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sashi-ya · 4 years ago

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{+18} – Cherry Blossom & Tangerines – Trafalgar Law x Y/n – Part 4

Modern AU. Trip to Jeju Island, SK. No spoilers.

Female reader. No physical descriptions. Everybody is +18, canon ages. Chopper is human.

Tw: NSFW, Bondage, soft sub/dom relationship. Fluff.

A/N: Everything included of Jeju Island is pure research. Excuse me in advance if there is something that’s not 100% accurate! Keep in mind is purely inspired ♥

The drawing was inspired on a draw base I found at Pinterest, I couldn't find the artist of the base, so if you know it please tell me ♥

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31059467

» List of parts: {P1} {P2} {P3} {P4} {P5} {P6}«

Word Count: 4.3K

Chapter 4

Outside, the storm was hitting really hard. The thunder sounds mixed with the waves going violent and some lightings sneaked through the little windows the beacon had. The temperature on the coast had lowered considerably, but inside our love nest, our skin began to heat more and more.

Law slid a hand through my thighs, and slowly lifted my dress. His warm hands traveled through my leg, feeling his fingers burying on my skin as he went up. I got his grey gaze fixed on my eyes; an almost perverse smile garnished his face.

He grabbed the inside of my thighs, firmly, almost violently. A piercing sight that screamed how he wanted to devour me showed on his eyes.

Law smirked, planted a kiss on my lips, and then whispered into my ear, “We haven’t discussed anything about kinks yet, right?”. I gasped, my breathing was already uncontrolled, but I managed to answer a strangle “We… didn’t”. What kinks does this man have?...

“Don’t be afraid, we are not doing anything you don’t want, ok?. I like, sometimes, to have control over others”, he said, and the ghosting breath over my neck and ear made my body squirm. “You do?”, I mumbled. “I do, almost as if you were entering my room… my operation room. Do you want to be controlled, Y/n-ya?”. Of course, I want to, I’ve been waiting for this, Law. “Yes… master? sir?” I asked, and made him aware that I was clearly into that type of sexual dynamics.

“Good…”, he said, now with a bigger smile and a burning eyes. “Stand up, and do as I say. If something makes you uncomfortable, please, tell me. Is that right?. Oh, and Sir it’s ok”, he ordered me.

“Yes, Sir”, I said as I got up from the pillows on the floor. He sat on a little single couch that was suspiciously placed just in front of the spot he had ordered me to stand on.

Law crossed his legs in the most seductive way, unbuttoned the first five buttons of his shirt and said, “Good, baby. Now, undress for me -slowly-”. He told me pointing at a specific spot next to the spiral staircase of the lighthouse.

I had decided to completely surrender to him, he was now, my master. I did as he said instantly. I took off my dress, sliding the soft fabric material over my sunburned skin. I was still in my swimsuit, and stopped for a minute wondering if I had to take that off too. “I love your bikini, but I want you completely naked for me”, he told me, turning his head to the side checking every inch of my skin, every curve.

When I was finally naked, he raised his right tattooed hand and marked me with his index finger to knelt in front of him. I did as he moved his finger, almost if he had some sort of power capable of moving my body.

He stood up, approached me and began to untie his swim shorts. I thought he was going to take the shorts off, but didn’t. He simply took the cord of them, and the shorts slowly became loosen and got lower enough to be stopped by his hip bones, but letting my eyes admire the little happy trail of hairs in the middle of his perfectly V shaped abs.

“Give me your hands”, he commanded me, looking down at me. “Yes”, I gasped. “Yes, what?” he said, frowning. “Yes, sir” I corrected myself quickly as I showed him my hands. “Good, baby girl. I love your wrists, you know?”, my master said caressing them sweetly. Until all of a sudden and with an almost savage movement he brought my hands back and began to tie them with the cord of his shorts on the handrail of the staircase.

“There you go… now I got you completely for me. Are you ok with this? just tell me if you don’t” he said in a sexy tone mixed with true respect for my boundaries.

Truth is, that I love bondage in all of its forms, so I was more than ok. “I’m good, Sir”, I answered him, this time with a lascivious sight.

Law took his shirt off and after worshiping my body for a few seconds, he went straight to my breasts, also kneeling in front of me. “I’ve been wanting to do this since the other night. God, I love your boobs”, he said while massaging them, sometimes brushing his palms over my hard nipples. The tingling sensation that spread around my whole body but that finally concentrated on my core, made my eyes roll back.

He was now using his tongue over my nipples, tracing little circles around them, sucking, biting them. My knees hurt, my wrists too as I moved squirming for the pleasure his skilled mouth gave me. Yet, the pain didn’t bother me, it was only raising up the arousal I felt for that man.

“Get up”, he dictated me. I knew what it was coming, I knew it well. I struggled a little, but my hands were properly tight pretty up for me to stand up with no problems.

Law looked at me from head to toes, and bit my neck fiercely. Again, the pain just made myself even more horny. “Uhg Law…” I groaned. “Spread your legs”, he said and used his right leg to separate them with a simple movement.

A finger, two, three penetrated inside me, up, down, back and forth. Of course, he knew where the critical points of a woman's pleasure were, he knew the anatomy to perfection. The rhythm of his technique increased, and as my legs became weaker for pleasure, he placed his hands over my carotids.

The faster the fingering, the harder he pressed the sides of my neck. I had dreamt of being choked with those inked hands since the first time I saw them.

“L-Law.. I’m- coming…” I said as I tried to gasp for air. “Oh… you do?” he said, teasing me, and when I was about to reach the climax he suddenly stopped. “I don’t want you to cum so fast, baby girl”, he said planting a kiss on my neck.

The frustrating feeling of not being allowed to finally release all the accumulated pleasure, made me instantly beg to him with my blushed cheeks, filled with burning blood, “Please, sir, let me finish”.

“Not yet, baby, why are you rushing? We have all night”, he said as he knelt down. His face was now next to my sex. Law hugged my hips and placed his cheek over my lower stomach. “I want to taste you first, darling”, he said and started kissing my overly sensitive skin, lowering his mouth until the entrance of my cunt. “Mmh, I bet your legs are a little bit tired, why don’t you try sitting over my face?”, he said grabbing my ass pushing me closer to his face. “I like to be in control, but hey, having the pussy of a goddess like you over my face, it’s just too good”. And as he said so, he pulled me even harder so I couldn’t keep composure and let my whole body weight fall over his face. “Good”, I heard him mumble, while helping me place the back of my thighs over his shoulders.

Using his tongue and mouth, he devoured my whole sex. I couldn’t help but brush my fingers through his black hair, pulling some strands as I reached the peak of pleasure. “Come for me, baby”, he said and the knot on my lower stomach finally unleashed. It was the first time a man made me squirt, so I got a little embarrassed, yet, Law enjoyed every last drop of it.

“Very good, baby girl. Your taste is just wonderful… ready for the second round?”, he asked me as he stood up. I noticed the hard bulge on his loosen swim shorts, and thought on how I wanted him to fuck me right there.

Law untied me and ordered me, “knelt there, over the pillows. I want to fuck your mouth, baby”. I bit my lower lip anticipating the sweet taste of his cock and headed to the pillows, “Yes, sir”.

“Open big, show me your tongue”, he ordered me while letting his shorts fall to the floor and revealing his erect member. I licked my lips and opened my mouth, sticking my tongue out waiting for him to feed me with his manhood.

He had his dick on his hand, slowly approaching the tip of it to my tongue. I licked it and tasted his fluids, delighted, looking up at him as I did. That probably sparked the fire inside him because I saw how his gaze turned from calm to one more primal, more desire driven. He grabbed my face, putting one of his hands under my mandible and the other on the back of my head, and penetrated my mouth merciless.

I took every thrust, gaging, drooling. Tears running through my cheeks, and my sight fixed on his. His little moans, groans, almost shouts of pleasure played like a symphony for me. I was all about being completely submitted to his pleasure, I enjoyed it, I wanted him to cum all over my mouth and chest.

He was about to finish, when he stopped. “Good job, baby girl. But now, I want to fuck you hard and cum inside you”. We shouldn’t, I thought, but I didn’t have the power to say no, inside of me I wanted him to impregnate me with his warm fluids.

He pushed me softly and I laid down over the pillows, Law was now above me. He didn’t take too much time and plunge into me. He alternated quick violent thrusts with slower, and gentle ones.

Beads of sweat ran through our bodies, his hard cock spreading my walls, our breathing getting faster, my nails carving into his back’s skin, his hands grabbing hard my hip bones while fucking me. Some kisses, some moaning without taking our lips apart, breathing his warm breath. I was being sent to heaven, or hell, who knows.

“I. Want. To. Fuck. You. Every. Night. From. Now. On.” he said with every deep deep thrust. I could only moan a simple, “uhm, yes Law, please”.

I lowered my eyelids, threw my head back and surrendered to an intense orgasm, followed by my master, who filled me up with his thick, creamy love juice to a hard moan.

We remained like this, covered in sweat, spellbound with the scent of our bodies, with the pulsating feeling that we still had in our sexes. I had the height of Law’s body over mine, feeling on my neck how his breathing slowly returned to normal, was heavenly.

A few minutes after, he rolled to the side, covered his eyes with his forearm and said, “I mean it. I want to fuck you every single night from now on”. I sighed, “that’s a proposal that lacks romanticism, but I’ll take it. You fucked me good, doctor”.

He uncovered his eyes, looked at me, and pulled me closer to his body, “Don’t worry, I haven’t made any proposal... yet”.

“What?... did he…” my thoughts got interrupted with Law placing his arm on my back, pulling me even closer. “come closer…” he commanded me, and I laid my head over his naked chest. His soft, hairless, tanned, tattooed chest made the perfect pillow, I wished I could use it every single night from now on.

Relaxing to the sounds of the storm that was no near to be over, we finally fell asleep. But, the sexy time wasn’t over yet because a few hours later, I woke up being spooned by Law, and even him being asleep I could feel his erection over my ass.

I was exhausted, and yet, I couldn’t help but grind myself against him softly, and if it happened to wake Law up... oh well.

And it did.

Half asleep, half awake, Law lifted my leg and caressed softly my entrance but without penetrating me, with his member on his hand. With a sleepy voice, he whispered from behind, “you are insatiable, right doll?”, and placed a kiss on the back part of my shoulder.

I wanted him to sink deep inside of me, I wanted him to fuck me, fast. He played with his member and the juices of my arousal, lubricating it, while stroking it with his hands. His breathing over my nape, the random kisses he placed. His hand over my breast, squeezing hard. It was like a sweet torture to me.

“Just fuck me already, Law”, I begged him. “heh, your wish is my command, baby girl”, he said and in a single movement he buried himself into me. “Mhhh…”, I moaned in response, loud, relieving.

Law grabbed my face, squeezing my cheeks, introducing his index finger inside my mouth as he fucked me from behind. “Suck it”, he ordered me, and I licked and sucked the “E” tattooed finger. “Good girl”, he said, and brought his hand over my clit. Without stopping the plunging, he traced circles over my pleasure point, making the stimulation even stronger.

After a few more rounds of intense pleasure, our bodies finally fell into exhaustion.

A sunray sneaked through the skylight of the lighthouse and hit directly into my face. I slowly opened my eyes. Law had his arm over my waist, hugging me from behind. I moved on the sly, trying not to wake him up. It was pretty early yet, so I let him sleep a little bit more.

I remembered I hadn’t sent any messages to my friends since last night, so I searched for my phone hoping it still had some battery left. The screen was covered in notifications from my girlfriends, so I rushed to the chat group to tell them I was ok. “@SunflowerDr > I’m fine, -more than fine- I’m sure the boys have told you where I am. I’ll tell you the details when I come back. Don’t miss me ;)”.

“Morning…”, I heard Law saying with a sleepy voice, rubbing his eyes with his forearm and yawning. A few wrinkled blankets were covering his legs from under the belly button. I traveled my eyes over his anatomy, following every inch of it, every inch of his slightly dusky inked skin. I approached him and flopped down on the pillow bed.

Resting at his side, we both looked at each other, “Good morning”, I said. He placed his hand over the side of my head and brushed softly my hair.

I kept admiring the sharp facial features that drove me crazy. His alluring grey eyes, the little eye bags around them, how the sun from the past days has tinted his cheeks a little bit red, his sharped snub nose, the enticing lips and the facial hair he had that made my heart burst in … perhaps… love?.

I’m not sure what he was thinking, but the look in his eyes made me feel at peace.

“It looks like the weather has changed, right?” He spoke. “Uhum, the sun is shining today”, I replied. “I know there is no fancy shower in this place, but we could use the sea. But first, I want to show you something”, he told me, a little worried about the lack of luxury the beacon had. I didn’t mind it at all, I mean, this place was prepared for me with cute details. A night at a luxurious hotel wouldn’t hit the same.

We then stood up, I simply threw my dress over my naked body, and he did the same with his swim shorts. “Let’s go”, he said grabbing my hand and pulling me to the stairs. We climb the spiral staircase up to the last floor.

“Be careful”, he told me, still holding my hand. We entered a room with glass walls, metal floor and a big lamp in the middle of it. The scenery ahead of us was the endless East China Sea. The waves shined as pretty crystals because of the clear sky that allowed the sun to be fully bright. A few seagulls danced in the sky and some ships far away in the distance seemed to be exploring the vast sea in front of us.

I was mesmerized, I loved it. Law grabbed my waist from behind, hugged me and placed his chin over my shoulder as we enjoyed the view.

I had never felt this way before, I felt happy, at peace, I trusted that man with closed eyes even though I didn’t really know him. Every time he hugged me it was a comforting sensation, I felt as if I was being protected from every bad thing in this world. The touch of his skin energized me.

After some minutes enjoying the scene we decided to head outside. I put my bikini on, and headed outside. It was warm enough for us to swim, and the sun had heated the almost white sand that burned our feet. So, we ran to the sea. Law and I submerged into the clear blue water, refreshing our bodies.

