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hauntingsofhouses · 9 months

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We all already know Mizu and Akemi are narrative foils. But you know what? Lemme just say it, here's what I think:

Taigen and Mikio are foils.

Not necessarily to each other as individuals in the way that Mizu and Akemi juxtapose each other, but mostly in the contrast between their relationships with Mizu.

I've covered specific parallels between Taigen and Mikio in other posts I wrote; but as the number of parallels I'm noticing between them keeps piling up, I'm compelled to just compile them all in one post. So! This is, thus, the post in question.

First of all, let's look at their similarities.

1. Their status in society is the same. They are both samurai who lost their honour and have dreams of reclaiming it.

2. They are also both diligent as they strive to achieve this goal, they both care deeply about their work, but here as they begin to contrast, as the work in question and way they go about their goals is different:

For Mikio, his work is in taming and rearing horses; in order to prove himself, he must tame Kai—a willful and strong horse—and present it to his lord. For Taigen, his work is in sword fighting and martial arts; in order to prove himself, he must kill Mizu—a willful and strong swordsman—and present her dead body to his lord.

In the parallel above, not only are Taigen and Mikio contrasting each other, but Mizu and Kai are placed in comparison as well. And of course, Kai is Mizu's horse, and represents her. Which is why, when later, Mikio sells Kai off, it represents the way he is tossing Mizu (and their relationship) aside.

From there, the rest of the details of their character begin to contrast and juxtapose each other more clearly. So let's look at those differences, shall we?

Their backstory:

Mikio was a great samurai who was banished. A somebody to a nobody. Taigen was a fisherman’s son who rose to the top. A nobody to a somebody.

2. The first time we meet them on-screen:

Mikio is an adult. An older man. Mizu's superior in age. He is Mizu's to-be husband. A love interest. Taigen is a child. A young boy. Mizu's peer in age. He is Mizu's bully. An antagonist.

3. Their maturity and growth:

Mikio is mature, but stuck in his ways. Taigen is immature, but capable of changing and learning.

4. Their overall attitude:

Mikio is generally relaxed, easy-going and unfussy. Taigen is uptight, irritable and severe.

5. How they talk to and conduct themselves around Mizu:

Mikio is aloof, soft-spoken, and serious. Taigen is obnoxious, brash, and sarcastic. Mikio is quiet, speaking only when spoken to, even when Mizu turns to smile at him and shows openness to be near him. Taigen is loud, talking while others are silent, even when Mizu turns from him and shows no interest in conversing with him.

Mikio doesn't show much of who he is to Mizu throughout their marriage, despite their growing affection. Taigen openly shares his traumas and life story to Mizu during their brief alliance, despite their mutual antagonism.

6. Their external vs internal selves:

Mikio is calm, gentle, and considerate on the outside. Taigen is hot-headed, rude, and selfish on the outside. Mikio is cowardly and deceitful on the inside. Taigen is brave and loyal to a fault on the inside. Mikio tells Mizu that he wants to know and see all of her. But he scorns and betrays her, the woman he loves. Taigen tells Mizu that he wants to duel and kill him. But he endures torture to not betray him, the man he hates.

9. Their hair, a symbol of their honour:

Mikio's topknot is untied by Mizu during their spar. This humiliation occurs in private, the two of them alone in a rural location where no one can see them. Taigen's topknot is cut off by Mizu during their duel. This humiliation occurs in public, the two of them being watched by many others in the Shindo Dojo.

10. Their power dynamic with Mizu:

Mikio believes he is Mizu's mentor. He teaches her to throw knives, how to ride and care for horses, and about the tactical benefits of using a naginata. Taigen believes he is Mizu's equal. He views Mizu as a samurai like himself who received all the same teachings he did, and who possesses the same values.

11. Their perceptions of Mizu:

Mikio sees Mizu's feminine side first. He sees her as sweet and gentle, but also clumsy and incompetent. Taigen sees Mizu's masculine side first. He sees her as terrifying and deadly, but also strong and skilled.

12. The way they approach sparring with Mizu:

Mikio only spars with Mizu once. As the fight progresses and she is beating him, he tries to put a stop to it. When she teases/provokes him, he starts taking the fight personally and seriously, finding no enjoyment in it. Taigen spars and brawls with Mizu all the time. No matter how many times Mizu beats him, he doesn't back down. When Mizu challenges him with a chopstick, he is eager to compete with her and gladly rises up to the challenge.

Mikio and Mizu's one and only spar is a friendly match; Mizu is smiling and having fun while he grows increasingly frustrated. Taigen and Mizu's last-seen spar is a playful wrestling match; both him and Mizu are having fun and laughing.

Mikio cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, so he scorns her and walks off, avoiding her thereafter. When Taigen cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, he follows her to observe her moves and continues training in hopes to eventually beat her. After being bested by Mizu once, Mikio leaves her and sells the horse he'd previously gifted to her. After many times losing to Mizu and fighting alongside her, Taigen commends her and admits she is better than him.

13. When Mizu pins them down in a friendly spar:

Mikio sees Mizu's whole face objectively. Taigen stares at Mizu's mouth and eyes.

Mikio gets angry when she kisses him, throwing her off of him and snapping at her, calling her a monster. Taigen gets aroused, apologising, so she pulls herself off of him.

14. Mizu's blue meteorite sword is a reflection of her soul. She believes most are undeserving to face it, let alone hold it. And on that note:

Mikio is the first person (chronologically) that Mizu fights against using her sword. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) that Mizu fights against with her sword. Mikio is the first person (chronologically) to ever hold her sword, as she passes it to him, letting him wield it. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) to ever hold her sword, as she passes out, and he picks it up and carries it for her.

15. Then, last but not least, in Fowler's fortress, when she is drugged and in pain, she hears Ringo's voice in the dungeon. She then follows it to an open cell:

Mizu first sees Mikio as a hallucination, the sight of him haunting her and causing her to lose her grip on reality. Her eyes glow a surreal blue to represent this. Her Mama appears then and says Mizu's name accusingly.

Mizu then sees Taigen, but he is real, the sight of him a relief and grounding her back to reality. Her eyes return to their normal blue colour to represent this. Taigen looks at Mizu weakly and says her name softly.

