#rbsb

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

hey. hey. what if stan doesnt become a vampire in reverse blood sucker. what if he jist dies. what then.

@caninescreations made a fantastic visual representation:

Stan: dead

Ford :0

[caninescreations]

Was going though your art (as I do) and saw where Stan has a break down when then twins revoke his invitation, and was thinking, In Rbsb, since Ford is an undead fueled by rage, would he start raging at the door? Screaming in fury and getting even scarier?

Also, in bsb, how long can Stan wear that sweater before it needs to get washed? And will he try to wear it longer.

Vampires, being undead, don't tend to be very human-byproduct-producing (sweat, oils, mucus, the like) to start with. Stan, being a sire-less vampire who's ghost-adjacent, gets a cheat in that as long as he's properly fed his physical body stays "clean", like a body that's been recently prepared for burial.

All that to say that, unless someone gets the sweater dirty via outside means, it just plain won't get dirty. Which means that sweater ain't coming off 'till someone forces him out of it.

"But Stan, it's the middle of the summer! You'll get heatstroke!" Yeah well he doesn't have blood circulation. Don't worry about it.

As for RBSB… Hoo boy. You and I did decide that, as opposed to Stan's Anguished Loneliness, Ford's temperament would be more like Anguished Outrage, which means the things that trigger his vampiric thirst differ a little bit.

For the sake of the hypothetical, we'll say that: 1) in college, Fiddleford never found out that Ford was a vampire, so he never becomes a hunter or gets enthralled, 2) ford "encouraged" stan to pursue a degree track in unusualogy (with a minor in Phlebotomy to facilitate the development of Bloodstitute(tm)), 3) they moved to Gravity Falls after graduation so Ford can study all the Weirdness there and Stan can help him, and 4) Ford doesn't learn the lesson of "maybe don't treat my brother like a juice box"; all this so that he doesn't accidentally end up with that well-meaning-but-unintentionally-evil vampire den in the woods like we said he probably would, lmao. [Also, I'm pretty sure Stan would just finish refurbishing the Stan O' War instead of tearing it apart to make a travel-sized coffin, and then just hitch that to his car on a boat trailer. Give his brother something he can move around in, y'know?]

I can imagine him trying to hold his temper at first, trying to remind himself that Dipper and Mabel aren't aware of the full picture and that they think he's responsible for whatever is plaguing the town. But he's not… the most patient person in the world. Finding out they moved his grave off the property, stole the deed to the [his] house, and revoked his invitation to a home that was built for him all press the "I'm being Denied what's supposed to be Rightfully Mine" button pretty hard. So when they refuse to let him in [and he even said PLEASE], he maybe gets a little yell-y. He maybe paces around the house, seething at every closed window and door. He maybe calls out for his brother, who's supposed to have his back 100% of the time, all day every day, as promised, and doesn't get an answer. Ford, who at this point is very used to getting his way, gets aggro about it.

[Stan, of course, the catalyst for this event, is laid up in bed because he can't muster the strength to get up. Dipper and Mabel don't even really need to restrain him- they just pile a bunch of blankets on him, put on some soothing old-timey jazz, and ring the tiny window and the frame of the door with garlands of garlic bulbs and flowers. Stan still tries to grumble and get up, but the dude's spent forty years as an on-tap snack. He ain't gettin' up.]

Depending on if Soos has imprinted on Stan in this timeline, I can see it going a couple ways:

If Soos is available, he'd probably be able to get Ford calmed down enough to facilitate an actual conversation, like with Stan. He'd distract Ford by completing non-"get-in-the-house"-type activities that still act as mood improvers, like dragging Ford's grave back onto the property [please visualize with me Ford sitting in the passenger's seat of Soos's beat-up truck, seething and drooling and looking very much like a vampire about to maul someone, and Soos is just cheerily hitching the Stan O' War up to his truck, whistling as he sits in the driver's seat and tugs it out of the woods again, covered in like. Broken branches and leaf detritus and such]. Ford and Soos wouldn't be as close as Stan and Soos are in regular BSB, so there's also the afforded protection of "not technically family" that would keep Ford from feeling entitled to Soos' blood like he does Stan's. Ford learns the "brother ≠ juicebox" lesson by focusing on his intellect during this extremely trying time and thinking through the "why the hell are my niece and nephew so afraid of me when I haven't done anything wrong" logic train. [Overcompensation time, yayyy! His vocabulary becomes 50% long-winded apologies to his brother. Stan's constant, "It's Literally Okay, Don't Worry About It" placations don't improve this, because he's been saying that for years and he was obviously lying! It takes Stan admitting that maybe it did kinda sorta suck (ha) for him as a dude under heavy vampiric thrall for like 40 years for Ford to accept that he means it when he says, "don't worry"]

