#reverse portal

[dartann]

Breather

Welcome home:D

Ford takes a nap

Reverse portal? I wanted to try out a new brush and then i got waaaaay too carried away

And yes this is an excuse to draw Stans belly peaking out!

[seamstriss]

@nowimjustastranger I have returned with a sequel snippet! I hope you don't mind! (I was unsure how to convey how Watchdog sees into the future, I hope you don't mind how I did it)

Content warning for horror and violence

There once was a boy that called himself Stanford Pines, he lived as ordinary a life as one could, the only thing marking him an outsider was that extra finger on his hands. But that was okay because there was always a five fingered hand waiting to uplift him. There once was a boy that called himself Stanford Pines, and without question he loved his twin Stanley Pines. His love was called into question when that ordinary life was shattered by the sledgehammer of betrayal. He was already feeling too out of place for his ordinary life and was dreaming of bigger things, things that might not have included his twin, and when that final crack separated them, they parted ways. (Never once did he think it would be forever, even at his angriest the idea of forever separated, of not being whole, never occurred to him).

There once was a man that called himself Stanford Pines, but that man reforged himself, he took his broken heart and clad it in iron will, he took his body and cemented it with purpose. He rose from the anvil a predator, and now he is on the hunt.

It took a few days before Watchdog felt the Stanley of Y'32/ was well enough to be relocated. It only took another day to find a Stanford. It hasn't been easy to convince Stanley that the relocation was safe, that if anything happened Watchdog would return in a heart beat.

The Stanford he found had lost his Stanley in a research expedition cataloging anomalies. A simple excursion turned into the worst possible outcome and that Stanley paid the ultimate price. The Stanford of that dimension gave up field work and turned to a quiet life of teaching. It was a happy reunion, and Watchdog felt confident that he would not be returning.

Now he had other business to attend to. Mr. Mystery's final message had been weighing on him and he felt the pressing need to make sure that the unknown Stanley variant that warned him was safe. More than that, there was a snarling beast rattling in his chest, and he felt its claws rake across his ribs because how dare. How dare Stanford Pines hurt his twin.

Watchdog made his way through the facility with greater ease than before. His feet taking him down a path he hadn't traveled in person yet but that his mind already knew. He came to room and knew before he even opened the door who was on the other side.

"I knew you'd come back."

There once was a boy that people called Stanford Pines and he resented his ordinary life. They proclaimed him an outsider due to that extra finger on his hands and refused to accept him. It was made worse by the five fingered hand in his, a hand attached to a boy that smiled at him and called to him with feeling. They couldn't see that he was born better than them all. He at first he thought he loved his brother, but he learned that it wasn't worth loving the people beneath him. He wasn't betrayed, he just walked away from them all promising that they would either recognize his greatness or suffer under it. He thought that separation would be forever, until he realized he could use that connection to reach beyond his own world.

There was a man who wanted the world to know that his name was Stanford Pines. He bent that world to his whims in the name of improvement. They should all be better versions of themselves he promised, but he made sure they knew that no one could be better than him. He rose to a pedestal and called himself a god, but in the streets they whispered his true name. A B O M I N A T I O N.

"He told me you wouldn't but I knew," Stanford smiled at him and it was too wide, and it showed off his too sharp teeth, "I knew you'd come back."

A younger Watchdog would have already lunged, but he knew that's what Stanford wanted. The eyes of a man who sees the future are discerning indeed, but the eyes of a man that only beholds himself will never see possibility. A man who knows himself will never be his own enemy, and Watchdog knows. He knows.

"Don't you want to know how I know?" Stanford's grin never wavered, it painted his face like a scar.

(W r o N g) His senses were on edge but he was ready.

"DON'T YOU WANT TO KNOW!?" Stanford screamed, his face contorting over that scarred smile. His voice thundered over the taut tense air like shards of glass.

"Their worthless blood calls to you," he said softly, unnecessarily adjusting his crisp white lab coat. It brought Watchdog's eyes to the blood staining the cuffs and Stanford tilts his head knowingly.

Watchdog remains silent. (Silence is power, he remembers his Ma saying once, Sometimes being quiet means you can hear what they're not saying).

"I'm not mad at you, no, no, I could never be mad at you," Stanford takes a step, "You're more like me than the rest of them," he takes another step and now Watchdog can see the heap behind him, "but you're wasting your time," Stanford sings. "There's more to life than being dragg-"

Watchdog pounces. He brings a dagger to Stanford's throat and he screams in gleeful laughter.

I won't stop, thinks one.