Then, later, when facing Fowler, her revenge awaiting her, she instead chooses to follow her conscience (represented by Ringo's voice in her mind), putting aside her vengeance for a time, in order to save Taigen.

So that's basically all the ones I've noticed so far, but even then, I feel there's already so much that forms a contrast between these two.

What makes it especially incredible about these juxtapositions is that Mikio was Mizu's husband, the man she had fallen in love with, the one person she had ever been intimate with, the man who made her begin to accept herself, to put down her desire for vengeance and instead live a life of peace and happiness.

So for Taigen to have so many parallels with him... Do you see what I'm saying here!

Not to mention that Mizu clearly already has some burgeoning attraction to him, as indicated by how she thinks of him when asked about her desires. And Taigen clearly has shown interest as well (see: him getting a boner after their spar, him holding her hand and telling her, "We're not done yet.").

And on the topic of speculating future possibilities of this relationship, this post by @stromblessed has pointed out yet another parallel between Taigen and Mikio:

Mizu promises Taigen to meet him for their duel in autumn. Mizu fell in love with Mikio and duelled him during autumn.

With all that said, I do believe Mizu and Taigen's relationship is definitely hurtling towards something. But whether they will actually end up together in a sustainable relationship and have a happily ever after? Well, that is a whole other story; we'll just have to wait and see.

#blue eye samurai #mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #taimizu #taigen blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #hope yall enjoy my thesis on virgin mikio vs chad taigen #this was written last night when i shouldve been writing the new chapter for my taimizu fic that i promised i would work on....whoopsies...#i will get to it eventually but i just have to get a firmer grip on characterisation before i can delve further into it yk #on that note. i kiiinda regret posting the fic on a whim!#my last longfic was written better because i had the whole thing complete and could go back and edit/polish/revise before posting #so it came out much more coherent and consistent ykwim?#this fic might suffer a bit for this reason 🤒#but its fine i have to remind myself im just doing it for funsies #anyway here have another long ass meta post from yours truly #meta dissertations.pdf #shut up haydar #fandom.rtf

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kandlewick · 3 months

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i'll dry the villain's tears

t h e r o s e r e d t y r a n t ' s m o t h e r pt.2

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

You felt entirely too overdressed sitting here at the park. Your former body's wardrobe was obviously not meant for anything too strenuous and that apparently included just enjoying your time outside in the sun. You could feel the sweat gather in uncomfortable places... but your nerves weren't just because of the warm weather.

Trey's mother sat beside you, much more dressed for the occasion, and watched as Trey and Riddle reconnected. You could hear the two of them laugh and giggle as they began playing as if nothing had ever happened and the two were quick to run up the steps leading to the slide, followed by a whole gaggle of other children. You let out a soft sigh of relief at the sight.

Not just the clothes, but your body was so stiff and rigid it was hard to even relax as you tried to breath. Your back was straight as a rod while you sat on the uncomfortable park bench, your well manicured hands firm on your lap and you shuffled uncomfortably in place. Trey's mother eyed you from her spot on the bench and offered a small smile, like she was acknowledging how strenuous this whole situation was for you.

"I'm guessing you've never brought Riddle to a public park before, huh?" She crossed her arms and leaned on them over the table, linking her fingers together, "You look like you're about to faint."

You forced out a laugh, too embarrassed to meet her gaze and pulled at the high collar of your buttoned top. You could practically feel heat waves steaming off of you. "Something like that," you admitted, "I wasn't exactly a good mother when it came to recreational activities."

You inwardly cringed at your wording — what, is Miss Rosehearts vocabulary infecting you too?

Trey's mother hummed as she continued to look at you. You could feel her bright hazel eyes staring at you. You could feel a cold sweat drip down your neck.

"Please stop me if this sounds too forward," Trey's mother leaned back but quickly offered her hand to you, "but my name is Dinah."

You blinked up at her, startled. She... wanted you to shake her hand?

She offered up her hand again and made a motion for you to follow. Almost hesitantly, you reached out and clasped her hand in your own, shaking it. Her palms were so warm, comforting, almost the exact opposite of your body's cold touch. She smiled at you, the dimple on your cheek crinkling with delight.

"I figured since our children are such good friends, we could at least try and act cordial." She glanced over as your two children sat next to each other on the swing set, the elder Trey guiding Riddle on how to kick back his feet. Riddle was hesitant and stumbled a few times, but kept giggling all the same, obviously entranced.

"Trey likes to baby younger kids," Dinah smiled, "I wonder how he'd do with younger siblings..."

You noticed that too as Riddle followed him around like a little duckling chasing after its mama. Whatever Trey did, Riddle would follow even if it meant pushing his limits. Trey watched carefully from the other end of the playground as Riddle jumped from one platform to the next, his arms out and knees shaking as he tried to keep himself balanced. Whenever he would stumble and topple over the edge nearly sending him into a fit of tears, Trey was quick to act and followed him back to the beginning.

"He's a sweet kid." You mumbled, "You're a great mother."

She gave you an almost sympathetic look, noticing your tone before reaching out and grabbing your hand, "Hey, you're not doing so bad now either." She squeezed your hand in her own and offered you an encouraging smile, "Parenting isn't easy and sometimes you don't notice the damage until it's too late but look at you," She gestured to your whole self, "Better late then never, right?"

You both sat there idly chatting until much later then you had figured you would and before long, the sun had began to set, casting the park in a orange hue. You were caked in sweat but Riddle wasn't doing much better. The two children came back huffing and puffing from exhaustion, sweat dripping off their foreheads like rivers. Riddle looked especially tired, his cheeks a bright red.

"I think I'm ready to go now," Riddle sighed.

You gave him a small smile and pulled him close, rubbing your pristine sleeve against his cheeks and wiped away any of the dirt that stained his skin, laughing as he let out a soft whine. Trey wasn't faring any better and was quick to lean against his mother's lap. Dinah ruffled his hair but her face quickly grimaced at the sweat in his hair. The kids obviously were going to need a bath after this.

