This Is Stanford “Exo” Pines From My Half Baked Au Called Exo-Archivist So Far Its About Stanford

Sweater town

Childhood Bites Chapter Two: The Hunt

⚠️TW: Blood, violence, implied abuse⚠️

꒦꒷꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒦꒰ঌ‪‪𐂯‬໒꒱꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒷꒦

Zeke didn’t sleep that night.

He lay in bed, staring at the cracked ceiling of his family’s rundown beach house. The air inside was thick with the stench of alcohol and cigarettes, the walls too thin to block out his father’s snores from the other room.

His stomach twisted in pain, but he was used to that.

His father’s latest punishment had been a week without food.

Zeke had learned how to ignore the ache, how to push through it. But today, it was worse. Because now, he knew what could make it stop.

His tongue ran over his teeth, the memory of Campelter’s blood still fresh in his mind.

It had been a mistake. An accident. A loss of control.

That’s what he told himself.

The taste hadn’t disgusted him.

It had made him hungry.

He turned onto his side, gripping the old blanket tighter, trying to will the feeling away.

I won’t do it again.

He repeated the thought like a prayer.

I won’t. I won’t. I won’t.

But his stomach growled. His hands trembled. And in the darkness, his eyes flicked toward the corner of the room, where his father’s metal bat leaned against the wall.

The same bat his old man had used on him. Dried blood stained the tip. His own blood.

It had always belonged to his father. A tool of punishment. A reminder of Zeke’s place in the house.

But not tonight.

Tonight, it was his.

The Boathouse

Zeke walked the empty streets of Glass Shard Beach, the bat gripped tight in his hands.

The town was quiet this late at night, only the occasional streetlight flickering. The summer crowd had thinned out, leaving only the locals.

Leaving kids like Campelter free to roam.

Zeke knew exactly where he’d be. The old boathouse near the dunes wasn’t much—just a crumbling shack covered in graffiti—but it was where the older kids went to drink and mess around.

That’s where Zeke found him.

Campelter sat on the dock outside, flipping a lighter open and closed, the flame reflecting in his bored expression. His friends were long gone, leaving him alone.

Perfect.

Zeke stood in the shadows, watching. His heart pounded.

He could still turn back.

He could go home. Forget this. Try to be normal.

But then Campelter shifted, his injured arm catching the moonlight.

The same arm Zeke had bitten.

And just like that, the hunger roared back to life.

His grip on the bat tightened.

Campelter sighed, shaking his head. “I know you’re there, freak.”

Zeke stepped forward, the wooden planks creaking under his weight.

Campelter rolled his eyes. “What do you want?”

Zeke’s voice came out quiet. “I don’t know.”

Another lie.

Campelter scoffed. “You here to try and bite me again? Jesus, dude, what is wrong with you?”

Zeke didn’t answer.

His body moved on instinct, stepping closer, closing the distance. The bat in his hand felt heavy. Solid.

Campelter frowned, finally looking at him—really looking at him.

Something in his expression changed.

“…Wait. Are you serious right now?”

Zeke’s breath came faster. The hunger clawed at his insides.

Just go home.

Just walk away.

But his father’s voice echoed in his head.

“You’re nothing. You don’t fight back. You don’t stand up for yourself.”

Zeke’s fingers twitched on the bat.

“You’re weak.”

His jaw clenched.

“You’re always gonna be hungry.”

Zeke swung.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

To Be Continued…

Crimson Collapse- the story behind Bakon’s scars

Trigger warning: gore and mentions of death

Setting: a few days before Stanford reached out to Stan.

(Old artwork at the end)

The job should have been simple—a quick in-and-out heist in a crumbling old building said to house a fortune in abandoned goods. Bakon and his crew had scoped the place out for weeks, but on that fateful night, things fell apart in the worst way imaginable. The building, far more unstable than they had planned for, became a death trap.

The air inside was heavy with the stench of mildew and decay, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the silence. Bakon moved cautiously, his flashlight flickering against the cracked plaster walls and rusted pipes that jutted out like jagged teeth. He could feel the structure groaning under its own weight, the faint tremor of instability rippling through the floor beneath his boots.

Then it happened.

The ceiling gave way in an instant, unleashing a hellish cacophony of splintering wood and screeching metal. Bakon didn’t even have time to scream. A massive beam crashed down, driving him to the ground as his legs folded unnaturally beneath him with a sickening snap. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, and he let out a ragged gasp as sharp debris rained down, tearing into his flesh. A jagged piece of rusted rebar impaled him clean through the abdomen, bursting out of his back with a wet, nauseating sound.

The pain was beyond anything he had ever experienced—an excruciating, fiery agony that sent shockwaves through his entire body. Blood poured from the wound in heavy gushes, pooling beneath him in a sticky, crimson puddle. He tried to move, but the weight of the debris was crushing him. His ribs bent unnaturally inward, cracked and splintered like broken glass stabbing into his lungs.

Bakon’s cries for help were hoarse and broken, each breath a struggle as blood filled his mouth. His flashlight had fallen to the ground, illuminating his twisted, mangled body in cruel detail. He could see the jagged bone of his shin protruding through torn flesh, the white stark against the red. His hands, trembling and pale, weakly clawed at the rubble pinning him down, but it was no use.

Minutes dragged into hours, and Bakon’s screams turned to whimpers, then silence. The blood loss was making him lightheaded, his vision darkening at the edges as he slipped in and out of consciousness. The cold, metallic tang of blood filled his mouth as he coughed weakly, spitting out a thick, congealed glob that stained the ground beside him.

He called for the others—desperate, pleading cries that echoed through the empty corridors—but no one came. His crew had abandoned him, fleeing the moment the collapse started. Even Stanley, the one person he trusted, was nowhere to be found. Alone in the suffocating darkness, Bakon’s thoughts grew frantic. Anguish and rage churned within him, mixing with the raw, primal terror of death creeping closer.