We were alone on the beach, as if it was still really early in the morning. I splashed some water on Law’s face, and he responded doing the same. We played like teenagers in love.

“Come here”, he said and pulled me closer to his body. He kissed my lips, laughing, happy. I hadn’t seen him so cheerful since I met him. I’d forever cherished that content expression in my heart.

Law sent the guys a text, asking if they were still at home. Franky told him they had already left home, and headed to Jeju Stone park. We decided to come back to the house, buying something for breakfast on the go and changed clothes.

While in the car, before starting the engine, Law opened the glove box and took off the little bag that I saw yesterday. “Uhm, I saw this little thing on the pharmacy counter, so I bought it… for you”, he said, a little embarrassed and handed me the packet.

“What?? a present? oh my god, thank you!!” I thanked him while opening it, excited. Inside the paper bag there was a little keychain with a plastic slice of tangerine hanging from it.

“I know it’s not something sophisticated, but it reminded me of the time we went to the market, where you fed me the little tangerine slice… I had to fight the urge to kiss your sweet fingers”, he confessed. If you only knew, my dear Law how much I wished for you to do it… “It’s just beautiful, Law. The fact that you bought it because it reminded you of something so little that happened between us, makes me so happy. You are such a man. Thank you, for real”, I said and planted a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

“I’m glad you like it”, he expressed, still a little shy, started the car and we left the beach.

The stress became busier, the sun peeking through the cute little white and pink sakura flowers, we rolled down the car windows so the warm breeze could hit our faces. The radio blasting a song called “Memories”, that I thought was from a certain anime.

We finally arrived home, I entered the code on the entrance and we headed inside. We discussed what our plans were going to be for the day. We ended up deciding that we would be visiting Jeongbang falls, after visiting a tangerine farm where they let you pick them. My ankle seemed to be a little bit swollen, yet it didn’t hurt at all, so it wasn’t a problem, as long as I kept it bound up and took the anti-inflammatories.

“Law, I’m gonna go and take a shower, do you prefer to go in first?”, I asked innocently. “I’d prefer to take a shower with you, but it’s your choice”, he said with a smirking face. “Come, then…” I said to him, biting my lower lip.

After a refreshing shower - and a little more of intense sex - we got dressed and hoped on the car again. We headed east, to a more rural zone where the typical tangerine farms were.

An old lady and her husband welcomed us and explained everything about tangerine culture. They gave us a pair of gloves, two baskets and some pruning shears to cut the twigs.

“Mmm why are tangerines here so sweet?”, Law asked with his mouth full of the citric juice. “Close your mouth, you are going to stain your shirt” I said laughing while rubbing a tissue over his mouth. “You know what else was sweet and drippy last night, babe….?” he said, arching a brown. “Shut up, there are children in here…” I said, with burning cheeks pushing him softly.

We spent the whole morning there, tasting and cultivating the tangerines, and taking pictures on little hidden spots specially decorated with props for photo taking all over the farm.

Suddenly some notifications sounded on my phone. I unlocked it, and saw that Law had tagged me on a specific post. He uploaded two photos. In one of them I was picking tangerines unaware he was taking a pic and the other one of us with our mouth full of tangerine, smiling. The comments began to appear, Nami, Vivi, Robin, the guys, his family, everybody was commenting on how cute we were -and I was-. He was showing me off, and nobody could seem to believe how big Law’s smile was, how happy he looked…

I reached for his gaze, and smiled at him, no words needed…

We said goodbye to the old couple there and drove to the waterfalls. It was a little bit crowded, because that is a popular tourist spot as is the only waterfall that falls directly into the ocean in all Asia.

The landscape was really pretty, a big stream of crystalline water fell into the ocean, and at the coastline you could see “haenyeo” -sea women-. They were female divers that harvested a variety of mollusks, seaweed and other sea life from the ocean.

Also, according to ancient beliefs, a holy dragon is said to have lived under the falls, and its spiritual water could cure any type of disease. Law suggested me to submerge my foot there, in order to relieve the inflammation of my ankle. And, even the both of us being practically doctors, we were so in love that believing in magic wasn’t hard for us, so I put my foot there and waited.

A few minutes later, Law took off the wet bandages of my foot, planted a sweet kiss over my ankle, and helped me to put back my sandals.

We watched the sunset on the shore. Everything felt like it was a dream, maybe like those fan fictions I used to read back at home. I felt like the luckiest girl alive in the whole world.

We headed to the car, and drove home, as the night fell over us. Law was driving silently, yet with a big smile that reminded me of Rosinante’s. I gazed at my foot and realized that my ankle wasn’t swollen anymore. “Oi, doctor, my ankle isn’t inflamed anymore. Maybe the water really does miracles… or maybe it was just your kiss… who knows?”. He turned his face at me, “I have powers, healing powers, the power of a special fruit!!”he said jokingly. “You wished, haha”, I said, and both laughed.

We spent the last part of the way thinking how to deal with our over excited friends about all of this. We found no way besides just smiling at them.

Everybody was already at home, the blue Hyundai Venue, and the white Tucson were parked on the entrance. “Are you ready?”, I asked Law who seemed to slowly fade his smile. “No, I’m not, but let’s enter anyway”. I learned how Law hated being the center of attention, so I could feel his “pain”.

“FINALLY!! THE HAPPY COUPLE HAVE ARRIVED!!!” everybody shouted at us, clapping, laughing and smiling at us. “Stop it guys, oh lord”, I said covering my face with my hands.

“We were thinking about going to a karaoke bar tonight, what do you guys think? “asked Robin to us. Law didn’t speak, but smiled when I looked at him, so I agreed with my friends.

I went to my room and my girlfriends plus Chopper followed me. “TELL. US. EVERYTHING.”, said Nami, closing the door. I threw myself into my bed and said, “Calm down, I’m gonna tell you everything, but first let me rest”.

We got ready for the night, my body did hurt a little, but I wasn’t going to lose a single minute of my vacations, my friends, and of course Law.

We only took two of the cars, Law and I weren’t used to drinking so we were going to be the “designated drivers” for the night.

We drove to the busy tourist district of Jeju city, Tap Dong Lo, full of lights and nightlife. We parked our cars and started walking looking for the perfect karaoke bar.

Law sat next to Zoro on one of the couches the bar had. I could see how my pretty tanned skin crush wasn’t at all comfortable with all of the loud music, but still chuckled at Luffy and Usopp trying to hit notes on their turn to sing.

I was enjoying the night, dancing with the girls when I saw a girl approach Law in a suggestive way, and sat next to him. Law smiled at her, and gave her a hug.

“Who the f… is she?....”

Part 5

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booooo-ks · 3 years ago

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Question.

How the heck is one supposed to draw sonic 😂😤

(Small blue drawings are traces to help get the anatomy.

I hate him, but love him. Why so hard 3 draw 😢

Uhg

#art #ibispaintx #sonic fandom #sonic the hedgehog #sonic x shadow #sonic #sth #sth fanart #fanart #how2draw

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lady-of-the-lotus · 4 years ago

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Xue Yang, still alive and disguised as Xiao Xingchen post-canon, pulls a vulnerable Lan Xichen into his destructive orbit with the promise of raising Meng Yao from the grave. Did somebody say #friendship goals?

“We got him back,” he says. His voice is hoarse, as if he’s spent all night screaming. “That pocket-sized prick is back, and that deluded blue idiot will do anything to keep him here.” Nothing from Xiao Xingchen's spirit-trapping pouch. He reaches over to where his robes are jumbled beside the bed, pulls a few closely-written pages from his inner robe’s qiankun sleeve. “See, I have it all here, you know I do—” Still nothing.

Tumblr Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Read on AO3! - M - XueXiao and XiYao

Chapter 3

Xue Yang is waiting for Lan Xichen when the Clan Leader steps back inside the manor.

“A-Yao,” Lan Xichen is murmuring to himself. “A-Yao. A-Yao. A-Yao…”

Oh, for heaven’s sake.

“Not if you don’t get back in here.” Grinning, Xue Yang waves him into the courtyard. The warmth has faded from his qiankun sleeve, the past half hour is a blur, but he feels more like himself than he has in months.

Happy, too, in a bright, marrow-deep way, which isn’t something he’s much used to.

Lan Xichen glances over his shoulder at the road. Xue Yang steps around him and closes the manor gates.

“Where did you run off to?” he asks, bolting the heavy doors. His arms and legs are still tingling, blood rushing in his ears. “The main event is about to begin.”

Lan Xichen follows him into the hall. His eyes widen as he drinks in the naked body. Chang Ping is an oozing mass of red and pink and yellow, exposed bone and ruptured fat and flayed muscle, a beautiful monstrosity glistening wetly in the lamplight.

The corpse’s eyes are missing.

“Not bad, if I do say so myself.” Xue Yang wipes his blade on Chang Ping’s inner robe, still grinning. “Considering how out of practice I am.”

“Did you have to—have to—”

“Give him the full experience?” Xue Yang laughs. His laugh is a bit too high and a bit too long. “I needed that resentful energy, my friend. Do you think I enjoyed torturing the good Chang Ping?”

Lan Xichen glances at Xue Yang’s left hand.

Xue Yang wags a playful finger at him. He feels like he’s glowing, still filled with that sharp clear brightness. “What his father did to me had nothing to do with any of this. But believe me when I say he was just as guilty.”

“His father? I thought it was Chang Ping who…” Lan Xichen shakes his head. “Never mind. What do you need the resentful energy for?”

Xue Yang points to the floor beneath the swinging corpse. Drawn in blood on the floor is a large, complicated array. “Three guesses. Now, I’ll be back in just a minute; I have something to take care of—”

“I sent the servants away.”

The grin slips from Xue Yang’s face. “You what?”

“I sent them away.”

The brightness fades. “And why did you do that? Pang of conscience?”

“I needed someone to deliver a letter to my brother. That’s all.”

“Suicide note?”

“Suicide is forbidden—”

“So is murder.”

“I could never do that to my family, or demean the gift of life given to me.”

A gust of laughter escapes Xue Yang. “We’ll get there eventually,” he says, shaking his head. It was foolish to think Lan Xichen would have let him kill the servants.

One more reason to bring Jin Guanyao back. Lan Xichen, he knows, will not be able to say no to his precious A-Yao.

“What do you mean?” Lan Xichen asks.

“Not the suicide, my friend. Don’t worry. I want you whole and healthy...” Xue Yang pats his arm reassuringly. “We have time.”

“Time for what?”

Xue Yang flashes a smile. One of his innocent ones this time. “Time to bring back your friend, of course .”

“What now?”

Xue Yang takes Jin Guangyao’s spirit-trapping pouch from Lan Xichen. “Your hand.”

He pricks Lan Xichen’s finger and uses his blood to draw a number of talismans, festooning Chang Ping’s body with the thin slips of yellow paper.

He picks up the spirit-trapping pouch he’d used to capture Chang Ping’s resentful energy, grips it in the same hand as Jin Guangyao’s pouch, and produces his copy of the Stygian Tiger Amulet.

Lan Xichen almost keels over. “That’s—”

“We know what it is.”

“But—”

“Don’t worry. I don’t use it often enough to go the way of Wen Ruohan or Wei Wuxian.”

“But—”

“Do you want me to continue or not?”

Lan Xichen ducks his head and steps back.

Black smoke twines around Xue Yang’s fingers. He sends the amulet flying at the corpse, drawing a rapid-fire sequence of glowing red symbols in the air, then opens Chang Ping’s spirit-trapping pouch and reaches inside.

A blast of resentful energy burst free of the bag, sending Lan Xichen flying across the room. He knocks over a brazier, sending dozens of candles rolling across the bloodstained floor, and slams his head on the stone tiles.

Xue Yang releases a second burst of dark energy so strong he blacks out for a moment. Every bone in his body feels like it’s been turned to soup, a giant fist crushing his skull. Any second now there’s going to be a pop and the floor will be splattered with gray pulp and white shards of skull—

A murmuring sound.

He looks up.

A small white body lies curled inside the array.

Lan Xichen is beside the figure. “…A-Yao?”

Jin Guangyao sits up. He’s shivering and naked in the lamplight. “...Er…er-ge? Zewu-jun….?”

It worked it worked it worked—

Lan Xichen drapes his outer robe around Jin Guangyao. “It’s me, I’ve brought you back—”

Xue Yang sneers. His heart is hammering against his ribcage and his hands and feet are numb. “Actually, you just stood there and goggled at me and passed out.”

“You’re back, you’re back—”

A-Yao slumps forward.

Lan Xichen’s eyes are wide, face white. “What happened? What happened?!—”

Xue Yang shrugs. “How should I know? The last time I did this I killed the man as soon as I confirmed I could do it. Was just trying to see if I was doing something wrong.”

Lan Xichen draws in a deep, shaky breath. “He’s fine, I know he’s fine—”

Xue Yang shrugs again. “I’ve done my part. The rest is up to him.”

Lan Xichen carries Jin Guangyao to one of the bedrooms and settles down beside the bed, eyes never leaving the little snake’s face.

“How many days will it take for those servants you let escape to reach Cloud Recesses?” Xue Yang snaps his fingers in Lan Xichen’s ear. “Are you in there? How long do we have until those servants tell the Lans where we are?”

Lan Xichen starts. “With no detours, on foot, two weeks.”

“Then we have that long until anyone comes after us on their swords. Unless they meet Lan cultivators on the road—”

“I told them not to speak to anyone.”

“As if they’d follow your orders if it were convenient not to?”

“I’m the clan leader.”

“Not of their clan… Doesn’t matter. We need to get moving anyway. As soon as your dimpled little friend is on his feet, we’re out of here. Wake me if anything important happens.”

There’s another bedroom down the hall. He locks the door behind him, removes his robes and shoes and lies down on the bed in just his trousers. Rests Xiao Xingchen’s pouch on his bare chest. Lays Shuanghua out beside him, pressed up against his side. Sets Jiangzai within grabbing distance.