You pulled Riddle in to your arms and tucked him under your chin. His bright red hair tickled your face but you held him even closer as his arms wrapped around your neck. He let out a soft sigh against your shoulder. Trey, being much taller then Riddle, simply grabbed Dinah's hand. He tiredly looked up at the young boy in your arms and smiled, his hands raising to offer Riddle a small wave.

"Bye, Riddle. We'll play again sometime, ok?"

Riddle turned his head and nodded, a sleepy smile on his face, "Mmmhm..."

"We will do this again sometime, right?" Dinah lowered her voice and leaned over so that Trey wouldn't be in ear shot, "This isn't a one time thing?"

"Oh?" You blinked over at her. Oh! "Yes!" You reassured her, your voice a little too loud, "Yes, we would love that. Riddle would love to." I would love to!! You screamed in your head, eager to befriend her. You wanted friends too!!!

Dinah gave you a dazzlingly bright smile, "Then I think we should invite Chen'ya and his uncle next time too!" Riddle and Trey straightened up at this and you could tell the two of them were excited about the thought.

"His uncle?" You questioned. That doesn't sound very familiar.

"Oh yeah," Dinah laughed behind her hand, "Chen'ya's parents are always out of the country on business so he lives with his uncle and his grandfather. My husband and I are good friends with them both and his uncle is a really fun guy, I'm sure you'd find him... interesting!"

It would certainly be interesting meeting someone new that you had no idea about... plus you'd be able to apologize properly to Chen'ya and whoever his guardian was. It could possibly be very... fun. You could feel your body hum in excitement as you found yourself nodding eagerly, nearly bouncing Riddle in your arms, "I would like that very much."

And then after exchanging phone numbers, you and Dinah parted ways, the two children eager to return home and rest.

"Mmmm," Riddle hummed in your arms, his hold on you loosening as he began drifting off, "I had a lot of fun today —" He yawned loudly, his head burrowing itself further into your neck, a content smile on his face, "Thank you."

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland oc #isekai #riddle rosehearts #congrats your riddles mama #platonic reader #i apologize for the length i just wanted to get out another chapter to i can release #NEW OCS #chenyas uncle... wonder who it could be hum hum hum #dinah is gonna be your bff #yes she is alice's cat but wouldnt that technically make you #alice???????????????????????????????????????#food for THOUGHTS

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ckret2 · 6 months

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Chapter 44 of human Bill Cipher wishing he was trapped in the Mystery Shack again:

The Eclipse: Part 2

Gravity is disappearing, and to find out why, Ford's inspecting the sites where the fabric of spacetime might have been damaged by Weirdmageddon. Dipper's glad to come along.

Bill really, really, really isn't.

"I am genuinely offering you helpful advice, that also happens to be self-serving because you idiots wouldn't trust me if I claimed I was being charitable anyway," Bill went on, as he'd been going on for the past five minutes. "This isn't a trick! I'm not running a con! I'm completely serious: being outside during an eclipse is the stupidest thing you could do. You don't want to watch it, I want to watch it even less, staying inside is mutually beneficial!"

"Do you think I should have brought my camera?" Dipper asked, determinedly ignoring Bill as he trailed behind them.

"What for?" Ford asked, also ignoring Bill.

"I've been trying to expand my Guide to the Unexplained series this summer—I've been doing longer episodes, a couple of them are ten minutes—but I wasn't sure if we'd see anything cool and my backpack was already heavy..."

"Hmm. I suspect either there won't be anything worth seeing—or, if there is, we'll be far too busy dealing with it to record footage."

"Yeah," Dipper sighed, "I guess you're right."

"This is why my journals have more illustrations than photographs."

Bill let out a loud groan of frustration before jogging to catch up with the humans. He checked the trail ahead to make sure he wasn't about to trip, then turned to walk sideways, facing Dipper and Ford as they walked. "Okay, fine, you win. So, just to be clear—the only reason you two are dragging me out here is to check a few locations for these imaginary 'micro-rips' you think are shredding the fabric of reality apart. Right? As soon as we've checked the three places you want, it's over, you admit you were wrong, and we go back to the shack?"

"Yes, Cipher," Ford sighed. "Once we've checked those locations, if we can't find evidence that any of the areas of most concern are near the one hundred thousand micro-rip danger threshold, we'll go home. Since dimensional rips could pop up anywhere around Gravity Falls, there's a possibility there could be clusters over the danger threshold away from the three areas of concern, but with no way to guess where they might be—"

"Fine. Then let's get this over with," Bill said. "Totality is in two days, if we're back home by tomorrow night we'll still avoid it. But if you try to drag me outside again after we get back, I'm hitting everyone with the Amnesia Limina curse and nobody's going outside."

With that threat delivered, Bill cartwheeled ahead of the humans, landed on his feet, and bounded ahead in long moonwalking lopes.

"Any idea why gravity's going down faster for him than the rest of town?" Dipper asked.

"Only that, if there are rips opening between us and the Nightmare Realm, perhaps they're giving Bill back some of his powers," Ford said. "Perhaps his powers are stored in the Nightmare Realm. Although I don't know how that would work." It was a better explanation than Bill's claim that he could just float better than humans, anyway.

The bracelet around Dipper's wrist momentarily tightened as Bill reached the far end of his invisible tether, then loosened as Dipper continue forward; and then tightened a second time, and a third time. From up the trail, Bill shouted, "Would you hurry up!"

"You slow down! Some of us still have to walk!"

But even so, the slowly decreasing gravity was making the hike noticeably easier. Their backpacks sat lighter on their shoulders, and each stride seemed to carry them a little higher and farther than they expected. They startled a deer, and then the deer startled itself with how high it jumped.

"On second thought, it might not be a good idea to take him back to the shack while this is going on," Ford said. "Even if there aren't enough micro-rips in the basement, I'm not wholly convinced it won't end up the epicenter of whatever's about to happen. And if Bill wants so badly to be so close to it..."

From further up the trail, Bill shouted, "If you were any more paranoid, you'd be asking your own shadow why it's following you!"

"If you had access to any more of your powers, you'd be possessing my shadow!"

