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unearthlyfromage · 8 months

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First Chapter of the Evil Stan fic is out now!

"The Costs of Our Hubris Chapter 1: Eyes and Sockets" is out on my AO3!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/49386823/chapters/124630234 Original AU made by @ahkaraii here on Tumblr! Shoutout to @koraesdoodles for being my wonderful beta-reader and dealing with my dyslexic ass abashdanshaha The chapter below the cut for anyone that wants to stay here on Tumblr:

Thousands of clashing colors swirling far above, a symphony of bellows swirling in coils worming its way through mind, body and soul. It thrummed in his ribs and escaped through his marred and mangled mouth in droning snores. His body sprawled out and writhed into a lifeless form, shaded by the pale and dusted rocks basked in the blooming presence of a God so sweet. Stanley Pines was sleeping. A horrible noise echoed in the winds around him, blowing and shifting in random directions, the skyline highlighted in natural disasters of all forms. Beautiful, colorful chaos. Home. The serene scene was broken by the pounding of fists, the shrieking of demons and cackling of others. One eye opened wide, and he woke up swinging. Hands outstretched to blackened rose thorns, body acting before mind as he tackled and raised a hand to the one in front of him, a wry and wild look in his gnarled, scared face. The cackles around him were all consuming, some egging him on, others telling him to knock it off, all while the one underneath merely stared.

It wasn’t until Stan broke out into laughter of his own that the scene unwound. He sat back on his haunch to snort and giggle, arms wrapped tight and sharpened finger tips digging into his sides. “Nice nap, Fishie?” Teeth chattered, stumpy flesh-pink arms prodding and poking at him. The others chided in, all poking and pulling but he didn’t seem to mind, laughter dying slow as he started to reciprocate.

“Always!” he growled, grabbing Pyronica by the horn and 8-Ball in a chokehold, the rest jeering as the two struggled. The largest of them shoved the three forward, the large purple loaf gesturing forward, his party hat shifting with every movement. Huffing, Stan let go of them, staring up at the sky. “Why’d ya wake me?” he asked, walking with them, gait sluggish but his one eye wide and alert as the other stayed hidden behind bandages as he wasn’t blessed enough to show it yet, there was no need too. No one to intimidate.

“Boss wanted to see you, Fishie” Keyhole slapped him hard on the back, earning a wry grin.

“Time t’ head out already?” Stan asked. If he were honest, he would be upset. He hated leaving. He loved returning, sitting with them all jeering, sharing stories of destruction and chaos, impromptu sparring matches devolving into rolling on the floor biting and mauling each other like rabid dogs on an abandoned island.

Camaraderie in the finer things, cheating in cards and lying about it. The only positive notion of leaving being all of them leaping off this dying realm to claim planets in their illustrious ruler's name. He placed a hand on the three-sided sigil woven into the fibers of his garb upon which he was blessed, a silent prayer at the edges of his mind that a chorus of voices accompanied, a choir of twisted wants and dreams of which he prayed to see, lest his final moments be in the endless sea of bodies.

They were talking to him this entire time, of course. But he was not focused on them now. No, instead his eye was toward the sky, the beautiful swirling colors bleeding out into their distinct streaks from the swirling point, the very center, a throne of bones and black ichor that squirmed and writhed in the same waving dance as the blood in his veins.

It was always such a treat, to stare up at everything you lived for. Sinking to his knees, he awaited to hear that shrill, echoing voice, the impending doom resting its gargantuan weight on his shoulders and pressing him towards the dry and crumbling ground as if he were nothing more than a measly tic on the body of a beautiful blood soaked dove. “GOOD JOB WAKING THE FISH BOWL,” a bright yellow light far above said, the golden glow of their God. All sound simmering to low murmurs as all rose to stand up straight, eyes of all kinds staring up in awe and utter devotion as he arose from his place on the throne and sunk down to rest just above them all. Bill stared at them all, a wide slit pupil gracing them with his presence. The clouds swirling above him, a halo bathed in the red hues of liquid vindication, the destruction of an innumerable amount hanging above him like trophies. “FISHIE FISHIE FISHIE WHAT HAVE YOU BEEN UP TO?” He swirled around them all like a cluster of vultures, snapping and snarling and starving, eye unrelenting and piercing into their very beings. The weight of power over his head was crushing, Stan's head lowering to a bow of respect and adoration as he spoke firmly. “Training for th’ day you release me again, Boss.” He kept his voice low, tone testy and stricken in fear-born respect. Forged in years of dismemberment and hard lessons taught through bloody knuckles and broken bones. “LETS MAKE GOOD ON THAT. YOU SEE FISHIE, THAT PLAGUE NEVER STOPS! THEY FLOOD MY WORLD BY THE MILLIONS EVERY SECOND, THEY GROUP LIKE PESTS! WILL YOU TAKE CARE OF THEM FOR ME?”

