#Bill Chase

[plus-low-overthrow]

PHOTO 45: Chase - Weird Song No 1 (Epic)

Drums, Horns & Synthersizers, 1974.

[thatrandomblogsays]

Annabeth: I, a child, had to earn Thalia’s love, that’s how the world works! I have to earn my moms love. Love is transactional, you gotta be worthy of it first silly :)

Percy, listening to this on the train

[unashamedly-enthusiastic]

Tried to tip a tumblr blog at 1am and it was such a suspicious transaction it immediately put a full fraud freeze on my account

Fortunately, banks no longer just ask 'did you make that transaction' they want to make sure you weren't scammed into making that transaction and 5mins after their call will give away all your money anyway.

This is an honest to goodness life saving movement and I cannot be happier banks are adopting it

Unfortunately, it meant I had to have the most embarrassing financial call of my life

-

Me: Ah yeah I was just trying to tip a tumblr blog

Cash: right and were you directed there by a Facebook link? An Instagram advert?

Me: no I was just on tumblr...on purpose

-

Caah: and this person asked you for money?

Me: oh no they just had a funny story, which happened to be about money and I thought, "wouldn't it be funny if I tipped them"

-

Me: * covering a reblog by reblog update on the adventures my mutual was having *

Cash: okay I don't think that can actually happen though..

Me: It might not have, but i was happy to tip them just because it was funny

-

Cash: and how well do you think you know this person?

Me: *considers explaining how much I know about a beloved mutual without ever knowing their name or face* ... I have no idea who this person is

I think in the end Cash decided there was no saving me from myself

[theknucklehead]

I love the promotion for Sonic 3 where they took a bunch of classic Christmas movie posters and parodied them with the Sonic characters.

[theghostinyourwalls]

I’m not gonna say “hear me out” because there’s no reason for y’all to be hearing me out BECAUSE HES PERFECT

[strawberry-eden]

violence solves (most) problems — danny johnson x reader

↪ summary — you're relatively new in the fog, having been here just long enough to get a hold on the working order of this place when you catch the unfortunate eye of the most obsessive man on the planet, who decides that you're going to be his newest plaything.

or, your first encounter with the notorious ghostface killer goes very poorly.

↪ tags — canon typical violence, swearing, crack treated seriously, blood & injury, obsession at first sight, gender neutral pronouns/description for reader, no use of y/n, and danny's weird way of flirting

↪ word count — 2.4k

a/n: i wrote this originally way back in february but i found it again and figured i would share with the class. inspired by a cool piece of art i saw on twitter that ended up spiraling from there. enjoy!

The cold air of Mount Ormond ski resort bites angrily at your bare face, your shallow breaths manifesting in puffs of white fog as you fight to keep giant spidery talons from spearing through your torso. A low, guttural growl sounds from all around you and nowhere all at once, your arms shaking from effort as a particularly hard shove from the entity forces your hooked shoulder to shift, sending a ripple of white-hot agony through your body. “Fuck!”

This is your first match of the day. Not a single generator has been done and none of your teammates have been hooked yet. If anybody is coming for you, you can’t see through the cage the entity’s talons have created around you, itching to close in and take you back the campfire. You’re half tempted to let her do it.

You barely register the second pair of hands that appears and bats her away until they’re gently pulling you down from the hook by your armpits, holding you up until you’re steady on your feet. You blink away a few stray tears to look up at the face of your savior. “No offense, kiddo, but you look like shit,” says Bill.

You almost shrug instinctively but stop yourself last second. “A little bit taken. I feel like shit,” you mutter. He shoots a cautious glance over his shoulder, then takes you by the arm and leads you away from the hook towards a safer spot to patch you up. You can’t help but flit your gaze all around the area, searching for that haunting white mask or floating strips of leather, wondering if you’re being watched from somewhere.

Bill catches your paranoid expression and frowns. “Christ, what’d you do to him?”

Unable to hide your frustration, you round on Bill with an exasperated cry, “I don’t know! He just—” You make a vague gesture. “Set his eyes on me and decided he wanted me dead! I haven’t even touched a gen yet, for fuck’s sake.”