Stanford scuttles back but Watchdog has already done this dance.

I can't be stopped, thinks the other.

He moves left because he already knew about the syringe in Stanford's right hand, waiting to plunge down into his leg. (He's seen it before).

He turns on his heel and snaps, wrapping his hand around Stanford's neck because he knows if he doesn't stop this fight now, Stanford will pull a gun from his holster. (He's seen it before).

With all his might he slams Stanford into the ground, keeping that hand wrapped around his neck. And he presses.

Stanford never stops laughing even as he chokes and squirms.

Even as he's gasping for air, he finds some space in between to giggle.

(He's seen it before but it still feels wrong).

It was a better wrong.

Stanford Pines dies with a smile marring his face and a wicked gleam in his oddly colored eyes. He is no longer Watchdog's concern and he moves to the heap in the corner wearing a dusty brown jacket.

(He hadn't seen this).

"Stanley!" He says his brother's name with more force than he usually would have but when his hands reach to check him over, to see if he's breathing, he feels a sharp bite at his ankle and jolts back.

There's a backpack whose zippers became teeth, and it's growling at him. It's deep and throaty, and the don't come near warning prickles at him.

Watchdog can't help the low whine he makes, the animalistic churring plea. He wants to help. Please.

"Jan," he mumbles and the backpack makes a soft cooing noise, some of the teeth retracting but Watchdog can feel it's wariness. He hopes it won't bite him again as he leans down and taps Mr. Mystery's face.

His uncovered face is bruised and filthy,

"She fell through the stars," Mr. Mystery coughs, his eyes are open and wide with fright and he grips Watchdog's wrist with surprising strength, "she…he…they fell through the stars," he says again. Watchdog is quick to take off his helmet.

"Stanley, you're not making any sense."

Mr. Mystery's eyes find his, "She will cry for him. You…you have to tell her if something happens to him."

"Stan… who are you talking about?"

"The…the girl," he tries to sit up and bites back a scream of pain, "the one who fell through the stars!" he says through gasps.

"Stop moving! Your leg…" his left leg is a mangled mess (he is glad Stanford Pines is dead).

"Jan…Jan you have to…give it," Watchdog has to press Mr. Mystery's shoulders down to get him to stop trying to sit up. There's a soft warbling noise and then a thunk and Watchdog spares a moment to turn and look.

The backpack spat up a Journal. The ostentatious thing gleams in the light. He quickly adds it to his pockets and focuses on helping Stanley.

He is always his first priority.

Notes From the Journal of Doctor Stanford Pines

Established positive communique in Dimension TgN3)/

Established positive communique in Dimension G2@4/

Failed to contact Dimension [illegible] and in researching the Ford variant I only found a piteous puppet that 'turned a new leaf'. What pathetic nonsense to fall for such frivolities as love

Established positive communique in Dimension M<9$/

[MISSING PAGES]

*** The experiment was a success! Stanley was the key to the code I needed to be better. I will be unstoppable. I will be unending. I will be FOREVER.

MANGY MUTT, ARE YOU SURE IT WAS ME YOU KILLED :)

[dark-lord-of-awesomeness]

is there any kind of an reverse portal au where Stan is stuck for 30 years? Or Ford just decides to leave him there?

like it’s super out of character for Ford, but that just makes it a little fun to try and come up with reasons that stop him.

I mean, yes in that there are au's like that out there, no in that I don't have any au's following that premise.

( @artistredfox has a great one you should check out HERE. Its so sad it makes my heart hurt in a good way. Also ask em about any recs ey might have, as their way better at archiving then I am)

I do agree it is very out of character, and I am of the belief that he would only leave Stan if he thought for sure Stan was dead, or wad prevented from reactivating the portal by a third party (jail, Fiddleford, etc). Again, I personally don't have any reverse portals floating around, but they are out there!

(If anyone has any other recs feel free to list them)

[artistredfox]

More gravity falls doodles I havent posted here yet

[mysteryhackin]

Stanuary 2025 Week 1: Mindscape

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

HAPPY STANUARY!!! Here is my (slightly belated) entry for @stanuary Week 1: Mindscape! It's a continuation of my take on the "Stan Went Through the Portal Instead of Ford" AU. Enjoy!

Even though he was happy to be home after 30 years of traveling the multiverse, Stan Pines knows he needs to go back through the portal to finally kill Bill Cipher. It's not like there's a place for him anyway. But the night before he was going to go back, his old nemesis Bill visits him in a dream, telling him about a few things he's been up to...