“We got him back,” he says. His voice is hoarse, as if he’s spent all night screaming. “That pocket-sized prick is back, and that deluded blue idiot will do anything to keep him here.”

Nothing from the pouch.

He reaches over to where his robes are jumbled beside the bed, pulls a few closely-written pages from his inner robe’s qiankun sleeve.

“See, I have it all here, you know I do, you were with me when I found it, when I copied it all out—”

Still nothing.

“Daozhang?” He sits up, back to the wall, staring down at the pouch. “I know you can hear me…”

Still nothing.

Worn out from the ritual, he eventually falls asleep, propped up against the wall with the papers scattered across the bed and Xiao Xingchen’s pouch cradled in his lap.

He’s up at dawn. His body aches as if he’d been trampled by a dozen horses, but his head is clearer.

Ridiculous, any worry. He had simply been too tired to focus on the pouch last night, too exhausted to pick up on the subtle motions of the pouch, to sense Xiao Xingchen’s reassuring warmth…

It’s not that Xiao Xingchen disapproved of what he had done. How would Xiao Xingchen even know, if Xue Yang hadn't told him?

(Besides, he’s done far worse over the past eight years.)

And it certainly isn’t that Xiao Xingchen can’t communicate with Xue Yang. For years now he’s felt the pouch hum, felt its warmth—

Years.

He drags himself out to the discussion hall in time to watch Jin Guangyao evaporate in the pale morning light.

“A-Yao!” Lan Xichen leaps forward, snatching at him, but it’s too late.

Jin Guangyao is gone.

“Well, that didn’t go as planned.” Xue Yang yawns. He’s known this moment was coming, known Jin Guangyao would fade with the morning sun, knows that he’ll be back that night, but he takes no pleasure in Lan Xichen’s anguish. Odd, that. He’d expected this all to be more amusing. “He say anything interesting?”

Lan Xichen seizes him by the throat, hoisting him off the floor with his tremendous Lan strength. “You little rat, what did you do, you promised me A-Yao back—”

Xue Yang desperately struggles to pry Lan Xichen’s fingers from his throat, but Lan Xichen’s grip is like iron.

“U—gh—uhg—”

Lan Xichen flings him out the door so hard he bounces twice and rolls down the discussion hall steps. The Clan Leader’s handsome face is a nightmarish mask of itself, twisted by rage and hate and panic.

Xue Yang stands slowly, choking on his swollen Adam’s apple.

Lan Xichen flies down beside him. “What did you do, you repugnant little liar—”

Jiangzai appears in Xue Yang’s hand. “I brought him back!” Blood spurts from his tongue as he speaks. “I swear!”

“You bastard, you lied to me—”

“I told you, I’ve never done this before! I swear I did my best! Do you think I wanted this? I need that dimpled little madman too!”

Lan Xichen hits him so hard that Xue Yang is knocked on his back. He draws Shuoyue, but Xue Yang has Jiangzai up, pointing at Lan Xichen’s throat.

“Lay one more finger on me,” Xue Yang rasps, “and it will be the last thing you ever do.”

“As if I care—”

Xue Yang spits blood. “I’m the only one who can get him back, and you know it!"

Lan Xichen freezes, then slowly sheaths his sword. “You have until tonight.”

Rubbing at his bruised throat, Xue Yang grins, a grin full of teeth. “Anything for you, my friend.”

* * *

Xue Yang locks himself in the discussion hall all day to work on getting “A-Yao” back. Spends most of the day napping on the Clan Leader’s chair. The corpse has begun to rot, but he doesn’t mind. The smell of rotting meat, combined with the familiar surroundings, brings him back to happier times at the Chang Manor.

“We’re almost there, daozhang,” he mumbles as he falls asleep. Not directly to the pouch. He doesn’t dare take it out. “Just a little bit longer…”

He wakes at moonrise, just in time to add a few more lines to the array, forcing Jin Guangyao to reappear in the empty hall with Xue Yang instead of beside Lan Xichen, to whom he’s been bound. (A mistake, the binding, but it’s too late to rectify now.)

Jin Guangyao reappears in a shower of silvery sparks, still wearing the oversized clothes he’d borrowed from Chang Ping’s wardrobe.

“You did this,” he says to Xue Yang. Only his timbre and over-enunciation are as Xue Yang remembers. The old cloying obsequiousness, the sticky politeness, have been scrubbed away. “You brought me back.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“Why?”

Xue Yang shrugs. “Zewu-jun’s fault, really. You know, if you want to apologize for trying to kill me, now would be a good time.”

Jin Guangyao ducks his head at him. “I explained that to you when you returned to me to beg for help in restoring Xiao Xingchen, Chengmei. You know I had no choice, and that I ordered my men to let you survive the beating.”

Xue Yang rolls his eyes. As if he’d bought that bullshit eight years ago, either. “Whatever. You still owe me, big time.”

Jin Guangyao ignores that. “Zewu-jun seems rather out of sorts.”

“Zewu-jun stood by and watched me a torture a man to death, if that’s what you mean. Let me kill a good dozen others, too. What’s with that look? I thought killing people made you happy.”

A slight return of Jin Guangyao’s old fussily polite manner. Xue Yang had always thought that Jin Guangyao had been relatively open around him, hadn’t been afraid to snap at him on occasion, to complain about Koi Tower’s bottom-feeding snakes, but now Xue Yang sees that the face he’d shown him during their partnership had merely been another of the former clan leader’s masks.

“If I wanted you dead, you would have been dead,” says Jin Guangyao, granting him a full bow this time. “I thank you, Xue Chengmei, for granting me renewed life.”

Xue Yang snorts. “Blow it out your blubberhole, Lianfang-zun. Save it for that blue fool out there.” He flings open the discussion hall’s doors. Lan Xichen is pacing back and forth before the hall. He was already too thin to begin with, but he seems to have lost another ten pounds over the past twelve hours.

“Your little friend is back,” Xue Yang says shortly. “I’ll be packing. We need to leave this place.”

He turns and heads off. The melting way that dimpled little scorpion turned his stupidly huge eyes on Lan Xichen makes him want to run them both through with a sword.

Lan Xichen, daring to lay a hand on him—

“What did you do, you repugnant little liar—”

He should have known that was coming. Shouldn’t have been so surprised at Lan Xichen’s treachery.

Xue Yang rubs at the bruises on his throat. The Lan Clan Leader had to have been part of the decision to beat Xue Yang to death all those years ago. It was foolish of Xue Yang to ever think otherwise. Stupid, stupid—

They reach Yueyang at dawn, slowed down by Jin Guangyao, who is far weaker than Xue Yang had expected.

The little snake disappears as the sun’s first rays touch him, his face a mask of pain.

“It hurts him,” Lan Xichen says, turning to Xue Yang.

Xue Yang tosses a candied peanut in the air, catching it in his mouth. “So? What do you want me to do about it?”

“Anchor him here. Do something !”

“You’re the scholar. You’re the expert on ghosts.”

“On getting rid of them! You’re the one who knows how to—to work your wicked tricks—”

“Ah, the second they’re no longer working in your favor, they’re ‘suddenly wicked tricks.’ ”

Lan Xichen frowns as if he has no idea what Xue Yang means.

Hypocrite . He wants to punch himself in the face for ever thinking Lan Xichen was any different than the rest. Hypocrite, hypocrite—

A stab of fear. What if this all means that Lan Xichen is not, in fact, a suitable subject—

No. No. Lan Xichen is still “pure.” Still “good.” He can’t help being born so high that the execution of a criminal meant nothing to him, can’t help being raised by the Lan to think that any cultivation deviating from the norm is “wicked”—

He knows he should take Xiao Xingchen out, tell him about his progress. Knows he should ask Lan Xichen to leave their shared room to give them some privacy, but instead Xue Yang goes to the innkeeper and orders several jars of wine.

He’d spent the trip to Yueyang coming up with an alternate explanation of Jin Guangyao’s return for the daozhang. Xiao Xingchen, he knows, would not approve of the lingchi.

He knows that’s why Xiao Xingchen had abandoned him the other night. The daozhang must have sensed something. That was all. Simple disapproval.

Xue Yang can explain everything. Explain how whatever Xiao Xingchen thought he’d sensed, it had been wrong…

But instead he orders the wine.

“I thought you don’t drink,” says Lan Xichen.

“Everyone has to start sometime. Besides, if you think I can put up with you and that dimpled weasel making eyes at each while sober, you are gravely mistaken.” He takes a deep drink from the wine jar. “Just go and ask him.”

“I beg your pardon. Ask him what?”

“ ‘I beg your pardon,’ ” Xue Yang mimics. “Just ask the dimpled little freak what he needs done.”

“Needs done?”

“Are all of you Lans this dense? This is demonic cultivation. Everything is the opposite of what you know. The thing that would normally set his spirit at rest will instead bind him to this world. No more disappearing and reappearing.”

“No more pain?”

“I can’t answer that. But I’d guess not.” Xue Yang finishes his first jar of wine. It’s disgusting dry wine, but he’s not drinking it for the flavor. He takes a sip from the second jar. It burns his bruised throat and he chokes, coughing up a mix of wine and blood from his pierced tongue.

Fucking Lan.

“Not that we can fix what’s wrong with him up here,” he adds, tapping his head. “Guess being locked up for a year with an angry ghost who hates your insides isn’t a lot of fun.”

“What do you mean?”

Xue Yang ignores him, just stretches out on his bed and closes his eyes. Just have to wait for him to fall asleep, then I can take out Xiao Xingchen, explain everything to him—

But when he wakes in the middle of the night to a quiet room, he instead unsheathes Shuanghua and lays it beside him, heating the metal to body temperature using a Wen talisman, and goes back to sleep, pressed closely up against the blade.

They tell him the news in the morning: “A-Yao” has selected Wu Shen, a Yunping merchant as the target of his revenge, the thing Lan Xichen believes will anchor the little freak to the world of the living.

Xue Yang knows he should be happy, knows this is exactly what he’s been wanting, knows this is important progress, but the joy he’d felt at the Chang Manor is gone, and there’s no recapturing it.

It takes a week to reach Yunping City.

Seven nights for Xue Yang to sit with a cold lifeless pouch in his hands while Jin Guangyao lies warm and breathing next to Lan Xichen.

It’s not that Xiao Xingchen doesn’t want to communicate with him.

And it’s not that he can’t .

Xue Yang is certain of this.

For years he’s felt Xiao Xingchen stirring in his pouch, communicating with him, listening to him—

It’s simply that now that they’re so very, very close, Xiao Xingchen is preserving his strength so he can assist Xue Yang when the moment comes.

That’s all.

He doesn’t say much to Jin Guangyao during this time. He talks, of course. A lot. But that’s different than truly saying anything.

Except for one conversation they have on the third night, when Jin Guangyao is still communicative, before the clan leader fades fully into himself and stops speaking.

“What do you plan to do after Wu Shen is dead?” he asks Jin Guangyao. The little weasel is lying beside Lan Xichen, who’s fast asleep. Jin Guangyao’s hands are clasped tightly over his chest, as if lying still and corpselike on his back brings back bad memories.

Jin Guangyao darts a quick look over at Lan Xichen as if to make sure he’s truly asleep. “What do you mean?”

“Shall I repeat myself and wake him up?”

Jin Guangyao frowns slightly. “I heard you. But you know good and well what will happen to me.”

“And yet you asked that deluded blue fool to kill that merchant for you.”

Jin Guangyao is staring straight up at the ceiling, knuckles standing out white and sharp on his tightly clasped hands. “He won’t do it.”

Xue Yang snorts. “If he doesn’t, I’ve wasted a lot of time.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Xue Yang stretches, running his fingertips down Shuanghua’s textured white hilt. “Bringing you together, I mean.”

“That makes no sense.”

Xue Yang gives a silent little shrugging laugh. This is the first time Jin Guangyao has really sounded like his old self. He’d never been fooled for a moment by the other man’s cloying, ingratiating manner. Jin Guangyao is a condescending, vicious, arrogant bastard, and Xue Yang appreciates that.

It’s the false humility and veneer of politeness that he can’t deal with. Beat someone half to death and leave them bleeding out in a ditch—behead his sworn brother—assassinate his father—this Xue Yang can understand. But show your face while you do it, is how he sees it. Don’t hide behind a mask of gentility!

“It doesn’t matter,” says Jin Guangyao when Xue Yang just keeps laughing. “He won’t do it.”

“Are you certain?”

Jin Guangyao glances over at the man asleep beside him. It’s sickening, the way he’s been making eyes at Lan Xichen. “He won’t.”

“And if he does?”

“Then…” Jin Guangyao trails off. “He won’t.”

Whatever. Better for Jin Guangyao to believe the utter bullshit he’s spouting. Wouldn’t do to have him trying to stop Lan Xichen.

Just a few more days now.

* * * *

“Dinner first, I think,” says Xue Yang as they settle into their inn in Yunping. “Can’t practice demonic cultivation on an empty stomach, now, can we? Zewu-jun? No? Suit yourself. Meet back here in an hour, and we’ll head out.” Xue Yang heads downstairs.

The smell of fried vegetables and dumplings wafts from the inn’s kitchen, but Xue Yang is too nervous to eat.

That’s a first. Being too nervous for anything is a first.

Instead he shaves and fixes his hair, braiding it like Xiao Xingchen used to for him and looping it up to be bound by the silver hairpiece he’s saved all these years. Puts on his best robes. Cleans his nails and teeth and polishes his sword.

He looks in the small, grainy mirror stuck to the room’s wall, then looks away.

He’s still not sure why he avoids mirrors. You’d think he’d want to see Xiao Xingchen’s face—

He turns away and heads out to the address Jin Guangyao had given him.

But not before taking a small detour.

A risk, the detour. But a necessary one.

It’s snowing out. It coats his hair and robes, but he barely notices the icy wetness.

