#mage!ford

[sakua312]

...Witcher AU again.🤪

Rick is about 36-37 years old.

The Pines twins are 36 years old. Because the witchers and mages age very slowly, they'll look much younger (maybe less than 30).

#stanley pines #stanford pines #rick sanchez #the witcher au #gravity falls #rick and morty #witcher!stan #mage!ford #bard!rick

[billford-dump]

Mage Ford AU, where due to a combination of Ma's Gift, being a member of the Zodiac, and long-term exposure to Bill, he ends up being an incredibly powerful magic user. Stan opens the portal to get his brother back and his brother is a wizard now.

#gravity falls #ford pines #mage ford au #ma pines was a real psychic pretending to be a fake psychic and you can pry that from my cold dead hands #anyways ford inherited a little bit of her psychic-ness

[torpublishinggroup]

hey look it’s a picture of some rlly good fantasy books lol

Daughter of Redwinter by Ed McDonald

Rise of the Mages by Scott Drakeford

In the Shadow of Lightning by Brian McClellan

The Starless Crown by James Rollins

Aspects by John M. Ford

Destiny of the Dead by Kel Kade

The Memory in the Blood by Ryan Van Loan

#daughter of redwinter #ed mcdonald #rise of the mages #scott drakeford #in the shadow of lightning #brian mcclellan #the starless crown #james rollins #aspect #john m. ford #destiny of the dead #kel kade #the memory in the blood #ryan van loan #fantasy #books #epic fantasy #redemption

[cbmagus49]

Sunday Sketch!! ...Sort of. It was Sunday when I drew it at least, and as far as I'm concerned it's not Monday until the sun's up so it still counts :P

Man I've been meaning to get this crossover going for ages; figuring out what each of the kids' classpects should be was a bit trickier than I initially anticipated ^^' I'm super stoked with how it turned out :D

#sketchbook sunday #gravity falls #homestuck #crossover #mabel pines #ford pines #dipper pines #stan pines #witch of heart #mage of light #heir of mind #thief of void #gravitystuck #stuff from the sketchbook

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Henry Justice Ford 

#Henry Justice Ford #sketch art #sketch #art #fairy tales #fantasy #artwork #Illustration #vintage illustration #20s #20's #rpg #R.P.G. #Beauty and the Beast #wizard #mage #hermit

[necrobarbie]

tentative gf classpects that i will maybe draw later

dipper = rogue of mind

mabel = witch of heart

stan = bard of blood

ford = mage of space

bill = lord of mind

pacifica = maid of life

fiddleford = seer of time

soos = page of blood

wendy = knight of rage

gideon = heir of light

#the fords. would b the cutest in the mage + seer fits

[ozu-teapot]

Dementia 13 | Francis Ford Coppola | 1963

Patrick Magee

#Patrick Magee #Francis Ford Coppola #Dementia 13 #1963 #The Haunted and the Hunted

[milliondollarbaby87]

The School for Good and Evil (2022) Review

The School for Good and Evil (2022) Review

When best friends Sophie and Agatha find themselves on opposite sides of an epic battle after they were swept away to a different world with an enchanted school of aspiring heroes and villains being trained! Especially when they both feel they should be on the opposite sides. ⭐️⭐️⭐️ (more…)

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#2022 #Abigail Stones #Action #Adam Ray #Based on a Book #Cate Blanchett #Comedy #David Magee #Denis Coleman #Drama #Ella Hehir #Kit Young #Liam Woon #Mahli Perry #Malik Ibheis #Mark Charles #Netflix UK #Olivia Booth-Ford #Patti LuPone #Paul Feig #Rachel Bloom #Review #Rob Delaney #Sandra Cole #Sofia Wylie #Soman Chainani #Sophia Anne Caruso #Stephanie Siadatan #The School for Good and Evil

[irfrenchfries]

Can I show you one of the most adorable things I’ve ever drawn

What if Fantasy Setting and Stan was a squire and Ford was an apprentice mage/wizard/magic boy?