A frigid three fingered hand pressed against the top of Stan’s head, and the man's eye narrowed. All they were doing was causing more harm. Boiling hatred in his chest that made his face hot and arms numb. The swirling of voices caught and caged between his ears howling and begging him to tear them apart. Rip limb from limb, eyes from sockets, drag them here to be judged for their crimes and made to bow in front of his God, the being who so graciously saved him. Gritting gnarled teeth, his entire body shivered in disgust. “Always.” It was definitive, a rage unquenching, curdled like milk boiling in the hot sun.

“I DON’T WANT TO SEE HIDE OR HAIR OF YOU UNTIL YOU BRING ME THEIR SIX DIGIT HANDS, FISHIE. WE DON’T WANT CONSEQUENCES OF INSUBORDINATION, DO WE?” Bill was leaning against him now, thin arm wrapped around him like the embrace of an old friend. “Never.” He would not waver. He would not be sidetracked, nor blind-sided, he was better. He was stronger. They were weak, they were going to hurt thousands if he didn’t do it. “WHAT ARE YOU?” “I am a weapon.”

The others, his family, colorful and chaotic all grinning at him like he had done a great service. Pride swelled in his chest upon seeing their gazes locked solely on him. This was home. He was going to miss it, he always did. How long would it be until he began to beg to come back? To the soot ridden wasteland, rolling around in dirt and salt as he scratched their backs so they could scratch his. He would make them proud.

“THAT’S JUST WHAT I WANTED TO HEAR, FISHIE!” Bill swirled the glass in his hand, cane hooked on his neck. “NOW GO MAKE ME PROUD, OR DO I STILL HAVE WORK TO DO ON YOU?” His voice deepened, darkened, a threat laced in layers upon layers, the rumbling sound of a deity testing the will of his creation. “I will make you proud, Boss.” He gripped the sigil once more, an act of comfort, of guidance. He knew the way, so long as he let the Eye engraved into his being show him where to move.

“THEN WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR? GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!” His God howled and giggled like a child, the sound shrill yet melodic, as Stan took off running.

Boots scraping against dry pale ground, fissures cracking and breaking apart like spider veins on an ancient being spanning as far as the eye could see. The only distraction in the endless sky of vibrant colors being the floating, suspended shrapnel of worlds long since lost to time, torn asunder and consumed to feed their dying prison, their dying world, their home.

He wished to be the lucky one who gets to see their world change, to stand there and stare in delight as Bill carved an Earth of their own making, a party that never ended, a victory among millions shared in the red rivers of blood from all those who doubted and disobeyed, a thick desire in his disjointed heartbeat to see what was prophesied, be the lucky fish in the endless sea to gaze upon a future carved in their Gods image, to see him spread the lovely ichor of chaos and disjointed agony into every crack and crevice of existence itself.

His destination was nearing, the drop off into the infinite void ever nearing, his hands reaching down to grip the edges as he slowed to look down, down into it. The black spiraling mass of destruction ripping and tearing at the chunk of world he put his every stake in. The thing that suspended them, kept them alive, its dying drones and grumblings heard in the white noise whispering into his eardrums, a thousand tongues he couldn’t understand murmuring promise and threat into his soul a sensation that made him writhe.

Eye open wide, he awaited his chance. The blipping, pulsing echo of unbirth ripping apart to give wrought to a colorful light of another world; one to begin his hunt that he may not return from for years to come. The thought of jumping sparked fear in him, a force that ground its heel in his spine and forced cackling from his lips, a sound wheezing and uncontrollable as he sucked in air like it would be his last. Feet digging into the ground as chunks bore from the dirt and fell infinitely into nothingness.

With a satisfied sigh at the painful thrum of life, he vaulted himself off the edge, wind blowing against him as a warning, strands of air holding his arms up and legs back, the screams of a lover trying desperately to hold its partner back from the indefinite emptiness.

