#blame the strong horses I rode as a kid for my fucked shoulders

[jaguarracing]

my joints make waaayyyy to many noises for it to be healthy…

…also I miss my physio and osteo

#like mates I had JUST got on a good alternative every second week rotation and it was great #I HURT IN ALL THE PLACES!! #god I need a proper massage #my poor neck and traps #yes I’m one of those need constant maintenance work people #blame the strong horses I rode as a kid for my fucked shoulders #oh and my oddly loose joints and tight muscles

[songofseraphine]

Home Is Where the Horse Is

 Part Two of The Song of Seraphine

Warnings: Adult themes and cursing.

A/N: Thank you again for reading and voting!  Here is another chapter for you all!  Also this does NOT follow the show story line directly, so little to no spoilers :)  Also please let me know if I should start a tag list for anyone that wants to keep up!

Part One

One would think that after faking your death living would be easy.  It was not. The first month after her faked death, Seraphine spent lurking in the shadows, visiting villages she had never heard of before and barely uttering a word to anyone.  The second month she had enough courage to sit in a tavern again and enjoy a warm meal but not without covering her face with the hood of her cloak. The third month she talked herself into commissioning a weapons forger to make her a new bow to replace the one she had lost when she met Geralt.  Her conversations were kept short along with the amount of time she spent in a single village.  Her funds were dwindling and while she still had enough to book passage elsewhere she still had something to do before she left her homeland.  On the fifth month she roamed the outskirts of her village. An hour north and she would reach an old cabin with a barn and windmill.  It all looked the same as it had years before.  The garden just outside the front of the cabin was full of produce that needed picking and the daffodils and snap dragons near the windows bloomed in abundance.  It looked much more like a home than she remembered.  

              Seraphine dismounted from Vega and left her to graze just to the side of the cabin as she gained the courage to knock on the door.  There was movement in the cabin followed by what Sera thought was a child laughing.  “I told you Deter, you are not allowed to answer the door,” said a woman just on the other side.  “You are not yet old enough…”  Just then the door swung open and the woman on the other side, holding a baby on her hip, turned to great her visitor but stood in shock when her eyes landed on Sera.

              A boy about three years of age stood behind the woman’s skirts and looked up at Seraphine.  “Who’s that, Mommy?” he asked while looking from his mother to Sera.  “Why does she look like you?”

              The woman looked like she was either going to scream or cry, maybe both. “Hello, Faye,” Seraphine said but the woman shook her head then looked out around the outside of cabin as if expecting someone to be watching.  

              “Get in here,” she said then grasped Sera with the hand that wasn’t holding the infant and pulled her inside, quickly shutting the door behind her. “Deter come over here and play with your sister for a moment, yeah?  I’ll make you some cakes later,” she set the baby on the floor near a pile of wooden toys and the boy joined her.  Then she walked over to the other side of the cabin and put a kettle of water over the flames of the fire place.  “What are you doing here?”

              “Nice to see you too sis, what’s it been three… four years?” she said with a bitter laugh.

              “You know you can’t call me that here…  I am Sera here.  You know this.  You were the one who planned it all out,” her sister said while brushing through her long brown curls with her fingers.

              “Even in the privacy of your home?” Seraphine asked as she leaned against the wall just beside the window.

              Faline’s shoulders visibly tensed at Sera’s words.  “I have to now.  I have them,” she motioned to the two children.  “Children aren’t as careful as adults.  I can’t have them know me as one name but tell them to call me another. It was just easier.”

              “You mean easier to pretend I never existed… rather that you never existed,” she said with a roll of her eyes.  She kept her voice low even though she wanted to scream.  “Your son didn’t even know you had a sister till he saw your twin in the doorway.”

              The kettle whistled and Faye stepped away from Sera to get it.  Sera wiped her eyes quickly in hopes Faye wouldn’t be able to see that she was crying.  Faye poured them both a cup of tea but Sera wasn’t interested.  “Why did you come here?” her sister asked while sitting in one of the two chairs that sat near the old table.