So close. So close—

The name “Xiao Xingchen” gets him through Wu Shen’s front door, but he has to wait a good fifteen minutes before anyone actually sees him.

He paces the small, over-furnished study as he waits. Dark red curtains, dark red floor, dark red hangings. Like slitting open a monster’s belly and crawling inside , Xue Yang thinks. He fidgets with the brush set on the desk, spilling ink on a stack of letters. He’s debating whether to sweep the whole thing onto the floor or just leave it there when Wu Shen bustles in.

“And what can I do for the daozhang?” he asks, bowing.

Normally Xue Yang would enjoy his, take his time playing with the mouse he’s caught, but he hasn’t the time or inclination tonight. Within seconds there’s a silencing spell slapped over Wu Shen’s thick blubbery lips and he’s tied up with a spirit-binding rope, being hauled out the window up into the snowy sky.

Xue Yang makes straight for Guanyin Temple with just one more detour. Lan Xichen and his precious A-Yao are there, as expected.

Xue Yang dumps Wu Shen in the snow at their feet.

Lan Xichen stares at the purple-faced man on the ground and then looks quickly at Jin Guangyao, who stands utterly still without a trace of emotion on his small pale face.

“Let’s go inside,” Xue Yang suggests. Jin Guangyao, it seems, is ready to stand there frozen all night, and Lan Xichen is more than happy to stand there staring at him.

The temple’s ceiling is half cratered, the entire place turned upside-down, but the damage isn’t as extensive as it could have been. Humming, Xue Yang limps around the temple, lighting the surviving candles with his Wen talismans. Normally cold and damp weather means pain, but tonight he barely notices the stiffness in his leg.

He’s still doing this when Lan Xichen, like an idiot, removes the silencing spell.

“—sue you all! Unhand me at once! What is the meani—”

Lan Xichen, in a rare display of good sense, replaces the silencing spell.

“ ‘Unhand me at once’?” Xue Yang snickers. “If you don’t kill him, I will. Dammit, get back here—” Wu Shen is rolling quietly towards the door. Xue Yang flies after him and shoves him flat on the ground with his foot, sending a stab of pain up his bad leg.

“He’s all yours,” he says to Lan Xichen.

They’ve been building to this point for a full week, but Lan Xichen still manages to look stunned.

“Our dimpled friend can’t do it, or it would just create more resentful energy,” he lies. “You know about these things from your studies, don’t you, Lianfang-zun? Tell the man.”

Jin Guangyao ducks his head in agreement, eyes still fixed on Wu Shen.

Xue Yang prods Wu Shen’s belly with the tip of his sword. Wu Shen gives a silent eep of indignation. Strangely, he seems more angry than scared. “Better hurry, Zewu-jun, before I give it a shot myself. ‘Unhand me at once’—”

Jin Guangyao looks up for the first time. “Er-ge?”

Lan Xichen’s sword is in his hand.

“Take my advice,” says Xue Yang, leaning on one of the few surviving columns, “and get it over with quick. Don’t try to have fun with it this time. I mean, I did my first time, but—”

He jumps as Lan Xichen takes Shuoyue and rams it through Wu Shen’s heart. He’d expected to have to do a lot more talking.

Lan Xichen releases the hilt, leaving the sword sticking up out of the dead man’s chest, and staggers backwards. He’s shaking all over, as if he’s about to pass out—

Jin Guangyao turns to Lan Xichen.

“I didn’t think you would actually do it,” he says, very softly. “Xichen, I…” He grips Lan Xichen’s sword hand. “Goodbye, Xichen. Find m—”

And then he’s gone, a handful of sparks fading into the flickering dimness of the temple.

Lan Xichen’s mouth falls open, arms dangling limply at his sides, a wooden puppet with no strings.

Xue Yang looks up from where he’s using Wu Shen’s blood to draw an array on the floor. “What went well.”

“Did you know?” Lan Xichen grabs Xue Yang’s throat. “Did you know he’d disappear? You told me it was different for demonic cultivation; you told me it would bind him here—”

“Better question to ask is if he knew,” Xue Yang chokes out.

“If—if—”

Xue Yang pries Lan Xichen’s nerveless fingers from his throat. “It was a test. You failed it. Gave in right away, as I understand.”

“I—”

Xue Yang’s bruised throat aches as he laughs. “You were the better part of him. Supposed to be the better part of him. Moonlight in the darkness and all that bullshit.”

“You—you lied to me!”

“I suppose all the beads were put in the looks bucket when you were made,” Xue Yang grins, “without a lot left over for brains.” He clicks his tongue. "What else did you expect from someone as repugnant as me?"

Lan Xichen collapses to his knees, clutching at the tiles as if trying to ground himself, his fingernails scraping the stone.

And then he’s back on his feet, swaying, a paper funeral doll hanging from a string. His knees buckle slightly, as if the melting snow has soaked his paper limbs.

“Why did you do this?”

“About time you asked.” Xue Yang removes a torn book page from his qiankun sleeve, waves it at Lan Xichen. “You really should have asked more questions, my friend.”

Lan Xichen snatches at the page, stares at them with unseeing eyes.

“The ritual calls for the corruption of a soul of so-called equal purity in order to create a proper vessel,” Xue Yang explains. “Not exactly easy to find a person like that in this stinking world. Not to mention access to the Lan library and Inquiry.” He shrugs. “You were the very obvious choice. Too bad you didn’t intentionally kill those Lan cultivators when we left the Cloud Recesses and those Nie guards, or I could’ve saved a lot of time.”

Lan Xichen’s voice seems to come from somewhere outside himself. “Are you going to kill me?”

“Kill Zewu-jun?” Xue Yang twirls a strand of hair around his finger. “I can’t take you down on my own. But I figure they can, which is why I invited them. Right on time, too—”

He takes the page back right before Lan Xichen draws Shuoyue and flies at Xue Yang. His movements are erratic, nothing like his usual impeccable swordsmanship, and Xue Yang easily spins out of the way with a laugh.

“Clan Leader!”

Six Lan cultivators have come floating down through the ceiling. They drink in the dead body, the frenzied look on Lan Xichen’s face, the blood on the floor—

One produces his guqin and begins to play.

Lan Xichen bares his teeth and turns on him, slashing the air with Shuoyue.

An arc of blue light, and the cultivator and his guqin lie in pieces on the ground.

“Zewu-jun! This is not you—”

Lan Xichen attacks.

Xue Yang stands back, watching the battle. His own swordsmanship is good but, despite his time with the Wen and Jin Clans, it lacks polish, and he knows he’s no match for Lan cultivators.

And they, it seems, are no match for Lan Xichen.

But it’s still six against one, and Lan Xichen is not himself. Holds his own well enough, parying and thrusting like a graceful blue whirlwind, but he’s bleeding heavily—

Xue Yang squints in the flickering lamplight. Not all of the blood blooming over his gauzy blue robes are from wounds inflicted by the Lan cultivators. Blood is spurting from his mouth, streaming from his eyes, squirting from a hundred little wounds appearing suddenly over his body as he—

Oh, for heaven’s sake. That’s all he needs right now; an honest-for-goodness qi deviation when he’s so close —

A stab of panic. The ritual would heal all inflicted wounds, but what if it didn’t heal qi-derived wounds—?

What if Xiao Xingchen woke up in a body that was bleeding out —

Forced to relive that nightmare a second time—

The last Lan cultivator falls but Lan Xichen continues to hack and slash and spin at the empty air, whirling and swinging and roaring, a beautiful, savage creature in blue and white, fighting phantoms until blood loss forces him to his knees.

It’s almost...pathetic.

Xue Yang can’t remember the last time he’s used that word to describe something other than Lan Xichen.

Pathetic.

He looks down at Lan Xichen. The man kneels at his feet, bleeding heavily.

“Shall I do it, my friend?” he asks Lan Xichen. His voice is almost soft.

Lan Xichen stabs upward with his sword, slashing Xue Yang’s side open like a gutted fish.

The floor rushes up to meet Xue Yang, slamming itself against his skull.

Fuck, the bastard must have struck an artery—

Wet heat, spreading over his side, his leg—a rapidly-spreading puddle of red as his pounding heart pumps the blood from his body—

Lan Xichen is kneeling, staring down at his hands. The hands that killed his precious A-Yao.

Waiting.

“You’re welcome,” says Xue Yang, blood spurting over his chin, and he plunges his knife deep into Lan Xichen’s chest.

Lan Xichen sprawls out on the stone tiles.

His vision blurred, he can just make out Lan Xichen gazing up at him, blue robes soaked with crimson, sword lying just out of his grasp in the pool of red.

Still. Peaceful.

Desperately he claws his way over to the center of the array on his hands and knees, slipping in the blood. He’s bleeding out fast—both him and Lan Xichen—

—and if Lan Xichen is already dead this has all been for nothing—

All for nothing, all for nothing—

He flops down on the array, struggling to focus, keep his rapidly fading thoughts from drifting down into the darkness rising up around him.

Warm. Too warm. And cold. Too cold.

He might still be able to heal himself yet; seal his gushing veins, seal his meridians, keep himself from bleeding out, use the last of his spiritual energy on that—

No point. No point. No point in surviving this without Xiao Xingchen. This is it—this is his last chance—

A kaleidoscope of colors burst through the darkness. He struggles to breathe, to inhale the colors into his lungs as if they’ll give him the strength to drag himself forward, but he’s lost all awareness of his mouth, his throat, his lungs, lost all control of his limbs.

A loud cry from somewhere in the misty darkness, startling him back to himself.

Summoning the last of his strength, Xue Yang reaches deep inside himself, seizes every last scrap of spiritual energy, and releases it into the array, choking out the words of the incantation—formless, gibbering words as his tongue flops uselessly in his mouth.

The warmth intensifies.

Heat, now. Uncomfortable, burning heat. Or it would be, could he feel anything—

His eyes have gone almost completely dark, but he can see a vague blue-and-red blur in front of him.

The blur moves. Sits up, then falls over, heaving itself towards him.

“Daozhang?” gasps Xue Yang with the last of the air in his lungs.

“Chengmei?”

A looming face appears in the misty rainbow-shot darkness, a pale white splotch streaked with red.

“Ch-chengmei? I heard your voice—Xue Yang!”

Xue Yang tries to drag himself towards the face, but his body won’t respond. The face is almost gone now, subsumed by the whirling rainbow lights, a thousand dancing, dying fireflies.

“What did you do to Chengmei? Is this his blood? I can’t remember anything—”

Numb limbs quivering, Xue Yang raises himself up onto all fours and struggles blindly towards the voice. He needs to speak to the face, needs to know he’s whole again. Needs to explain, needs to reach him, needs to—to—

He dies before he gets there.

* * *

Thanks for reading! tbh I never know if anyone reads these tumblr posts so a kudos on Ao3 would be much appreciated <3

#mdzsnet #Control #xue yang #lan xichen #xiyao #xuexiao #jin guangyao #meng yao #cql fanfic #mdzs #the untamed #the untamed fanfic #tw blood #tw gore #cw blood #cw gore

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cumbercookiebatchs · 5 years ago

Text

Guitarist Grantaire

Just because I love him and I’m trashing on Les mis, Grantaire and Enjoltaire.

- Can play lots and lots of instruments, (piano, sax, violin and drums) but he’s awesome with a guitar;

- He’s really good at singing, too;

- He’s in a band with two other guys. Les amis don’t know (yet) about this, except Ponine. It’s not a secret, it just never came out;

- The band’s name is “Minority” cause they all love “Green Day”;

- They play in a suburbian bar;

- The bar’s name is “Blue” and is rather big for a bar;

- The bar’s costumers love them;

- On Thursdays and Saturdays they have a lineup, on Tuesdays they go with audience’s requests;

- Grantaire is always joking on stage, singing even when he doesen’t know the lyrics, while the drummer and the bassist always manage to play everything;

- Once, someone asked for “Here I am,” and Grantaire only knew half of it, speaking on the guitar solo:

“ I’m sorry, I hope you don’t mind me acting like this up there. My mates are so professional and then there’s me, and I hope you’re not disappointed because”

– the lyrics starts again –

“ Here I am, this is me, there’s nowhere else on earth I’d rather be”

and everyone goes wild.

- He’s an ass about love songs:

“You know, I’ve had a special request tonight” and he’d be walking on the stage, hands moving all around, “this boy comes to me, asking a song for his girlfriend because today’s their anniversary. Ten minutes later his girlfriend shows up and asks for the same thing” he stops walking “Thing is, that song is horrible, but I’m a good guy so I’m gonna play it nonetheless because love is awesome and I love love”

And then

“We need to do this the right way. Both of you, I want you in the middle of the dance floor. Make some space you people, let them dance together while we drown in our despair”

And then

“Susan, Susan can you hear me?” (the light technician)

“Susan, I want a blue light on them. Can you see them? Yeah, there, a little on the left…no, my left Susan, not your left.

“Yeah, there. Good? Let’s do this”

-“Ariana Grande? Who asked me to perform Ariana Grande? You know how high her voice is? Do you want me to choke on my vocal chords? Are you trying to kill me?!”

One of those nights, Les Amis find themselves there, thanks to Courfeyrac :

“Guys , we have to go to this bar, my friend told me the alcohol’s cheap and the singer is hot. Please please please let’s go.”

- Enjolras didn’t want to go but they bribed him because “we voted Enjolras, shut the fuck up and come with us” “uhg”

Whoops

-“ Grantaire’s the sexy singer?!” – Joly“

What the fuck” – Courfeyrac“

No way”- Bousset

“ That asshole never said a fucking thing. I’m gonna smash his head” – Jean

“Calm down, Jean”- Bahorel

“He’s really good. We could ask him to perform. We could draw in more people”- Combeferre

“Uh”- Enjolras

“That asshole”- Jean

“Jean, stop.”- Bahorel

“You really didn’t know?!”- Ponine

“You did?!”

