#ford in peril

[nowimjustastranger]

Has Sctmo!Ford ever had to mercy kill a Stan?

Unfortunately, yes.

Usually it's in a situation where Stan shut down completely and went comatose or if he suffered an injury that made him brain dead. If Stan's Ford is around (not trapped in the portal), they almost always can't pull the plug on a brain dead Stan or coax Stan out of his comatose state. And, despite recalling their conversation when they were younger where Stan didn't want to live that way more than anything and made Ford promise to just put him out of his misery, Ford can never to it.

That's where Ford 419"3 comes in. If Stan is just comatose, Ford will use an incantation to enter Stan's head while he's asleep and see if he can bring him out of it. But if Stan is just tired, and living would only prolong his suffering, then Ford will offer a quick and painless death. Now, Ford has alien shit that humans don't have the technology to detect, so he can kill Stan and make it look like a natural death. Usually he checks the medical chart to find out what medical problems Stan has that he could use as a cover. After whichever serum is administered, Ford will enter Stan's mind again and stay with him until his mind goes dark and Ford is forced out.

If Stan is brain dead, Ford can't even communicate with him, and he damn well knows Stan wouldn't want his empty husk wasting away in the hospital, draining his brother's funds. So Ford would tamper with the machines to cause a glitch where the ventilator shut off long enough to kill Stan without alerting the staff. It would look like a temporary fault in the system, one that affected several ventilators in the hospital. The other patient's ventilators would turn back on in time to prevent death, but Stan's would not. When the system registered that Stan had flat lined, staff would be notified. Although by then Ford would be long gone.

[thelastspeecher]

@elishevart

Ooh, yes! I like that!

The first time he goes berserk, Angie was in mortal peril from something. And then after he protects her, he turns human and immediately throws up.

Angie, who has never had a familiar before, panics. Did she break him somehow? She calls one of her old vampire friends she's made over the decades and finds out that it's a side effect from Ford going berserk mode.

She promises to do her best to stay out of trouble so Ford doesn't have to deal with that again.

Ford has to go berserk mode like two weeks later.

[ds-sparrow-manufacturing-co]

something kind of iconic about getting a notification that one of my gravity falls billford posts got a like from someone with the same name as my abuser

like wow don’t like that but it’s objectively hilarious

[godsfavoritescientist]

Another piece of the puzzle has clicked into place for my bill postfinale character arc fic >:]

[primepaginequotidiani]

PRIMA PAGINA Il T di Oggi giovedì, 19 settembre 2024

[peresephoknee]

deconstructions and analyses of how fandom is utilised for profit are frequent nowadays and no one wants to hear my gurning but I do miss there not being a constant content mill of Star Wars shows. it used to feel like an event and now I’m just tired

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

I'm curious !! did the twins debate on running away and reporting ford (since in dippers mind ford's a potential cult leader) but ended up letting an 8ball or the like decide for them and thus ending up staying, like they did with grunkle stan in canon? :0 or did they just go along with it off the bat?

(this might be worded weird its v late for me atm)

------

Oh, they did in fact end up running away! While Stan does an okay job at hiding the fact that he has Stuff™ going in the background, Ford does a particularly horrible job at keeping it in the basement.

Even so, the twins' scrutiny of Stan was more in terms of legality than actual mortal peril. Ford, however, from their point of view, could very well sacrifice them during the night for one of his "demonic cult rituals" (he wouldn't, of course). They did flip a coin about it beforehand, but they ended up running away anyways.

Don't worry though! Ford managed to find and reassure them before they could get too far, and bring them back to the shack.

[stump-not-found]

Ford gets some much needed suggestions on his diet, Stanley learns the perils of fighting fair, and the entire family gets a lesson on the art of the deal.

Being a wanted criminal complicates things, sure, but that's just a Pines family standard at this point.

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

####

There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

[darlingdaisyfarm]

more mad scientist ford?? he does stuff to us PLEASE

im not very proud of my writing and ideas, im sorry

tags: sexual themes, injection, syringe, experiment, slapping, fem reader

⚛︎ :•.🧪 mad scientist!Ford

You’re sitting on the edge of his lab table, your legs swinging slightly, fingers gripping the cold metal edge because of nervousness. The sterile, sharp smell of antiseptic and strange chemicals fills the air, while Ford is focused on a task, meticulously preparing his latest experiment.