For @forduary Week 1- Childhood and school years.

[Image description: digital art of Stan and Ford from Gravity Falls as kids in a fantasy setting.

One colored drawing shows Stan in a tunic, offering someone a pair of gauntlets and a big sword with a grin. The other colored drawing shows Ford in a vest, reading from a big spellbook and channeling a spark of blue magic as he sticks out his tongue in concentration.

Below are two rougher sketches. Stan's sewing something, while Ford is carrying around a cauldron with books and quills resting in it. End description.]

#I have oodles more ideas only centering around Ford but this idea would no let me rest so expect more but here’s this one first #forduary 2024 #ford pines #stan pines #fantasy

[silentmagi]

Rising Star

Sorry for the double posting, had to correct the poll and a few errors. Where are they going to find next?

4. River

Main Page

They heard and smelt it long before the trees parted enough for them to be able to see it, but there it was: a river swollen with the recent rains. While it was wide and looked lazy, neither of them wanted to risk fording it. Letting the horse, Edmund, drink from the river the pair looked back and forth along its length and decided that they’d go with the flow. While there was quite a bit of beach surrounding the flooded river, they chose to stay closer to the woods because the cart would likely bog down in the sandy beach.

Being able to see more of the sky above them, and the light that it brought certainly made it easier to see the near endless gray above them.

Well it couldn’t all be sunshine and roses could it? Star would not be here if it was able to be that lucky. No, she’d be in her room studying for the next exam.

Looking at the fallen logs that edges the forest, she pondered the possibility that they could craft a raft, however that idea was dashed as she realized that she didn’t have any idea what she would be doing for that, and likely they would all end up at the bottom of the river.

Driving forward, they would hopefully find a village, city, settlement, heck right now she’d settle for a watermill. Just some sort of sign of civilization that they could use to gain their bearings and figure out where they were.

“The babbling of the river is soothing, isn’t it?” Luna asked, breaking Star’s bitter thoughts, drawing her attention back to the world they were in, and not the one she dreamed of.

Her first thought was worrying about something up river bursting and sending them a new round of doom, however, she hoped that keeping that thought to herself would prevent tempting fate that seemed to be having fun toying with her. Instead, she listened to the river’s sound and smiled as she felt there was a beat and rhythm to it. “Yeah, I’ve never thought of it like that before.”

She supposed she hadn’t thought of it like that before, since she’d never taken the time to do so. All her life she was rushing to study, buried in a book, or just locked in her own world that she shut out the natural one.

She could hear the soft murmuring of the water bubbling past, the occasional splashing of a fish coming after a bug on the surface, and a humming bard composing a song from what would normally be listed as simple noises.

“Windsong’s favor finds you rather strongly, doesn’t it Luna?” Star couldn’t help but tease, knowing the common faith that bards followed.

If Luna was impressed by that bit of trivia, she didn’t show it, beyond a little smile on her lips. “She grants inspiration in all things, but in this I truly believe, there is a song that she sings beyond us. We are but her notes.”

“Well, if she doesn’t mind me being a silent rest for a bit, I’ll give a coin to her next shrine,” the mage offered with a laugh. “Does she sing a song of our future?”

Luna paused and studied her for a moment at that, before looking back towards the path ahead of them. “You know Darling, she just might… she just might. But look, civilization!”

#Story #My Writing #Rising Star #My Polls #Star #World Building #Please Participate #Star Main

[jamesdavisnicoll]

The Warden  (The Warden, volume 1) by Daniel M. Ford A newly-graduated mage is disgruntled at her posting to a small community in the middle of nowhere. Surely, no thrilling adventures could possibly await.