              Sera liked to think she had thick skin but even that hurt her.  “To see you, Faye… sorry… Sera,” she scoffed and stepped away from her sister.  “I’ve been through hell for you, sister, while you have been here with Will… playing fucking house,” she said and waved a hand in the direction of the children.

              Her sister stood from her chair and stepped towards Sera.  “I didn’t ask you for this, Sera,” she said, her voice a stern whisper.  Faye’s jaw clenched the same way Sera’s did when she was angry.

              Sera squared her shoulders and locked eyes with her twin.  “You would have died if I hadn’t done this.  If you would have married that monster he would have killed you and if you would have ran as I did you wouldn’t have made it to Temeria, admit it,” she said with venom in her voice and tears welling in her eyes once again.  They watched one another and eventually Sera sighed, her shoulders dropping.  “I didn’t come here for this.”

              “What did you come here for, sister?  Money?” she asked making Sera let out a bitter laugh.

              “No, no Faye.  I am in no need of money,” she said and looked over to the children who were still playing with their toys.  “I came to see you, to say goodbye, even though I knew it was dangerous,” she said then looked back to her sister.  “He’s still looking for you, after all this time he is still on the hunt for his Faline.”

              She nodded.  “I know. His men come here a few times a year and search the place.  They fully believe I am you,” she said then took a sip of her tea.  It was silent between them as Sera finally took the other chair.  “I thought he would have given up at this point, found some other poor girl to obsess over…”

              “Yeah, sis, you really broke his heart,” she said with a laugh.  She took a sip of her tea and cleared her throat. “I don’t blame you for the situation I have gotten myself in, Faye,” her voice was low again so the children couldn’t hear her.

              Faye’s eyes filled with tears and she quickly wiped them away.  “I know… Sera, I know,” she said with a cry.  “I just feel like I took this away from you,” she motioned to the cabin and her children.

              Sera smiled and took her sister’s hand in her own.  “We both know this is not who I was, thank goodness we were the only ones to know that or else your cover would have been blown long ago,” she said and they both laughed.  “This house… kids… that was never in the cards for me, sis.”

              Faye squeezed her sister’s hand.  “You can stay in the barn tonight if you’d like,” she said but Sera shook her head.

              “You said his men come and search the place occasionally.  I can’t be here when he happens to call a search.  I shouldn’t be here now,” she said and stood from the table and then quickly untied the small coin purse from her waist belt.  She poured half of its contents onto the table, ignoring how wide Faye’s eyes got. “Take care of yourself, Faye.”

              She then started for the door, not planning to take another look back at her sister.  “I’ll tell Will you were here,” she said making Sera stop in her tracks.  She turned back and locked eyes with her sister until her vision began to blur.  “He still cares for you.  I look like you, I use your name… I had his children… but it was always you.”

              Sera wiped away the tears from her eyes and shook her head.  “I can’t be, not anymore,” she said and turned back towards Faye.  She rested her hands on her sisters shoulders to get her attention.  “Tell him I’m dead.  The news of my death should be reaching here soon anyways… don’t tell him I was here, tell him I am dead, Faye, then go and tell yourself the same thing.”

              Faye threw her arms around her and sobbed.  “I love you.  I don’t deserve the care you have given me.”

              Sera returned the embrace then pulled away knowing it was past time for her to go.  “I love you too, sister.  I must go. Give your boy milk of the poppy in some tea, he will sleep.  If he asks about me when he wakes, say it was a dream and deny anything he says about me, understood?” she asked and her sister nodded.  “Goodbye,” she said then walked out of the cabin for the final time. She left quickly and didn’t allow herself to look back as Vega galloped her away from her old home.  That wasn’t her place anymore and it never would be again. It was an all too familiar feeling of knowing she could never return to her home.  She rode, and she didn’t care where Vega was taking her.  She was dead to the world as far as they knew and she could leave once she gained back the coin she had given to her sister.  She would be able to take on her birth name. No more lying, no more pretending… And although she was no longer weighed down by the looming fear of never being safe, she found herself wiping away tears brought on by memories of the past.