When they finally found him, Bakon was barely alive. His skin was pale and waxy, his lips blue, and his body convulsed weakly as his pulse flickered on the edge of nothingness. They rushed him to the hospital, the paramedics’ voices a distant murmur in his ears. He could feel their hands on him, the searing pain as they moved the rebar from his side, and the choking sensation of a tube being shoved down his throat.

In the operating room, his body gave out. His heart stopped, and for over an hour, Bakon was dead.

Death was not a peaceful void for him. It was cold, dark, and suffocating. Time warped, stretching into an infinite expanse of emptiness where Bakon felt the weight of his failures crushing him all over again. The silence was maddening, his own thoughts clawing at him like feral beasts. He was utterly alone, trapped in a limbo that felt like an eternity.

And then, against all odds, he was pulled back.

When Bakon woke, his body was a patchwork of scars and pain. Tubes snaked out of his arms, his chest, his throat. His legs were in heavy casts, and every shallow breath sent a sharp, burning pain through his shattered ribs. His face was gaunt, pale, and his sunken eyes stared blankly at the hospital ceiling.

The weeks that followed were a nightmare of their own. The physical therapy was brutal, each session leaving him sobbing in pain. His hands trembled as he tried to grasp a spoon, the simplest tasks requiring monumental effort. The rebar had shredded vital nerves, leaving parts of his body unresponsive, numb yet searing with phantom pain.

Worse still was the isolation. No one came to see him. He lay in that sterile room day after day, the hum of machines his only company. He thought of Stanley often, the bitterness festering in his chest. Stanley had abandoned him, left him to die, and now Bakon was trapped in this ruined shell of a body with nothing but his anger to keep him going.

Months later, when he finally left the hospital, Bakon was unrecognizable. His once-proud posture was hunched, his gait stiff and uneven as he limped out into the world. The scars on his face and body told the story of his suffering in jagged lines, and his eyes were cold, hollow, and filled with a simmering hatred.

Bakon had been given a second chance at life, but to him, it was no gift. It was a curse. And as he walked into the cold night, his mind turned dark with thoughts of vengeance. If the world had left him to rot, he would return the favor tenfold. And Stanley… Stanley the young man he loved will pay the price for abandoning him.

Mullet Stan my beloved~

AAAAAAHHHH!!! Im loving this man it’s great!

Now just imagine Stanford is unlucky enough to find a dimension of Stanley’s like Mabel did in Gravity Falls: Lost Legends

You would think it would be a dream come true for Stanford but in reality all it does is make him question if it’s all real and that none of these Stanley’s are his Stan

Alright hear me out…just…J-JUST HEAR ME OUT!

What if Stanley Pines never existed and Stanford was an only child but to him he wasn’t to him he was born with a twin.

Allow me to elaborate

As long as Stanford could remember he always had a twin brother they did everything together Stanley protected him from bullies, comforted him, helped him with the Stan-O-War. Everything goes almost according to cannon but one thing is missing and thats Stanley because he is just a physical manifestation of Stanford’s imagination that means only Ford can see Stanley but he assumes everyone else can too, and well his parents didn’t see much to be concerned about a lot of kids Ford’s age had imaginary friends so they…mostly Caryn let her son believe while she forced Filbrick to also play along because Stanford is just a kid.

But everything comes to a head when the science fair rolls around and for once it wasn’t tampered with by any human anyway, but more along the lines of a rat chewing the wires but Stanford is admit that Stanley sabotaged his project but his twin brother so when he heads home madder then a hornet and excepting to see Stanley there but his brother is no where to be found so he tells his parents and well…lets just say Filbrick didn’t take the information well assuming that Stanford destroyed his own project and costing them potential millions, he decides to finally shatter Stanford’s whole world by telling him Stanley never existed.

Now Stanford is mad at his brother sure but even he thinks his father saying Stanley no longer exists is a bit harsh and argues with his father till Filbrick takes out a photo album and slams it open on the coffee table revealing a bunch of pictures which were supposed to be of Stanford and Stanley but something wasn’t right…

Stanford’s blood would run cold when he sees he is alone in every picture Stanley isn’t were he is supposed to be which can’t be right because he knows his brother was there he remembers everything they did together his father had to have tampered with the pictures!

Long story short Stanford is kicked out of the house he is no longer considered a Pines due to his stupidity as his father puts it.

Feel free to expand on this if you like, this all was just something i thought of during the night and just had to get it out there

This guy was a fun concept and i love him deeply his name is Bakonis Kerrigan he is…or was a close friend to Stanley when they were teenagers back when Stan was kicked out of the house they did heists together, conned many people, etc but one day after an accident that left Bakonis in the hospital hoping to have his best friend there for support Stan just vanished(that was when Stan got the letter from Stanford.) and left Bakon behind.

Here is teenage Bakonis before his accident he was your local drug dealer and at the time Stanley was his best customer it’s honestly how they met, now your probably wondering whats in the box well if you don’t pay up for the drugs or fulfill your end of the bargain you repay with your limbs mostly small things like your fingers, eyes, and teeth. Bakonis doesn’t play around when it comes to his jobs either pay him or lose a limb it’s your choice.

Anyways my asks are open feel free to ask this lovely gentleman many questions. :)

You can keep them if you like or do whatever im officially giving these guys to you to do with what you will, but im glad you like them! Oh and the cosmic snake is a girl while the bone serpent doesn’t really have a gender but will answer to whatever you call it.

And the bone serpent is about 15 foot long while the cosmic snake is about 6 foot long

Mmmmm you know what fuck it! *Gives Dee a red cosmic snake and Ronnie a bone serpent* have fun boys and take good care of them!

this is so cool!!!