"Ha!" Bill had stopped to perch on a fallen tree that on any other day would have been far too slender to hold an adult's weight, balanced on it like a tightrope, and waited there for the others to catch up. "Fine, we don't need to go back to the shack, whatever makes you happy! As long as we get inside. Stanley's camper, a motel room, the old Corduroy cabin—hey, the Northwest place is pretty empty these days, isn't it? Is Specs renting out rooms, or...?"

"I am not taking you to Northwest Manor," Ford said. "Fiddleford's had enough trouble without letting you into his life again." Although that was only one of several reasons Ford wanted to keep them apart. For Fiddleford's safety, they couldn't risk Bill finding out that Fiddleford had been told his identity; and, now that Bill had confessed he could see through walls, they couldn't give him a chance to peer through the manor's walls and discover the ongoing paradox fuel synthesis project.

Bill laughed in disbelief. "Oh now you're concerned about somebody else's wellbeing, when it's his—fine! Fine, fine, fine! That's just fine! That's great! Terrific!" He hopped off his perch. "No evidence of self-preservation and let's not even think about respecting the triangle's wishes, but when the hillbilly might be in imaginary danger—!"

"That 'hillbilly' is one of the most brilliant men alive and the best friend I've ever known—"

"Ha!" Angrily, Bill yelled, "Some best friend, he erased you straight out of his head! You don't even know what a best friend is!"

Ford winced—he knew he'd never been much of a friend back to Fiddleford—but while he was gearing himself up to defend himself against whatever accusation Bill lobbed next, Bill turned away from the humans and stormed up the trail, leaving them behind as the weaving path took him behind several trees.

Every couple of steps, Dipper's bracelet twitched against his wrist as Bill tried to get even further ahead and was thwarted. He chuckled. "Do you think you touched a nerve?"

The corner of Ford's mouth quirked up; but he shook his head. "He's just mad he's not getting his way. As usual."

####

"I take it this is our first destination," Bill said, hands planted on his hips, looking around the forest. "This looks like the area where Shooting Star gave me the rift."

Dipper said, "You mean the place where you tricked—"

Bill shoved Dipper's hat down over his eyes. "Anyway, that aside, all the glued-shut wormholes and this are a bigger hint." He tapped the tip of one dress shoe—dusty after a walk in the woods—at the start of a long crevasse in the ground weaving through the trees.

"Yes," Ford said distractedly, taking his micro-rip scanner out of his backpack and turning it on. "This is the place." He took an initial reading, frowned, and followed the crevasse deeper into the woods.

Bill trailed along after him, gesturing at the jagged lines of bending light hanging in the air. "You did a terrible repair job, by the way. Stretching the edges of the rips to meet like that puts more stress on the reality in between the rips. You should have sutured them and let them heal naturally," Bill said. "If there are a bunch of tiny rips in the area, your own shoddy work probably caused them."

"Mm-hm," Ford said, fully focused on the scanner.

Bill's shoulders slumped. He hopped to the other side of the crack in the earth from Ford and strode ahead purposefully, ignoring him.

He glanced at a wooden sign staked next to the crack, nearly passed it, and did a double take. The sign read "MABEL'S FAULT". Bill laughed in surprise. "Who did this?"

"What—?" Dipper caught up and saw the sign. "Oh."

####

2012

Mabel's smile faded as she entered the clearing. "Oh. I... think this is the place where—Bill tricked me in Blarblar's body."

"Guess that explains all the rips in this area," Dipper said. He patted Mabel's back.

She looked down—and spotted the new crack in the ground. She gasped, immediately latching on to the distraction. "Hey, what's that! That wasn't here before!" She knelt next to the crack and peered inside. "Whoa!"

"Huh. Maybe it opened up when the rift broke?"

"How deep do you think it goes?" Mabel hopped back up, straddled the gap, and yelled down into it, "Hello!"

"Careful," Dipper said. "What if it's unstable?"

"We should give it a name," Mabel said. "It's a new geographic feature! We can put it on maps and be famous! What'll we call it?"

"Huh." Dipper stroked his chin. "Well... it looks kind of like a miniature fault line... and you were here when it formed, so I guess that kinda means you discovered it... so maybe... 'Mabel's Fault'...?"

Mabel stared at him.

Dipper's eyes widened in horror. "Oh. Ohh no."

Mabel bit her lip.

"I didn't mean it that way! I swear I didn't mean it that way—"

"Dipper!" Mabel cracked up. "We're calling it that."

"No," Dipper said, mortified. "Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Please please don't—"

"Grunkle Staaan, Grunkle Fooord!" Mabel took off toward where they'd last seen their grunkles. "Did you hear what Dipper said—!"

"I'm sorryyy!"

####

2013

Dipper cringed. "Look, I didn't hear it until I said it out loud, okay—"

Bill burst out in shrill cackles.

"I didn't mean it!"

"Y-you're the worst brother ever!"

Dipper groaned, contemplated climbing down into the fault, and instead settled for pulling his hat down over his face again.

Ford passed by with the scanner, shot Bill a suspicious sideways look, and demanded, "What's so funny?"

Still laughing, Bill gestured at the "MABEL'S FAULT" sign.

"Oh." Ford glanced at Dipper, fought not to smile at the poor kid's embarrassment—he'd gotten enough teasing last summer—and said, "Right." He moved on.

"Hey," Bill called, "What's the score?"

Ford paused, but didn't reply.

"Well?" Bill pressed. "You're already past where the rift broke! Don't you figure that's where the most rips would be?"

Ford said, "The scanner's detecting about fourteen thousand."

Bill whistled. He meandered back to Ford's side of the fault. "Sounds like a lot. I'm telling you, the wormholes in this place should've been sutured, that's what your problem is."

"It is a lot," Ford said brusquely. He hesitated. "But."

"But?" Bill prompted.

"But... it's less than a fifth of what we'd expect to see if the fabric of reality were falling apart."

"Wow. Let me pretend to be surprised." Bill made zero effort to look surprised. "That's because the fabric of reality isn't falling apart. You idiot."

Ford glared at his scanner silently.

"You fool," Bill tried. "You buffoon."

Ford rounded furiously on him. "The more you say it's nothing, the more you just convince me that you're lying!"

"Which is stupid! If you always assume I'm lying, how do you know I'm not saying 'it's nothing' to trick you into thinking it's something when it isn't!"

