#intridimensional

[skeletboi]

Part 17 of the Intridmensional AU!

This one starts right at the end of the last part, so I'd suggest reading the last few lines of part 16 before diving in here!

First /// Previous /// Next

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“Would you believe I told ol’ Fordsie here to keep his idiot brother away from his project after what happened last time, yet here you are! HAH!”

“Ford…?” Stan asked, taking a step back.

“Sixer isn't home right now! Please leave a message after the beep! BEEEEEEPPPP!” Ford said before breaking out into laughter.

“Stanford… what in tarnation…” Fiddleford asked.

Stan grabbed Fiddleford's arm and took a step back.

“Didn't I just say he wasn't home?!” Ford said, tilting his head and smiling painfully wide.

“I don't think that's Ford…” Stan said, dragging Fiddleford back another step.

“DING DING! The idiot gets one point! I figured you'd be the one to catch on first, Fiddlesticks! How disappointing! You'd think you'd be better at recognizing the man you left your wife and kid for! Hilarious! How are they, by the way?! Or did you forget them?!”

“What- Stanford…” Fiddleford said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Fidds, something is seriously wrong, that is not my brother!” Stan said.

“‘Fidds?’ Damn, lesser twin, that's cold! Ruin your brother's life then steal his ex boyfriend, too?! Hah! No wonder he hates you!”

“What are you?!” Fiddleford asked, his voice shaking.

“Haven't figured it out, specs?! Hah! I thought you were supposed to be smart! What would Fordsy ever see in you?! You noticed his ‘sleepwalking’ and ‘weird behavior’, but even when I'm right in front of you you still can't put it together!”

“You're the one who came up with the portal idea.” Fiddleford said slowly, dread sitting heavy in his stomach, freezing him in place even as not-Stanford stepped closer to him.

“DING DING! Another winner! The name's Bill! It's a displeasure to finally meet you! You humans are so stupid! Once Fordsy finishes that portal your world will be mine! And another thing-”

Stan didn't wait to hear the rest. He grabbed a wrench from a nearby work table and swung, watching in horror as Ford crumpled to the ground.

“That was still Ford.” Fiddleford said, looking seconds away from passing out.

“What else was I supposed to do?! Let him keep sayin’ nonsense?! I mean-fuck! What the hell have you two been doing?! What is this portal you keep mentioning?!”

“It's a transuniversal metavortex.” Fiddleford said quietly. “A gateway into another dimension.”

“Why in the sci-fi hell would you want to build that?!” Stan asked.

“Because! He asked me to!” Fiddleford suddenly yelled, making Stan jump.

“I thought he forgot about me, Stanley.” Fiddleford said, quieter now. “I couldn't say no ta him after he called. I reckon lookin’ back now, I shoulda said no, but he was so excited-”

“Fidds!” Stan said, drawing Fiddleford from his quiet rambling. “Blaming yourself isn't going to do anything. All three of us have made some fucked up mistakes! Right now we need to find out what the hell that thing using my brother as a puppet is before he tries to turn on that sci-fi death triangle over there!”

“Triangle.” Fiddleford mumbled.

“Yes, a triangle. Glad you caught that part.” Stan deadpanned.

“I hafta dismantle the portal.” Fiddleford said, looking across the room at the machine. “Stan! We gotta stop this! We have to stop that demon!” Fiddleford grabbed Stan's arm and dragged him towards the portal.

“Missing leg, Fidds!” Stan said, trying to keep his balance on the dirt floor as Fiddleford pulled him.

“Right, sorry Stanley. I jus’ need yer help, There’s an emergency shut off. We can shut the whole thing down, but it takes two people!” Fiddleford said quickly, letting go of Stan's arm to rummage in his pockets for a set of keys. “Take this.” he said, pulling a key off the ring and handing it to Stan. “There's a spot in the control panel o’er there. I'll count ta three, then we both gotta turn the keys. Got it?”

“Fiddleford!” They heard Ford yell from behind them.

“Shit.” Stan swore, putting the key in his pocket and turning towards Ford. “Fuck you, you weird ass demon! Leave my brother and Fiddleford alone!”

“Demon?! Stanley, what are you talking about? What the hell happened?! The last thing I remember was you and Fiddleford fighting! Did he use the gun on me?!” Ford asked, panic rising in his voice.

“You happened, asshole! Don't play dumb with me, Bill!” Stan yelled back.

“Bill?! How do you know that name?” Ford asked, dumbfounded.

“Because he possessed ya! He told us his name, Stanford! How could ya trust a demon?! What happened to the idea for this darned portal bein’ ‘hard work’?!” Fiddleford yelled, finally joining in on the fight.

“He's not a demon! He's a higher being! A Muse!” Ford said. “I gave him permission to possess me as he saw fit, I just didn't expect him to do it now!”

“He possessed ya, Ford! That sure as heck sounds like a demon ta me!” Fiddleford responded.

“He- no- he…. he's my friend!” Ford said.

“You have got to be fucking with me!” Stan yelled. “Friends don't let you possess them and then shout insults at your actual friends!”

“Insults? He- he was joking. He loves joking, that's all.” Ford said frantically, taking a few wobbly steps towards Stan.

“Goddammit, Ford. You're too smart for this!” Stan said, turning away. “We're shutting this sci-fi nightmare down.”

“No!” Ford said, running down to meet them. “Stan, you can't!”

“I'm sorry, Ford.” Fiddleford said, making his way back to the machine on the other side of the lab.

Ford grabbed Stan's arm and yanked him backwards, miscalculating the amount of force he used and accidently throwing him against the control panel. Stan glared at him and lunged, grabbing him by the collar and pushing him backwards.

“Goddammit, Sixer! We're trying to help you!” He yelled.

“Help me? You have no idea what you're doing! You know nothing about Bill!” Ford said, sounding a bit unsure and pushing Stan back.

“Uh- fellas, careful ‘round that ‘quipment, there!” Fiddleford said, but the twins ignored him.