Closing his eye, he relished this, enveloped himself in the warmth of a free-standing exit. He hit the ground hard as he sucked in the damp air of a new world surrounding him.

He did not know where he was, but he knew he had a purpose. He scrambled to his feet then dug his claws into the nearest wall to begin scaling it, its structure porous and alive. Thick strands stuck to him with every pull of his hands. It was soft, spongey. Mushroom, perhaps, he voiced to himself asking for agreeance in the disembodied horrors of his fragmented inner narration.

They seemed to agree.

Standing up tall, he stared down at the world below him. Thousands of people, creatures of all kinds, shambling to and fro. None looked like him. None were to be judged for crimes, lest Bill himself arrive to take the land by siege.

Growling lowly, he had a feeling this hunt would take longer than normal. He found them all quite fast, usually. Yet here he could not see a single one. Scaling back down, he clung to shadows as he made his way through this new planet. He’ll find one soon enough.

He was sure of it.

#revised evil stan au #my user on ao3 is unearthlyfromage #unearthlywritings #“The Costs of Our Hubris”#gravity falls au #Stan Pines #Ford Pines #Evil Stan AU

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bluefrostyy · 2 years

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more of this au!

into the mind of evil ford we gooo

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samthecookielord · 1 year

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Doodles

#cookie lords art #ocs #2 bards 1 evil wizard #carimus flores #daria flores #alegreya ford #flores family roadtrip au

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ckret2 · 3 months

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please more evil ford please i stare with my puppy eyes for this i am obbsessed

Yeah all right, I've been working on some art. (For context, we're talking about this Evil Ford.)

Evil Ford is Evil as in "cheerfully works with Bill even after learning his full plot" and "is totally ready to conquer and/or destroy the world." But other than the shocking lack of basic ethics and the supervillain objective he's mostly the same guy—which means he still cares about his family. He's hoping to get them to join in on the world conquest plan.

Forty-odd years ago he went off to college promising someday he'd be a big shot scientist who changes the world and he'd make his family a fortune. If taking over reality doesn't qualify he doesn't know what does. The family can join him and his buddy Bill and rule the universe together. Pines Pines Pines Pines!

Unfortunately for him, the rest of the family still has normal moral compasses. And also they've met Bill.

Bill can't currently possess Ford due to Reasons; but even though he can't get in the driver's seat he still has permission to ride shotgun at any time. Ford talks to him pretty regularly. He HAS been caught doing this. Stan thinks he's just gone a little nutty from thirty years of isolation.

Naturally, since he was always on Bill's side, Ford's perception of events during Weirdmageddon is a bit different:

I finally made an official Evil Ford New Costume Character Design, check out his exciting totally different brand new look:

I decided that, since Ford is still basically the same person aside from his terrible life goals, he'd probably have the same fashion sense. And so... nothing changes except two tiny details lmao.

But he DOES have tattoos:

I traced a canon character model and took off its top to get a base to slap tattoos on, and then went dang... they gave him a big head and arms. He looks goofy. Anyway,

His forearms have less incriminating tattoos—just a birch tree and a sunrise. (The sunrise looks like the Journal 3 "The Muse Has Spoken" page.) The red text is the "triangulum entangulum" ritual; if anyone asks he'll go "it's uhh an ancient Sumerian poem about how great science is." It's not until he's topless that it's like "oh so he's a CULTIST cultist." The one exception is an unconcealed Eye of Providence on his right palm—but it's in an ink that's only visible in certain lighting. It's there so at any time he can point his hand at something and go "Bill are you seeing this BS?"

Of course, he still has the "hey now, you're an all star" neck tattoo. I didn't have room to draw it.

As you can see, he's made being Bill's right hand man a core part of his personality. Rather than spending 30 years scrabbling around the multiverse desperately searching for a way to destroy Bill, he spent 30 years chilling in the Quadrangle of Qonfusion as Bill's specialest favoritest Henchmaniac, and only scrabbling around the multiverse occasionally for fun & profit.

Here's a photo Bill & Ford took at a Nightmare Realm house party like fifteen years ago, three minutes before Bill started an argument and set the house on fire.

Most people have their wild party years in college, Ford has his in his 40s.