- After the performance, they all move toward R who’s drinking at the counter with the rest of the band

- Jean is the first to arrive, hitting him on the back of his head.

Grantaire whips around

“what are you doing here?”-R

“you’ve been holding out on us! Liar!”- Jean

“What do you mean Liar?! I didn’t lie about anything!”-R

“Shut up, asshole”- Jean

“Jean, please calm down”- Bahorel

-You never said anything, why?”- Enj

“I didn’t mean for it to be a secret. We just never talked about it”

“You’re really good”

-They love you”- Courf

“Naah, they just like the music”

“Yeah, no. They love you. I love you too, now. Also, I’m attracted to you, now. That’s so strange”

“That’s disturbing. Courfeyrac, stay away from me”

“Meanie”

- Tuesdays nights at the bar become a common thing. Les amis like messing with Grantaire asking the most absurd songs.

- One night Enjolras asks for “La Marsaillase” and Grantaire laughs so hard he falls down.

- Grantaire subtly flirts with Enjolras while on stage. Enjolras can tell he’s flirting, but can’t tell with who, so he gets jealous and grumpy. Meanwhile Grantaire thinks he’s offended or something.

- Courfeyrac wants to smash their heads on the bar counter.

-In the end, Grantaire sings “Last night on earth” and then says: “Enjolras, that was for you, you obvious man”. Enjolras blushes. Courfeyrac screams.

#grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #guitarist grantaire #les mis #les miserables #les amis de l'abc #les amis #les mis headcanons #courfeyrac #combeferre #bahorel #jean prouvaire #eponine #les mis fandom #Riri's writing

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writinandcrying · 5 years ago

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could I get a matchup for bnha? I'm a 5'0 tall straight girl who likes to draw. play guitar, and sing. I'm pretty reserved, quiet, and depressing to be around but when someone actually gets close to me, I'm sarcastic and mean (in a "nice" way). I'm not easily fooled or stepped on when I talk to people and I dont tolerate people who are fake or stupid. I'm also a nihilist.

Why are y’all so perfect for the 1-A girls but you are all straighties??? I can’t hANDLE this omfg

But i respect your preferences ( although know Jiro has the BIGGEST FAT CRUSH on you just letting the word out ) I ship you with...

Shinsou Hitoshi

Uhg I love shinsou so much. He deserves the world. Tbh he didn’t think much of you when he first met you ( but that’s just who he is ) but when he hears you singing and playing guitar for the first time oh- OH. My god, broadcast from his heart you make him go boom boom boom, he blushes so hard like literally he thinks he is the dumbest for not appreciating you sooner, he likes you are a bit more reserved, thinks is soothing being around you, would def make some time and hear you out if you needed on a bad depression crisis, he know how hard it can be and not even talking about like romantic relationship, he would literally be such a good friend for you about your depression and such, would push you if you don’t want to do things but would check upon you every know and then, would ask if you have been drinking water, eating properly, he cares and shows in his own laid back way, but knows he cares so much about you like for real. He loves that you are sarcastic, loves your humor so much he lets himself go around you, it just comes naturally for him and he loves you for it, he sort of follow your nihilist ideas but he believes deep down life has to be a meaning, or at least wants to, otherwise being a hero isn’t really worth it. Your relationship is very chill and the level of trust is 👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼 10/10

Hope you liked it

Requests are open! Headcanons and match ups only

#bnha #boku no hero academia #giulia writes #hitoshi shinsou x reader #bnha shinso hitoshi #bnha x reader #bnha match up

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vegetacide · 5 years ago

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Whump●tober -Shaky Hands

Veg-notables: So I decided that this one needed a revisit as the aftermath of 10.Unconscious intrigued me.. I intended to take a break today.. oops.. failed.

@gumnut-logic ::sneak attack…::

Obligatory whumptober stuff: @whumptober2019 @la-vie-en-whump

Blanket warning: Post brain explosions.. With residual ouchiness and discombobulation

Characters: Virgil/Kayo...

Whumptober - TaG’verse

Previous post for this can be found HERE

1. Shaky hands

Enjoy…

oOo

The fight to regain consciousness was a grueling task as Virgil’s brain sluggishly began to turn over and his internal dialogue fought to crawl back to the land of coherent thought. The first snips of reality peppering in and out of cognizance were in a weird tableau of hazy screen shots that left him confused and utterly disoriented.

The first thing to really registered in the slow moving molasses of his mind was the soft pad of retreating steps. The sound stood out in sharp contrast to everything else for some reason but he just couldn’t muster the energy to figure out why. No sooner had the thought entered his mind, than it was briskly whisked away with the invasion of light flashing over his closed eyelids.

The residual ache behind his twinging optic nerves thrummed along with his heartbeat and forced him to shut down anything too complicated to process. Which didn’t leave him with much to work with except maybe breathing.

Uhg, what the hell?

Shielding his eyes as the bright afterimages swirled about the inky darkness he wanted to marshal something from his flagged system to seek out and destroy the invasive luminescence. Unfortunately that would involve ambulation and that too seemed beyond his current abilities.

A twing again.. Right, stick with breathing..

Cautiously, he cracked open gritty eyes. Blinked repeatedly at the sting as they instantly began to water. A quick, foggy eyed glance about told him what he needed to know; location. He was in his room, though how he actually got there was a blank in his memory.

From what little he could remember, he had been on the flight deck of Two running post flight checks when the first inclination of an oncoming migraine started to present itself. After that, things grew very murky. Tiny little blips of colour and texture. A hard, cold surface, ebony richness, the scent of jasmine, a soft lilting voice, a warm breath across his skin then there was nothing.

Reaching up a hand to rub at the tension at his brow, a tug on his arm forced him to open his eyes again. “..shit…” He softly cursed as he took note of the IV line and his eyes traced up the line to hazily take in the bag of saline hanging above the headboard.

He’d really done it to himself this time and he was not looking forward to sorting this mess out once he was back on his feet. With the way he was feeling though that was still a while off.

Drawing in a deep, fortifying breath, Virgil heaved his torso off the bed with herculean effort and almost immediately regretted the action when the room started to spin and distort. Maybe not one of his best ideas but considering what had transpired over the last so many hours he didn’t think he could possibly dig himself in any deeper than he already was.

Swinging his legs off the side of the bed, he leaned forward to rest his head in his hands, elbows braced firmly on his knees. He was intent on getting his ass out of bed and across the short distance to the his ensuite bathroom but as he looked up he almost groaned at how far away the door appeared to be. The temptation to just return to the soft confines of his bed was growing proportionately to his waning strength.

Staring at the bathroom door just five feet from him, he willed his body to heed his mental commands. Feet firmly planted and he readied muscles to bunch and push off when a hand landed on the back of his neck and a quiet voice whispered in his ear.

“And where do you think your going?”

Flinching as the figure behind him scared the living shit out of him, Virgil found himself thumping to the floor with a not so very manly yelp. Pressing his hand to his racing heart he cursed vehemently.

“Well, good morning to you too.” Kayo smiled leaning over the side of the bed and looking down at him. “Don’t let Grandma hear you swear like that or she is liable to wash your mouth out with soap no matter what state your head is in.”

With the easy grace of someone who knew how to handle herself, Kayo unfurled herself from the bed and crouched down beside him. “Come on, I’ll give you a hand.”

All he could manage was a grunt.

Kayo tutted and ducked under his arm to help him up. He sometimes forgot how strong she wasn and in moments like these he was grateful for the practiced ease in which she used it.

Settling him back on the edge of the bed, she unhooked the saline bag from the quick release. her eyes concentrating on the task a little too hard for his liking.

There was a pensiveness about her that he knew well. She was brooding and trying to figure out the best way to broach a subject that she was unsure of. Not a good thing considering he had a pretty good idea what the content of her musings was.

Reaching up he rubbed at the bridge of his nose and once again contemplated hermitting himself away for the next century.

Her cool hands took hold of his forearm and pulled his hand away from his face. Checking over the catheter, she made sure the valve for the quick release was securely closed and the small bit of line was fastened in place with an extra strip of medical tape.

“Bathroom.” She ordered and tugged on his arm

Back on his feet once more Kayo shuffled him off into the bathroom. She stayed a pace behind as he entered the cool confines of the tiled space and as she passed through the door, she adjusted the lights to low knowing his eyes would be sensitive to it for at least the rest of the day.

While he took care of business, she turned the shower on and adjusted the controls. The muscles across his back tightened as the tension in the room grew with each passing second. “In you get.” She said once she was satisfied with the temperature but didn’t meet his eyes.

He obeyed with little complaint. He really didn’t have the energy to put up much of a fight and besides the idea the warm water washing away the sweat and easing his tired muscles did sound appealing.

Looking down at himself he realized that he was still in his arming tunic from the other day and with a snarl he pulled it up and over his head. His boxer came next though the act of ditching those took some effort as he wobbled like a drunk on one leg. Kayo steadied him with a sturdy arm and he gave a nod of thanks.

Naked and shivering as the cool air touched his sweaty skin he dragged in a breath, got a whiff of himself and instantly paled. A lovely combination of sweat and vomit mingled in his nose and he winced as his stomach gave a retaliatory squeeze.

Biting down on the impulse to toss his cookies again; like really there was anything in there to bring up, he forced his body to move and stepped under the warm spray of the shower.

Soap, shampoo, rinse, repeat. Stand like a statue and drown.. Was that possible while in the shower?

The stall door opened and Virgil groggily opened his eyes. Probably not possible, he mused. Wow he really was out for lunch still. His thoughts were sluggish and random and head felt like it was floating above his body.

“Out you get.” Another order and she still wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Damn it.

Stepping out she dried him off and wrapped a towel around his waist before leading him back to bed. He had to admit the shower was a good idea, it had helped a little though it had sapped what little he had left in the tank on reserve.

A clean muscle shirt and boxers followed and she pulled back the sheets, an open invitation to get back in.

Effort expended, he did as she silently asked and sank back into the softness of his bed.

God, he was tired and he hated the lethargy that was going to dog him for the next few days. This episode had been a bad one. He knew he had over extended himself but what choice had he had. Lives had been at stake and if he could do something about it he was duty bound to step up to the plate, consequences be damned… or so he had thought.

Pushing the pads his fingers into his eye sockets and tried not to let the continued strained silence get to him. In his state, though his patience for waiting it out lasted a whole of thirty seconds. “Kay…”

“I wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard.” She plowed right over him. Flattened him by the tone of her voice, the worried edginess to her usually pleasing lilt.

Crap on a cracker.. Virgil pulled a heavy breath into his lungs and the exhaustion weight down on him. He was tempted to look and see who had placed the house on his back but the answer to that was obvious. Himself.

Whatever his intentions at the beginning of all of this….several days ago, he hadn’t intended on scaring her.

He kicked himself with a groan. “Kay. Look, I’m sorry I worried you. It’s been a hard few days and I didn’t plan this…”

“That’s exactly the problem.” Her green gaze shifted and lasered in on him. “You push and push and push and completely forget that you’re human.”

She turned away from him, fusing with the saline bag as she hooked him back up again. Her handling of the IV rough and it was obvious even to his foggy brain that she was uncomfortable revealing this part of herself even to him. “Do you know what it was like to see you like that?” Her voice was a whisper but he heard it loud and clear as if she had used a bullhorn.

With a bit more effort than he cared to admit, he grunted back to his feet and stepped towards her. Reaching out he caught her hand in his and was dumbfounded to find it shaking.

Words caught in his throat, he pulled her to him and wrapped her in his embrace. “I’m sorry.” He whispered in his ear, his voice rough as her shoulders quaked. Shit “I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry. I’ll try harder but please don’t cry.”

Her shoulders silently shuddered under him, the only sign that she would give of her distress and she buried her face into his neck. Her willowy arms encircling his waist and holding on tight as she tried to rein in her rampant emotions.

Christ, he’d done it this time. She never cried. He’d really scared her this time for her have become this upset.

He would rather deal with her ire and scathing tongue. Her anger was something he knew how to handle and something he much preferred. Tears though? From her? He was at a complete loss.

He would do better. He had to.

He swept a comforting hand down the length of her back and brushed a kissed across her crown. An unvoiced promise in his actions, he would do anything to make this right again.

Energy flagging, he pulled her down to the bed with him and tucked her into his side. Comfort and sleep first then they would tackle figuring this out. He would figure this out.

The fading ache behind his eyes gave a little thump. A friendly reminder of what happened when he neglected himself that he wasn’t soon to forget.

After this he was sure he was going to have to contend with his big brother… Something that he didn’t look forward to considering the state that Kayo was in.

Shit....

The End.

oOo

Next post can be found HERE

The Master List of prompts can be found HERE

#whumptober2019 #whumptober #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds 2015 #thunderbirds fanfic #thunderbirds fanfiction #no.1 #shaky hands #Virgil Tracy #Kayo Kyrano #virgil/kayo #aftermath #what the hell did he do to himself #ouch #part 2

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firefly-party · 6 years ago

Photo

Next Spirk pic.... :> Actually this only should have been an exercise...but uhg...turned out to be a bit more.... I struggled really hard with this one. Especially with Spock. I don't get why I have such big problems drawing him, while Kirk is so easy peasy for me to draw .___. uhg Anyway...

#star trek #star trek fanart #star trek aos #spirk #spirk aos #spirk art #kirk #Captain James T. Kirk #spock #t'hy'la #space husbands #kei's startrek art

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orangeoctopi7 · 6 years ago

Text

Stanswap AU Part 34

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15

Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25

Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Part 31 Part 32 Part 33

Here it is, the last chapter! Special thanks to @digikate813 and @eregyrn-falls for consistently reading and reblogging, along with anyone else who ever reblogged this story, it’s because of you that this story has spread. Thanks to @blaiddraws and @hntrgurl13 for drawing fanart (even if I did commission hntrgurl13, still grateful) and of course thanks to @busket because even if our AUs were developed independently, I still took a lot of inspiration from them and their way awesome art.