"I don't know! There's no way to know with you! That's why I'm checking with a scanner!" Ford pointed aggressively at the scanner. "Because I'm a scientist!"

"You're a pretty pathetic scientist if you refuse to listen when the expert on a topic tells you what's—"

"—maybe if the self-proclaimed 'expert' weren't a mythomaniac—"

"Guys," Dipper said tiredly. "You've had this argument three times. Can we move on?"

Ford closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. "Right."

"No," Bill said. "Not until I win it."

"Can it, Bill." Ford glanced toward the sky to orient himself, looked around for the path through the trees, and started walking. "Come on. Next site—the place where the rift closed."

Bill clenched his jaw. Under his breath, he muttered, "As if I've ever done anything in my life to make me look untrustworthy..." He glanced up as well—and his gaze lingered on the sky much longer than Ford's.

####

"So I was thinking about what we could do after this," Dipper said, looking hopefully up at Ford.

It took a moment for Ford to drag himself out of his thoughts and look at Dipper. "Yes? You mean after..."

"After the ecl—" Dipper winced, "the... rips get sealed, or whatever's going on." He'd pulled out his journal and was holding it hopefully. "Maybe... I could show you the research I've been doing on the Fremont Nightwigglers? I think they've been stealing pants in town."

He gave Dipper a little more attention. "Is this one of their migration years?"

"Yeah, I think so! One was caught on a security camera—or at least what looks like one. Here." Dipper flipped open to the two-page spread he was currently working on and held it up for Ford to inspect.

He studied the pictures, smiling slightly. "Would you look at that. Very impressive research. I only experienced one migration during my time in Gravity Falls, and they'd all but moved on by the time I caught wind of it. Never even saw one—I had to interview the townspeople to get a description of them."

"Really? I don't remember seeing them in your journals."

"Ah, they never made it in. I was focused on compiling magical spells and artifacts for Journal 2 at the time. I took some notes with the thought of putting them in Journal 1, but never felt like I'd collected enough information to write about them—especially when I hadn't witnessed one myself," Ford said. "You've already collected more here than I ever did. I wasn't even sure they were real!"

Dipper's face lit up. "Really? It's not that much—I still haven't found one yet either, it's mostly interviews about the crime spree."

"It's more real investigative work than I did on them. I only got as far as asking a couple of people at the diner to describe the local stories. You've got the dates and times they've been hitting the stores."

"I guess so." Dipper beamed proudly. "I haven't heard any 'local stories' about them, though. I only recognized them from a documentary I saw on Californian cryptids."

"That might be the Blind Eye's handiwork. Everyone recognized the name when I lived here. I'll see if I can dig up the notes I took, you might find the information valuable," Ford said. "I'm not sure where I left them, but they're probably still somewhere in my study."

"Scrapbook in your study on the top right corner of your desk," Bill said. "Under the box of glue bottles. You're welcome."

Ford threw him an irritated look. Bill had gotten ahead of them while Ford was looking at Dipper's journal, and now he was crouched beside a creek, scooping up handfuls of water, momentarily inspecting them, and letting them spill back out. The eye on the hood stared balefully up at Ford from Bill's back.

Ford asked, "What in the world are you doing."

"Communing with the dread harbingers of the coming eclipse," Bill said flatly. "You can't see them of course, they're invisible to you."

"Of course." Ford muttered, "I don't know why I bother to ask."

Under his breath, Bill mumbled, "Don't know why he bothered to ask."

Ford studied the creek and checked his map. They were hiking east toward the lake, with the town to their south and the cliff to the north; the creek ran north to south in front of them. On the other side of the creek, southeast of them, was a thicker, overgrown part of the woods, the shadows between the trees darker and quieter. "This seems like a safe place to wait," Ford said. "Dipper, you stay here while I scan the next site. Keep him out of trouble."

Dipper nodded. Bill cast Ford a sullen look, then rolled his eye and looked back at the water.

"After I've checked the next spot, we'll follow the cliffside to the lake," Ford said, pointing northeast, away from the dark area of the forest. "If there's still daylight, we can take a boat behind Trembley Falls and set up camp inside the cave."

"Sounds good." Dipper looked at Bill's tiny borrowed backpack. "You... didn't bring a tent, did you."

"Sorry, do you think I have a tent to bring?" Bill asked. "Do you expect me to slide an entire tipi out of my—"

Ford interrupted, "Dipper, you brought a tent, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Then that's sufficient. You can share my tent and we'll set up Bill's as far from ours as possible. We'll be safer that way."

Bill ignored the implicit accusation with silent dignity.

Dipper nodded. "Good idea."

"Now, let's see..." Ford studied the creek. It was much wider than he could usually jump, but under the current gravity conditions... He bounced on the balls of his feet a couple of times, testing how light he currently felt; then took a few steps back, got a running start, and with a "hup!" leaped across the creek. He cleared it by several feet and almost ran into a tree.

Dipper gasped. "Are you okay?"

"Fine, Dipper! Just... don't know my own strength." How low was gravity now, he wondered? He could see grass swaying beneath the surface of the creek. It hadn't rained lately; without as much gravity, even water was being pulled down less, letting it rise higher and flood the creek's banks. He hoped they figured out how to reverse this before the lake flooded. When they made it into the cave, they'd have to camp on high ground. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

Dipper side-eyed Bill; but when he kept gazing into the water without a word, Dipper said suspiciously, "What, no complaints about camping?"

"What's there to complain about?" Bill asked.

"I don't know, you've complained about everything else so far."

"This is the only part of your expedition that isn't a terrible idea," Bill said. "I love camping! Hypothetically. The Nightmare Realm isn't known for picturesque campgrounds. But hey, I like being surrounded by trees. And a private tent? Deluxe accommodations! It's just too bad you'll be dragging the mood down."

"Hey."

Bill laughed. "You're too easy."

Dipper scowled. "You don't seem like the type to be into camping."

"Why not?"

Dipper thought about it. "Man, I dunno, you just—seem like a city person? You're always talking about how much you want to throw wild parties, that's basically the opposite of camping in the woods."

"Is it?" Bill asked. "Welcome to the cult of Dionysus."