“I know enough! I know a con man when I hear one, Ford, and that demon is the ultimate con man!” Stan yelled, trying to walk away from Ford before he hurt him again, but Ford grabbed his arm and tried to drag him away from the control panel.

“How much of a con man can he be?! He was right, after all! I should have done better to keep you away from my project!” Ford snarled.

“Fuck you, Ford. If you want to believe that fucking monster over us, than fine, but we're shutting this down!” Stan said, pushing his brother as hard as he could, sending him falling backwards onto the lever in the middle of the room.

“No!” Fiddleford yelled, but it was too late. The portal crackled to life, filling the dark lab with an eerie blue glow.

“Oh shit.” Stan said, taking a step back.

“It works.” Ford said, smiling up at the light. “It works!”

“That ain't good, Stanford!” Fiddleford said, running over to try and drag Ford away. “We need ta shut it down!”

“We are not shutting it down!” Ford said, pushing Fiddleford away.

Ford tried to pull Stan away from the machine, but forgot, in all the commotion, about Stan's new peg leg. He grew up with Stan. He had seen him stand his ground against bullies twice his size. But that was back when he had two legs to stand on, so he was thrown off guard when Stan didn't stay standing. They both slid across the ground, over the yellow line where the portal could reach, and suddenly started to float.

“What the fuck?!” Stan exclaimed, flailing his arms and looking for anything to grab onto.

“Stanford! Stanley!” Fiddleford screamed, grabbing some spare cable from the ground and running towards them. “Grab on!”

“Tie it down!” Stan yelled, as he caught the cable and grabbed Ford's arm, holding on for dear life.

“I can't!” Fiddleford said as he started to slip.

The twins were much heftier than him and his shoes were not grippy enough to keep him down. He wrapped the cord around his wrist and reached behind him, trying to grab the lever to hold himself back, but his fingers just barely grazed it.

“Do something!” Stan yelled as Ford disappeared through the blue light. “Fiddleford!”

Stan melted into the blue after Ford as Fiddleford's feet lifted from the ground.

“Well, shit.” Fiddleford said, as he fell through the portal after them.

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This feels a bit like a cheesy movie scene. That's all I could think while I was writing it... but hey! We made it to the portal!

There is probably some serious plot issues with this scene, like was the portal even ready? Sure it was! It's January and they were going to test it in the next day or two, so... sure it was!

Would Bill leave Ford's mind if he was unconscious? Probably!?

Does Stan not hit very hard, because Fidds and Ford were both hit, and not out for very long?! Well, he was probably subconsiously holding back a bit- this is his brother and his new friend he met a whole day ago and would fight a literal god for.

Why does Stan immediately trust and want to protect Fidds?! He just be like that, okay? Fidds is someone important to his brother, therefore worth protecting.

Okay, I'll stop now.

I start a new job tomorrow, so the updates on this might slow down a bit... sorry. I need to survive in this failing economy.

[skeletboi]

Part 9 of the Intridimensional AU!

New to this? Start here!

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They drove in a surprisingly comfortable silence for all of thirty minutes before Stanley spoke up.

“Get off at the next exit.” He said quickly.

“Did the whiskey go through you that fast?” Ford asked, flipping on the turn signal.

“No!” Stan replied, reaching over to stop the turn signal. “Shit. Not this exit, take the one after. Don't use a turn signal.”

Ford frowned and looked over at Stan.

“Why would I not use a turn signal? That's what they're for.” He asked, but figured it out as soon as he saw the glint of the revolver in Stan's hands. He glanced into the rearview mirror to see a car a few hundred yards behind them. “That could be anyone, Stan. People drive on highways all the time.”

“I know those lights, and they've been following us at the same distance for twenty minutes now. Any normal person would have passed you by now, you've been going exactly the speed limit.” Stan said.

“Of course I've been going the speed limit, that's what speed limits are for!” Ford replied, annoyed.

“Shit! They definitely know we noticed them. Take the exit, now!” Stan practically yelled as he rolled down his window.

Ford did as he was told, but still used the turn signal.

“Shit. Take a left. Find a place to pull off the road so the car is hidden.” Stan said, sounding more panicked by the second.

“Where the car is hidden? Stanley, this is the desert!”

“Then find a big fucking rock! Or a billboard! And stop going the speed limit!”

Ford sighed, but hit the gas and took the next turn. There were bushes lining the side of the road that looked large enough to hide in a few hundred yards, so he turned on his turning signal.

“Fucking- dammit Ford! No turning signal!” Stan yelled.

“It's the right thing to-” Ford started, but was cut off when he heard a loud bang and glass shatter.

He swerved and went off the road, nearly missing the bushes. “Shit, Stan are you-” another shot, this time from Stan.

“Fuck. Keep driving, they know where we are now and I can't get a clear shot from here.” Stan said, leaning halfway out the window.

“A clear shot at what? The person driving?!” Ford asked, putting the car back into first gear and getting back on the road.

“I'm going for the tires, but the driver if I have to.” Stan said. “I only have three shots and no time to reload.”

Ford grimaced, but sped up, shifting swiftly from first to second to third. He flinched when the gun went off again.

“Fuck.” The back window shattered and Stan fell forward, gripping his arm.

“Stan?!”

“I'm fine Sixer, just drive.” Stan said through gritted teeth.

Ford glanced down at the gun in Stan's lap and made a split second decision as another bullet hit the passenger side mirror. He rolled down his window and gripped the steering wheel in one hand, the gun in the other. He took a second to aim using his side mirror, and pulled the trigger. The headlights behind him swerved off the road.

“Fuck that was a good shot.” Stan said, sounding impressed in spite of the circumstances.

“Crossbows take more practice since the ammo is more susceptible to wind speeds.” Ford explained, throwing the gun on the dashboard and returning his focus to driving.

“Nerd weapons.” Stan mumbled as he started to strip off his red jacket.