You try to exude nonchalance, crossing your legs and shifting on the table, but your heart races beneath your calm facade. The moment he glances your way, it feels like being placed under a microscope, scrutinized and exposed in the most intimate way.

“Well, well, well,” Ford’s voice is low and smooth and he straightens, finally directing his full attention at you. His gloved hands adjust the mask covering his mouth and he lifts a syringe filled with a luminous green liquid that glows like toxic emeralds. The eerie glow of his lab lights casts sharp shadows over his face, making his expression look even more predatory. “why so scared, darling?" 

His voice, muffled slightly through the mask, sounds mocking, amused as he steps closer. “don’t tell me you’re worried about growing an extra finger?” he holds up one of his gloved hands, wiggling his six fingers with a smirk.

You bite your lip, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact, to stay still despite the gleaming needle hovering dangerously near. “No, not scared,” you manage to whisper, your voice softer than you intended, laden with a mixture of fear and something close to excitement.

He tilts his head. “Oh? playing brave, are we?” his gloved hand grips your thigh, fingers pressing enough to keep you still.

“Hold still, darling,” he brings the syringe closer to your skin, hovering just above your arm. “It’ll only hurt if you move.”

“Doctor Pines, wait—” you breathe, panic creeping into your chest.

“Relax, sweetheart, you’ll be just fine. Just a little poke.”

He doesn’t give you time to answer. Your breath catches as the needle breaks the skin, sharp, immediate, sending a sting through you. You wince, lips parting as the burn of whatever he’s injected starts to settle in, spreading like a strange warmth under your skin.

“There you go, just like that,” he whispers, tracing his fingers over your arm, lingering on your skin with a slow touch, as if rewarding you for your compliance. “such a good girl, holding still for me. . .”

You shiver, heat rushing through your veins and you don’t know if it’s from injection or the way his voice sounds, how he praises and calms you.

“Didn’t think you’d be this obedient,” Ford adds, his lips brushing perilously close to your ear. His gloved fingers caress your jaw, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet his dark, satisfied gaze. “you’re being so brave, it’s making me want to reward you.”

You look at him with big eyes as his gaze drops to your lips, oh yes, his kiss would be the best reward. Please, please, kiss me, dr. Pines. You try to not move so much, but it’s impossible – your body reacts to him, every nerve tingling under his touch, you need him badly, need him to touch you, to kiss you.

The injection burns, a slow, simmering heat that radiates through your veins, sinking deep into your muscles. You bite your lip, stifling a gasp as the sensation settles, spreading warmth to places you didn’t expect.

Ford steps back, his expression shifting to one of cold concentration as he scribbles notes. “Interesting,” he murmurs, not even glancing up as he jots down observations. “Subject shows signs of heightened arousal after the introduction of the serum. Fascinating. . .” and you can’t shake the feeling that you’re just a part of his grand experiment while he continues muttering about “accelerated responses” and “stimulated neurochemistry”.

“Localized reaction along the bloodstream, increased dilation, elevated pulse,” he notes, clearly more engrossed in his findings than in your squirming.

Then, he closes his notebook and steps forward, positioning himself right between your legs.

You suck in a breath, heat pooling in your stomach and it’s like every nerve is suddenly alive under his fingertips. 

“Well?” he murmurs, his thumb tracing circles over the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. “what are you feeling, sweetheart? any noticeable side effects?”

“I. . . I feel. . .” you trail off, your voice faltering as his hand slides up, resting on your lower back, pulling you forward, bringing your bodies even closer. “I feel hot, doctor Pines.” words slipping from your lips in a dazed, needy whisper. The embarrassment only making you more aware of how desperate you are under his hands.

His eyes spark with interest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. One hand moves up, cupping your breast with a lazy grip, his thumb brushing over you in slow, teasing circles. His eyes stay locked on your face, watching every little gasp, every shiver, the way you look at him with parted lips, half-lidded eyes, breathing heavily. And then he grips harder, digging his fingers in as he rolls your breast under his palm, testing your reactions with every squeeze.

You arch into his touch, a whimper spilling from your mouth and that only spurs him on.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” Ford squeezes harder, rougher, his grip verging on painful, but it only fuels the heat building inside you, making you ache.