Bill pulls you behind a boulder secluded somewhere in a corner of the resort. You squint at the shape of the killer shack some ways away, trying to get your bearings. Bill whistles lowly. “Maybe he’s just trying to get an easy win, then. Lord knows it’s working. The rest of us are struggling to keep up.”

You collapse into a bloody pile into the snow, leaning against the rock and pressing a hand against your wounded shoulder while he pops open his medkit. “Yeah, well. I’m still pissed about it.”

“Oh, we all are,” he replies. “Nobody likes being down a teammate this early on. You got anything to help you out?”

Your face scrunches in confusion. “What?”

He raises a grayed eyebrow. “You know, like that trick David pulls to endure pain, or how that girl Laurie hides glass in her sleeves. They teach you any of that?”

“Uhh… No?”

Bill curses under his breath. “You’re kidding, right?” He curses again, louder this time when you shake your head. He digs into one of his many pockets, pulling out something that he clutches tightly in his palm, then motions for you to extend your hand. He places something smooth and warm into it, closing your fingers around the object. “Hide it well, okay? If he sees it, it’s game over. And make sure you don’t. Miss. That was my second chance, and I’m giving it up so you a better shot. If you end up fumbling, I’m never gonna let you live it down.”

Bill holds your gaze until you give a slow nod, retracting his hands as he returns to rustling around the supplies in his medkit. When you open up your fingers, you are greeted by your own reflection looking back at you from a small, sharp piece of glass. It’s almost shaped like a knife if you turn it right. “What do I do with it?” You ask curiously.

Bill wheezes out a laugh. “Stab him with it, obviously.” You bite back a painful hiss when he begins stitching your wounds back together, which he apologizes for under his breath. “But don’t just swing it around all willy-nilly, you gotta wait until he isn’t expecting it—like when he’s got you slung over his shoulder like a sack of meat thinking you’re gonna be an easy kill. Then, you take your opportunity to prove him wrong and stab it right into his shoulder. Always shocks ‘em so bad they drop you then and there. Gives 'em a taste of their own medicine, which they don’t like too much, y’know?”

You stare thoughtfully at the shard. If it’s such an effective tactic, then why in the world hasn’t anybody told you about it? You can’t help but feel a bit betrayed.

“Doesn’t always work, though,” he says, pulling the question straight from your mind. “After a while, they start to expect it, which means you gotta change it up. Start playing stealthier, like Zarina or Jake—the guy’s got an iron will. Real impressive. I have no idea he’s even hurt until I realize he’s left a streak of blood halfway across the map.”

This is all too much information to ingest when you feel about five seconds away from dying via blood loss. “Got it,” you mumble breathlessly.

Bill blanks at you. “You didn’t retain a thing I just said.”

"I got all the important parts."

“Sure you did,” he huffs. He starts opening up some gauze, when all of a sudden, his head shoots up and his whole body goes rigid. Bill’s wide eyes find your alarmed ones, and all that he’s able to get out before all hell breaks loose is, “Run.”

There’s an almost imperceptible rustle of clothing that doesn’t reach your ears. You’re frozen in place, barely given enough time to register the command as you watch him jump to his feet. “What?”

“God damnit, kid, I said run—!”

“There you are,” a third voice purrs, and you barely get a glimpse of the knife that glints maliciously at you just before it’s buried in Bill’s back. The hoarse scream that’s torn from the older man’s throat echoes hauntingly in your ears as it digs in deeper, forcing him against the ground. Dark red splatters across the snow when Ghostface violently wrenches it out of him.

Your shoulder cries out as you feebly scramble backwards, every little cut and bruise on your body flaring in pain as you awkwardly clamber back to your feet. Ghostface steps clean over Bill, who groans in pain on the ground, and the shard in your sweaty hand suddenly feels a thousand times heavier.

You can hear the simper in his voice when he says, “You didn’t forget about little old me, did you?” He wraps his gloved fingers around the bloody knife, wiping it clean with one swipe. “Oh, darling, I’m hurt.”

You’re running before you even know it. The cold air stings your lungs with each intake, your muscles burning with every step. You don't have a clue where you’re headed until you’re tearing through the killer shack, narrowly avoiding crashing into the generator that sits in the middle. You don’t need to look to know that he’s right behind you if the sounds of crunching snow and throaty laughter are anything to go by, and when your bare fingers find the splintered slab of wood sitting against the doorway, you waste no time throwing it down behind you.