Ford huffed out a laugh as he got back on the highway.

“How bad is it?” He asked, glancing between Stan and the side mirror to make sure no one else was following.

“Way better than my leg, or lack thereof.” Stan replied with a self deprecating laugh. “It's fine until we get out of here.”

Ford was not reassured by that vague response, but didn't argue.

“Who are they?” Ford asked when Stan finished wrapping his arm.

“Those guys in particular, or the whole gang?” Stan asked, changing into the shirt Ford had bought him.

“In general. Who are you running from?”

“Mostly the leader of this sect of the gang. His name's Rico and he's a real fucking jerk.”

“Right… But why are they after you? What did you do to cause such ire?”

“Ire- is that even a word? Whatever. I took a job as a getaway driver. I didn't know it was for a gang at the time, but overheard them talking about who they worked for. Once I realized I was being hired as a fall-guy rather than a getaway driver I stole some money from them and dipped.”

“You-” Ford sighed. “Why didn't you just not steal from them?!”

“I couldn't leave without money. I needed gas and hadn't eaten in days. That's why I took the job in the first place!”

“Well that worked out just swell, didn't it?!” Ford said, raising his voice.

“No! It didn’t! That's just how it fucking goes!” Stan responded, matching his brother's anger.

“It didn't have to go like that! How did you end up that bad?! Why not just get a job like a normal fucking person?!”

“With what? My birth certificate?! My Social Security card?! I guess our good ol’ dad didn't bother remembering those when he pre-packed for me!”

Ford frowned, gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles went white.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before you destroyed my project!”

“Right! Before 18 year old me punched a table I should have known that I would end up on the street running from a gang. How silly of me!”

“Punched a table? You mean sabotaged my future?!”

“It was an accident, Ford! I didn't think it was broken! And how sabotaged is your future, exactly? Don't you have a house in Oregon where you do exactly what you wanted to do!? With an assistant and probably a working stove or some shit?! You still went to college! Unless you're also secretly missing a leg and running from a gang, I would say you seem to have a pretty not-sabotaged life!”

“You don't get it! I could be so much further! I could have a whole team of assistants! I could have a full lab and my own company by now! I could be so much more!”

“Oh, of course. You could have so much more! And I would still have nothing! All I ever had was you, you fucking asshole!”

“That's not my fault! Maybe if you actually tried to make something of yourself you could have had something more! I didn't ask to be everything to you!”

“But you never told me you weren’t, either! You always planned on leaving me behind, so why wait until that day? Why not tell me sooner?!”

“Because I couldn’t!” Ford yelled, then sighed, the fight leaving him all at once. “Either way you wouldn't have accepted that as an answer.”

“You didn’t even give me a fucking chance, Ford.” Stan replied, sighing and turning to stare out the window. “I would have done anything for you.”

“Except not mess with my project.” Ford mumbled.

Stan turned back towards him and glared. “It was a fucking accident! Fuck. It doesn't even matter. I apologized, didn't I? What else do you want from me?”

Ford glanced over at him as he considered that.

“I suppose I don't know.” He responded after a moment.

“Great. At least we're both clueless for once.” Stan mumbled.

Ford sighed and focused on the road ahead of him.

“I'm happy you're not dead.” He said after a few minutes.

“Well, that's better than nothing, I guess.” Stan replied, looking back out the window. “I'm happy you're not dead, too.”

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Previous /// Next

Wow, Skelet, have you considered getting to the fucking point?!

Yes, I have considered it. My hands, on the other hand, just keep typing dialouge. I love dialouge! I'm generally quiet in real life, so characters do all the talking for me. It's a nice trade.

But really, I do plan on time skipping a bit because I need Stan to meet Fidds. The next part will probably be back in comic form because I like to torture myself, I guess. (This is news to me, too.)

Thanks to everyone following along! Likes/reblogs/comments give me the seratonin I so desperately lack. ❤️

[skeletboi]

Part 6 of the intridimensional au!

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Is this even an au anymore, or just an excuse to experiment with drawing comics? (Something I've never had the displeasure pleasure of doing before.)

The next part will probably be more fic, because dialouge is too much effort with comics, and there will be quite a bit of dialouge.

Also, that is Ford's hand holding the map... just to make that clear. Don't pay too much attention to the map, its a modern map of Albuquerque and there is no motel there! Thought about being more clever with it, then decided that was more than my adhd brain could handle! lol.

[skeletboi]

Part 4 of the Intridimensional au! Fic this time because I do what I want.

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Ford waved goodbye to Fiddleford and made his way towards his boarding flight. He honestly had no idea what he was getting into, but Fiddleford had struck down every one of his excuses and booked a flight for him. He couldn't think of any other reason to not go aside from just flat out telling Fiddleford about Bill, but he still wasn't ready for that conversation.

He definitely wasn't ready to see Stanley again either, but Fiddleford was right, he couldn't ignore a call like the one he had gotten. He hoped it was all just a misunderstanding, that Stanley had gotten drunk or high and was just being dramatic, but his gut told him otherwise. Maybe it was something about the sincerity and pain in Stanley’s voice, or maybe it was just the suddenness of the call. Ford didn't know. He would just have to find out.

He boarded the plane easily enough and took his seat. It was already after 8:00pm and they wouldn't be landing until after 10:00pm, so he could at least try and get some sleep before dealing with whatever was waiting for him in New Mexico. He was asleep before they reached cruising altitude. 

He opened his eyes what seemed like only moments later and found himself in a familiar blue void. 

“Hiya, Fordsie! Isn't it a bit hard to work on a portal from 10,000 feet in the air?!” 

Ford looked up to see Bill floating a few feet in front of him.

“My Muse! I apologize, something came up. I plan to be back in Oregon tomorrow, so the portal is still on schedule!”

“Right! I heard all about it! The dumb version of you got himself in some trouble, huh?! Shouldn't be that big of a surprise! I say just let him learn his lesson! Who needs him?!”