Then, without warning, his hand leaves your breast and a sudden, sharp slap lands across your cheek, startling you, the sting blooming hot and fast on your skin. However, that only makes you press your thighs together, desperate for more.

“Look at you, so responsive. This formula might be my best work yet!”

And that’s why, hours later, you stumble out of his lab with trembling legs, your mind hazy and his seed slowly dripping down your thighs.

[tanadrin]

lenin getting cancelled on twitter for defending sex pests and abusers in the RSDLP. trotsky defending himself for abandoning his wife and children in siberia. nicholas II posting long rants about the yellow peril bc the kaiser keeps sending him youtube videos about the plan of the dastardly japanese to destroy the white race. meanwhile in america henry ford is posting anti-semitic conspiracy theories and promising to launch a Model T into space

[tinfoil-jones]

How was Bill and Jerk-Fords interaction in the fearamid like? Assuming he got captured in your version of Weirdmageddon

I assume he didn't try to shoot Bill? Considering you mentioned he wasn't particularly invested in being the one who would kill Bill

If he did try to shoot Bill would he have succeeded though?

It'd be kinda funny if he probably could have made that shot, if only because it'd be another thing all the other Fords could hate him for. Like this guy COULD go out and kill Bill but he WON'T, and it ticks them all off

You see, while Ford wasn't particularly invested in being the person who would save the day by killing Bill Cipher, he wasn't opposed to it. He did have the killing shot; but he hit him in the hat instead of the body on purpose to destroy the last remnants of Euclydia.

The entire dimension was in peril and Ford still chooses to be a jerk instead of doing the right thing.

Bill didn't realize this until he was in the Theraprism.

Fearamid Scene:

Jerk Ford: Bill: Jerk Ford: So, how are your dead parents? Still dead? Bill: How are your dead parents? Jerk Ford: Still dead! They died in their sleep years ago from old age. Quite peacefully, in fact, because none of their children killed them.

[nowimjustastranger]

Did stcmo! Ford ever stumble upon a baby/toddler Stan? How would he react if he did?

Ford has never been notified about a baby Stan being in peril and has only had to save a toddler Stan a handful of times.

One of the mission that stayed with Ford was a toddler Stan in dimension Theta-44Y when some teenagers from the next town over started damaging property and assaulting people. It escalated when they broke into the pawn shop to smash shit up, Filbrick confronting them and taking a bat to the head when he became aggressive. The teen hadn't thought to restrain himself, so he swung with full force and fractured Filbrick's skull. The teens panicked when Filbrick went down and didn't move, one of the teens leaving their smoldering cigarette behind, which started a fire.

Caryn didn't come out of shock in time, having just witnessed her husband's death, and she passed out from smoke inhalation (ultimately suffocating trying to get to the twins). Ford 419"3 had to choose between saving Caryn or the boys, so of course he picked the twin toddlers. The pawn shop and the adjoining house were a blazing inferno by the time the emergency services arrived on scene, Ford long gone with the twins.

Ford made sure they were both healthy before bringing them to a dimension with an young adult Stan that was about to make some poor choices and get involved with some bad people that led to a premature death. So Ford stepped in and offered him a house, money, and a stable job if he took the toddlers in and raised them right.

The Stan got a day to think it over before he ultimately agreed, Ford sticking around for a month to make all the arrangements and help everyone settle in before he moved on to his next mission. He still checks in on that dimension though, pleased to note that Stan was thriving as a father.

[odinsblog]

Reckless NYPD Officer Caught On Video Trying To Intentionally Collide With Moped Rider

What’s particularly alarming is that the police car executed these dangerous maneuvers without utilizing its lights and siren, and there was no apparent indication of the officers pursuing an arrest.

In the footage, the Ford police car can be observed approaching the moped at highway speeds and then engaging in maneuvers aimed at blocking the rider’s path in the left lane. The officer behind the wheel employs braking and swerving tactics in an apparent effort to impede the moped’s progress.

Despite the perilous situation, the moped rider makes evasive maneuvers, changing lanes in an attempt to avoid a collision. However, the marked SUV pursues the rider, persisting with dangerous swerving maneuvers in an attempt to knock him down. Eventually, at the last possible moment, the rider manages to take an exit, successfully eluding the ordeal enforced by the police without sustaining any injuries.