Given what Dipper could remember about Dionysus from the book of Greek mythology he'd read in sixth grade, he supposed wild parties and hanging out in the woods weren't mutually exclusive. So what was it about Bill that made Dipper feel so strongly that he wouldn't be caught dead roughing it?

Finally, Dipper said, "I guess it's the top hat and bow tie."

"They're not a top hat and bow tie."

He gave Bill a perplexed look. "Really? What are they?"

"Did you ever read that horror story about the bride with a velvet ribbon tied in a bow around her neck, and when her new husband unties it, her head falls off her neck and bounces down the stairs—?"

Dipper shuddered. "I'm sorry I asked."

Bill laughed.

After a brief silence, he finally dragged his eyes away from the water and impressively flicked a couple of mosquitoes out of the air with a finger. (Dipper wished he could do that. His arms were coated in soothsquito bite messages. He wondered what "BURN TACK" was supposed to mean.) Bill took off his backpack, rummaged around in it, and muttered, "I should've brought a book." He looked around the bank of the creek for a patch of sunlight, pushed his sleeves and leggings up to expose as much skin as possible, and flopped down in the light, eyes shut and hands laced on his chest over the backpack.

Dipper supposed that meant he was being ignored. He took his journal back out and flipped to the section on the Nightwigglers. He'd need some empty space to add Ford's local folklore once they got home. Was there any open space in the next few pages?

"It really shouldn't be called 'Mabel's Fault,'" Bill said out of the blue. "It's not her fault. It should be called 'Bill's Fault.' I'm the one who made it, aren't I?"

Dipper lowered his journal. "Sorry, are you actually accepting blame for something? You're admitting you did something wrong?"

Bill didn't even open his eyes. "I'm not 'accepting blame,' I'm claiming credit. Weirdmageddon was great. Can't help that you're all too boring to see that."

"But you said 'Bill's Fault.' Not 'Bill's Triumph' or something."

"Sure, because we're talking about a geological fault. Don't read too deep into it, kid."

"Pff, no, you definitely said it was your fault. I can't believe Grunkle Ford missed that—"

Bill abruptly sat up. "Hey. What's the 'next site.'"

"What?"

Bill counted off on his fingers, "Six-Fingers said there are four sites you want to hit, right? The place where the rift formed, the place Weirdmageddon started, the place the rift was during Weirdmageddon, and the place Weirdmageddon ended. The rift formed at the portal—been there—Weirdmageddon started at the fault—been there—during Weirdmageddon it was in the sky—going there tomorrow—so where did Weirdmageddon end? Wasn't it in the sky too?"

"Oh," Dipper said. "It's just. Y'know. It's just a... place."

Bill gave him a sharp look.

Dipper swallowed hard. "No big deal. Just... trees and stuff."

Bill flipped up his eye patch, staring in the direction Ford had disappeared. Dipper could see the white of his eye turning red.

"Hey!" Dipper got in front of Bill, trying to block the view of the forest. "It's nothing important. You—you wouldn't even be interested. Really."

Bill just stared straight through Dipper. And then, before Dipper could react, Bill was on his feet and bolting past him. By the time Dipper turned around Bill was already across the creek, following the path Ford had taken.

"No no no, come back!" Dipper jumped the creek and sprinted after Bill, shouting, "Don't go that way, you can't go that way, Bill—"

There was a dark, quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest, as if no animals had dared visit the area for nearly a year, leaving it to choke itself on its own greenery. Bill was headed straight for the heart of it. He moved through the trees like a swimmer through underwater ruins, kicking off trunks to propel himself forward, grabbing branches to help twist his body around and between them without slowing down—more flying than running, gravity hardly seeming to touch him at all.

He barreled past Ford and his scanner without even acknowledging him. Ford gasped, "Wait—" He turned the direction Bill had come from.

Dipper was squeezing between two trees and tripped over a hidden root. "Grunkle Ford—!"

"Dipper! You still have the bracelet!" Ford pointed, "Run the other direction!"

"Right!" He turned around and squeezed back between the dense trees.

And Ford took off after Bill.

Wild brambles tore at Bill's skin and ripped at his hoodie; he ignored the pain, letting the prickles bite into him as he forced his way through the shrubs—

And then he stood in the clearing, gasping in unsteady breaths, his wide unblinking eyes staring.

In front of him, wide unblinking eye staring vacantly into the trees, was his corpse.

"Bill!" Ford fought against the brambles, trying to figure out how Bill had gotten through. "Don't touch it! We don't know what could happen—"

Bill lunged for the statue.

The bracelet snapped tight around his wrist. Bill's fingers were inches away from his corpse's outstretched hand.

Thirty feet away, Dipper's bracelet went tight while he was trying to scramble over an ancient log. He awkwardly tried to keep his balance on the log; rather than risk toppling back in Bill's direction, he flung his weight the other way, keeping the invisible thread between them taut by leaning so far over that if it weren't for the bracelet holding him up he'd fall to the forest floor.

Bill fell to his knees, clawing at the dirt and grass with his free hand and feet, desperate to drag himself closer in spite of the completely immovable bracelet.

It seemed impossible to Ford that the thin invisible thread wrenching Bill's arm back would hold him for long; Bill would sooner dislocate his own shoulder to gain those last few inches. Ford fell out of the brambles and seized one of Bill's legs. "Bill—"

Bill tried to kick Ford in the face. "You KNEW!" he shrieked. "You knew I was here this WHOLE TIME and you NEVER TOLD ME, you ANIMALS! I could have had my body back! I COULD BE HOME!"

That was exactly what Ford was afraid of. Gritting his teeth, Ford wrapped an arm around Bill's torso and the other around his neck, struggling to get enough purchase on the torn-up ground to move Bill.

Wheezing for breath, Bill tried to kick out one of Ford's knees. Ford took advantage of the split second one of Bill's feet wasn't dug in to drag him back; he only managed to move him a few inches.

But a few inches of slack on the invisible thread was enough to throw off Dipper's balance. He instinctively tried to flail back upright, overcorrected, and tumbled off the log the wrong way. "No—!"

Bill lunged out of Ford's hold, scrabbled across the last few inches to his corpse, and planted his hand on his stone face.

He froze.