“I promise this won't get in our way, but he is still my brother. I can't just let him…”

“Die?! Why not?! He ruined your life! Now he's ruining his own!”

Ford winced at the word ‘die’. He may still be mad at Stanley, and he was stressed about leaving the portal project at such a crucial time, but this wasn't like when Stan got kicked out ten years ago. This was something more, and he would never forgive himself if he didn't at least try to help.

“Well-” Ford sighed. “I'm not sure how to explain this, Bill. I just can't leave him to…”

“Die?! Don't be so afraid of that word! Humans are dying all the time! It's what your kind is best at! Hah! But don't you worry, you still got a while left!”

Ford frowned as Bill floated closer, narrowing his eye like he was considering something.

“Fine, Fordsie.” Bill said after a moment. “Go help that wannabe pirate, hah! Just don't let it take too long! You have a portal to finish!”

“Thank you, my muse. I promise I won't let him distract me. I just have to make sure he's alive.” Ford said, smiling.

“Yeah, yeah! Just keep him away from the portal! You know what happened last time he got too close to one of your projects! Hah!”

Ford grimaced, but nodded. 

“Good! Just don't come cryin’ to me if he's already dead! Hah! Byee!”

Ford woke with a start, nearly hitting the passenger next to him.

“Sorry!” he said quickly.

The passenger just frowned and scooted slightly away from him. Ford hid his hands in his jacket pockets and turned to stare out the window. It was probably best to stay awake for the remainder of the flight.

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This is some first draft material, friends. I didn't even try to read back over it. I might one day, but not today!

The next part will also be fic, then maybe more comics... Who knows! I don't!

This is obviously all backstory as to how they all ended up in Gravity Falls together, but there will actually be going into the portal and portal adventures eventually.

Once I have a bit more content I will post all of it on ao3 to make it easier to follow!

Again, this is Part 4!

Part 3 here!

Part 5 here!

[skeletboi]

Part 2 to this.

Part 3.

This is me deciding if this au will be fanfic or comic. I have never drawn a comic in my life. I have no idea what I'm doing. Send help.

(This is part of my inTRIdimensional AU, where the whole mystery trio falls into the portal.)

[skeletboi]

Part 13 of the Intridimensional AU!

First /// Previous /// Next

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Ford woke with a start when he heard a clatter down the hall followed by a loud swear. He sighed and stretched, trying to work the kink out of his neck. Fiddleford was sure to give him hell about sleeping in his study again, but he had a lot to catch up on after the impromptu two day road trip, and couldn't afford to sleep now. He stood from his chair and adjusted his glasses, taking a deep breath to steel himself for whatever mess Stanley had just made.

He made his way down the hall, heading for the kitchen, when he heard Fiddleford's laugh from the parlor.

“You coulda told me it was spring loaded! Sixer is going to kick my ass out so fast!” He heard Stanley say.

Ford frowned and made his way to the parlor, where he found Fiddleford kneeling in front of Stan with a small toolbox at his side.

Fiddleford looked up at the motion in the doorway and smiled brilliantly at Ford.

“Mornin’ Stanford. Did ya actually get some sleep for once?” He asked.

“Some.” Ford said. “What are you two doing?”

“Making out, obviously.” Stan said quickly before Fiddleford could answer.

Fiddleford turned bright red and shot up.

“No! We sure as heck weren't doin’ that! I was jus’ fixin’ ta tryin’ out the new robit leg!” He said, waving his hands frantically.

Ford raised an eyebrow as he looked from Fiddleford's red face to Stan's smug smile.

“Right. How is that working out?” He asked, stepping further into the room to get a better look at Stan's leg.

“It's fucking great!” Stan said. “Although Fidds here didn't warn me about the spring loaded knife holder he put it in, so I owe you a new lamp. Put it on my tab.”

“Fidds?” Ford asked, frowning.

“Your ‘assistant’ here. Ya know, Fidds!” Stan said, smiling mischievously.

“You used to call me that all the time in college, Ford. You still call me that ‘cassionally. It don't bother me if Stan calls me that, too.” Fiddleford said, leaning down to pack up some of his tools.

“I am aware of that, yes. I just find it… interesting that Stan is calling you that.” Ford said, doing his best not to pout and surely failing.

“I got myself a long name, seems only natural. Anyways,I'm ‘bout done here and was gonna make some breakfast. You wanna join?” Fiddleford asked as he packed the last of his tools.

“I have a lot of work to catch up on.” Ford responded, glancing away.

“Work-schmerk. Eat somethin’ will ya? I haven’t seen you consume more than a protein pill and coffee since you dragged my sorry ass out of that motel.” Stan said.

“‘Least have some toast, Stanford. I did plenty of work while you were gone. I know ya like yer schedule, but it ain't no rush- it's not like we got a real deadline.” Fiddleford added.

“Keeping to the schedule is paramount!” Ford replied.

“For who? Do you have a boss you're not telling me about?” Fiddleford asked jokingly.

“No!” Ford responded too quickly, making Stan and Fiddleford jump. “No, I don't have a ‘boss’. I just would prefer to maintain our original timeline.”

Stan stared at Ford, wondering what would cause such a guilty reaction and coming up empty.

“Well I'll meet ya in the lab with some toast in a bit then, but I ain't starvin’ myself to death for yer silly schedule.” Fiddleford said in a way that suggested this was a normal argument between them.

“Fair enough. You know where to find me.” Ford said, turning on his heel and making his way to the lab.

Fiddleford sighed as he stood then turned to Stanley, holding out a hand to help him up.

“That leg is gonna take some real gettin’ used to, so don't rush it.” He said as Stan took his offered hand and managed to get off the couch without falling.

“This definitely feels weird already.” Stan responded, taking a wobbly step forward.

“How's the pain? I know that magic goop healed it up real well, but is it hurtin’ at all?” Fiddleford asked, taking Stan's other hand to lead him another step forward.