#stanford pines #grunkle ford #bill cipher #(he's in enough pictures; he's worth tagging too)#gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #evil ford au #my art

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tacobellabeanburrito · 2 years

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Man, alternate universes are so cool but make me so sad!! i once read a gravity falls fic where a younger portal ford runs into a portal Stan and Stan basically says that most Stan’s aren’t supposed to get home, they can’t go home because they know ford would never open up the portal for them because it would be too dangerous, but then Ford was like “I’m going to destroy Bill Cipher, and I’ll make sure it’s known all throughout the galaxy, and once I do, your Ford will bring you home” and it’s just so sweet but so sad because there’s so many possibilities of Stan and Ford’s not coming home because there are infinite alternate universes of every story, so it’s just so sad to think about.

#gravity falls #ford definately makes sure it gets known all over the galaxy that stan defeated bill #and he makes sure of it so that other ford's can bring their stanley's home #stanford pines #stanley pines #stan pines #ford pines #bill cipher #alternate universes #its so sad to think about an au where neither stan nor ford care about each other #or where ones evil #its so sad

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eeveelotions · 2 years

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@mother-ofthe-universe and I went ham in traumatizing Stanley Pines again

#gravity falls #stan pines #bill cipher #ford pines #dark ford pines #evil ford pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #journal 2 #journal 2 au #gravity falls au #gravity falls fanfiction #will writes

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dejabooooo · 3 months

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The Anti-Pines family is utterly fascinating. We have the blueprint for an entire pseudo canon AU, and remarkably I have seen little input from the fandom in regards to it. I can’t imagine why because there is SO MUCH TO WORK WITH HERE.

Anti-Waddles being as nefarious as Anti-Mabel. “The first pig to ever go to jail for armed robbery.” Like 😭😭 imagine waddles standing upright and holding a tommy gun. Imagine no one in the bank their holding up taking them seriously because they’re an adorable little girl and a chubby pig, and mabel threatening to put a bullet between someone’s eyes like “u better cough up the bacon before this bacon smokes u.” I wanna see what other heinous atrocities the cutest crime duo in the multiverse get up to.

ANTI-SOOS BEING A FORBES BILLIONAIRE HOW AND WHY DID THIS HAPPEN

You’d think if Anti-Ford represents the opposite of Ford that you’d wind up with someone who is exceptionally normal and uninteresting but NOPE. Anti-Ford is easily the weirdest here. FUCKING??? YOUTUBER??? DJ?? A sixty-something year old man with 200 subscribers who posts about his dubstep set lists daily. Utterly baffling.

Anti-Stan and Anti-Dipper are the most understandable in terms of being complete opposites of their counterparts, but all of this makes me wonder how differently their stories would play out because of this. Anti-Mabel was “chased out of her dimension” for being so evil. How does her family feel about this? Are they trying to get her back? Does this bizarre cast embark on a comical and heartfelt journey to try and bring her home? A journey that ends in an emotional reunion? Perhaps one that Mabel fights as she clings to her indifferent, cold ideology while her family begs her to come home. All of them recollecting her horrible crimes with proportionately little exasperation and an abundance of fondness. Stan recounting when she stole all the money from a fundraiser he’d held so she could instead invest the funds into remodeling their entire house to have a monochrome minimalist decor. Ford reminiscing about the time she tried to use his channel to funnel money into a crypto/nft scheme. Dipper having countless stories. like how happy she’d make him when he’d get to skip school thanks to her (because she burned down the school, multiple times). About how she’d sabotaged pretty much all of his relationships, but it was a good thing in the end because it allowed him to realize that who he always really loved was that dorky socially awkward corduroy girl he hadn’t noticed at first. All of this retrospection from her family chipping away at her hardened heart and- phew, I'm getting carried away, but the possibilities, man! These characters could be so much more than a one time joke.

There is also the matter of Anti-Bill. “He is very boring.” Shut up??? Speak for urself, schmebulock, he sounds delightful. This is another character I believe you could expand in many interesting ways. I mean think about it, a being possessing the same caliber of bill’s omniscience and using it for good sounds amazing. Knowing all the beauty in all the universes and going out of his way to share it with weary minds through their dreams. Nullifying nightmares. What if he were a healing antidote to the mind, a medicine to bill’s mind unraveling madness? What if they knew each other?

Do you see my (delusional) vision here guys?

#gravity falls #gf #mabel pines #waddles #soos ramirez #stanford pines #dipper pines #grunkle stan #stanley pines #bill cipher

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