You stop and turn to shout obscenities towards your assailant, but he’s nowhere to be found. You blink, and a knife is suddenly jammed between your ribs. “You should really look behind you sometimes,” Ghostface says coolly, pressing the blade deeper in emphasis and relishing in the way you whimper in pain. “Maybe you would have actually seen me go around the side of shack. Kind of embarrassing to fall for that, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

He tsks, ripping the knife out of your side and effectively taking away the only thing keeping you upright, letting you fall to the ground in a bloody heap. You look up at him through hazy eyes, looking like a dark mist against the pale gray sky, the screaming white mask being the only thing to come into focus. “You know, I don’t usually do this—”

You watch as one of his hands dives underneath his cloak, searching around for something for a solid five seconds until he pulls out a small handheld camera with a muted A-ha!

“—but I like you, so I’m willing to make an exception.”

“An exception?" You spit out a wad of blood and saliva. "What the hell are you—”

The air is unceremoniously knocked out of your lungs when he plops himself down on your stomach, knees caging you in and pinning your hands against the snow. You flinch when the glass shard hidden in your sleeve pinches the skin of your wrist.

Gloved fingers firmly grip your jaw and force you to turn toward the camera lens as he leans in close, the scent of cheap cologne assaulting your senses and filling up your head. You swear the smell alone would kill you before he ever could.

“Smile,” he breathes into your ear, and you’re blinded by the flash that goes off when he clicks the camera. You’re busy recoiling in the aftermath while he gazes quietly at the picture in the viewfinder, blinking away the green and purple splotches in your vision. Still gripping your jaw, he forcefully turns your head to show it to you.

The picture looks about exactly how you’d expect it to turn out. You're staring wide-eyed at the camera in shock and fear, blood seeping from your various wounds and soaking into your clothes. His mask takes up the entire left side of the photo, but if you look hard enough, you think you can spot a pair of dark eyes staring into the lens—they’re squinted at the edges, like he’s actually smiling underneath it as he casually holds up a peace sign.

"Say, you weren't a model or anything before this, were you? 'Cause damn." He lets out a low whistle. "This one’s definitely going in my collection.”

He takes one last, long look at the picture before tucking the camera back into his coat and stands, allowing the blood to resume flowing through the veins in both of your arms again as they’re overcome by that numb, prickly feeling. Too hurt and exhausted to resist, you limply allow him to maneuver you into a sitting position, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist as he effortlessly hauls you up onto his shoulder.

"Alright, playtime's over," he huffs. "Duty calls, blah blah blah, you know how it is. Ain't no rest for the wicked."

Something smooth and sharp slides into your palm from the depths of your sleeve. Catching a glimpse of your reflection in it’s surface, you let out a gasp that Ghostface assumes must be from the sight of the giant meat hook that appears at the corner of the shack, because he gently pats the backs of your thighs in what you assume is meant to be reassurance.

"Now, don't you worry, sweet-pea," he says, “the next time you and I get matched up, I promise I’ll play nice. Maybe if you’re good, I’ll even let you escape, yeah?” He laughs, and you can feel it vibrating through your ribcage. “After I kill your friends, of course.”

You grip the glass so tight in your palm, it digs into your fingers, drawing blood. You see your own eyes staring back at you through a thin stream of red, wild and angry and terrified, Bill’s words bouncing around in your skull as you raise the shard and slam it hard into the back of his shoulder, digging in viciously and twisting.

He inhales sharply, hands immediately losing their grip on you as he drops down to one knee, letting you slide off of his shoulder and land face-first in the snow. You push yourself up to your hands and knees, then to your feet, and glance nervously over your shoulder.

You meet those same eyes that had peered gleefully at you in the picture, no longer hiding behind that wretched mask as it lays by your feet in the snow, but they’re not squinting like they were before. They’re wide, pupils shrunken into tiny pinpricks as they bore into you, nostrils flaring and lips curling into a grimace as he reaches behind him and rips out the glass. Blood sprays from the wound in an arc, a fury so deep and animalistic roiling in his guttural tone as he ...