That same cottage with the garden and the daffodils and snap dragons growing near the windows had been in the family for many generations now.  Seraphine and Faline had been born there and they had grown up there just as her father had before them.  Their mother, long passed, had been buried there just past the windmill.  Their father was a hunter and made a living for himself and the girls by selling the meat and furs from his game.  He was a good man but was often criticized by the people of the village for his soft nature towards his daughters.  He let them go to the markets on their own and never discouraged them voicing their opinions, only warned them that some may not take too kindly to a woman with a strong opinion.  He was not one of them though.  He thought his daughters to be well-read, strong women and he was okay with that.  

Faline was much like their mother.  She tended to the garden and cooked most of the meals while Seraphine joined their father on his hunts.  It was nearly impossible to tell the two apart.  If not for how they wore their hair, one would be convinced they were the same person.  Faye wore her long brown locks braided up into a bun at the nape of her neck while Sera’s brown curls rarely went past her collarbone.  Her short hair allowed her to be able to hunt with a little more ease.

Sometimes on their hunts, she and her father would be joined by a boy from the village, Willam.  “Faye said that last time she went to the market the Blacksmith’s son couldn’t take his eyes off of her,” Sera said as she and Will, now grown, sat in a clearing to enjoy some food and a rest from their hunt.  It had been just the two of them on hunts since her father had passed the year before from a cough that never went away.  

“Does she like the Blacksmiths son?” Will asked, getting an amused chuckle in response.

“No, she said he is an imbecile and has, as she said, looks that could never overshadow his stupidity,” she said and this time they both laughed.  

Their gazes landed on one another as Sera popped another berry into her mouth and chewed.  “What of me?  Do my looks overshadow my stupidity, Seraphine?” he was teasing her now.  

Sera rolled her eyes and threw a berry at him.  It bounced off his chest and landed in the grass beside them.  “Please, Will, next to my sister you are the smartest person I know,” she said as she dropped another berry into her mouth.

“And what of my looks?” he asked with a smirk.

Sera gave him a gentle nudge with her elbow and grinned. “I’ll admit, you’re quite handsome as well.”

“Oh?” he said, his dark brown raising.  “Is that so?” he grinned and she nodded while leaning into him.  Their lips met and his month tasted of berries.  She grabbed the collar of his shirt, daring to pull him even closer.  They had been fond of one another for many years and their friendship as children had blossomed into them being lovers. While Faye knew of their fondness for one another she didn’t know that Sera had given all of herself to this man. “Not to ruin the mood, but has your sister thought about maybe allowing the blacksmith’s son to get close so Mayor Ferdand may leave her be?” he asked.  He was right though, he had ruined the mood. Anytime Sera had to talk about the village’s Mayor a sour taste would invade her mouth.  But Will had a point.  If Faye did accept the attention that was being given to her by the blacksmith’s son, she just might get Ferdand off her back.

“You’re right, Will, but I sure as hell am not going to be the one to bring it up to her,” she said while standing up and brushing the grass of her riding trousers.  “We should head back.  I am sure she will have supper on for us by the time we get there.”  

Will reluctantly nodded and followed suit. When they arrived at the small farm house they were not welcomed by Faye in the garden as they usually were when they came in from a day of hunting.  When Sera realized the door to the cabin stood agape she sprinted towards it, not hearing Will call out to her.  What welcomed them would change their lives forever.  

 Sera shook the memories from her mind and wiped the tears from her eyes as she continued galloping away from her home.  She didn’t know where she was headed and she didn’t really care.  She had no plan other than to live, whether that meant with a purpose or not.  She had Vega at least, the only thing she could consider a home now.  Wherever she went Vega followed and for now… that would have to do.

#the song of seraphine #geralt x oc #geralt fanfiction #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher oc #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher x oc #witcher fanfiction #fanfiction #adventure #eventual romance

[masked-fox-creations]

When the Strangers Blew In, Ch. 23, The Finale

This is it.