“It's not hurting. All I feel is pressure, like my leg is asleep instead of gone.” Stan replied, taking another step and nearly falling.

Fiddleford caught him before he could take them both down and laughed.

“Didn’t I jus’ tell ya to take it slow?”

“Yeah, yeah. I'm not real good at that, though.”

“So impatience runs in the family, too? I ain't too shocked by that.” Fiddleford laughed.

“It didn't used to. Ford used to be way more patient than me.” Stan thought aloud.

“That don’ surprise me much, either. When I met him he was a lot more patient, ‘cept when it came to his work, but he has been actin’ a bit odd as of late. Did he ever sleep walk as a kid?”

“Sleepwalk? No. He was on the top bunk in our room, so I definitely would have noticed.”

“Int'restin’. He didn’ used ta sleep walk in college either and we shared a be- I mean I also wouda noticed. Anyways, he’s been sleep walkin’ a lot recently, but he avoids the question if I ever ask him ‘bout it.”

Stan frowned as he took another step, wondering what could cause sleepwalking in an adult. Stress, maybe? Ford did seem a bit on edge, but Stan had assumed that was because he had found his twin brother missing a leg in a shitty motel room. There was definitely something more going on here, but he had no idea what it was.

“Why you?” Stan asked, looking up at Fiddleford.

Fiddleford frowned in question.

“I mean, he's out here lookin’ for monsters or aliens or something, right? Why does he need a mechanic?” Stan clarified.

“Ah, right. Well he's workin’ on this project that was a bit more complicated mechanically than what he’s use ta doin’.” Fiddleford explained, sounding suddenly nervous.

“That is a very vague answer, Fidds.” Stan deadpanned.

“I- I don’ quite know howta ‘splain it. I don’ even know how he done came up with the idea… I-I-” Fiddleford stuttered.

“Okay, okay. Sorry, Fidds. Didn't mean to stress you out, I was just making conversation. We can talk about something else.”

Fiddleford nodded, a nervous smile on his face that just made Stan more curious.

“Well then, Ford mentioned you left your wife and child behind in California to work for him, that seems a bit more than casual!” Stan said with a shit-eating grin.

Fiddleford neary tripped backwards.

“Well! I- No! I love my son, I'm goin’ back! I jus’ gotta help Stanford here a bit longer, I reckon!” Fiddleford said quickly.

“Right, right. Interesting that you mentioned your son, but not your wife.” Stan said, his smile widening.

“Stanley! I will let you fall! ‘Course I love my wife! I jus’... well I didn't expect Stanford to ever reach out ta me after college, I ‘spose.” Fiddleford responded, his voice fading as he talked.

“That's a pretty intense pickle you got yourself in, isn't it?” Stan asked.

“It ain't no pickle. Stanford has always cared about his work more than anythin’. I've known that since the first week I met ‘im. He'll do this project a his either way, and we'll go our separate ways. He'll forget ‘bout me ‘ventually.”

“But you won't forget about him?” Stan asked, and didn't miss the way Fiddleford flinched at that.

“Well yeah, I ‘spose I'll hafta forget him, too.” He responded quietly, his gaze distant.

Stan frowned, unsure how to respond after that sudden change in demeanor.

“Well, I think your wife could forget about you, too. So there's that.” Stan said after a moment.

Fiddleford made a face and dropped his hands from Stan's, causing Stan to wobble and nearly fall over. Stan huffed but took the hint. He wouldn't be getting through to these nerds easily, but at least it was entertaining.

“Less talkin’, more focusin’ on your steps.” Fiddleford said, taking Stan's hands back in his own to steady him.

“Sorry, mom. I'm focusing.” Stan mumbled.

Fiddleford huffed out a laugh and continued to lead Stan forward. It was getting easier with each step, but Fidds was right- this would take some serious getting used to.

____________________________________________

Well, life is a distopian nightmare, but these boys are keeping me sane. (for now)

Stan is a menace, and I love that for him.

[skeletboi]

Really short part 5 of the Intridimensional au!

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Stanley sat up, wiping his mouth on his sleeve with one hand and blindly reaching for the bottle of whiskey he stored under his bed with the other. He found it and took off the cap, throwing his head back and drinking as much as he could without taking a breath. He swallowed hard, focusing on the burn in his throat as he set down the bottle and ripped a piece of fabric off of his shirt.

He painstakingly leaned forward and wrapped the shirt right above his knee, tying it hard enough to hurt. He didn't need it to be perfect, there was no use worrying about infection when he was going to be dead anyway. He idly wondered if Ford would wonder what happened to him, or if he would just go about living his life. Knowing Rico he was sure they would never find his body, but he took comfort in the fact that his mother would never have to know what became of him. She would just think he was ignoring her calls per usual.

Maybe I should have told Ford to lie to mom before I hung up. He thought as he ripped off another piece of his shirt. Maybe he'll lie anyway.

He wrapped the second piece of fabric over the stump that used to be his leg and tied it off before picking up the bottle of whisky and downing the remainder. He waited for it to settle in his stomach before throwing the empty bottle aside and starting the painful process of dragging himself towards the door. He wasn't sure there was any real reason to shut it, since the worst anyone could do was kill him, but figured he might as well.

Fuck it. he thought as leaned against the wall. How nice of me to save Rico the trouble of kicking it down again.

It took longer than he cared to admit to drag himself the whole five feet, but he eventually managed it. The door swung shut, as he pulled the knob, but didn't latch all the way.

He looked up and blinked slowly as the whiskey started to kick in. He could swear the pattern in the popcorn ceiling looked a bit like a six fingered hand.

At least I got to say I was sorry…

________________________

I know I just posted part 4, but hey! Here's part 5!

Part 4 here.

Part 6 here.

[skeletboi]

This is part 3!

Part 2 here.

Part 4 here.

News flash: I still don't know how to draw a comic, and this is very lazy. You're welcome.