Speaking of which, this chapter draws a lot of inspiration from these posts.

Chapter 34: Hero Complex

The house was still in one piece when the kids got back. There was no evidence whether the shield spell was still holding or not, but they were all just happy to find a familiar structure to hide out in. They were about to open the door when they all heard something inside. Dipper picked up a golf club that'd been sitting on the porch, Wendy pulled out her crossbow, Mabel readied her grappling hook, and Soos took a karate stance.

“Yaaaaah!” The four friends yelled as they kicked the door open.

“Yaaaaah!” A ragtag group of townsfolk and magical creatures from the woods led by Stan yelled, ready to defend their turf.

“Wait, Stan!?” Dipper and Mabel gasped when they realized who it was.

“Kids!?” Stan disengaged the weapons system in his prosthetic, “I can't believe it! I thought I'd lost you two!”

The three of them shared a happy reunion hug. Tears flowed more freely than at least two of them would care to admit. Wendy and Soos soon joined in the hug. Even if they didn't know Stan all that well, it was still nice to see a friend after everything that had happened.

“It's good to have you knuckleheads back.” Stan said as he finally broke away from the hug.

“Why… what's everyone doing here?” Dipper asked as he surveyed the room. There were Candy and Grenda, dressed like Mad Max cosplayers, and Pacifica, who was wearing a pillowcase or something, and the Multibear, who was wearing an eye-patch on his main head, along with some gnomes, a manotaur, and the boy band Sev’ral Timez.

“Welcome to the survivors’ club.” Stan shrugged.

“Whaaa?” The kids asked.

“Eyebat!!” A gnome cried before anyone could explain. Everyone in the house scrambled to put out all the lights and close all the shutters and curtains. Dipper and Mabel couldn't help but peek outside between some blinds. Sure enough, an eyebat was flapping around outside. The sweeping beam of its paralysing gaze was stopped by a shimmering pink shield the moment it looked towards the house.

“So the shield is still working!” Dipper observed.

“Grunkle Stan, how'd this happen?” Mabel asked once the eyebat passed.

“Well, after seein’ my brother turned to gold and thinkin’ Dipper here’d been eaten, I didn't know what else to do except come back here. That's when I ran into possum breath here” Stan jabbed a mechanical thumb towards McGucket, “leading a group of stragglers through the woods. They needed a place to stay, so I took 'em all in and made myself chief. Plan is to stay here and live off Ford's food storage long as we can. Then I vote we eat the gnomes.”

“Hey, I'm short, not deaf!!” Jeff protested.

“Grunkle Stan, we can't just hide out here, there's a town in need of saving!” Dipper protested.

“Look, kiddo, we’ve got a good deal here.” Stan explained. “It ain’t ideal, I know, but we’ve got everything we need in here. A lot of these guys may look like monsters, but they’re actually pretty nice. Bear-bear here even knows Shiatzu!”

“Yes, I’ve been taking some classes.” The multi-bear nodded.

“We can stay here where it’s safe as long as we need to.”

“Grunkle Stan, you don’t actually think if we wait it out long enough Bill will just go away!?” Mabel was scandalized.

“Yeah, what happened?” Dipper asked, “Before you were all about taking the fight to Bill and not waiting a second, and now you just wanna hole up inside as long as you can?”

“Look what trying to fight Bill got us!” Stan snapped, “I wasted my only shot, that shazbot took my know-it-all brother as a literal trophy, and until you kids showed up on the doorstep a moment ago, I thought you all were dead! At least in here we can live some sort of life, out there all that’s waiting for us is death or worse!”

“But… what about our families?” Soos asked quietly.

Stan didn’t have an answer for that. He just looked away, but as his eyes swept across the room, he saw almost everyone wore the same expression: worry for their loved ones. Not long before the kids had showed up, they’d picked up a broadcast on the TV from inside the Fearamid, where they saw most everyone in Gravity Falls frozen in stone and stacked into a throne for Bill.

“Guys, don’t you see?” Mabel encouraged them as she climbed to the top of the stairs where everyone could see her, “Our friends need us, but we can only save them if we fight back!”

“Mabel’s right!” Dipper joined her, “Bill wants us to run and hide. He wants us to think he’s invincible, but Ford told me before he was turned to gold he knows Bill’s secret weakness!”

“Yeah, and then his oh-so-special research Journals were destroyed.” Stan scoffed. “We got no leads kid. I spent twelve years tryin’ to fight against Bill, and never heard nothin’ about any ‘secret weakness’.”

“Then we’ll rescue him!” The boy exclaimed, “If Ford’s the only one who knows about Bill’s weakness then we’ll have to get it from him! If we all work together, we might be able to save Gravity Falls!”

Everyone cheered, except Stan, who still seemed skeptical. “And how d’you plan on doin’ that? This is the only place where we’re safe, and it’s not like we can carry the shield spell around with us.”

“W-whoa! Holey Hootenanny! Flapjacks an’ Tiddlywinks!” McGucket suddenly burst out, his knee bouncing up and down as he thumped his foot against the floor. “Sorry, sorry,” He said sheepishly as everyone stared at him. “Just got excited is all. But I got an idea hows about we can fight Bill an’ rescue Ford! But I’ll need all’a y’all’s help!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa people, let’s not forget who’s in charge here!” Stan snorted indignantly, “I’ve been on the run from that psycho for the better part of twelve years, and now you want me to just waltz up to the guy’s front door?”

“Grunkle Stan, I’m sure we’re not gonna just walk up to the Fearamid,” Mabel assured him, “Just hear McGucket out!”

“No! There’s no way I’m leaving this house!”

Stan was not particularly happy to hear the plan involved literally taking the house to Bill. Sure, it seemed like a good idea on paper. If the only thing protecting them from Bill was attached to the house, it made sense to bring the house with them. But turning the place into a giant fighting robot!? That was just ridiculous! Nevermind the dimension he’d visited with actual fifty-foot fighting treehouse robots. He was pretty sure that was a spectator sport, and not for actual combat. Certainly not for fighting against the all-powerful ruler of the nightmare realm.

Still, as they began cutting holes in the walls and using leftover parts from the portal to build actual working giant robot arms and legs, Stan began to think this might actually work. Not that he’d ever admit that to anyone.

He’d nearly lost it when people started leaving the safety of the shield spell to try and raid more stuff they needed from outside, but so far everyone who had left for the junkyard and the amber mines had come back safely.

Now the “Shacktron”, as Soos had dubbed it after a comment on the house’s state by Pacifica, was nearly complete, and everyone was enjoying a bonfire as Mabel passed out sweaters, celebrating all they’d already accomplished and what they hoped to accomplish tomorrow.

“Uhg, I go through all this trouble to keep these survivors safe, and they’re gonna risk it all; for what? The chance that Stanford might know Bill’s weakness?” Stan complained to the only person who would listen to him, an ugly gnome who didn’t say much. “It’s a load of… of…” Stan searched his considerable vocabulary of alien swears for an appropriate phrase.

“Shmebulock!” The gnome exclaimed.

“Yeah! It’s a load of Shmebulock!” the old con man agreed. But his rage quickly died into a sigh. “It’s my own fault though. We wouldn't have to go save my brother if I hadn’t talked him into confrontin’ Bill right away in the first place. ...Bill wouldn’t even be in our dimension if my brother hadn’t opened that portal for me….”

“Grunkle Stan, is something wrong?” Mabel asked as she and Dipper suddenly walked into his field of vision. Stan jumped. He was losing his touch in his old age, he hadn’t even noticed they were there.

“Wh-bu-pft-I’m not-- I’m fine!” He spluttered. “How long have you kids been standin’ there listenin’ to me mouth off?”

“We just saw you acting grumpier than usual and wanted to make sure everything’s ok.” Mabel shrugged.

“It’s this plan to save my stupid brother!” Stan harrumphed. “I’ve been working hard to keep everybody safe, and what thanks do I get? Nothin’! But maybe he knows somethin’ about stoppin’ Bill, and suddenly everybody’s ready to risk their lives to save him. No matter what I do, it’s always ‘Stan’s the screw-up, Ford’s the hero’.”

Dipper frowned. He’d heard what Stan was saying to Shmebulock before. “Grunkle Stan, you’re not a screw up. This isn’t your fault any more than it is Mabel’s. Bill tricked you, because that’s what he does! Of course you wanted to come home! Of course you wanted to try anything to stop Bill as quickly as possible! And yeah, things went wrong, but that doesn’t mean you should hide away and beat yourself up for it! We have a chance to fix things now, and yeah, it’s risky, but at least there’s a chance that we’ll be able to save the world, instead of just accepting that this is the way things are now!”

“Yeah!” Mabel agreed, “Besides, you love risk!”

Stan gave a fond sigh and hugged the two of them. “Heh, alright, you kids’ve convinced me. I’ll get on board with Project: Long Odds. Whatever you want me to do, just ask.”

“Yes!” Mabel cheered, “Trust me, guys, tomorrow's gonna be great! We’ll save Grunkle Ford, and then you won’t have to worry about him anymore!”

“What, tch, I’m… I’m not worried about him!” Stan protested, crossing his arms and looking away. “I only care about finding a way to stop Bill, and that know-it-all is our best bet.”

Mabel and Dipper rolled their eyes. “Sure, Grunkle Stan.”

He couldn’t think. He couldn’t feel anything beyond the pain jolting through him. He couldn’t see anything beyond the burning blue light blinding him. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the ragged screaming that he no longer recognized as his own. He couldn’t smell anything beyond the crackling ozone. He couldn’t taste anything beyond the metallic tang that he didn’t have the presence of mind to realize was probably his own blood. This was his world. He knew nothing else.

Then, mercifully, it stopped, and his brain started ticking again. His thoughts and feelings slowly trickled back. He was Stanford Pines, the last one standing between Bill Cipher and destroying the rest of the universe outside of Gravity Falls. He couldn’t break. He couldn’t tell Bill what he wanted to know. He couldn’t let the demon into his mind. He could feel the manacles digging into his skin. He could see Bill and his cronies standing over him like a gang of school yard bullies. He could hear his own labored breathing and the snickering of the Henchmaniacs. He still couldn’t smell much other than ozone, but at least now he knew he was tasting his own blood. It wasn’t nearly as much as he’d expected.

“READY TO TALK NOW?” Bill asked in a bored tone.

“I-I won’t…” Ford rasped. “...I won’t… let you into my mind!”

“WHADDAYA SAY, PALS, ANOTHER 500 VOLTS?” Bill asked his audience. The Henchmaniacs laughed and cheered. Bill was winding up for another blast of electricity when they all heard a thumping noise coming from outside the Fearamid. It grew louder and louder, until… crash! A theropod head burst through the wall and roared.

“WHAT!? I JUST FIXED THAT DOOR!” Bill whined.

Ford squinted to see what was outside the Fearamid. His glasses were so dirtied with soot he wondered briefly if he might see better without them. Was that… was that his house!?

“It’s the Shacktron, dudes!” he more heard than saw Soos cheer. Oh no, what was Soos doing here!? Didn’t he realize the danger? And who else had he brought with him? Ford could only imagine what Bill would do if the triangle managed to nab all his loved ones at once.

“SO THE MORTALS ARE TRYING TO FIGHT BACK, HUH? ADORABLE!” Bill gave a cruel chuckle. “HENCHMANIACS, YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO! TAKE ‘EM OUT!”

It was hard for Ford to see what was going on from his vantage point, but he couldn’t look away. The more he watched, the more anxious he became. He could see Wendy leaping onto an eyebat, he could hear Fiddleford’s distinctive voice calling out commands, and Mabel and Dipper’s cheer after punching out Paci-Fire and Kryptos. He even caught a glimpse of Stan through a window when the Shacktron came near enough to the hole in the Fearamid. But as things went on, his fear was mixed with pride. They were holding their own! Better than holding their own, they were winning! Soon enough all of Bill’s minions were sprawled across the ground, groaning in pain.

“SERIOUSLY GUYS? YOU HAD LIKE ONE JOB!” Bill groaned.

“Bravo, everyone!” Ford cheered defiantly.

Bill sneered at him. “YEAH, ENJOY YOUR LITTLE VICTORY NOW, WISE-GUY. YOU DO REALIZE I’M GONNA GO GRAB YOUR LITTLE FAMILY AND MAKE YOU WATCH ME TORTURE EACH AND EVERY ONE OF THEM UNTIL YOU TELL ME HOW TO REVERSE THE WEIRDNESS MAGNETISM, RIGHT?”

Ford’s heart fell. “No, no you ca--” Bill re-froze him mid-sentence.

“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU, SIXER? I CAN DO ANYTHING!”

He didn’t know how long it had been when he was unfrozen. All he knew was suddenly half the town was there, freed from their stony prison, and Bill was still outside fighting the Shacktron. Mabel and Dipper were standing in front of him with identical hopeful grins.

“Kids!” Ford knelt down and hugged them both tightly, “I knew you could do it! That was brilliant!” He caught sight of McGucket just off to the side, apparently trying not to interrupt a family moment. “Fiddleford! Thank you, old friend, I know they couldn't have done it without you.”

“Aw shucks, I'm jus’ glad yer ok.” McGucket smiled as the two old scientists hugged.

“Yeah, nice to see you too, bro.” Stan grunted from behind them.

“Grunkle Ford,” Dipper piped up, “before, you said something about one other possible way to beat Bill. What was it?”

“Yeah, what's Bill's secret weakness?” Mabel asked.

“Oh, right!” The old researcher remembered, and reached for something in his pocket. But be paused mid-motion, looking around the room. “Back when I first learned about Bill, there was a prophecy painted on the cave wall as well.” Ford observed all the people standing around him, and suddenly the puzzle that had eluded him for years finally clicked into place. “Robbie, do you still carry spray paint around with you?”

“Uh… yeah. Why?” the teen asked.

“You'll see.” Ford assured him, grabbing the paint canister and quickly spraying a large circle on the floor.