Summary: Stanford and Stanley Pines dream of a different life. One where they’re not just tidying their pa’s shop or helping ma take care of the baby. Where they can live freely as the men they know they are, instead of pa hounding them to marry before they become spinsters. They get a taste of that possibility when two strangers blow into town, but with them comes a heap of trouble.

Pairings: Rick/Stan (stanchez); Fiddleford/Stanford (fiddauthor)

Warnings for this chapter: Preparing for an execution, fighting, a not too graphic gun injury, lots of guns waving around, some general misgendering and dead naming as par for the course. 

ao3 link

Chapter 23- I know I'll Hear You Singing Underneath Those Lonely Stars

Rick and Fiddleford watched their partners being drug away helplessly, a sinking feeling growing inside them that said this was the last they’d ever see of the twins.

As they disappeared out of sight, their yells of protest fading with them, Filbrick ordered the pair to keep moving. Exhausted and verging on delirious they didn’t struggle as the other men led them through the sleeping town. They ended in a part of Gravity Falls neither were familiar with. Filbrick dismounted and motioned with his gun for them to go into a little shed. Rick thought about spitting on the bastard as they passed him, but they hadn’t had water in nearly twenty-four hours. It was very cramped inside, even more so when the door slammed behind them and the sound of a padlock clicked into place.

It was dark, save for a few holes in the walls and roof. It afforded them little illumination. They stumbled about in the darkness. Besides the floor there was a small bench to sit on, which Rick found by banging his knee on it. They both could just barely fit on it if they pressed together.

“Fuck,” Rick said hoarsely, letting his head thud back against the hard wood.

“There was no moon.”

Rick glanced at Fiddleford, though he could hardly see the other man.

“Nope,” he replied, resting his head against Fiddleford. It was the only comfort he could offer with his hands bound behind him.

“We’re going to die, Rick.”

“Probably.” Fiddleford let out a deep sigh. “At least the boys are alive. They’ll find another way to escape this place again, I’m sure of it.” “They’re pretty resourceful,” Rick agreed. “You should get some sleep, Fidds.”

He snorted. “Why waste the last few hours of my life?”

“Wh-who knows, maybe we’ll figure out way out of this. We’ve done it before.”

“You’re right,” Fiddleford replied with a forced optimism. “We better save our strength for our moment of sudden brilliance.”

They didn’t get any sleep.

——

It was nearing sunrise. Slivers of pink light streamed in through the cracks of the shed. Rick had never hated the sun more.

Beside him Fiddleford’s head was bowed, eyes tightly clenched as though trying to shut out their predicament. Rick knew what this was, even if Fiddleford’s hands weren’t in the usual position. For a moment Rick simply watched his partner pray.

He believed once, when he was a kid. Rick wished he could feel that sort of faith again but he was just too tired.

When the silence threatened to destroy the last of his nerves Rick finally asked, “Praying for your eternal soul?”

Fiddleford shook his head. With a heavy sigh he admitted, “I’m prayin’ fer th’ boys. I’m afraid what’ll happen to ‘em after we…after we’re gone.”

“Nothing good,” Rick mused.

The pair fell silent. Slowly Rick’s hands balled, ragged nails digging into his flesh; he desperately wanted to punch something until his fists went numb.

“I-I-I should have realized what kind of man Filbrick was the second I laid eyes on the bastard. I’ve seen enough of his kind.”

“Ya can’t beat yourself up over that, Rick. Just because you didn’t have a good mother doesn’t mean you have some sixth sense for awful parents.” If he wasn’t tied up he’d have put a comforting hand on his partner. Instead Fiddleford leaned over and pressed his forehead against Rick’s shoulder. “I wish we had known just how awful a man he is, too, but I don’t blame you or me for not realizing it. Just like I don’t blame the boys for not telling us.”

Rick sighed and unfurled his hands. Regret was useless now, anyway.

The shed door was thrown open and their heads snapped up. The figure was bathed in shadows, but as it loomed over them the pair knew who it was: their executioner.