If there's no Soos, Ford's stuck outside until Stan is able to muster enough energy to get up, get downstairs, and let him in himself. Ford also learns the lesson here, but more dramatically, because Stan's getting to that door looking like he's a deep breath from keeling over while Dipper and Mabel are screaming and crying and trying to drag him backwards so he can't go outside. Maybe Stan collapses as he's opening the door but before he can let Ford in again verbally, and Ford has to stand outside, furious and terrified because his brother isn't getting up or talking, and his niece and nephew are pointing weapons at him, and this isn't how things are supposed to go!!! He was supposed to have a good summer where he showed them the wonders of Gravity Falls, and all the cool weird things there were!! And they were supposed to be impressed by it, and think he was cool, and want to hang out with him and learn more! But they're scared of him. They think he's dangerous. And- and maybe he is. Oh, god, he is dangerous. Look at his brother- look at what he did to his brother!

And then maybe he runs off and Stan has to give Dipper and Mabel the low-down on the situation by himself once he's well enough to talk to them, and then the three of them have to go and find Ford who's reached the "overcompensating" stage of "This is My Uh-Oh Whoopsie" and is probably sitting in a dark cave, writing in his journal about how much of an irredeemable monster he is, how blind he was, and how obviously the only way for him to make up for this transgression is to 1) find and slay the other vampire that's been eating the townsfolk and 2) Never Ever Go Back Home, Ever. [it's ok, they bring him home]

[caninescreations]

I feel like the natural progression in Reverse Bsb, if Stan lives, is that Fiddleford is going to become a vampire hunter to save his poor afflicted roommate

Haha, that would be WILD, wouldn't it? Anyways, I've got to get this stock pot full of unidentifiable chunks down to my kitchen to finish cooking- OH GOD. OH IT'S BEEN SPILLED ALL OVER THE FLOOR. OH NO. OH JESUS, THE W.I.P., IT'S EVERYWHERE--

Condemnant Quod Non Intellegunt

"Sweet sarsaparilla, Stanley, you're still at it?" Fiddleford gaped as he returned to their shared dorm, struggling to get the mesh net of clothes he had through the narrow door. "It's Saturday night, and you've been up since five. Did you even go outside at all today?"

The pile of books stacked all around the desk piped up with a, "Don't get your shorts in a twist about it. I'm uh, stayin' ahead of the curve, that's all. I can't get lazy."

"'Lazy', says the guy who's collectin' extra credit assignments like they're commemorative coins."

"I need all the help I can get with this nerd shit," was the responding grumble. "These professors got way too much time on their hands if they're making bear traps like this for poor, innocent brains like mine."

"Maybe it seems that hard 'cause your poor, 'innocent' brain needs a break." He grunted as he got the bag through, passed the mound of blankets that constituted the person sitting at the desk, then used the momentum to swing it up onto his bed. "I hear there's some kinda craft market opening up downtown tomorrow. I think they're raising funds for a local church? They're gonna have games and little sales booths and things like that. Could be a lot of fun!"

"Sounds like a bunch of grandmas tryna get rid of their extra quilts for a quick buck. Pass." There was a small snap, another grumble, then the sound of pencil shavings hitting the desk.

"Y'know, sometimes I wonder if you even know the definition of 'relaxing'. Man wasn't meant to work every single day."

"Yeah? well, man wasn't meant to go to space, but we still got a guy on the moon anyhow."

"I'm just worried 'bout you flying so close t' the sun, is all, with all that work you've been putting in," Fiddleford said, tossing his clean laundry haphazardly into the bottom drawer of his dresser. "You don't wanna end up like Icarus."