“Uh, Bill's just outside, I don't know how long the others can hold him off.” Dippy pointed out.

“Yes, yes, good.” Ford murmured in reply, concentrating too hard on whatever he was painting on the floor to really pay attention to what the boy was saying.

“Well, he's finally lost it.” Stan said flatly.

“Like he didn't lose it forever ago?” Wendy asked.

“I'm perfectly sane.” Ford corrected. “And this is how we'll beat him.” He gestured to the finished image: a circle of ten symbols surrounding a simple sketch of Bill Cipher.

“With the world's most confusing game of hopscotch?” Pacifica asked incredulously.

“No… although it would make a pretty fun game of hopscotch.” Ford admitted. “This is what I found painted on the cave wall. Some of the symbols I recognized then, some of them I only recognize now, but the very first people to settle in Gravity Falls, long before any European immigrants, prophesied that these symbols together could generate a force powerful enough to defeat Bill and reverse his weirdnesses. Until now, I thought it was just superstition, but now that I see the ten symbols here in real life, I know that can't be a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?” Dipper asked, “You had this drawn in the Journals and it didn't do anything. Bill still destroyed them!”

Ford smiled and shook his head. “The symbols themselves aren't what's special. They represent people! Dipper: the pine tree. Mabel: the shooting star.”

Dipper's eyes widened as he stood on the corresponding symbol.

“Oh my gosh!” Mabel gasped reverently as she took her place.

“A question mark! This one's unsolvable!” Soos observed, completely forgetting the coin block on the Mario shirt he was wearing.

“And I knew I'd seen that broken heart on your hoodie somewhere before!” Ford said to Robbie.

“Dang man, you've been wearing that thing since the fourth grade!” Wendy pushed her friend forward.

“Whoa, destiny hoodie!” The teen said in awe.

“As well as the star from the Tent-o-Telepathy.” Ford pointed to Gideon, who was standing at the back of the crowd.

“Oooh, don't mind if I do!” The boy took his spot next to Mabel.

“Don't make a big deal about this.” Mabel warned him.

“O-of course not!” Gideon flushed, then chanted under his breath, “Be a person worthy of loving, be a person worthy of loving…”

“And Pacifica: the llama.” Ford pointed to her.

“... This is freaky.” The spoiled girl muttered as she looked between the sweater Mabel had lent her and the symbol on the floor.

“Ok, so some of the symbols are really obvious. But what about the ice? Or the glasses?” Dipper asked.

“They're not all litteral.” Ford explained, “The ice should be someone who's cool under pressure.” The two of them looked over at Wendy. They couldn't think of anyone else in the crowd who fit the criteria, and come to think of it, hadn't Dipped spilt bag after bag of ice around Wendy all summer?

“And the glasses should be someone wise and scholarly.”

McGucket smiled sheepishly and stepped forward. ��I dunno 'bout wise…”

“And Stanley, you're the fish.. thing. Whatever that thing on the end of your staff is.”

“You gotta be kidding me!” Stan rolled his eyes. “You realize this is a buncha hogwash, right? You really think a bunch of randos standin’ in a circle an’ singin’ kumbaya is gonna stop that monster!?”

“It's a mystical human energy circuit!” Ford defended.

“You said you thought it was superstition until you saw all these people together!” Stan retorted. “This isn't what you were talkin’ about before, is it?”

“...No.” Ford admitted, “But that doesn't matter now, this will work!”

“How do you know? Just 'cuz some dead guys drew it on a wall!?”

“Come on Stan! I gave your idea with the quantum destabilizer a chance, the least you can do is give this a shot!” Ford yelled indignantly.

“Don't yell at me!” Stan yelled back.

“Come on!” Wendy groaned.

“Dang it, old men, now's not the time!” Gideon exclaimed.

“Alright, fine!” Stan relented and joined the circle. “I'm not the enemy here, people!”

“Everyone else get out of here, this may be dangerous…. Now all of you hold hands!” Ford commanded.

“Oh gee, I'd love to.” Stan said sarcastically, “Except there's the little problem of I haven't got one!”

Ford gritted his teeth. “You know what I meant! Just give me your arm… stump… whatever you call it.”

“I wouldn't have it if you hadn't abandoned me, you big jerk!” Stan turned on him.

“Really!? Now of all times you bring that up!? Why do you always have to make everything more difficult than it has to be!? Why can't you ever just do as you're told!?”

“What makes you think you can tell me what to do!?”

The elder twins’ argument just devolved into fistfighting from there. Everyone watched in slack-jawed horror. Everyone except Mabel and Dipper, that is, who were desperately trying to pull their Grunkle apart. But it was too late.

“OH NO, IT'S BILL! ...THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE ALL THINKING, RIGHT?”

Bill was back.

“HAHAHAHAH! THIS IS JUST TOO GOOD! DON'T YOU BRAINIACS KNOW THE ZODIAC DOESN'T WORK IF ALL OF YOU DON'T HOLD HANDS? THANKS FOR BRINGING EVERY THREAT TO MY POWER INTO ONE EASY-TO-DESTROY PLACE THOUGH!” the demonic triangle snapped his fingers and the painting on the ground burned away, catching a few people on fire in the process. He then reached out and grabbed the elder Pines twins. “YOU GUYS WANNA SEE WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU CAN'T GET ALONG?”

“Oh no!” Dipper cried.

“You give them back!” McGucket demanded.

“You've gone too far, Cipher!” Gideon shouted.

“Yeah, we're not scared of you!” Wendy growled, raising her ax threateningly.

“OH… BUT YOU SHOULD BE.” the triangle grew another arm and snapped his finger. Dipper and Mabel watched in horror as everyone around them floated up into the air and was turned into a tapestry, each one depicting its victim in the middle of a wide-eyed scream. “LOOKS LIKE IT'S TOO LATE FOR YOUR FRIENDS, STANFORD, BUT YOU CAN STILL SAVE YOUR FAMILY!” A glowing blue cage rose up out of the ground, trapping the kids. “LAST CHANCE: TELL ME HOW TO TAKE WEIRDMAGEDDON GLOBAL AND I'LL SPARE THE KIDS.”

“No, don't do it!” Dipper cried from inside the pyramidal cage.

“Yeah, Bill makes bad deals!” Mabel agreed.

Bill leered down at her. “DON'T YOU TOY WITH ME SHOOTING STAR! I SEE EVERYTH--”

Mabel grabbed Robbie's spray paint and sprayed him in his giant eye.

“AUGH! NOT AGAIN! WHY THE EYE!? EVERY TIME!”

“I know that hurts, because I've done it to myself!” Mabel crowed.

Dipper quickly pulled out the flashlight with the size-changing crystal attached to the top and grew the cage until they could squeeze between the bars.

“We'll distract him, you guys run for it!” The boy cried to his Grunkles.

“What!? That's a suicide mission!” Ford protested.

“Don't worry! We've beaten him once.” Dipper reassured them.

“And we'll do it again!” Mabel finished. “Hey, you pointy jerk, come and get us!”

Bill finally got the paint out of his eye. He growled and chased after the kids. Stan and Ford were about to run after them too, but a blue wall of contorted bars blocked their path.

“NOT SO FAST! YOU TWO STAY HERE. I'VE GOT SOME CHILDREN I NEED TO TURN INTO CORPSES.”

The brothers found themselves in a cage identical to the one the kids had just been in. Only they had no means of escape. All they could do was bang on the bars and yell after them to stop. But their pleas fell on deaf ears.

“I can't believe this!” Stan sunk to the ground. “The kids are gonna die, and it's all my fault! All because I wouldn't just link arms with you!”

“Don't blame yourself. I'm the one who made a deal with Bill on the first place.” Ford said sadly.

“Yeah, but I'm the one who got you captured.” Stan lamented, “Dipper went back an’ tried to help you, but I… I just ran. Ugh, dad was right about me, I'm a screw-up.”

“No.” Ford knelt down next to his brother. “That's not true. You never made a deal with Bill, not in all those years he tried to convince you. If anybody's a screw-up, it's me. If I didn't drive away everyone close to me, things would have been solved years ago. I'm sorry I always made you second priority.”

Stan barked a sound halfway between a chuckle and a sob. “How'd things get so messed up between us?”

“We used to be like Dipper and Mabel.” Ford smiled fondly. “The world's about to end, and they still work together.”

“They're working together because the world is ending. That and they're too young to know any better.” Stan observed.

Ford shifted and pulled a strange object out of his pocket. It took a second for Stan to recognize it as the memory eraser from his first day back home.

“What're you gonna do with that?” The old con man asked.

“This is the one last possibility to defeat Bill I was talking about before.” Ford said gravely.

Stan's face lit up as he began to realize his brother's plan. “You mean we could just erase him outta your head the second he goes in there!?”

“Yes… but there's more to it than that.”

Stan didn't like the look Ford was giving him. He looked like a doctor about to tell their patient they had cancer. “Ok, what's the catch?”

“Bill isn't a static memory. He won't just let himself be erased, he'll hide in some remote corner of the mindscape. Unless you were to erase everything.”

Stan's expression sobered immediately. That explained why Ford had been so desperate to try anything else to stop Bill.

“What!? Are you kidding me!? You're honestly telling me there's nothing else we can do?”

“Believe me, if there was another way, I'd do it in a second. We're out of options, Stanley! The only alternative would be to actually give myself up to Bill and hope he'll let you and the kids go.”

Stan snorted. “Like he'd make good on that deal.”

“Exactly.” Ford agreed. “So, we agree on what needs to be done?”

Stan's reply was to wrap his arms around his brother and bury his face into his shoulder. “You and your snarfin hero complex! D’Arvit Ford, I don't wanna lose you again!”

“... Neither do I.” Ford returned the hug. “Don't think of it as losing me. I'll still be around. I'll still be me. I just won't…”

“Won't remember anything about me. Or anyone. Or anything.” Stan finished.

“Y-you might be able to remind me.” Ford encouraged him, “Fiddleford has been regaining his memories after they were erased.”

Stan sniffed inelegantly, failing to hide his crying, but he nodded.

They didn't have long to recompose themselves before they heard the kids’ screams, signalling Bill's return.

“ALRIGHT FORDSY, I'M BACK, AND I'VE GOT THE KIDS! MAYBE I'LL KILL ONE OF 'EM, JUST FOR THE FUN OF IT. EENY MEENY MINEY--”

“Stop!” Ford cried. “I'll tell you! Just let the kids and my brother go, please!”

“THAT'S MORE LIKE IT.” Bill said smugly.

The cage holding them dissolved away and a glowing red arm shot out of the ground, wrapping itself tight around Stan.

“No, Grunkle Ford, don't trust him!” Dipper pleaded.

“It's the only way.” Ford smiled sadly. “I-I love you all. Always remember that.”

“CUT THE SAP, SIXER. DO WE HAVE A DEAL OR NOT?”

Ford's only response was to extend his hand. Bill grabbed it, and blue flames enshrouded them both. Bill's physical form turned to stone as his mental projection jumped straight into the old scientist's head.

“FINALLY!” Bill crowed when he found himself in Stanford’s mindscape. The mental manifestation of the old man was standing there coldly. The light was reflecting off his glasses, making it impossible to see his eyes. Which didn't make sense because there wasn't actually any light. Which meant Ford was looking like that on purpose. The drama queen. “I TOLD YOU I'D FIND YOUR WEAKNESS!”

Ford did his best to ignore the mocking. He held up a book that looked just like one of the Journals. “Here it is, Bill, everything I know about weirdness magnetism.”

“AHAHAHAHAH, FINALLY!” Bill chortled, taking the book eagerly. “YES! NOW I CAN--” the book abruptly caught fire. “WHOAH- HEY!” The triangle could only watch as blue flames rapidly ate away every last page. “WHAT DID YOU--!?”

“It's gone.” Ford said evenly, a cruel grin spreading across his face. The light reflecting off his glasses disappeared, revealing a triumphant glare. “It's all gone!”

“YOU IDIOT, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE!?” Bill steamed, “I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR THIS!!”

“On the contrary, Bill,” The scientist said calmly as the entire mindscape around them went up in blue flames, “You're the one who's finally going to pay.”

Bill's eye grew wide as he realized the extent of what was happening.

“GRAH! THE DEAL’S OFF!” He growled, but as he tried to wave his arm and create an exit, nothing happened. If anything the flames rose higher. “WHAT THE-- NO! NO NO NO NO!

“YOU FOOL!” Bill raged, “”YOU'LL DESTROY YOUR OWN MIND TOO!”

“Gladly.” Ford said emphatically. “If it means you'll never do to another living thing what you did to me.”

“YOU'RE MAKING A MISTAKE, STANFORD!” Bill said desperately, “I-I’LL GIVE YOU ANYTHING YOU WANT! MONEY, FAME, RICHES, INFINITE POWER, YOUR OWN GALAXY! JUST--PLEASE!”

“Whatever I want?” Ford echoed fiercely. “What I want is to watch you burn to nothing!” He finally lost his cool and roughly grabbed Bill by his stupid bowtie. “You pretended to be my friend, only to use me and manipulate me!” He wound up and punched the triangle. “You got me to drive my only true friend away!” Another punch. “You took control of my body and used it as a play thing!” And another. “You blackmailed me!” And again. “You tortured me!” Another. “And even worse than what you did to me, you messed with my family!” He wound up one more time and punched Bill right in the eye, harder than he'd ever punched anything before. The demonic triangle gave one last strangled cry in a language Ford didn't recognize, and shattered into a million pieces.

“...It is done.” Stanford said with finality. But… it didn't feel right. He'd been fantasizing about defeating Bill for years now, and he'd finally done it! He was the hero! He'd killed the demon, been able to beat him down with his own hands, and yet… this victory felt hollow. Was it because he was losing his own mind in the process? No… he'd always been prepared to sacrifice himself in order to pay for his mistakes.