“Get up,” Filbrick growled.

“Or what? Y-you’ll shoot us?”

Pain erupted across Rick’s face as Filbrick backhanded him. Then he was being pulled to his unsteady feet. He teetered dangerously, but the other man had a strong hold on the front of his shirt.

Fiddleford stood without any prompting, and they were marched out of the tiny shed. The sunrise assaulted their sensitive eyes. They weren’t allotted the chance to adjust. Shoved forward, the pair stumbled a bit but managed to stay upright. They trudged forward, led by the sheriff.

Instead of a procession of silence, they were forced to listen to inane chatter as Bud and Preston discussed first the exceptionally pleasant weather, then wedding plans.

“A double wedding, of course. I’m sure that would delight the girls.”

“Indeed. I’ve already marked several dresses for Leah to choose from.”

“Ah, so have I. There’s one in particular I know would look strapping on Leanne.”

“The one with a blue ribbon on the back of the bustle, and embroidered flowers down the skirt?” Bud hummed in confirmation. “I was leaning towards that one, as well. They would look splendid in it.”

Rick and Fiddleford shared a look of pure disgust.

“I can't wait to die so I don’t have to listen to this anymore.”

“This hogspittle is either meant to torture us, or the real means of execution.”

That earned both of them a butt of a pistol slammed into their backs, causing them to lurch forward and cry out in pain.

Finally they reached a familiar part of town. The dance platform was set up and suddenly they were back on the last pleasant time they’d had in Gravity Falls. Not just pleasant, spectacular.

Until the bastards beside them had ruined it.

Standing like a mockery to that day, a beam with two nooses hanging from it was attached to the platform.

Powers went up first. When Rick and Fiddleford faltered Filbrick pushed them forward none too gently. They walked up the steps with heavy feet, unable to do anything but let themselves be led to the rope. They stood there staring out at the waking town, and at the simple tools that would end them.

“Rick?”

“Fiddleford?”

“I don’t want to die.” Rick shrugged with a forced nonchalance. Fiddleford tore his eyes from the waiting rope and gazed at his partner. “I love you, Rick, and I’m so glad you came into my life.”

“Yeah, same here.” In a few minutes nothing would ever matter to them again, because they would be nothing but dangling corpses. Rick turned and met his partner’s glistening eyes. “I-I love you too, Fidds, and I love Stanley.”

“And I love Stanford.”

“Hell, there are worst things to die for, right?” Rick flashed him a grin. “In the end we win, because we got what they want and will never have.”

Fiddleford let out a surprised laugh.

“That’s one small comfort, at least. Another is that they’re safe, and I know they’ll take care of each other.”

“Yeah,” Rick agreed, facing forward once again. He gazed past the taunting rope, out into the distant forest. “Ah-ah, at least they’re not alone.”

——

Back in their preferred clothing, Stanley and Stanford looked around the clearing they were waiting in. So far it was a clear skied, beautiful morning.

It was almost like a dream. The twins tried not to think too hard about what they were about to do—overthinking might break their illusion of hope. What if it really was a dream and they woke back up alone together in that cell, morning sun streaming in to mock them?

But ma was there, shotgun loaded and ready with a confident grin on her beautiful face.

“You look worried, boys.”

“Well, we are about to enact a risky, chaotic plan that is the last hope to save our partners from certain death,” Stanford pointed out, adjusting his glasses.

“Sounds like fun to me,” Carla quipped, coming up behind the twins and throwing her arms around them.

“A helluva way to say goodbye to Gravity Falls,” Stanley agreed.

Suddenly Susan burst into the clearing, Shmebulock on her shoulder. As she tried to catch her breath the gnome chattered rapidly.

“Whoa, slow down, buddy. Where were they headin’?” Stanley asked.

“Shmebulock!”

“We saw the nooses being set up earlier in the middle of town,” Susan added. “We don’t have much time.”

“Then let’s get this rescue started,” Martha said, twinkle in her eye.

The others nodded.