Although the events leading up to the recorded incident remain unknown, the behavior exhibited by the police officer on duty appears to be unjustifiably reckless. Regardless of any potential prior circumstances, it is expected and mandated that law enforcement officials would follow appropriate protocols when dealing with individuals on the road.

If the moped rider had committed an offense, the police should have signaled for him to pull over. The fact that the police car did not have its lights and siren activated indicates that this was not an official police pursuit.

(continue reading)

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

“some wounds that cannot be wholly cured”

What will be the most likely consequences of Morgoth’s crown wound on Galadriel? Let’s us explore the possibilities, clues and foreshadowing:

The parallel between Galadriel's series arc and Frodo's arc as well, and you can look at... you know... a couple... sort of commoneries they have. You know, Frodo getting stabbed by the Morgul blade and Galadriel getting stabbed by the crown of Morgoth. And you know, his, sort of like, push and pull relationship with the Ring, her push and pull relationship to Sauron, which is basically the Ring personified. Hum... there's some interesting things to look at and unpack there across the series. - J.D. Payne 

Galadriel/Frodo and Sauron/One Ring parallels in “Rings of Power”

At the same time he struck at the feet of his enemy [Witch King of Angmar]. A shrill cry rang out in the night; and he felt a pain like a dart of poisoned ice pierce his left shoulder […] With a last effort Frodo, dropping his sword, slipped the Ring from his finger and closed his right hand tight upon it.

“I fear, Sam, that they believe your master has a deadly wound that will subdue him to their will […] He is not slain, and I think he will resist the evil power of the wound longer than his enemies expect. I will do all I can to help and heal him. […] Findol will lead you onward, he shall see you safely to Rivendell.”

“What happened at the Ford?” said Frodo, after they had recovered. “It all seemed so dim somehow; and it still does.” […] “I don’t know.” Frodo answered. “They [the side and shoulder] don’t feel at all: which is an improvement, but” -he made an effort- “I can move my arm again a little. Yes, it is coming back to life. It is not cold,” he added, touching his left hand with his right.

In “Fellowship of the Ring”, Frodo is injured by the Witch King of Angmar, using a Morgul blade. In spite of being physically healed by Elrond, this wound never fully heals, not even after the One Ring is destroyed and Sauron is defeated. And on its anniversary, Frodo becomes seriously ill.

In Two Towers, Frodo can sense the wound whenever the Witch King is nearby:

a Rider, all black, save that on his hooded head he had a helm like a crown that flickered with a perilous light. Now he was drawing near the bridge below, and Frodo's staring eyes followed him, unable to wink or to withdraw. […] Here, yes here indeed was the haggard king whose cold hand had smitten down the Ring-bearer with his deadly knife. The old wound throbbed with pain and a great chill spread towards Frodo's heart.

Frodo also got a nasty scar for life:

One evening Sam came into the study and found his master looking very strange. He was very pale and his eyes seemed to see things far away. “What’s the matter, Mr. Frodo?” said Sam. “I am wounded,” he answered, “wounded; it will never really heal.” But then he got up, and the turn seemed to pass, and he was quite himself the next day. It was not until afterwards that Sam recalled that the date was October the sixth. Two years before on that day it was dark in the dell under Weathertop. Time went on, and 1412 came in. Frodo was ill again in March, but with a great effort he concealed it, for Sam had other things to think about.

“Alas! there are some wounds that cannot be wholly cured," said Gandalf. “I fear it may be so with mine," said Frodo. "There is no real going back. Though I may come to the Shire, it will not seem the same; for I shall not be the same. I am wounded with knife, sting, and tooth, and a long burden. Where shall I find rest?” Gandalf did not answer. Return of the King

This wound forever changes Frodo, and it’s only a blade forged by Sauron, what consequences will Morgoth’s very own crown, a object filled with dark magic, have on Galadriel?

If Frodo’s wound is anything to go by, the hypothetical consequences will be it will never heal; and, straight out of “Harry Potter”, the wound will hurt whenever Sauron is near.

And can 2x08 already have provided us with some foreshadowing on this?

Galadriel's case

First things first: Morgoth’s crown is not a Morgul blade, per say. “Morgul-knifes” were dark magic weapons forged by Sauron in Minas Morgul, to gift the Nazgûl. This is necromancy, and they, indeed, turned victims into slave wraiths to the Nine and to Sauron himself (and this was the goal in stabbing Frodo, for him to surrender the One ring).