[sakua312]

獵魔士AU

AO3 | Next →

#stanley pines #stanford pines #rick sanchez #gravity falls #rick and morty #the witcher au #witcher!stan #mage!ford #bard!rick #or he is not #it's a long story

[frenchcurious]

Danny Sullivan (Tyrrell-Ford) Grand Prix de Monaco 1983 - Photo: Maureen Mage. - source Sports Car Digest.

#danny sullivan #tyrrell-ford #grand prix de monaco

[weirdmageddon]

yesssss, stanford as mage of light 🤝🤝🤝

i love the idea of the stan twins sharing aspects w their respective pines twin (ford and dipper, mabel and stan). i always picture mabel and stan as heart players (not so sure on class, maybe thief for stan since he literally stole his brother's identity lol), but i was wondering what you thought 👀

mmm stan seems void bound

yes thief stan definitely. thief of void. “steals void and steals through void” that also explains why he was able to beat bill at his own game. bill brings destruction of light through misleading light, therefore shadows void and stan steals meaningless for himself (in this case it was his family but he doesnt spread himself thin like a rogue and fits the thief title way better)

mabel is totally a maid of hope. remember when she chose to trust grunkle stan? her thing isnt identity vs choices, it’s her optimism and hope for good

#stoner posting #gf #classpect

[blackrosesmatron]

Prologue

Disclaimer: This is not my text. This is the prologue of the book Sabriel, by Garth Nix. I'm sharing it in the hope it can pick the interest of some people around here (this series deserve more love). All rights reserved to Garth Nix!

It was little more than three miles from the Wall into the Old Kingdom, but that was enough. Noonday sunshine could be seen on the other side of the Wall in Ancelstierre, and not a cloud in sight. Here, there was a clouded sunset, and a steady rain had just begun to fall, coming faster than the tents could be raised.

The midwife shrugged her cloak higher up against her neck and bent over the woman again, raindrops spilling from her nose onto the upturned face below. The midwife’s breath blew out in a cloud of white, but there was no answering billow of air from her patient.

The midwife sighed and slowly straightened up, that single movement telling the watchers everything they needed to know. The woman who had staggered into their forest camp was dead, only holding on to life long enough to pass it on to the baby at her side. But even as the midwife picked up the pathetically small form beside the dead woman, it shuddered within its wrappings, and was still.

“The child, too?” asked one of the watchers, a man who wore the mark of the Charter freshdrawn in wood ash upon his brow. “Then there shall be no need for baptism.”

His hand went up to brush the mark from his forehead, then suddenly stopped, as a pale white hand gripped his and forced it down in a single, swift motion.

“Peace!” said a calm voice. “I wish you no harm.”

The white hand released its grip and the speaker stepped into the ring of firelight.

The others watched him without welcome, and the hands that had half sketched Charter marks, or gone to bowstrings and hilts, did not relax.

The man strode towards the bodies and looked upon them. Then he turned to face the watchers, pushing his hood back to reveal the face of someone who had taken paths far from sunlight, for his skin was a deathly white.

“I am called Abhorsen,” he said, and his words sent ripples through the people about him, as if he had cast a large and weighty stone into a pool of stagnant water. “And there will be a baptism tonight.”

The Charter Mage looked down on the bundle in the midwife’s hands, and said: “The child is dead, Abhorsen. We are travelers, our life lived under the sky, and it is often harsh. We know death, lord.”

“Not as I do,” replied Abhorsen, smiling so his paper-white face crinkled at the corners and drew back from his equally white teeth. “And I say the child is not yet dead.”

The man tried to meet Abhorsen’s gaze, but faltered and looked away at his fellows. None moved, or made any sign, till a woman said, “So. It is easily done. Sign the child, Arrenil. We will make a new camp at Leovi’s Ford. Join us when you are finished here.”

The Charter Mage inclined his head in assent, and the others drifted away to pack up their halfmade camp, slow with the reluctance of having to move, but filled with a greater reluctance to remain near Abhorsen, for his name was one of secrets, and unspoken fears.