The night that Ford fixed the portal so Stan could go back through saw a quiet and somber dinner, which was a complete contrast to the raucous and fun meals of the past week.  Despite his attempt to stay aloof and angry, Stan couldn’t help but grow closer to his great niece and nephew, not to mention his brother’s two employees, meaning most of the nights were full of stories and jokes while Ford toiled downstairs to once more get the portal up and running.  This was the first time Ford had joined the group for dinner, and it was… awkward.  It was no wonder though- Ford was just as eager for Stan to go back through the portal as Stan was.

At least, that’s what Stan kept telling himself during the silence.

Finally, Mabel’s voice broke through the quiet.  “Grunkle Stan, are you sure you have to go back?”

Stan had barely opened his mouth to answer when Ford cut in smoothly.  “Mabel, we talked about this,” he said firmly, but with tenderness in his voice.  “Stanley needs to leave as soon as he can.”

Stan was slightly taken aback by how quickly Ford had answered, but immediately pushed away the sting. 

“But-” Dipper interjected.

“Dipper…” Ford said in a tired tone of voice.

“Oh c’mon kids, he’s right.” Stan said, but couldn’t think of any way to make it better. The quiet resumed, only broken by the miserable scraping of utensils on plates.

Stan wanted to go back.  Of course he did.  He had to finally kill Bill Cipher, after all.  And not like there was anything for him here. Yes, he had a great week with his family- the word felt so odd yet so right to Stan- but he had been gone for 30 years.  Ford obviously didn’t need him or want him around.  Sure, Ford had brought Stan back as soon as he realized Stan was alive, and sure, Ford had kept Stan’s El Diablo up and running even though he didn’t think Stan was coming back, but… it was all out of guilt or pity. It must have been. If Ford wanted Stan to stay he would have said something.  But just like when Stan got kicked out, Ford didn’t say anything, and far be it for Stan to insert himself where he wasn’t wanted.

He didn’t fit anywhere, especially with Ford. Not anymore.  So he might as well do something interesting with his nomad status.

Like destroying Bill Cipher once and for all.

Stan was sitting at the poker table at his favorite Vegas casino, and with a giant grin placed his cards on the table so everyone could see.  “Royal Flush,” he said, as the crowd around the table applauded and a beautiful brunette woman gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Oh c’mon, guys, he’s obviously cheating,” a familiar voice with a strange echo interrupted the celebrations, and Stan’s expression changed from smug triumph to the most annoyed eye roll ever.

“Are you kidding me?” he muttered, turning to face the glowing yellow triangle behind him.

“Heya Fishy, what’s good?” Bill answered nonchalantly as the casino patrons slowly faded away.

“What are you doing here, you three-sided creep?”  Stan asked tiredly.  “I thought Jhes made it so you couldn’t bug me anymore.”

“Ol’ Seven Eyes hid the entrance to your mindscape pretty good, yeah,” Bill admitted.  “But when you came to visit me in the nightmare realm last week I was able to lock back on to you!”

“Figures,” Stan sighed.  “An’ I was havin’ such a nice time.”

“Oh please,” Bill said.  “Don’t you miss me?  Fighting my minions, overthrowing my planets, hunting me down?”

Stan leaned back nonchalantly.  “I haven’t thought about you at all this whole time,” he lied.  “What’s it to you?”

“Well, considering you spent the last 30ish years trying to kill me, you think I’d want to know what you’re up to now, you know?”  Even though Bill was playing it casual, Stan could tell he was already starting to get under the demon’s skin.  Perfect.

Stan may have unsuccessfully hunted Bill for 30 years, but one thing he could always count on being successful at was being annoying.  He had met plenty of losers like Bill Cipher before going through the portal while he was on the road- jumped up, so-called “leaders” who just had really big egos and some luck to make people afraid of them.  The best way to deal with them was to act like they didn’t matter.

Stan shrugged.  “I guess,” he answered.  “Now will you let me get back to my poker game?  I’m pretty sure the gal that just gave me a kiss was Miss Nevada or somethin’.”

Bill’s yellow turned slightly orange for a bit, as if he was about to lose his temper, but in a millisecond he was back to the yellow glow.  “But we haven’t had the chance to talk in so long!” Bill said.  “And I want your opinion on a decision.” 

Stan snorted.  “I’ll give ya the advice I always do- go screw yourself.” 