“Susie, you and Shmebulock go get the rest of the gnomes,” Stanley instructed. “Carla, ma, you go on ahead and make sure Rick and Fidds don’t meet their end yet. We’ll be there soon.”

“With Stanley’s history this shouldn’t take us long.”

“Laugh it up, Stanford, but this time you’re gonna enjoy me setting something on fire.”

Stanford hummed in agreement as the twins mounted their horses. With a quick goodbye the group went their separate ways, Stanford and Stanley heading towards the Sprott barn. It was deserted, no doubt everyone attending the hanging.

As Stanford set all the animals loose, Stanley ran into the barn. He grabbed the lamp hanging by the doors and lit it with matches Carla had given him earlier. Then he slammed it down beside the large pile of hay in the back. The glass shattered, and almost instantly it was set ablaze. Stanley hightailed it out of there, hungry flames licking at his heels.

He let out a jovial laugh as he raced by his twin, grabbing Stanford’s arm and running together to their horses. Stanford matched his laughter and they rode out towards the others, and their men.

——

The nooses danced somberly in the wind. There was a crowd gathered now, but Rick’s mind was too far away to hear what they might be saying. Condemning them or demanding their release it didn’t matter; no one could change their fate. Rick felt like his soul had already left his body.

Powers slipped the rope around their necks, Filbrick’s stony glare never leaving them. While Fiddleford didn’t meet his gaze Rick cast a quick, hate-filled glance. He couldn’t bare to look at him too long, however.

“As men, even criminals like you have the right to last words,” Powers announced.

“H-h-how noble.”

“I could think of a whole speech on how unjust this whole business is,” Fiddleford told him, holding his chin high even as it quivered, “but why waste my breath.”

Rick admired his partner’s bravado, futile as it was. It gave him his own spark of defiance, and he spat at Filbrick. Mouth still dry, however, it didn’t fly far enough to reach the stoic man.

There was a sudden commotion in the crowd, drawing the sheriff’s attention. Smoke spiraled high in the distance and the farmer that had stopped the group on their way into town started hollering about his farm.

“All available men with me to Sprott’s farm,” Powers instructed, voice booming over the noise.

He left their side, but as Powers moved past Filbrick the other man gripped his arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“Filbrick, there is a fire. I have a duty to stop it before it spreads.”

“You have a duty to finally rid me of these vagrants before they manage to do any more harm.”

Powers narrowed his eyes, and for a moment neither looked away. FIlbrick won out soon enough, Powers’ shoulders drooping defeatedly.

“Sprott!” he called out, not tearing his eyes from Filbrick. “Grab my deputy. We’ll be along soon enough.”

He ripped out of Filbrick’s hold and stomped back over to the condemned men.

“Last words,” he ground out.

Rick and Fiddleford hardly dared to believe the budding hope washing over them. Maybe it was a coincidence, and a part of them thought back to the terrible fire that had ruined their lives once before—what if this time it was the twins burning alive?

Then something caught their eyes, a familiar movement of tiny figures, and the pair grinned.

Rick turned to the bastards responsible for the nooses hanging around their necks and told them, “L-l-lick my balls, motherfuckers!”

——

The twins galloped over to their ma and friends. Both Jeff and Shmebulock were there, as well. After dismounting they handed the reigns over to Susan then crouched down behind the barrels. They were a safe distance from the gallows while still keeping it—and their partners—in view.

Men came running by and everyone ducked, but they went unnoticed. The group were headed in the direction of the fire.

“Well, now or never, boys,” ma said.

The twins nodded and looked down at Jeff.

“Go make yourself useful for once,” Stanley told him.

“Anything for the women of my heart!” Jeff whistled, and the rest of the gnomes scurried out of their hiding places towards the gallows. He turned to them hopefully. “How about one little kiss for luck?”

Ma scruffed the gnome and tossed him as far as she could. Shmebulock scampered after him.