When the midwife went to lay the child down and leave, Abhorsen spoke: “Wait. You will be needed.”

The midwife looked down on the baby, and saw that it was a girl child and, save for its stillness, could be merely sleeping. She had heard of Abhorsen, and if the girl could live... warily she picked up the child again and held her out to the Charter Mage.

“If the Charter does not—” began the man, but Abhorsen held up a pallid hand and interrupted.

“Let us see what the Charter wills.”

The man looked at the child again and sighed.

Then he took a small bottle from his pouch and held it aloft, crying out a chant that was the beginning of a Charter; one that listed all things that lived or grew, or once lived, or would live again, and the bonds that held them all together. As he spoke, a light came to the bottle, pulsing with the rhythm of the chant. Then the chanter was silent. He touched the bottle to the earth, then to the sign of wood ash on his forehead, and then upended it over the child. A great flash lit the surrounding woods as the glowing liquid splashed over the child’s head, and the priest cried: “By the Charter that binds all things, we name thee—”

Normally, the parents of the child would then speak the name. Here, only Abhorsen spoke, and he said: “Sabriel.”

As he uttered the word, the wood ash disappeared from the priest’s forehead, and slowly formed on the child’s. The Charter had accepted the baptism.

“But... but she is dead!” exclaimed the Charter Mage, gingerly touching his forehead to make sure the ash was truly gone.

He got no answer, for the midwife was staring across the fire at Abhorsen, and Abhorsen was staring at—nothing. His eyes reflected the dancing flames, but did not see them.

Slowly, a chill mist began to rise from his body, spreading towards the man and midwife, who scuttled to the other side of the fire—wanting to get away, but now too afraid to run.

He could hear the child crying, which was good. If she had gone beyond the first gateway he could not bring her back without more stringent preparations, and a subsequent dilution of her spirit.

The current was strong, but he knew this branch of the river and waded past pools and eddies that hoped to drag him under. Already, he could feel the waters leaching his spirit, but his will was strong, so they took only the color, not the substance.

He paused to listen, and hearing the crying diminish, hastened forward. Perhaps she was already at the gateway, and about to pass.

The First Gate was a veil of mist, with a single dark opening, where the river poured into the silence beyond. Abhorsen hurried towards it, and then stopped. The baby had not yet passed through, but only because something had caught her and picked her up. Standing there, looming up out of the black waters, was a shadow darker than the gate.

It was several feet higher than Abhorsen, and there were pale marsh-lights burning where you would expect to see eyes, and the fetid stench of carrion rolled off it—a warm stench that relieved the chill of the river.

Abhorsen advanced on the thing slowly,watching the child it held loosely in the crook of a shadowed arm. The baby was asleep, but restless, and it squirmed towards the creature, seeking a mother’s breast, but it only held her away from itself, as if the child were hot, or caustic.

Slowly, Abhorsen drew a small, silver handbell from the bandolier of bells across his chest, and cocked his wrist to ring it. But the shadow-thing held the baby up and spoke in a dry, slithery voice, like a snake on gravel.

“Spirit of your spirit, Abhorsen. You can’t spell me while I hold her. And perhaps I shall take her beyond the gate, as her mother has already gone.”

Abhorsen frowned, in recognition, and replaced the bell. “You have a new shape, Kerrigor. And you are now this side of the First Gate. Who was foolish enough to assist you so far?”

Kerrigor smiled widely, and Abhorsen caught a glimpse of fires burning deep inside his mouth.

“One of the usual calling,” he croaked. “But unskilled. He didn’t realize it would be in the nature of an exchange. Alas, his life was not sufficient for me to pass the last portal. But now, you have come to help me.”

“I, who chained you beyond the Seventh Gate?”

“Yes,” whispered Kerrigor. “The irony does not, I think, escape you. But if you want the child...”