The difference here is: the tip of the Morgul blade would remain inside of the victim to complete this wraith-transformation process (this happened to Frodo, and the tip had to be removed); and the sun would vanish/destroy them (this also happens in “Fellowship of the Ring”, when the Witch King leaves the blade behind).

We know neither of these things happened with Morgoth’s crown (which was forged by Morgoth, and reforged by Sauron, to fit himself). And I highly doubt Morgul-blades had the power to destroy Sauron’s physical form, either (this is another misconception: he lost the ability to take on “fair form” after the Fall of Númenor, not physical form).

Unless we are assuming Sauron “took notes” from this event with Galadriel, and perfected the method with his own Morgul-knives, but his overall attitude and his smile of victory seems to imply he knew exactly what he was doing in this scene.

Which leads me to the next theory: blood binding. The entire fighting sequence appeared to be a charade building towards one moment: Sauron binding Galadriel to him. He did, after all, stabbed her with a dark magic object infused with his own blood (Adar used it to destroy his previous physical form, in 2x01).

2x01 / 2x08 parallels: “Only blood can bind.” (Adar; 1x05)

We saw Sauron mind-communicating with Galadriel after the stabbing. To me, this scene marks the beginning of his grouping of her mind, for thousands years to come (because we haven’t seen this in the show, yet).

Visually, we have some clues that seem to indicate this, indeed, happened:

These shots can imply blood binding theory is correct, and Sauron might have transferred some of his powers to Galadriel. This is not mere “camera work”: in the first screenshot it’s Sauron looking down at Galadriel, and the second is Galadriel waking up. The effect on both is the same; hinting a sharing power between them.

And Sauron didn’t do this “by accident”; not only he’s been a master in blood magic for over thousands of years (probably for longer than Galadriel herself has been alive), but this was his intention ever since 1x08: “you bind me to the light, and I bind you to power.”

Then, "Rings of Power" appears to have taken some inspiration from these dark veins on Galadriel's chest in her "elf-witch" form in Peter Jackson adaptation of "The Hobbit", for Sauron's wounds from Morgoth's crown in 2x01:

We can see the dark veins appearing on his neck, face and forehead:

Interestingly enough these are the same veins on Frodo’s wound from the “Fellowship of the Ring” adaptation (2001), so I’m not sure why Peter Jackson decided to place them on Galadriel’s chest, in 2014.

Anyway; can this be a clue towards something? Will we see this version of Galadriel in “Rings of Power”?

In Tolkien lore, Galadriel is a powerful “elf-witch”, an Elven queen of great magic and power, however in "Rings of Power" we haven't seen her either dealing nor displaying any kind of magical abilities. Yet. Having her blood bound with Sauron can be the show’s explanation for her source of magical power, as well as to why she never faces him directly, working against him from afar, and why Sauron couldn’t conquer Lothlórien unless he went there, himself; as well, as for Sauron’s grouping of her mind for thousands of years into the future, and how Galadriel is able to see into his mind, as well.

The Unexplicable Wound on Galadriel's Face:

A mysterious wound appears on Galadriel’s face, and some fans seem to think this might have been an error in editing. But, is it, really?

We know, for a fact, Sauron didn’t cut her face; he didn’t had time for that. Galadriel cuts his face, he turns around and goes for the stabbing in the next minute. But, in the meantime, the wound is already on her cheek (and is the same as the one she cuts on his face):

However, there’s another character with the same wound:

And this wound isn’t meaningless, because the scar is still visible on Galadriel’s face, even after her healing by Two of the Three Elven rings of power. She had several cuts on her face, but they were nearly gone but this one (besides the obvious camera focus).

And this scar looks off, because it doesn’t look like a cut scar, but a burn mark, almost.

Even stone cannot hide the mark of one whose very hand is flame unquenched. He was here... Sauron was here. Galadriel arrives at Forodwaith, 1x01

But what does this mean? When did Sauron ever touched Galadriel's cheek? He touched her chin, in 1x08. And how is Elrond connected to all of this? Why do these three characters share the same scar, in the same place?

Because the "Elrond in the tent" in 2x07 was not Elrond, at all. It was Sauron. Context: here, here, here, and here.