There was chaos. The gnomes swarmed over the crowd, making their way to the stage. Several latched onto Preston and Bud. The pair screamed and flailed about; Bud stepped back, foot going off the side of the platform. He grabbed onto his partner, but instead of steadying himself all he managed to do was pull them both over the edge.

A few more gnomes jumped at the sheriff and Filbrick. The latter had drawn his gun, but one of the creatures grabbed his hand and bit down. Filbrick’s pained shout was just the cue they had been waiting for.

“Alright, ma, we’ll see you later,” Stanley said as the twins prepared to jump into the fray. They paused at her next words, however.

“No you won’t. Not if you succeed.”

It suddenly struck them how right she was. They turned to her like lost children.

“We ain’t got time for goodbyes, boys,” she told them, and they swore her eyes were moist. She pecked them both on the forehead. “I’ll always love you.”

“Ma…”

“We love you, too,” Stanford said.

“Oh, no reason to take on like so!” Carla spoke up. “What? You think once you escape with your men things won’t change around here? Hell, maybe I’ll be the new sheriff.”

“Now that I would love to see,” Stanford laughed.

“Alright, we’ll see you later. I mean it.”

Stanley flashed them a grin and then the twins were off.

Rick and Fiddleford were beaming by the time they reached the platform. Hopping up Stanford whipped out his nicked knife and started slicing away at Fiddleford’s bound hands as Stanley removed the nooses. Filbrick and Powers were occupied with the gnomes, leaving no resistance in their path.

“Miss us?” Stanley teased, winking at the tousled pair.

“Y-you have no idea, babe.”

“I’m so relived you two are alright—and that you came for us. I will say you cut it a little close, fellas.”

“Well sorry, but we had to break out of jail, start a fire, and get Jeff’s gang to help us out.”

“Always good to keep yourselves busy,” Fiddleford joked, trying to cane his head back far enough to see Stanford’s progress. “Darlin’, not to rush you, but maybe—”

“Hurry up already!” Rick snapped.

“This rope is extremely thick and this knife is rather dull so you’ll just have to be patient.”

“Patient!” Rick and Fiddleford exclaimed in unison.

“Right, of course, no rush. Jut take your time!”

“We really should have thought about getting another knife,” Stanley mused.

“Yes, well, we can keep that in mind for the next rescue attempt.”

“I kinda hope we don’t have ta do this again.”

Stanford snorted. “With the way these two get into trouble—and the way we get into trouble—I don’t think this will be the last time.”

The other three conceded his point.

Suddenly Powers approached them, no longer covered in gnomes. His mouth was a thin, angry line. Thankfully he seemed unarmed.

“Girls, stop what you’re doing. I swear no matter what your father says, if you continue aiding these criminals you will be held accountable. The state will not spare you just because you're women.”

Stanford sliced furiously at the last strands of Fiddleford’s binding.

“You take one more step towards my brother or our partners and you’ll taste my fist, lawman,” Stanley warned, cracking his knuckles.

Powers took another step, reaching out towards Stanford, and Stanley flew at him. Fist collided with jaw and the two went tumbling to the platform ground. Stanley was running on adrenaline and desperation; it was a good thing the sheriff was tired from their trek back to town and his scuffle with the gnomes.

They struggled against each other. Stanley remained on top, straddling the sheriff but barely keeping hold of his arms.

Stanford quickly scanned the crowd as he moved onto Rick’s binding. He spotted Shmebulock and called out for the gnome who quickly scurried over.

“Help Stanley!”

“Shmebulock!”

The gnome latched onto Powers’ face, giving Stanley the opportunity he needed. He let off of the sheriff who was trying to pry Shmebulock away. Stanley brought his leg back far then kicked him as hard as he could in the gut, causing Powers to double over with a deep grunt of pain.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you, Powers.”

Stanley pushed him off the side of the platform. For good measure he even spit on the groaning man, then gave Shmebulock a thumbs up.

“You useless little bitch,” a voice snarled behind Stanley.

Before he could react there was a hand gruffly grabbing him and throwing him to the floor. Filbrick glared down at him with a rage heavier than he had ever seen before. Blood trickled down Filbrick’s face from a scratch under his right eye, his hair and clothes were all akimbo, and he was littered with dirt and wounds.