Ford froze.

Nothing happened.

"N..." Bill grabbed his arm, grabbed his hand, as though trying to shake on a deal with his own body; nothing. "No." He sounded more confused than anything. "No, no, nonono..."

He hung off the statue by his grip, pressed his forehead against their joined hands. And then he let go and slowly put his trembling hand on the dead face. And then he sat there, breathing shakily, every few seconds sucking in a hitching gasp that made his shoulders jerk.

Ford gingerly got to his feet, brushed his clothes off, and looked at Bill. He didn't move for a moment; then reached for Bill's shoulder; then stopped, curled his hand into a ball, clasped it behind his back, and turned away. "Dipper," he called. "You can come back. It's..." He cast one last glance at Bill, then forced himself to look away. "It's safe."

By the time Dipper caught up, Ford had made his way back into the overgrowth, leaving Bill alone in the clearing. Dipper started, "What...?" but fell silent when he saw Ford's face. He looked past him at Bill and winced.

Ford shoved his hands in his pockets and mumbled, "We should give him..." Dipper nodded.

Bill remained kneeling for less than a minute. Then he leaned forward, used his sleeve to wipe some of the moss off of his dead eye and the bird crap off his hat and hand, and unsteadily heaved himself back to his feet. He moved like he was very, very old. He glanced over his shoulder at Ford and Dipper. "What're you two staring at." His voice sounded like somebody was attempting to strangle him and his smile looked like a zombie had pulled its skin back on wrong. "You should've said you were waiting on me. I was just..." His eyes briefly unfocused. He shook his head. "Just taking a break." His cheeks were dry. He hadn't even cried.

They stepped back as Bill wove around the brambles. Dipper swallowed hard and asked, "Are you alr—"

"Of course I am." Bill plodded mechanically toward the path out of the dense dark woods.

Ford asked, "Do you want t—"

"What I want is to get wherever we're pitching our tents before nightfall." Bill pulled his eyepatch back in place. "You're making us camp, right?"

They had no choice. If they wanted to get to the top of Trembley Falls, reach Gravity Peak, and get back down the same day, they had to be ready to ascend in the morning. They couldn't afford to go back to the shack tonight. "Are you s—"

"What were the readings like," Bill asked.

Ford hadn't even gotten as far as taking readings around the statue; he'd still been checking the perimeter of the overgrown zone when Bill ran past. He looked for where he'd dropped his scanner, picked it up, and checked. "215 micro-rips detected. Higher than baseline levels, but—not even as high as readings around the portal."

Voice thick with venom, Bill said, "What a surprise."

When the forest had brightened again and the creek was visible, Bill turned to travel upstream alongside it. Dipper pointed across the creek at Bill's backpack. "You forgot your..."

"Right," Bill said tiredly. He hopped across the creek.

And gasped in shock when, instead of floating across as before, he landed heavily in the middle of the creek. He squeezed his eye shut, pinched the bridge of his nose, and took a long, silent inhale; and then he climbed out and grabbed his backpack. This time, he put enough force behind his jump to make it back across the creek.

Dipper and Ford exchanged a look. Ford said, "Do you need a minute to dry—?"

"No."

"You could catch a cold in those damp—"

"I knew how germ theory works on your planet when your gill-breathing ancestors were still swimming around in their own feces," Bill snapped. "When I say 'no,' it's not because I don't understand, it's because I don't care. Don't treat me like I'm ignorant and don't act like you care."

Ford's jaw tightened. No, he didn't care. Bill accepted basic human decency as easily as he offered it. "Fine. Catch pneumonia."

"Fine!"

Ford pushed past Bill to lead the way to the lake. He tried not to notice how Bill was trembling.

####

Maybe ten minutes passed in silence before Ford worked up the nerve to say, "You—know why we didn't tell you." It was the closest he'd get to an apology.

Bill was silent for a long moment. "Of course I do." It was the closest he'd get to accepting it. "When I get my power back, I'm going to invent a very clumsy, easily startled species of bird whose feathers are scalpel blades. And then I'm unleashing a million in the shack, barricading the doors, and blowing an air horn."

Dipper grimaced. Ford muttered, "Thanks for reminding us not to feel too bad for you."

Bill let out a raw, broken laugh.

It was a very quiet hike to the edge of the lake.

####

After spending the first half of the expedition trying to hurry Ford and Dipper up, now Bill was the anchor slowing them down. He trudged so slowly that Dipper kept having to stop to give his bracelet a little slack; but Bill kept moving, and Ford and Dipper agreed without speaking not to say anything about it.

By the time they reached the lake, the sun was just touching the rim of the mountain curling west around Gravity Falls. The water had risen so far, it flooded the roots of the trees nearest the shore. Far down the shore, distant dark dots, locals were doing cannonballs off the submerged pier, reveling in how high they could jump, how slowly they fell, and how their splashes hung suspended in the air.

Under the unusual conditions and with night coming on, Ford decided that it wasn't safe to try to set out for the cave under the falls. They'd camp on shore and start in the morning.

This, unsurprisingly, started another fight with Bill. "If we were falling behind, you should have said so, I'd have picked it up—!"

"I'm so sorry, I didn't want to imply you were too ignorant to tell the time—"

"The time isn't the issue, I just didn't think you'd give up for the night before it's even civil twilight—!"

Dipper just found a low hill to pitch his tent on.

When Bill noticed, he broke off the argument, flung his hands in the air in defeat, and crouched by the lake to sulk and study the water. He reflexively scratched his arm, pushed up his sleeve with a frown, and read the soothsquitos' message. "'Deeth in the mourning,'" he muttered. "What's deeth? That's not a word."

Maybe they'd been trying to spell teeth, Ford thought. Why would they warn Bill about teeth?

Ford pitched his tent, he and Dipper made a fire, and they attempted to reconstitute some of Ford's dehydrated astronaut food to mixed success. Bill stayed by the lake and tried to eat the cereal he'd brought, but gagged on the second handful and decided dinner wasn't worth the effort.

As Ford cleaned up after dinner, Dipper rummaged through his backpack. "Hey, Grunkle Ford. So..." He pulled out a portable chess kit. "I brought this to Gravity Falls back when I thought this would be a normal summer and I thought we might go camping? And, well, here we are, and I guess things are kiiinda weird, but, I mean... might as well...?"