He made as if to throw the baby into the stream and, with that jerk, woke her. Immediately, she began to cry and her little fists reached out to gather up the shadow-stuff of Kerrigor like the folds of a robe. He cried out, tried to detach her, but the tiny hands held tightly and he was forced to overuse his strength, and threw her from him. She landed, squalling, and was instantly caught up in the flow of the river, but Abhorsen lunged forward, snatching her from both the river and Kerrigor’s grasping hands.

Stepping back, he drew the silver bell onehanded, and swung it so it sounded twice. The sound was curiously muffled, but true, and the clear chime hung in the air, fresh and cutting, alive. Kerrigor flinched at the sound, and fell backwards to the darkness that was the gate.

“Some fool will soon bring me back, and then...” he cried out, as the river took him under. The waters swirled and gurgled and then resumed their steady flow.

Abhorsen stared at the gate for a time, then sighed and, placing the bell back in his belt, looked at the baby held in his arm. She stared back at him, dark eyes matching his own.

Already, the color had been drained from her skin. Nervously, Abhorsen laid a hand across the brand on her forehead and felt the glow of her spirit within. The Charter mark had kept her life contained when the river should have drained it. It was her life-spirit that had so burned Kerrigor.

She smiled up at him and gurgled a little, and Abhorsen felt a smile tilting the corner of his own mouth. Still smiling, he turned, and began the long wade back up the river, to the gate that would return them both to their living flesh.

The baby wailed a scant second before Abhorsen opened his eyes, so that the midwife was already halfway around the dying fire, ready to pick her up. Frost crackled on the ground and icicles hung from Abhorsen’s nose. He wiped them off with a sleeve and leaned over the child, much as any anxious father does after a birth.

“How is the babe?” he asked, and the midwife stared at him wonderingly, for the dead child was now loudly alive and as deathly white as he.

“As you hear, lord,” she answered. “She is very well. It is perhaps a little cold for her—”

He gestured at the fire and spoke a word, and it roared into life, the frost melting at once, the raindrops sizzling into steam. “That will do till morning,” said Abhorsen.

“Then I shall take her to my house. I shall have need of a nurse.Will you come?” The midwife hesitated, and looked to the Charter Mage, who still lingered on the far side of the fire. He refused to meet her glance and she looked down once more at the little girl bawling in her arms.

“You are... you are...” whispered the midwife.

“A necromancer?” said Abhorsen. “Only of a sort. I loved the woman who lies here. She would have lived if she had loved another, but she did not. Sabriel is our child. Can you not see the kinship?”

The midwife looked at him as he leant forward and took Sabriel from her, rocking her on his chest. The baby quietened and, in a few seconds, was asleep.

“Yes,” said the midwife. “I shall come with you, and look after Sabriel. But you must find a wet-nurse...”

“And I daresay much else besides,” mused Abhorsen. “But my house is not a place for—” The Charter Mage cleared his throat, and moved around the fire.

“If you seek a man who knows a little of the Charter,” he said hesitantly, “I should wish to serve, for I have seen its work in you, lord, though I am loath to leave my fellow wanderers.”

“Perhaps you will not have to,” replied Abhorsen, smiling at a sudden thought. “I wonder if your leader will object to two new members joining her band. For my work means I must travel, and there is no part of the Kingdom that has not felt the imprint of my feet.”

“Your work?” asked the man, shivering a little, though it was no longer cold.

“Yes,” said Abhorsen. “I am a necromancer, but not of the common kind. Where others of the art raise the dead, I lay them back to rest. And those that will not rest, I bind—or try to. I am Abhorsen...”

He looked at the baby again, and added, almost with a note of surprise, “Father of Sabriel.”

#others #you can tell I take inspiration for my HCs from this series...

[mirrorvi]

A custom-ordered WNPS for noted pal @21BumpB1 (on Twitter), featuring a lot of Mage and a lot of Fords ladies!

(And a lot of round)

#mirror's art #fords' fantastic fooderies