... Laughs.

Something dangerous glitters within his irises as he turns to face you. What catches you most off-guard, though, is that he's actually handsome underneath the mask—he's younger than you thought, with long lashes and full lips. A tiny scar marks the corner of his mouth, and it stretches slightly as he bares his teeth in a wide, manic grin.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you?" He drops the glass shard and stands, and you're screaming at your body to move, but you can't. You just watch as he slowly reaches out to collect his mask and knife, refusing to take his eyes off of you even once. It's like it's just his gaze keeping you pinned. "The gift that keeps on giving?"

A loud buzzer sounds from somewhere in the distance. You flick your gaze away for just a moment to check which direction it came from, and by the time you look back, he's already secured the mask back in place.

"I'll tell you what," he begins, tilting his head at you curiously. "Let's make a bet. If you can last until your friends get alll the gens done, I'll let you go."

You swallow thickly. "And if I can't?"

Silence. You don't need to see his face to know that he's smiling. "You wanna find out?"

Strangely enough, a part of you almost does.

He lunges then, but you’re already on the move, adrenaline as well as an odd cocktail blend of terror and exhilaration pushing your body past its limits in a last-ditch effort at escaping this trial with your life.

You probably won’t, but you’re definitely gonna give him a run for his money—you figure that you've earned at least that much.

[watchoutpaul-hemightkickyourhead]

current mood: in character one star reveiws of Wiggly on the starkid merch store

There's so many geralds, this is only two:

THESE ONES ARENT EVEN *FROM* HATCHETFEILD???? HOW DID WIGGLY REACH THEM???????

*ANNABETH CHASE CAMEO????????!??!?!*

[dimonds456]

Okay but if Bill actually did steal Ford's eyes, do you know what that would mean??

Cuz the ONLY thing keeping Bill out of the basement- thus away from the portal- were retinal scanners, which would only work if Ford was himself. If his eyes were slits (thus Bill was possessing him) the door would not open.

So that's genius, right? Boom. Now even if Bill possesses Ford, Bill will never get into the basement! Hah!

But uhh. If the Eye Stealer takes Ford's eyes, that isn't a problem anymore, is it? Cuz they could just use those eyes, which would be stuck with Ford's original retinas, and open the door THAT way

And what would Ford have been able to do to stop them? Even IF he had sight, his body was so broken and battered and tired by that point that if he went up against a monster, he wouldn't stand a chance.

Not only that, but if Ford were to get possessed again, no one would be able to tell. Ignoring the behavioral differences, from a visual aspect, they look EXACTLY the same. The ONE TELL that Bill is possessing someone is just GONE.

The only thing Bill would loose in this situation is sight himself, IF he ever possessed Ford again. But that'd probably be worth it considered there is NOTHING BUT GAINS otherwise. That, and he wouldn't have much of a reason to anymore aside from psychological torture to either Ford himself or the people around him.

Like. That's terrifying.

No wonder Ford was so goddamn afraid. If the Eye Stealer was successful, there would be no way to stop Bill. That, and Ford would be blinded for life, and possibly killed, because there's no way Bill would treat his injuries after that, right?

He wasn't just backed into a corner here; he was actively being pushed into it.

[eye-candy-film-enjoyer]

Wes Anderson Movies + textpost part 11/11 (I didn’t give up)

Fantastic Mr Fox Edition

[scrrunchi]

LAST PART

FIRST PART

This… took way too long to finish. I fell out of the whole IT and Reddie vibe for a while but I’m baaaack! Never thought that I would have so much trouble finishing THIS part out of all of them, because I had planned this one for almost 2 and a half years and I was so excited to finally put it into the comic, but it ended up to be the one that made me so mad because it wasn’t perfect and I didn’t even wanna look at it for months, so you can clearly see the pages that I drew in fucking May and the ones I literally just finished today…

Soooo, I’m very sorry for the long break, but I hope the next part won’t take that long… thank you all for asking when I can update, even though it was annoying sometimes, but I still hope some of you are still on board for the story, because we still got some monsters to kill here.

[nephalem-da]

I hope this is the ask box, I’m not exactly sure which one was correct but I saw your latest y/n x bill story and I wanted to suggest one?