Bill laughed and leaned on nothing in the air.  “Don’t you want to know what it’s about?”  Bill snapped his fingers, and suddenly looked exactly like Stan but with glowing yellow eyes. “Oh yeah Bill!” he said in an over exaggerated impression of Stan.  “My boring life of doing boring things talking to boring people would improve so much just by to talking to someone as powerful as you!”

“Heh, that’s the best I’ve ever seen you look!” Stan laughed, not willing to let Bill know how unsettling it was to see himself with those eyes.  “Much better than that Mr. Peanut getup you usually sport.”  Stan leaned back in his chair.  “Hey, that reminds me, there’s somethin’ I always wanted to ask you- I know you can’t help lookin’ like a corn chip in real life, but if you can look like however you want in the mindscape, why do you always pick that dumb triangle shape?”

“Who says I do?” Bill asked calmly, this time his voice a perfect copy of Stan’s.

A chill ran down Stan’s spine as he realized what was Bill was implying.  “What… have you... been doing?” he growled, trying to keep the fear out of his voice and instead sound menacing.

Bill, still looking like Stan, gave him a slow, manic grin.  “It’s been real great getting to know the family this week, hasn’t it?” He asked conversationally in his normal voice.  “And wouldn’t you know it, Stanley, they just love you.  The little shooting star girl just wants you and your brother to make up.  She thinks I’m you when I visit her dreams, and we talk about how she can get you to stay and not go through the portal.  Or that big guy with the question mark shirt- your brother’s lab assistant?  He doesn’t want you to go either.  And man, is he eager to impress you- every time I visit him in his dreams he just goes on and on about helping Sixer create that barrier that prevents other beings from coming through the portal- he’s given me some great pointers on how to disable it.”

Stan’s fists were balled up in rage, and he noticed his dream self was now wearing his spiked brass knuckles.  He shook his head in denial.  “You can’t lie to people in the mindscape.  They don’t think you’re me.” He said through clenched teeth.

Bill laughed, the cackling sound making Stan use every ounce of self-control he had to not attack the demon.  “You of all people know you don’t have to lie to get people to believe whatever you want!” he said.  “And we’re in the mindscape right now- I can’t lie to you about what I’ve done- or what I’m doing.”  Bill continued.  “Of course, we got the ice-cold redhead who would do anything to get out of this sleepy town, and what better way than to go on a multiversal adventure?  I told her you probably could use a sidekick, especially after she helped you steal some of that junk to help get the portal up and running again.  And let’s not forget the littlest pine tree!  So desperate to prove that he’s smarter than everyone else, thinking that’s the only way he’ll be respected- just like your brother!” Bill took a deep, satisfied breath.  “And just like Sixer, he is sooo easy to manipulate, especially after I told him-” but Stan never found out what Bill told Dipper, because he cut the demon off with the most powerful uppercut he had ever punched, knocking his doppelganger right off his feet.

“Leave my family alone, you creep,” Stan said, walking up to Bill.  “An’ don’t think that form is gonna prevent me from beatin’ you to a pulp in here- I could use a coupla punches to the face.”

Bill-as-Stan propped himself up on his elbows, using one hand to rub his jaw, still wearing that insane smile.  “What about this one then?” he asked, and morphed into

Ford.

Stan literally took a step back in shock and horror, as Bill stood up, the manic expression the same as he rolled his neck.  “Feels good to be back like this again!” Bill said, his yellow eyes boring into Stan’s.  “Too bad Sixer figured out how to block me from his head- I had such a good time in there!” he paused, clearly relishing Stan’s expression of rage.  “But we’ve talked about that, haven’t we?  Ever since you came hurtling through that portal, we’ve been talking about your brother.” Bill rolled his eyes.  “And now you’re finally reunited with him- and he doesn’t even want you here!  After all you’ve done for him!  I mean, you distracted me long enough he could figure out how to block me!  When you found out the multiverse thought he was in cahoots with me, you sacrificed your own identity to pretend to be him during your, ugh,” Bill paused to use Ford’s six fingered hands to create disgusted air quotes “’heroic exploits’ so you could clear his name.”

Stan felt a little more sure-footed at that.  “They were heroic,” he smirked, crossing his arms.  “Freeing the worlds you had under your thumb, getting rid of a bunch of your henchmen- and no, I’m never gonna call ‘em henchmaniacs, ‘cause that’s stupid- and so what if everyone thinks it was Ford that did all that?  He would have done it if he were in my place.”  Stan snorted.  “If the nerd could even survive.”

“Are you sure about that?” Bill asked.  “All this is his fault, after all.  And when you think about it, that means it’s really your fault.  You want to know the reason he was so easy to get to?  He had a giant Stanley-shaped hole he was constantly trying to fill.  And you left it empty when you left him.”

