the inn appeared in stages through the trees and each stage gave him something new to calculate.

Nyx stirred inside me, her presence a restless pulse beneath my skin, as if she could sense the approaching storm long before I could. I pulled on my jacket and slipped out of my small cabin, the cold morning air biting at my cheeks. The forest was eerily still, as though holding its breath. The tall pines stretched overhead, their needles shimmering faintly in the early light, casting long, wavering shadows across the mossy floor. The camp was quiet, save for a few early risers preparing for the day. Mara sat on a fallen log, sharpening her claws on a stone with slow, deliberate strokes. Her usually fierce gaze was softened by worry, her brow furrowed as she looked up when I approached.

I muttered. It was a thread. A thin, frayed one—but I’d take it. I had had enough. Back in the car, I pulled out my laptop and started digging. Ran the name through every registry I could get my hands on. Searched through database after database until my eyes burned. Connecticut’s a small state, but you'd be surprised how many Mabels live in it. I found twelve. Twelve damn Mabels. I visited every single one.

Zane’s POV "We should visit your parents more often." River water still clung to her hair. I felt the cool strands against my neck as I carried her up the trail. The falls roared behind us. My boots sank into soft earth where our bodies had pressed the grass flat. Two pairs of shoes still sat on the cliff. I did not go back for them. "I want to bring flowers," Mabel said. She tucked closer in my arms. "And thank them. That place helps me think. I see things clear there."

She concentrated on the work in front of her. While she was working, someone knocked on her office door. “Come in.” A timid-looking young lady came in. Lucy knew who she was. Her name was Mabel Pines. Matthew recently recruited her as an intern from a prestigious university. Many people called her Maple because it rhymed with her name. She was a quiet lady and a meticulous worker. She was just a bit shy. After noticing how shy she was, Lucy softened her tone. “Maple, how can I help you?”

I dazedly opened my phone. In a ten-second reel, Corbin was carrying Mabel while doing squats. In the sweltering summer heat, he wore a sleeveless tank top, and she wore a miniskirt. With every moment their skin touched, I felt sicker, though I was just watching it through a screen. Without saying a word, I double-tapped the reel and continued eating my lunch. Mabel clicked her tongue and said, “Aren’t you mad?” I looked at her, somewhat confused.

I said sourly and Harkin nodded and told me he's seen him there numerous times. "His wife probably wishes for death. I've heard rumors that Frank admired Alpha Cooper's hunting lodges," Harkin winced and I closed my eyes as I thought about Violet being raised there in his pack. I turned when Mabel came into the kitchen and grabbed a glass of water and began making a sandwich. "What are you doing, old woman?" I asked Mabel as I watched her grab chips and scatter them next to the sandwich she had just prepared. She glared at me and shook her head.