Do it whenever you want but I was thinking monster falls AU where hunter!Bill catches y/n (not sure what creature, but something mythical would be cool) and he’s very proud of his catch, showing the angry y/n off to the henchmen- who are other various hunters now.

Also if you aren’t taking requests just ignore this lol

The Hunt

(Human!Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

Time for a Human Bill fic (╯✧▽✧)╯

Genre: Monster Falls AU, Slow-burn Romance, Humor.

Warnings: Mild violence, Panic/Anxiety on the Reader's part, Mutual pining/awkward tension, Fluff with hints of playful tension.

Summary: Bill Cipher is a skilled hunter who captures you, a rare mythical Selkie, after an intense chase through the forest. Proud of his prize, he shows you off to the Henchmaniacs.

The forest was alive with sounds of pursuit. Every snap of a branch, every whisper of wind through the leaves, sent your heart racing faster than your legs could carry you. Your feet hit the damp ground in frantic steps, each stride uneven as you darted through the towering pines. Your lungs burned, muscles protesting with every rapid movement. But you couldn’t stop. Not now.

They were close.

Bill Cipher, the infamous hunter who prowled these woods, had been tracking you for days—maybe weeks. Time had blurred into a stretch of panic ever since you realized you were being hunted. And now, the moment you feared had arrived. You were the prey in a game you hadn’t asked to join.

The transformation had already begun—whether from fear or necessity, you weren’t sure. The smooth, dark skin of your seal-like form shimmered, glinting under the dappled moonlight that barely broke through the dense canopy. The dampness from the nearby river clung to your limbs, and the scent of wet earth filled the air. You could feel the shift deep within you—the urge to dive into the water, your true element, was overwhelming. But there was no time.

Suddenly, a sharp whistle cut through the night, startling you. The sound echoed in your mind, a reminder that you weren’t alone. Bill was close.

Your seal-skin was only half-formed, and you were stuck between two worlds—too slow to slip into the full speed of your natural form, too vulnerable in this half-shifted state. Panic surged through you. You had heard the stories about Bill and his relentless pursuit of mythical creatures. There were whispers among your kind about his cruel efficiency and unbreakable persistence. He never failed.

“Where do you think you're going, fishy?” Bill's voice cut through the silence like a blade, mocking and far too close for comfort. “You’re just making this harder on yourself!”

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, but you didn’t slow. You couldn’t. With your lungs burning and your legs aching, you pushed harder, veering off the path and toward the river. Water—if you could reach it, maybe you could escape. Your Selkie form could glide through it effortlessly, leaving the hunter far behind.

But Bill had been planning this for too long, and he was one step ahead of you.

Just as the sound of rushing water reached your ears, you felt a sharp pull, the ground falling out from under you as a net sprang up, tangling you in its enchanted threads. You hit the earth hard, pain shooting through your side as you struggled against the bindings. The more you fought, the tighter the net seemed to hold, cutting into your skin and sealing your fate.

"Ha! Gotcha!" Bill’s triumphant voice rang out as he sauntered into view, his human form tall and menacing against the shadowy backdrop of the trees. His hunter’s outfit was weathered but well-kept, a wide-brimmed hat casting a shadow over his eyepatch that was oddly shaped like a triangle, and a single, golden eye.

“There you are! That took longer than I thought.” He crouched beside you, tilting his head in mock sympathy. “You almost had me, you know? But no one escapes me.”

You glared up at him, your chest heaving with the effort of trying to free yourself from the net. But it was useless. The enchanted rope sapped your strength and neutralized your magic, leaving you half-shifted and vulnerable.

Bill’s grin widened. "You’re quite the catch. I was expecting something more boring, but a Selkie?” He whistled low. “That’s rare. Guess it’s my lucky day."

You growled, shifting your weight in the net, but Bill only smirked. He grabbed a fistful of the netting and yanked you upright, pulling you onto your feet. “Easy there, slippery,” he chuckled. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my prized catch before showing you off.”

As if on cue, Bill’s henchmen—the Henchmaniacs—emerged from the shadows, laughing and cheering at their leader’s success. They were rough, grizzled hunters who worked under Bill’s command, each more eager than the last to prove their loyalty.