“I got kicked out!” Stan protested, a little too quickly to seem like he was still in control of his emotions.

“And you didn’t even try to come back.” Bill shook his head in mock seriousness.  “You left him, Stanley.  Left him all alone, at the mercy of bullies, the world…” he flashed a huge smile.  “And me.”

For the first time in 30 years, Stan was speechless in the face of Bill Cipher.

“Oh yeah, that brings me back to my decision- who should I get to sabotage the portal?” Bill said, still never losing that too-wide smile.  “You think you’re using it to come back to the Nightmare Realm tomorrow- you’re wrong.  With the help of one of your family members, I’m coming to you instead, Stanley Pines.”

Stan barked a laugh, the threat helping him regain his faculties.  “Joke’s on you, Bill!  You spent this whole time braggin’ about how smart you are trying to prep someone to mess with the portal so you could go through- but now I know your plan!  No one’s going to mess with the portal to allow you… to…” Stan trailed off as Bill’s grin somehow grew wider.

“Y’know, the funny thing about not being able to lie in the mindscape doesn’t mean you can’t mislead someone,” Bill said.  “I didn’t really care about your opinion on who I should get to sabotage the portal- - any one of them could have done it because of you and what you’ve done to them! But anyway, I already decided who it was, and they’ve already done it.    Now I’m just waiting for the portal to finish warming up!  Oh, just kidding-”  And Bill morphed once more into his yellow triangle form.  “It’s finished now!” He lifted his hat.  “It’ll be great to see you in a few seconds, Fish.  Thanks for the keeping me entertained while I waited!”

Stan bolted awake, already halfway to his door before he realized it.  The house was shaking, so when he ran into Ford in the hallway, they lost their balance and fell to the ground.  Stan bounded back up and automatically reached out his hand to help up his brother, but the conversation with Bill about how Stan was to blame came blaring back and seemed to crystalize the moment.  He froze, a look of horror on his face as he looked at his brother and felt the weight of everything he had ever done, all leading up to this moment.

“Stanley?” Ford asked worriedly, bracing a hand against the wall to keep from falling over during a particularly strong tremor.  “What is it?”

“Bill.” Stan whispered.  “He’s here.”

And it was all Stan’s fault.    

[no-strana]

After the loss of his eye and a 12h Bill-less sleep Ford finally has enough clarity of mind to understand that his lonely hero approach isn’t the best course of action. With Stan allegedly forever lost in the multiverse Ford does the most sensible thing and attempts to contact Fiddleford, which - as we all know too well - is unfortunately lost in his cult business.

After lying shamelessy to Mrs McGucket about their “mild disagreement” on the portal Ford starts looking for Fiddleford and finds the Society of the Blind Eye. Or it’s the Society that finds him first?

Now, if you’re tempted to ask what happens next… my notes say that the situation is resolved via the POWER OF FRIENDSHIP (all capslock, yes) and no, I didn’t elaborate further on that.

Also, I think this barely qualify as a comic and it’s basically a mess with scribbled text. I’m still insanely proud of it.

[kingofthecon]

//Reverse Portal//

When he was a child he'd always dreamed of leavin' Jersey behind and going sailing with his brother. It was supposed to be the two of them against the world. Along the way that apparently got lost in translation and, well...let's just say he was forced into a solo adventure where fighting for his life was a constant struggle. This life chisled that pudgy kid from Jersey into a hardened criminal - wanted across multiple dimensions for crimes that he admitted for the soul purpose of his survival. He was constantly watching over his shoulder, constantly sleeping with one eye open. Sometimes there were reprieves...like now. He had been running (as per usual), when one of those unstable dimensional rifts that seemed to follow him around and pop up when they wanted to...POPPED UP WHEN IT WANTED TO, right in front of him. Not one to question his luck or misfortune, he picked up his speed and slid through it like a runner to home plate. He hissed as something clipped his right shoulder, but chose not to retaliate and head for the barricade he'd spotted in the darkened corner of what he assumed was some sort storage room? Could have even been a basement? What?  He gripped his shoulder as he rolled behind cover. He checked his weapons - a rifle of some sort - and peeked from behind cover only to see the rift was no longer there. He inhaled deeply, ignoring the pain and discomfort he found himself to survey his surroundings. 

[dartann]

Oops

Breather

Ford takes a nap

Is this even understandable??? I know i drew kinda shitty but honestly i just wanted the idea out from my head