At the desk, Stan was struggling to stay awake above the comfortable-looking pillow of worksheets and open textbooks, even as he let out an exhausted chuckle. "The problem with Icarus ain't that he went and got himself burnt- he drowned in the ocean. Unlike him, I'm smart enough to know how to swim."

===

The beat of his heart was a jackhammer against the fragile bones of his ribcage. Fiddleford gasped wildly as he dragged Stanley's limp body up the slope of the steep riverbank, the heels of his boots struggling to find purchase in the slick muck.

"C'mon, c'mon, c'mon," he chanted, chin tucked over the other's shoulders, both arms curled under Stanley's pits to keep him from sliding back down. Underneath the stench of the polluted water, he could still smell the blood that trickled from two little pricks in his friend's carotid artery. But despite all of that, the vast share of his attentions were spent on the opposite side of the water. In the darkness, there was a figure staring at him. Its eyes burned fire-red, its teeth were long and sharp, and its face was twisted into a horrendous snarl as it paced back and forth like a hungry lion lashing its tail.

Thank god it couldn't cross the river. And with dawn so close, it would have to ditch its pursuit or get burned to a crisp with the sun. Or, he was hoping it would get burned to a crisp with the sun. It drank blood, and didn't have a reflection, and only got inside their dorm because Fiddleford had let it in thinking it was Stanley's brother. And if it walked like a duck and talked like a duck…

But those thoughts were scattered in his mind like dry leaves by a harsh wind, too difficult to collect with all the other things he was trying to keep track of. Like making sure Stanley wasn't going to die of blood loss, or praying that the undead thing that used to be his roommate's brother wouldn't find a way across before the dawn broke.

Fiddleford shivered and clutched Stanley a little closer, tripping backwards and landing with a wet splat into the mud. He'd come to college to get an education, not find proof that the vile undead was real. Was he going to have to become a vampire hunter? That sounded terrifying. He wasn't a fighter- he was just some hick from Tennessee who got a little too big from his britches and thought he could make it in a big-city school. He couldn't risk his life hunting monsters in the dark like some kind of hero.

Stanley let out a quiet groan, and Fiddleford was shaken from his thoughts.

It wasn't just his life at risk, though, was it? He had a friend. One who needed help, who was maybe under a vampire's control and maybe had been for a long time. And Stanley, Stanley had had his back from the first day of classes. Had slipped into their shared dorm (while Fiddleford was contemplating packing his things), decrying their classmates for throwing away an idea before it had a chance to flourish. Had sat up through not just one, but three nights with him, letting him bounce ideas back and forth until he'd worked through his theory, had made it airtight from hours and hours of keen-eyed questions and the brazen, unearned confidence of a man who literally had not known the meaning of the term "onus of proof". Stanley had believed in him before he knew he could believe in himself.

He couldn't abandon someone like that. Not for anything.

Fiddleford raised his head, arms taut around Stanley's ribcage like a seatbelt, and met the monster's gaze.

"You can't hurt him now, you evil creature!" he cried. "I won't let you! I'll find a way to stop you once and for all!" The lightening sky around them cut through the thin fog of early-morning twilight, slowly dragging the darkness back. The vampire stared him with venom in its eyes, but the first rays of dawn had it slowly, reluctantly stepping back, until its form faded into the mists around it and Fiddleford was left blessedly alone.

In the tenuous peace, he wondered if he'd bitten off more than he could chew.

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

you know, ford wasn't sure about the vampire thing at first but it's really working out for him! he's a cool supernatural creature and his brother is finally putting a little effort into his studies and they're gonna get to the top of the world and nothing bad is ever going to happen and stan is going to Make Up For His Mistakes No Matter What, just like he promised, and ford's going to Help Him because he's Such a Good Brother

Oh god, even Stan's sense of style is being affected :( ford!! Ford you're mangling Stan's personality! Stan can't express himself or do what he wants anymore! Ford!

Oh no he can't hear me, he's convinced himself this is totally normal and everything is fine because Stan said so.

[armagreggon]

Team Spitphya before our winning run!