"Nice work, boss!" one of them shouted, nudging the others. "Look at that catch!"

The others chimed in, offering their congratulations as Bill proudly dragged you toward them, your bound form stumbling in his grip. You could feel their eyes on you—hungry, calculating, and cruel.

“Hey, think it’s dangerous?” one of them asked, eyeing your Selkie skin with curiosity.

Bill scoffed. “Not anymore. I’ve got this one under control. Besides—” he leaned in close, his voice lowering to a conspiratorial whisper—“they’re too smart for their own good, but not smart enough to escape me.”

You narrowed your eyes, but your glare only made Bill chuckle. He tugged the net tighter, making you wince.

Behind him, the Henchmaniacs began to busy themselves with camp preparations, their voices blending into the background as they moved through the clearing. A fire crackled nearby, its light casting flickering shadows across the monstrous landscape.

And just beyond the edge of the camp, you could see them—the creatures of Gravity Falls. They lingered at the edge of the woods, watching with wide, glowing eyes. They watched the hunters from afar.

You could feel their gaze on you, watching as Bill presented his latest catch. They knew the game, but none of them would step in. The unspoken rule was simple: if you were caught by the hunters, you were on your own.

Bill dragged you to the center of the camp, his grin never faltering. “Everyone, meet the new addition to our little collection,” he announced, loud and proud. “A rare, hard-to-catch Selkie. Not bad, huh?”

The Henchmaniacs cheered, but the monsters at the edge of the woods remained silent, their eyes glowing with something you couldn’t quite place—pity, perhaps? Or maybe frustration? They wouldn’t step in, but it didn’t mean they weren’t waiting for something to change.

As the night wore on, you sat by the fire, still trapped in the net and unable to shift fully into your true form. Bill hovered nearby, his smug expression softening just a bit as he poked at the fire with a stick.

“You know,” he said after a long pause, “I don’t usually keep my catches alive. But you... there’s something interesting about you. Might just keep you around.”

You glared at him but didn’t respond. Every muscle in your body was tense, your mind racing with thoughts of escape.

Bill’s eye flicked to you, studying your silence for a moment before he shrugged. “Fine. Be that way. I’ve got all the time in the world.”

But there was something in the way he looked at you that gave you pause. For all his bravado and arrogance, there was something else there—a flicker of curiosity, of something deeper. He wasn’t just proud of his catch; he was fascinated by you. And that, more than anything, made your pulse quicken.

Part 2 || Alt. Part 2

[thicctails]

I know if weirdamageddon ever happens, Euclid and Scalene would be panicking as fuck.

Their son (dipper) is juat going around town on his own, getting attack by monsters that wants to feast on his flesh.

Their daughter (Mable) is TRAPPED in a bubble Bill created and is locked tight in there, with Gideon and his gang guarding over the bubble.

I think Euclid and Scalene would maybe have to go 3D on this one-

They would probably be bordering on a panic attack the whole time, frantically jumping from surface to surface, using screens and street signs to try and find where their children are, all while the world burns around them. Their 3D forms are agony to achieve and hard to keep up, but its far better than the inferno. Mabel's Bubble would also be its own special hell, because Mabel, upon seeing them, cheerfully gives them solid, stable forms. Maybe even the human-esque forms both of them have secretly dreamed of having. They can finally hug their children, feel their warm bodies and beating hearts, and be able to provide more comfort than familiar tv static and quiet radio tunes.

And they have to find the will to give that all up. And they will.

For Mabel.

honestly, If Weirdmageddon happened in this universe, I think it would be due to a different Bill causing it. Imagine, GBC!Bill still being stuck in the Nightmare Realm, trying to find a way to actually, eugh, safely find a way for only him to cross over without hurting anyone (because that would hurt Mom and Dad and he can't deal with that again), when, somehow, another version if him stumbles into his timeline! And that Bill is like "Oh, you're still stuck here? Why? Don't you know there's a weak point in reality right near you? Here, let me help ya, pal!"

And before GBC!Bill can stop him, the alternate tears open reality, fully intending on taking over himself, leaving GBC!Bill panicking because "Oh my God, my parents are gonna kill me."