As everything burned blue around him, the last thing he found left was a familiar tattered photo of two boys standing proudly atop a rotting shipwreck. Ford realized he didn't regret what he was losing, but what his family would be losing. And even more, what he never was for them.

“I'm sorry.” He murmured as the flames licked at his feet.

Stanley found his brother kneeling in a clearing in the woods not long after all of Bill's Weirdmageddon crap cleared up. Ford was still completely out of it. His eyes were unfocused and his mouth hung open.

“Grunkle Ford that was amazing!” Dipper exclaimed, running up and hugging him. Ford jumped at the contact, surprised and maybe even a little uncomfortable with the boy in his personal space.

“Uh, sorry, are you talking to me?” The old man asked in confusion.

The boy's face fell as he pieced together what happened. “You… you don't remember me…”

“No. Should I?”

“Yes!” Mabel cried, “We're your family!”

Ford just looked at them all blankly.

“It's ok, kids.” Stan tried to reassure them, “W-we just gotta remind him, y’know?” he sat down in front of his brother and looked him in the eye. “I-I’m Stanley. I'm your brother.”

Ford was too fascinated with Stan's arm to pay attention to his words. “Your arm, it's metal!” He observed with an eager smile, “that's not normal, is it? What's it made of? How do you get it to move like that?”

Stan’s eyes welled up with tears. “C-c’mon, Ford, it's m-me, it's Stan… I'm remindin’ you, j-just like you told me to… please Ford, it-it’s me, it's Stan!” He finally broke down crying in to his brother's shoulder. “Why d’you always gotta be the hero!? Y-you jerk! W-we never got t-to make thing right.…”

Ford looked at the two children for help. “What did I say?”

They brought Ford back to the wrecked remains of his house, picking up Soos and filling him in on what had happened on the way. The young mechanic was devastated, and he joined with the others in trying to jog Stanford’s memory. They had many opportunities to try. It seemed every step along the way Ford had another question.

“Did you see that little man in the red hat run into the bushes? What was that?”

“It’s a gnome.” Dipper explained patiently, although there was a pained undertone in his voice, “You used to study them.”

“Why do they wear those little red hats?” Ford wondered, “Are they hiding something under them?”

“I-I don’t know.” Dipper admitted, but it didn’t seem to bother Ford. If anything he seemed more excited, and he made to run off after the gnome.

“Wait! Don’t run off without us!” Mabel grabbed his hand.

This stopped him, but only because he’d suddenly become more interested in the small hands holding his own. He looked around at everyone and an expression spread across his face like he’d just found the greatest puzzle of all time.

“Wait a second, I just noticed something!” He held up Mabel’s hand and compared it to his own. “I’ve got more fingers than all of you! Isn’t that interesting? I wonder why it’s like that?”

“You were born that way.” Stan told him.

“Yes, but why?” Ford asked again. Nobody had an answer for him, which only served to make him more curious.

Stan heaved a heavy sigh. “C’mon Ford, we gotta get home. We’re all tired, you must be too.”

“I’m not tired!” The old man insisted like he was a four-year-old, “I wanna explore!”

Stan looked like he was on the verge of losing his composure again, so Mabel stepped in. “Grunkle Ford, if you come home with us, I’ll show you my scrapbook, and we can teach you everything we learned about all the weird things in Gravity Falls this summer.

“Really?” Ford asked, like she’d just promised to watch his favorite movie with him. She nodded. “Come on, let’s go!” He pulled her ahead toward the dilapidated house.

Dipper had to knock the door in, and despite the building being surprisingly still structurally sound, the place was trashed. Ford didn’t seem to notice; he took the state of the house as normal, and only seemed curious with the books and papers strewn across the floor. Everyone else was in low spirits. For all the questions they were answering and all their attempts to remind Ford of who he was, nothing seemed to be working.

“We saved the world, but what’s the point?” Dipper wondered forlornly, “Grunkle Ford’s not himself anymore.”

“I don’t get it.” Stan sat down and held his head in his hands, “Before, he said we’d be able to remind him…. Well, he said we might be able to remind him. Ugh, I should’ve known he was just sayin’ that to make me feel better. I should’ve known better than to get my hopes up!” He punched the wall with his mechanical arm and left a sizable hole.

“No!” Mabel said emphatically, “I know my Grunkle is still in there! We can’t give up, guys!” She found her scrapbook lying under the entertainment center, and sat Ford down next to her on the old couch. “This’ll work. This has to work!” She opened up to the first page and showed him a picture of the three of them at the bus-stop, not long after they’d arrived in Gravity Falls.

“Here’s a picture of the first day we came to Gravity Falls!” Mabel narrated, “and here’s a macaroni art interpretation of my emotions!” She pointed to a macaroni collage of an unsure smile and a question mark.

“What about that time we went to the lake our first weekend here?” Dipper asked as his sister turned the page again and revealed a two-page spread of photos from their picnic. “Or all those times we’ve played Dungeons Dungeons and More Dungeons together?” He asked on another page.

“Uh, these are all very nice photos, but weren’t you going to teach my what you learned about the weird things in Gravity Falls?” Ford asked innocently.

“They’re photos of you, Dr. Pines!” Soos cried.

“I can see that, but I don’t remember any of this, or any of you!”

That was enough to break Stan down again. The old con man got up abruptly and retreated to the other side of the room.

Ford got up and followed him. “What’s wrong? Why do you keep on crying like that?”

Stan just shook his head and turned away, unable to speak through his sobbing.

“Is it because of me?” Ford asked worriedly, “Is it my fault?”

Stan shook his head again, but Ford seemed to know instinctively that he was lying. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what for, but…” He trailed off and his expression became thoughtful. “I’m sorry…” he repeated softly. He reached out and hugged Stan awkwardly.

Waddles entered the room, drawn by the sound of crying. The pig found two sad men standing in the corner, hugging. On of them was the source of the crying. The pig tried to comfort them the only way he knew how: snorting in between their feet.

“Waddles, do you mind, we’re having a moment here!” Ford pushed the pig away gently with his foot.

Everyone gasped and stared at the old researcher, a new hopeful glint in their eyes.

“W-what? What did I say?” Ford asked nervously, uncomfortable with all the attention.

“It’s working!” Dipper said excitedly, “keep reading!”

“Skip to my page!” Soos insisted, “He needs to remember being the greatest teacher ever!”

“I think you and Wendy are the only two who would ever call me that.” Ford chuckled.

And so they continued to look through Mabel’s scrapbook. Every few pages, Ford remembered more and more about being a teacher, a great-uncle, a researcher, and even a brother. Once they finished with the scrapbook, Stanley swept the house and found some ancient film-reels: Home videos from the elder twins’ childhood. Everyone couldn’t believe their luck. Perhaps this story could have a happy ending after all.

It was one week later, and Stanford Pines felt like a new man. His memories were more-or-less all back now. Sure, he still had some hazy moments when someone would mention something like he was supposed to know what they were talking about, and he’d have to ask for clarification, but the most important things were all back. He knew his family and his best friend and his students and all the strange, wonderful, occasionally annoying people in Gravity Falls.

Of course, with the return of his good memories came the return of the bad. Just last night he’d had another nightmare about Weirdmageddon. But it was easier to shake off these bad dreams now that he knew Bill was well and truly gone. He’d also had a heart-to-heart with Stanley about some of the darker moments in their past, but he felt so much better now that they had.

Now it was time for the kids’ birthday party, and pretty much the whole town, human and supernatural, had shown up. Mabel and Dipper were giving some short speeches after blowing out the candles.

“Y’know, on my first day here, if you’d asked me what I wanted, I would have said ‘Adventure, mystery, true friends’, but looking out at all of you, I realize that every one of those wishes came true. I’m happy with what I have.”

“If I had one wish, it would be to shrink you all down with the shrink-ray and bring you all home with me in my pocket. But since that’s impossible--” She paused and looked up at Ford, “Is that impossible?”

He shrugged and made a so-so gesture. It was technically possible but really not a good idea. People would probably get squashed or suffocate.

“--Since that’s probably impossible, my only wish is for all of you to sign my scrapbook! I’ll never forget you all!” She paused again, pulled out the memory eraser, and smashed it under her foot. Ford couldn’t believe how relieved that made him feel. “Now I’ll never forget you all!”

As the kids joked around with Wendy and her friends about technically being teens now, Stan pulled Ford away from the crowd around a corner of the house.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you in private.”

“Why, what’s wrong?” Ford asked in concern.

“Nothin’, just wanted to let you know I’ve made up my mind.”

“About what?”

“About leavin’ after the kids head home. I’m probably gonna start packin’ once this party business is over.”

“What!?” Ford cried incredulously,

“Yeah, see, this I why I wanted to talk to you about it in private.” Stan rolled his eyes.

“But… but I thought…” the old researcher stammered, “We’ve been making progress Stanley! I truly believed things between us were on the mend!” He sighed heavily and regained his composure, “But… if that’s what you feel is best, I won’t try and force you to stay.”

“Uh, thanks…” Stan said awkwardly.

“...where will you go?”

Stan shrugged. “Thinkin’ about gettin’ a ship, sailin’ in search of treasure.”

“Just… just like we always dreamed about. I… I’m happy for you, Stan.” Ford said, sounding the exact opposite of happy.

“Y’know…” Stan scratched the back of his head with his good arm and gestured with his mechanical one. “If I’m gonna hit the high seas, I’m gonna need someone who knows how to take care of this robot arm along for the ride. I’m still gettin’ the hang of it.”

“Y-you mean… you want me to come!?” Ford asked hopefully.

“No I mean McGucket.” Stan said flatly, rolling his eyes again. “Of course I want you to come, genius!”

Ford gaped at his brother for a moment before shoving him playfully, “You’re the worst!”

“I’m the worst!? You’re the worst for making me feel like a rakkpod for jokin’ with you! Why d’you gotta be so sincere?”

The two brothers re-entered the party, their arms around each other’s shoulder.

“If I could have everyone’s attention!” Ford shouted. “I’d like to officially announce my retirement!” He declared once the crowd had died down, “My brother and I have some catching up to do, so we’re leaving on a voyage, and probably won’t be back for quite some time.”

“Woohoo!” One of the teens cheered, “No physics class this year!”

“B-but what about the repair shop?” Soos stammered. “What about preparing young minds to be the scientists of tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry, Soos, but I only ever started teaching and running the repair shop so I would have a steady income while I was working on the portal. Now that Stan and I are together again… I don’t really have any reason to keep it up.”

Soos looked defeated.

“But school starts in two weeks and we’ll need a physics teacher!” A member of the school board complained.

Ford looked at Soos knowingly. “I think I know someone who could take my place.”

“Wh-me?” Soos asked incredulously. “I haven’t even got my degree yet!”

“You should be able to get an emergency teaching licensure.” Ford reasoned. “That’s how I got hired on full-time.”

“But-but you’ve got a doctorate.” Soos protested.

“Soos, you’re much better with people, and especially teens, than I ever was. And you know more than enough to teach high school. I think you’re the perfect man for the job.”

“We’ll see what the school district has to say about that.” The school board member called from the crowd.

A small group of friends and family gathered at the bus stop the next day in the early afternoon. Mabel and Dipper were all packed up and ready to go. Well, as ready as they’d ever be.

“Thanks for wearing my goodbye sweaters.” Mabel complimented her Grunkles. The elder twins were decked out in matching sweaters: Ford’s a deep blue, Stan’s maroon.

“Eh, it’s cold out, I had to.” Stan grunted.

“It’s over eighty degrees out here, Stanley.” Ford teased him. Stan responded by elbowing him playfully.

Dipper and Wendy said their goodbyes and switched hats just before the bus arrived, the ginger teen slipping him a letter as he walked away.

“Looks like we’ve said goodbye to everybody, except…” Mabel looked back at her pig sadly, “Waddles.” She got down on her knees and petted him sadly. “I don’t know how to explain this to you but… Mom and Dad won’t let be bring a pig home to California, so… you have to stay here!”

She got up to leave, but the pig playfully nipped at her skirt. The girl tried to push him away, tears streaming down her face.

Ford frowned. “Mabel, I think you should take him home with you.”

“But--”

“You’re parents will be surprised to find how easy a pet pig is to take care of. Pigs are actually very clean, certainly cleaner than that cat you have, and they don’t need that much space. I’m sure they’d be happy to have another pet! And if not, well, you can tell them it was my idea.”

“Are you sure?” Dipper asked warily, “Mom was pretty mad when she found out you’d offered to let us stay here without asking her first.”

“I’ll take my chances.” The old man assured them.

“Now hold on!” The bus driver protested, “Bringing unauthorized animals aboard a moving vehicle is strictly prohibited!”

Ford not so subtly pulled out his crossbow, and Stan charged up the blaster in his arm.

“Uh… but this, heh, is obviously a service animal, so it’s ok!” The driver chuckled nervously.

The kids gave one last goodbye hug to Stan, and then to Ford.

“I hope you know I’m not exaggerating when I say you two have changed my life.” The old researcher said fondly. “I… I don’t know how I could ever thank you enough…”

“We love you too, Grunkle Ford.” Mabel sniffed back a few tears.

Finally, they’d run out of ways to stall. It was time for the kids to get on that bus.

“Ready to head into the unknown?” Dipper asked.

“Nope.” Mabel said honestly. “Let’s do it anyway!”

Ford and the others ran along the road, waving goodbye until the bus rounded the corner and drove out of sight. The old researcher felt like a piece of his heart was leaving with them. It must have shown on his face, because just a second later, he felt Stan patting him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m gonna miss ‘em too.” the old con man said sincerely, “But hey, it’s not like we’re never gonna see ‘em again, right?”

Ford smiled. This pain in his heart was nothing compared to the joy of having his brother back. “You’re right.”

“Heh, somebody stop the presses.” Stan chuckled. “Now come on Sixer, we’ve got an adventure of our own to start!”

#Gravity Falls #Stanswap Au #Reverse Portal AU #Fanfiction #Take back the Falls #My Writing

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