Still might do half fanfic half comic... I don't know what I'm doing.

[skeletboi]

Intridimensional au part 15.

First /// Previous /// Next

*edit: I forgot the doorknob! Lol. Whoops. I spent way more time on Fidds than Stan. Which was like... less than an hour, but still! Whoops.

[skeletboi]

I need a mystery trio all go through the portal au.

But make it fiddauthor. And Stan x flirting with random people across dimensions.

Edit: I started this crapshow here.

[skeletboi]

Sneak peek of where this AU is going.

*edit* this turned into part 1, part 2 here.

*****

Stan hit the ground hard. He knew it should have hurt, but he couldn't feel anything more than the screaming pain in his leg. At least Rico had been kind enough, if he could call it that, to drop him off back at his motel.

He painstakingly reached a hand out towards the door and dragged himself closer. The door was still wide open from when Rico and his goons had knocked it down, which was good. He was sure he wouldn't be able to stand in this condition. 

He wasn't sure if it was his focus on getting to the phone or the blood loss, but he thought he was doing a pretty great job ignoring the pain. He made it to the phone an indeterminate amount of time later, and dragged himself upright enough to dial.

“Fiddleford McGucket here!” A man answered cheerfully after the second ring.

“Who…? Shit.” Stanley responded, his voice sounding worse than he had expected. “Nevermind, wrong number.”

“Wait jus’ a second, there. Were ya lookin’ for Stanford?” Fiddleford asked.

Stan froze, realizing too late just how unprepared he was to hear his brother's name.

“Ya still there?” Fiddleford asked, sounding less cheerful and more confused.

“Yeah- yeah. Sorry I am- fuck- I am looking for Ford.” Stan struggled to respond as pain shot up from his leg.

“Lemme get em’ for ya. Just a sec.” Fiddleford said. 

Stan heard a click as the phone was set down and took a second to wonder who the hell Fiddleford was. Had Ford actually made a friend? Stan felt a jolt of sadness, but pushed it back. He knew why he was calling now, and, if he was being honest, he was happy Ford had someone by his side.

“This is Stanford Pines.” Stan heard, tearing him from his thoughts.

“Ford- hi.” Stan said, then paused to take a breath as another jolt of pain ran up his spine. “I- it's Stan. Please don't hang up.”

“Stanley?” Ford asked, an odd mix of old anger and concern in his voice. “What's wrong with your voice?”

“It's a long story- I- shit- I just needed to let you know I'm sorry.” Stan said, digging his hand into the dirty carpet and trying his best to focus on his words instead of his leg. “I'm sorry for everything. I really didn't mean to fuck up that project- fuck- no, that doesn't matter- I'm just sorry, Ford. I hope you're doin’ alright.”

“Stanley, what are you not telling me?” Ford asked, clever as ever.

“It doesn't matter, Ford. I just needed you to know, alright?”

“Stanley, what did you get yourself into this time?!” Ford practically yelled.

“I fucked up, that's all.” Stan said, with a humorless laugh. “Nothin’ new there, I guess. It doesn't matter though, I probably deserved it. Don't worry about it.”

“That did not answer my question.” 

“And I told ya it doesn't matter! I'm calling you to fucking apologize! Did you not get that?” Stan snapped, then immediately regretted it. “Shit, sorry. I just mean to say it doesn't matter, alright?”

“Like hell it doesn't matter, Stanley. You sound terrible. Do you have a car? I can give you my address.”

“I still got the Stanley Mobile, but it would be pretty hard to use the clutch right about now.” Stan responded with another humorless laugh as he tried to look anywhere but his leg. “Anyway, I'm not callin’ you for help. I just couldn't let it end how it did.”

“Stan, what the hell does that mean?!” Ford yelled in earnest.

“It just means what it means, Ford, alright? Can't ya just take me at my word this one time?!”

“This one time?! I took you at your word our whole childhood!”

“Then do it again! One last time, would ya?! Ya stubborn bastard!”

“That makes no sense! If I were a bastard, then you would also be a bastard! We're twins!”

“At least you haven't changed.” Stan mumbled.

“Obviously, neither have you! What did you mean ‘one last time’?!” Ford yelled.

“It doesn't matter! I'm sorry, alright?! That's all you need to know!” Stan yelled back.

“Stanley-” Ford started, but Stan didn't wait, he slammed down the phone as hard as he could from his awkward angle on the floor and groaned at the searing pain that followed.

He finally looked down at what remained of his leg and immediately leaned to the side to vomit.

Rico would be back in three days, and Stan had nowhere, and no way to run.

*****

Well I guess less of where it's going, and more where it started?

Anyways, more to come! I'll be posting it on ao3! And probably drawing more art to go along with it.

I call it the InTRIdimensional AU!

[skeletboi]

Just in case you're wondering what Fiddleford is up to while Ford is in New Mexico.

I'm sorry I write in cursive because I'm old. It says "Just a few equations he said..."

Poor Fidds. Ford left him a few equations to keep him busy. He needs a nap.

[skeletboi]

Unrendered and unhinged. The Portal Trio AU!

Still needs a better name.

I have a backstory, but I'm not good at drawing comics, so I'm thinking of making it a fanfic instead.

*edit* It has a name! The intridimensional au!

Original idea here.

Part one of the actual storyline here!

[skeletboi]

Intridimensional AU extra (Part 19.5?)

Ford talking to the other refugees in the asteroid cave. He doesn't have very good timing. 😔

[skeletboi]

Part 18 of the Intridimensional Au!

TW FOR BLOOD!

First /// Previous /// Next

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Fiddleford watched as the portal closed in front of him, and could swear he felt his heart stop.

“So nice of you to visit, Fordsy! Although, I would have preferred if you had actually followed my directions and opened the portal for me.” Bill said from somewhere behind him. “At least you kept it up and running. It'll be easy to find another pawn to open it for me now that it's complete!”