[ellaellaaaaaaaa]

I got a little bit silly with this one.

Anyways left to right top to bottom, Anya (MW) Bill (GF) Draculaura (MH) and Alex (MC)

[somanyfandomsblog]

IM ACTUALLY SICK AT THIS PERCABETH ART

[haroldramistwinkie]

So cute this is probably on set of Caddyshack??

[huginsmemory]

Even with TBOB and thisisnotawebsite.com there's... Still so much we don't know about Bill. Like ok yeah he's given a tragic background, we know a bit more about his henchmaniacs, but we really don't know a lot. Like, what happened directly after he accidentally destroyed his dimension? It isn't said. Sure time baby KNOWS about Bill's destruction of his dimension, but it seems like he didn't show up after Bill's dimension was destroyed to apprehend him because he only knows about Bill after Bill tries to make a deal with him, causing Bill's wanted poster. And how did Bill become basically the overlord of the nightmare realm, and gather all his henchmaniacs? Like there's a good period where we just don't know. And it's implied he's shocked and horrified (likely even dissociates, since he does that) after he destroys his dimension. But his characterization doesn't seem by that point to be one that immediately goes into a self-destructive, violent god-becoming maniacal spiral of self hatred; it's more one to be overwhelmed with grief and spend a good long time in the midst of his grief, then necessarily he's about to DO anything. And generally speaking trope wise, there's steps missing; typically in this sort of scenario, the usual progression is this:

characterized as monster due to being different in some way

tries to prove their not

ends up hurting someone anyways

gets further villainized, and antagonized by others

Acceptance of being a monster, and goes okay? You wanted a monster? I'll be a monster.

Now this fits Bill's early life, up to number 4, but we don't know what happens immediately after. It's possible he just went into his spiral immediately after, but it feels wrong, because it is missing the part of someone further villainizing him beyond himself which causes him to lash out due to the expectation (and internalized) idea that he would cause harm. I'd assume maybe some kind of interdimensional authority showed up and accused him of purposely trying to kill his dimension, which triggered his "okay, then I'll be a monster", or even a situation where his 'monstrosity' through the badge of killing his dimension is garners him respect. Considering that his henchmaniacs are chosen out of monstrosity and violence as a badge of honor, it feels very much like this would make sense, except none of them really know about Bill's dimension. He doesn't brag about the violence of it; he only calls it a liberation, contrary to the idea that Bill ever used it to gain clout. Instead, it's more likely that an interdimensional authority showed up and accused Bill, except from circumstances, it doesn't seem like it was Time Baby, so not sure who it would be... but at the same time, that expectation is often required for the character to truly embrace their 'monstrosity' and become truly violent. Or perhaps it was delayed after the destruction of his dimension, later when he begins to run with his henchmaniacs and disregards the law, but that also doesn't feel satisfactory for character development. Or perhaps I'm just overthinking this trope...

Also, how did he have his powers? Some is clearly stuff he's always had; pyrokinesis from that one rhyme, the ability to see into 3d, and he was somehow able to destroy his dimension by whatever he did to let Euclydians see the stars (telekinesis?), but beyond that? Was he always all-seeing? How did he become a 'dream demon'? Are his deals actually binding or does he lie? Are these things that he acquired later, because Euclydians seem to be written about as if they usually don't have any of these abilities, nor the abilities Bill is known to have when young, nor did Bill seem to be able to be all seeing when he was younger. Plus, how was Bill able to survive the destruction of his dimension, if he's technically made of the same stuff as everyone else, who all seems to have a physical form? Why then does he seems to be characterized as a being made of pure energy and thought; is that just in Earth's dimension, or does he have a physical form within the nightmare realm? There's multiple things that are contradictory about his body (mouth-eye, yet talked about removing his exoskeleton to feed--not sure exactly when this was mentioned--plus his mouth located under his bricks and bowtie in his exoskeleton in journal 3). But he seems so thrilled by his physical form though on earth, and we know that physical forms exist within the Nightmare realm as Ford was in it... yet it seems like hes characterized to have no physical form, so did he perhaps lose his physical form when his dimension died? Did he technically die with them too, but with his powers was able to survive essentially as a ghost like he tells Dipper you become without a body?