Fiord smiled wanly. "I think that's just what we need to unwind."

They unrolled Dipper's canvas chess board and took several tries to set up the pieces on the uneven surface. Ford let Dipper take white; he figured the younger and less experienced player could use the advantage of going first.

Bill wandered over with a can of cider early in the match and crouched at the edge of the firelight to watch. He had rolled his sleeves back down, tied his bow tie, and flipped up his hood, and in the dimming flickering light he looked disconcertingly like his real self. He hadn't bothered to stuff his hair into his hood, and it gave the impression that some strange golden internal organs were spilling out of a gash beneath Bill's eye.

After watching for several minutes, Bill said, "Dibs on playing the winner."

Ford and Dipper said, "No."

"Why not!"

"Because we don't like you," Dipper said.

"Oh, come on." Bill ignored Dipper, turning toward Ford. "Remember how much fun we used to have?"

"I remember that you're an incorrigible cheat and made every game miserable," Ford said.

Bill reeled back. His face was hidden under the shadow of his hood, yet somehow the shadow gave off the impression of fury. He chugged half his cider, unslung his backpack, and dug around inside it. "Who wants to play against humans anyway." He unscrewed a bottle of cold medicine, topped off his cider, and poured the concoction down his throat. "Ugh. You're not even any good. Black's got mate in three and I bet neither of you can see it."

Ford and Dipper stared at the board, trying to find the looming checkmate.

Bill stood. "I'm gonna go hallucinate, pass out, and hallucinate some more. More fun than hanging out with a couple of nerdy losers playing a stupid game of..." He trudged off toward his tent, muttering to himself.

Ford concluded that Bill was probably making up the mate in three—although not confidently—and returned to the game with a sigh. "It will be nice to drop him back in the shack," he muttered.

Dipper nodded. "Yeah."

Ford won—not in three moves—and they started a new game. Several minutes in, Dipper asked hesitantly, "Grunkle Ford? Do you really think the micro-rip theory...?"

Ford pursed his lips, but admitted, "Out of all the locations of concern, you could argue that the spot in the sky where the rift spent a week floating has the highest probability of sustaining lasting damage, so we still need to check. But..." He shook his head. "Based on the empirical evidence—I'm beginning to have my doubts."

Dipper's shoulders relaxed; part of him had worried questioning the Acceptable Theory would be taken as disloyalty. "Then, what do you think about Bill's...?"

Ford snorted. "'Gravitational eclipse' explanation?" He propped his chin in his hand, thinking. "I'm only certain of two things: Bill knows exactly what's going on; and he's hiding something he doesn't want us to know. Everything he's told us so far is what he wants us to think is the truth, and because of that, any of it could be lies. He hasn't given us anything we can independently verify in any way—just vague claims he expects us to take his word for and refuses to elaborate on. Even if he is telling the truth, it doesn't matter. We have to act like... not like he's lying, per se; but like what he says has no correlation with whether it's true."

And thus had been the case with everything Bill had said and done since his capture. Every power he claimed he still had, and every power he acted like he'd lost. Every bit of magical, historical, or interdimensional trivia he spouted off to make himself sound smarter. Every sweet thing he'd said to Mabel, every favor he'd offered Stan—and every time he'd told Ford he wanted to be "friends."

Dipper nodded. "Mabel says that's just how Bill talks. He doesn't care about whether what he's saying is true, he just tells you what he thinks should be true."

Ford would have to keep that in mind when talking to Bill in the future. "That girl's a wizard with Bill. Maybe she's right." Still—he had a hard time believing that figuring out what Bill was really saying had actually been that simple all along. (Maybe he just didn't want it to be that simple, after all the time he'd wasted.)

Ford glanced down at the ring the Hand Witch had gifted him. The first time she'd given it to him in the eighties, she'd told him that if the ring ever turned black, he'd chosen the wrong friends and doomed himself. He couldn't tell if it was just the firelight, but as he looked in the deep blue cabochon now, he swore he saw a swirl of black spiraling beneath the surface. He wished he knew what that meant—was he supposed to trust Bill more, or had he already absentmindedly taken something Bill had said on faith that he shouldn't have? Had that swirl first appeared only now during the eclipse, or when Ford had started studying the miniature grimoire Bill had gifted him? Was it even due to Bill? Ford hadn't studied mood-ring-o-mancy.

Dipper snuck a rook onto Ford's back row. "Checkmate."

Ford huffed. "Well done." He'd been so distracted, he hadn't even noticed Dipper lining his rook up.

Dipper pushed Ford's king over. It dramatically fell in slow motion.

They packed up the chess board, put out the campfire, and slept uneasily.

####

In spite of the sedative cold medicine, Bill couldn't get any decent sleep. It wasn't even a good trip. Every time he shut his eyes for a few minutes, he hallucinated/dreamed that he was locked back in the shack staring at the high attic ceiling, or staring silently at Soos's bedroom—or watching over the town graveyard from high above; or locked like a hunting trophy in a glass display case in some local hick's darkened den; kidnapped and tied up beneath Gideon's bed; closed in a dark airless leather box; preserved like an ancient relic in the museum; hovering above Gravity Falls' valley and trees in the still night sky —

—or petrified in the middle of a quiet knot of overgrown plant life deep in the forest.

Or still in the tent but with his head wrenched around wrong, unable to move or feel his limbs, staring out at an angle that should have been impossible—until he awoke with lungs heaving to find his body was right and he wasn't dead; only for the humanity of his shape to reassert itself and he envied the stone corpse.

He crawled out of his tent, threw up his ill-advised concoction of cider and cold medicine, and collapsed, slipping in and out of a delirious doze until morning.

####

(I have been so looking forward to inflicting this chapter on y'all. Hope you enjoyed, please let me know what you think, and if you thought that was bad then stay tuned for things getting even worse for Bill!! 🎉)

#(there's another 2 pics I might later add at the top; but I don't wanna spoil it when the chapter's new. give folks a day to read or so lol)#bill cipher #human bill cipher #grunkle ford #stanford pines #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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