Fiddleford looked back towards the voice and instantly regretted it. There, sitting on a floating throne in the middle of what looked like some sort of asteroid field, was the one-eyed triangle being from the tapestries hanging around Ford's study.

“A pawn… Bill- I thought-” Ford started to say, but was cut off by Bill's laughter.

“Don't get me wrong, Fordsy, I do like you much more than the other human pawns I've used over the centuries! Although, I am upset that you didn't listen to me when I told you to keep Lesser Twin away from the portal! We could have ruled the galaxy together, Fordsy!” Bill said, his eye narrowed in anger, but his voice cheerful as ever.

“I- I didn't want that, Bill. I just wanted to further my research!” Ford said, hurt and fear evident in the shakiness of his voice. “I never wanted to hurt anyone!”

“HAH! Keep lying to yourself, Ford! I've been in your brain! I know what you want!” Bill responded, seeming genuinely delighted.

“Inside your brain?!” Fiddleford said, then clamped his hands over his mouth as Bill turned to him.

“Example A!” Bill said, his arm elongating to reach Fiddleford without ever leaving his throne. “Fiddlesticks here!” He said, dangling Fiddleford by his arm like a ragdoll. “You’re always thinking about how much you care about him, but you didn't even flinch when he told you he replaced part of his arm with a machine after he broke it on an adventure with you!”

“He did what?!” Stan said, finally speaking up. “Ford, what the fuck?!”

“I- that- that wasn't up to me! I was just interested in the mechanics! Of course I cared about him being hurt!” Ford said, looking frantically between Bill, Fiddleford, and Stan.

“Right, hah! You don't have to lie to me, Sixer. You and I are the same- we care about what people can do for us, not what we can do for them! Isn't that why you left him after college and waited until you needed him again to call?!”

“NO! No! I was just distracted with my research!” Ford yelled.

“I always thought he was pointless, anyway!” Bill said, holding Fiddleford up in front of his eye. “You definitely don't need him now! But don't worry, I can get rid of him for us!” Bill said, then squeezed his fingers together, crushing Fiddleford's arm.

Fiddleford screamed as he heard metal crunch and bones crack.

“FIDDLEFORD!” Stan and Ford both screamed behind him, but he could barely hear them over the blood rushing in his ears. He watched as his lab coat turned red with blood and his vision blurred at the edges.

“Whoops! Broke your toy!” Bill laughed, carelessly tossing Fiddleford towards the twins. “That's what happens wheN YOU BREAK MINE!” He said, his voice distorting and growing louder as he spoke.

Fiddleford crashed into Ford, sending them both flying a hundred yards from where Stan was floating.

“NOW I GET TO BREAK THIS ONE, TOO!” Bill screamed, as he turned from yellow to red and tripled in size.

He reached a hand towards Stan, but Stan just barely dodged him.

“DON'T YOU TOY WITH ME, LESSER TWIN!” Bill yelled. “SIXER SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU IN THE WOMB!”

Fiddleford and Ford watched in horror as Bill caught Stan by his good leg, holding him up in front of his eye like a fish dangling on a line.

“Fuck you, you geometric asshole!” Stan yelled, then grabbed his knife from his peg leg and jammed it as hard as he could into Bill's eye.

“Not the eye!” Bill screamed, letting go of Stan as he covered his face with his hands.

Stan used the distraction to get away, kicking off a piece of asteroid and making it, unharmed, to Ford and Fiddleford's side.

“Stan- I- I didn't know-” Ford stuttered, his arms wrapped around an unconscious and bloody Fiddleford.

“Not now, Sixer, we have to get out of here!” Stan said, glancing back at Bill.

Ford nodded and looked around. “The larger asteroids. We can hide in there for now.”

“Good plan, but let me carry Fidds.” Stan replied, holding out his arms.

Ford nodded again and passed Fiddleford over to Stan. “Now let's get out of here.”

They took off, jumping off of smaller rocks to make it to the main field in the distance.

“Here!” Ford whisper-shouted when he spotted a cave within one of the asteroids.

Stan followed after him and breathed a sigh of relief as he set foot on the solid ground. Ford glanced around as Stan carefully set Fiddleford down.

“This looks like it goes pretty deep, but we should be fine here for a bit.” Ford said, kneeling down next to Stan to get a better look at Fiddleford.

Stan nodded as he took out his knife and started to cut the sleeve of Fiddleford's shirt. He grimaced at the mass of gore that used to be Fiddleford's arm.

“There is not much left to work with, and I'm sure he'll wake up soon. We might have to…” Stan couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence.

“Amputate.” Ford finished for him.

Stan nodded.

“I'll do it. This is my fault, afterall. He may never forgive me, but at least I can help here.” Ford said quietly, taking the knife from Stan.

“You got conned, Ford. He'll forgive you.” Stan replied quietly.

Ford smiled weakly at Stan, turned to Fiddleford, and held up the knife.

“Woah there, stranger!” Someone said from further in the cave.

They both jumped and looked into the darkness as a hooded figure emerged.

“Don't worry, I am a refugee, too, but I have a better tool for that.” The figure said.

“A refugee?” Ford asked.

“In the Nightmare Realm. You're from another dimension, yes? We have been hiding from the Euclidean, too.” They said.

“Euc-a-what-now?” Stan asked.

“Bill. The Euclidean. We could hear him speak to you, and we can help. We should help your friend there, first, though.” They explained.

Stan and Ford glanced at each other then back at the hooded figure, and nodded.

The figure approached and pulled a knife from under their cloak. They knelt down on the other side of Fiddleford and hit a button on the knife that made it hum and glow a bright purple.

“It's a plasma knife.” The figure said. “It will cut and cauterize at the same time, but hold them down- I wouldn't want them to move and cut more than necessary.”

Stan and Ford nodded and held Fiddleford down.

“I'm sorry, Fidds.” Ford mumbled as the figure lowered the knife.

“On three.” they said. “One, two, three.”