And for the second time in Stanley’s life his father was pointing a gun at his head.

Stanford acted on instinct. He lunged at Filbrick with a wild howl and sliced at his hand holding the gun. It left a shallow scratch. Filbrick recoiled, clutching his hand to his chest. Stanford didn’t give him time to recover. He tried to stab Filbrick’s hand but the other man twisted and the blade went into his shoulder instead.

“You will never touch my brother again, you bastard!”

He tried to wrest the gun from Filbrick’s grasp but he stubbornly held on.

Stanley glanced from his brother to their partners. Fiddleford, tearing at Rick’s half sliced binds, motioned towards Stanford. Stanley nodded gratefully. He grabbed the knife sticking out of Filbrick and twisted, eliciting a holler full of pain and fury. He jerked away from Stanley, nearly tearing the blade out.

Stanford didn’t let go, still pulling at the gun. Filbrick refused to give up easily. He flailed about in an attempt to shake Stanford off, but when that didn’t work he let out a sound like an agitated, half rabid wolf.

“You two have caused me nothing but trouble since the day Martha became with child!”

He smashed his fist agains the side of Stanford’s face, stunning him long enough for Filbrick to shove him to the ground.

“You’re no prize of a pa yourself!” Stanley returned, hurtling at him. Their hands locked and they began to grapple. “You’ve done nothing but hate and torment us since we were born! That’s not gonna happen anymore.”

“For once in your miserable life you’re right.”

Then Stanley’s legs were kicked out from under him and his back slammed against the platform floor. Filbrick cocked his gun, pointing it at the twins.

“This ends now.”

A shot range out.

The bullet pierced Filbrick’s hand before any of them had time to react. There was the briefest of confused pauses, then Filbrick fell to his knees screaming and clutching the bleeding limb, gun clattering uselessly to the floor. Stanley scrambled to his feet and kicked it as far as he could off the platform, towards the gnomes who were already hurrying back to their forest.

The quartet looked out in the distance to see ma standing there with her shotgun, barrels smoking. She flashed them a grin and called out, “Time ta git, boys.”

The four returned her grin before jumping down from the platform. Susan stood just off to the side with Chestnut and Astra. They ran straight to her, barely slowing as they hopped up on the horses. They were hardly settled into the saddles before the horses started galloping out of town, and they waved quick goodbyes to the girl.

One of them started laughing loud and free, and the others joined in.

Rick wrapped his arms tight around Stanley’s midsection and Stanley turned around, pressing their lips together.

“Not two minutes free and already—” Stanford began. Then Fiddleford’s own mouth was on his, and the words were forgotten in the wind.

As they crossed out of town two horses raced towards them. The men could hardly believe their eyes.

“Katrina! Told you she always comes back to me.”

“And my Honeysuckle! What’re the odds?”

“Hey, didn’t we prove yet that Stanford an’ me are pretty lucky?”

“You fellas kidding? We’re the lucky ones,” Fiddleford said, kissing Stanford again like he needed it to live.

“For having us?” Stanley guessed with a snicker.

“Yup,” Rick agreed. Just like Fiddleford, Rick kissed Stanley as though being apart was death.

The twins focused on their respective partner, trusting their horses to ride just fine without their full attention. They had time to make up for, and they weren’t in any sort of hurry anymore.

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A/N: That's it, folks, that's the end of this story. I can hardly believe I made it so far, and I'm amazed I even had an audience for a western involving two characters from different franchises, neither of which are westerns. This is quite possibly the most niche fanfic I've ever written. And it was supposed to be just a few chapters long. XD Thank you all for reading! 

And incase anyone's worried about Filbrick trying for revenge or some such nonsense, a shotgun to the hand isn't healthy. So the boys are fine on that front. :)

#stanchez #fiddauthor #Fox made this #fanfiction #Rick and Morty #Gravity Falls #trans bandito quartet au #trans