The knife hissed and burned as it cut clean through flesh and bone. Fiddleford's eyes shot open and he screamed, looking up at Ford as he tried to pull away from the pain.

“I'm so sorry, Fiddleford.” Ford said again, tears streaming down his face as he let up on his grip so Fiddleford could move.

“It's done.” The figure said.

Fiddleford looked over at the figure and screamed again, shooting up and backing away until his back was flush against Ford’s chest.

“It's okay, Fidds. They were helping us.” Ford said, wrapping his arms around Fiddleford to try and calm him down.

Ford felt Fiddleford relax at his touch, but it only lasted a second before he realized his arm was missing.

“What in the fiddle-hoppin’ heck did y'all do?!” He screeched.

“Fidds, we had no choice- Bill crushed your arm.” Stan said.

“He-” Fiddleford said, then his breath hitched, and didn't stop. He started to hyperventilate and Ford held him tighter.

“I'm so sorry, Fidds. I'll fix this.” he mumbled into Fiddleford's hair. “I'll stop him, and I'll fix this. I- I- I'll kill Bill. He won't win.”

“We'll kill him.” Stan said, placing a hand on Fiddleford's leg.

Fiddleford’s breathing started to slow as he dug his fingers into the arm Ford had around him.

“I'm going to need an arm.” he said quietly between breaths.

“We can help.” The cloaked figure said. “Come. We can give you what you need to start your journey.”

_____________________________________________

This is not written well. Ignore that.

Might do more badly drawn comics from here on out since it's less serious plot, but there will definitely still be more written chapters.

I start my new job in like... 10 minutes... so expect less frequent updates. But there will be updates!

Also I know Fiddleford got over that panic attack hella fast... but he gets a bit more ooc from here on out because he realizes the only way to save the dimension his son still resides in is to fight back, and he knows he can help.

Anyways. Enjoy, I guess!

[skeletboi]

Super short update because my life is a mess.

But here is part 24 of the Intridimensional Au!

First /// Previous /// Next

__________________________________________

“Impressive as ever.” Ford said as he looked at the robot arm on the work bench.

“Thanks, Stanford.” Fiddleford replied quietly.

Ford watched Fiddleford place his good hand over the arm then glanced up at Fiddleford's face and frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“Lots a’ things are, I reckon.” Fiddleford said with a humorless huff of laughter. “Ya know when I went back home fer Christmas and fergot ta get Emma-May a present?”

“I recall, yes.” Ford responded, his frown deepening.

“She was already purdy darn mad at me before that. I wore baggy sweaters ta try and hide the metal cast on my arm so she wouldn't go worryin’ ‘bout it, but Tate ain't dumb and heard the hum of the components. He asked me about it, ‘cuz he's at that age where they ask a million questions, and I told him it was a metal cast. ‘Course he's an imaginative kid so he immediately started calling it a robit arm. He ran ta Emma-May ta tell her, and I thought she was ‘bout to murder me on the spot.” Fiddleford paused and picked up the arm. “He'd love this, but Emma-May would hate it.”

“I love it, if that makes you feel any better.” Ford said, placing a hand on Fiddleford's back.

“It does.” Fiddleford said with another quiet laugh. “But I can't stop thinkin’ about that. Emma-May knew how I felt ‘bout you in college, and we got in a purdy big fight ‘bout it before I came ta Gravity Falls. I love Emma-May, but our parents both loved the idea of us bein’ together more than we did. I think maybe we were more like best friends than spouses, but I promised her I'd be back ‘cause, above all else, we jus’ wanted Tate ta have a normal childhood.” Fiddleford set the arm back down and choked on a laugh that sounded suspiciously more like a sob. “‘Spose I'll jus’ hafta live with the fact that he won't. I don’ know if he'll ‘member me at all.”

“Fidds…” Ford said softly, unsure of what else to say with his own guilt and regret tearing at his chest.

“If I knew it was gonna turn out this way I prolly woulda jus’ said screw it and kissed ya as soon as ya opened the door to yer damn creepy cabin in the woods.”

Ford cracked a smile at that, but Fiddleford still looked a thousand miles away as he stared down at the arm.

“You would have stopped me.” Ford said after a moment.

Fiddleford glanced over at him in question.

“You say you would have kissed me right then, but I know you, and, if you had known this was the outcome, you would have left.” Ford clarified.

“Maybe.” Fiddleford responded thoughtfully, “But maybe not. Maybe I’m too scared in every timeline.”

“Fuck that.” Stan said, coming up behind them and dropping the last box at their feet. “I saw your face when Ford mentioned fighting back against Bill. That wasn't fear. That was determination.”

Fiddleford smiled sadly over his shoulder at Stanley.

“I thought you'd grow out of being so cheesy.” Ford deadpanned.

“Nope!” Stan replied with a smile. “But if you two are done being nauseating, we have some boxes to go through. I found a box of brown meat! It says it expires in 1993, but who the fuck knows what year it is in this dimension. My plan is to eat it now, ask questions later!”

“I believe you meant ‘die of food poisoning later’.” Ford noted.

“Or die of starvation! Might as well eat mystery food and die the fun way!” Stan laughed.

“Dysentery don't sound fun.” Fiddleford replied.

“Whatever, nerds.” Stan said, motioning to the boxes. “Just grab what you want so we can get on with life. I found a shot gun, too. You're welcome.”

Fiddleford laughed but did as he was told and put aside his arm project to start rummaging through the boxes.

___________________________________________

Sorry non-Fiddauthor fans. I needed Fiddauthor.

I originally wasn't going to write this bit in, but I wanted to give some context to the guilt they're both still feeling and the relationship between Emma-May and Fidds. Emma-May is bi in this universe, but prefers woman. Is that a cop-out to make myself feel better about how much Fidds hurt her? Yes, yes it is. But I am doing it anyway because I do what I fucking want.

I have another art piece nearly done, so I'll probably post it tomorrow. For now, enjoy. Or whatever.