#and somehow pulled bill cipher

[ryemiffie]

Just a thought I had okay, just a thought I had!

Bill: Damn it Ford, it's like you bacame a whole new person when we broke up!

Ford: What?! We never "broke up"!

Bill: ..oh my amphibian in the sky, were you not breaking up with me? Was it just a regular arguement and I jumped to conclusions and you never really wanted to leave me??!

Ford: What? No! We never broke up cause we were never together!

Bill: Babe, that really hurts my feelings when you say stuff like that, if we're gonna make this work you need to start thinking before you speak.

Ford: ??

Ford: Don't call me babe! We're not together!

Bill: You never used to have a problem with me calling you babe before.

Ford: That's cause I thought you were doing it ironically!

Bill: Oh babe, that's such a classic you move.

Ford: Stop that!

[ckret2]

Chapter 65 of human Bill Cipher still being stuck in the Mystery Shack but currently fearing back pain more than execution: it's Day 1 of Bill being off death row, let's see what everyone other than Soos is doing with their day.

When Fiddleford answered the door to Ford and Stan—Stan with the Quantum Destabilizer's case slung over his shoulder—the first thing Fiddleford said was, "That demon's still alive, isn't he?"

"Demon's still alive," Stan confirmed.

Ford let out a long sigh. "I was afraid we'd have to break the news."

"I figured when the power here flickered during your shot." He planted his hands on his hips. "You didn't use the NowUSeeitNowUDontium, did you?"

Ford shook his head.

"Well?" Fiddleford fixed Ford with an angry squint, lips pursed. (Maybe it wasn't an angry squint, Ford told himself hopefully. Maybe it was just because Fiddleford didn't have new glasses yet.) "Why didn'cha shoot him?"

"I couldn't. He escaped," Ford said. As panic began to bloom on Fiddleford's face, Ford quickly added, "But he's back! That's why I used the wrong fuel. Somehow he overheard that we'd made enough Dontium for one shot, and he—tried to persuade me to cover his escape. Firing a blank made him think I'd used the Dontium up and he was safe—"

"—So's he'd come back and you could get a proper shot at him! Ha!" Fiddleford jumped up, kicking his heels in the air, hollering, "Stanford Pines, you clever sonovagun!" His hooting and hollering died down as he realized, "So... why're you here with the destabilizer instead of shooting him?"

Ford and Stan exchanged a glance. Stan said, "Well—He—He's pretty harmless right now, really—And he's great with the kids—"

"Not with Dipper," Ford muttered.

"He's great with one of the kids."

Ford said, "And he's..." It would be a lie to say improving, wouldn't it? "He's... got the potential to improve. And we— We thought— If there's a chance he could do better..."

Sternly, Fiddleford said, "You let him get into your head again, didn't you."

Ford sighed. "I let him get into my head."

Stan held out the Quantum Destabilizer's case. "Which is why we're here. He's not in your head. You won't hesitate to pull the trigger."

"I getcha." Fiddleford accepted the case grimly. "You need me to finish the job."

Ford hastily added, "If—if it becomes necessary."

Fiddleford gave him a hard look.

Ford swallowed as he realized—as always, a moment too late—just what an enormous thing he was asking of Fiddleford and his fragile nerves. "But if you don't think— I mean, if you'd rather it stay in our hands—"

Fiddleford held the Quantum Destabilizer away from Ford. "No, no—you're right. It's safer here," he said. "You oughta shoot him. I'm never not gonna think you oughta shoot him. Especially now we know he knows how to escape. But, if you won't—better that this is in my hands than with the fellers what let that devil sucker 'em into thinking he deserves to live."

Ford wanted to say I'm sorry. If he was so sorry, why had he chosen to let Bill live? It seemed like his problems always became Fiddleford's problems—yet the only times Fiddleford's problems became Ford's was when Ford caused them. "Well—the good news is, even if he does escape, he can't get far. He's trapped inside Gravity Falls' weirdness barrier."

"Well, that's somethin'," Fiddleford muttered. Then he frowned and gave Ford a sharp look. "Wait," he said slowly. "Are you sure he can't get out?"

"I—" Ford tried to remember when they'd learned that. "Sure, we—found out that first night, didn't we?" It had been a very long night.

"Yeah!" Stan laughed. "Almost accidentally killed the guy by driving him into it."

Fiddleford nodded, his expression faraway and thoughtful. "I need to run some calculations," he said. "I'll let you know what I find."

He turned away, muttering to himself. Just before he shut the door, Ford saw Tate at the far end of the great hall, arms crossed, watching the proceedings sourly.

And then the door was shut without so much as a goodbye.

"Huh," Stan said. "Ominous!" He clapped Ford on the shoulder. "Welp, let's get home!"

####

Tate leaned into Fiddleford's lab. "Dad?"

Fiddleford was sitting at a space he'd cleared at a worktable, hunched forward and squinting to see his work as he ran through a towering stack of calculations, using a calculator to double-check his math and a second calculator to double-check the first one. As he often did, he'd put on an old record to help block out distractions; and an old country song was blasting at top volume as Fiddleford sang/yodeled along: "I haaate Bill Cipher more'n I looove my son! How I looong to shoot that sonuuuvaguuun. I'll seeee my boy when that triaaangle's done—cuz I haaate Bill Cipher more'n I looove my son—"

"Dad," Tate said louder.

"Tater!" Fiddleford sat up, automatically reached to adjust a pair of glasses he wasn't wearing, and just bumped the bridge of his nose. "What is it, son?"

"Couldja turn the volume down?"

"Turn th—?" Fiddleford looked at his record player, started when he realized what was playing, and quickly took the needle off the record. "Sorry, Tater, I—"

"It's fine," Tate said glumly.

"Didn't even realize which song'd come on. They're just words to sing along to. You know I don't really feel..."

"Just don't like Pluckin' Jim's yodeling style, that's all."

Fiddleford dropped his gaze. "All right, that's fine. I'll keep it down."

Tate stuck his hands in his pockets. "Might oughta be careful with that album, anyway. If any guests overhear it talking about the triangle and call the police..."

"Oh, I know, I know. You're right, I'll be careful. It's just..." He reached under his hat to scratch at his head like he was trying to massage his brain into working. "When it feels like the whole darn world's gone crazy, it's comforting hearin' somebody sing something sensible," he said. "I—I don't mean Jim's attitude toward his family. Just the rest of it."

"Mm." Tate nodded.

Fiddleford sighed and shook his head sadly. "I don't know—maybe I'm the one who's going crazy."

"Naw," Tate said immediately. "You're not. You're the sanest I've seen you since I was a kid, dad."

"Well—thank you, Tater. That means a lot."

"You're just stressed, that's all." Tate nodded toward Fiddleford's stack of calculations. "Don't overwork yourself, all right?"

"I won't, I promise."

"If you need help with all that math..."

"No, no, that's all right." Fiddleford waved off the offer. "It's got to do with Stanford's weirdness thingamajig." For the past few months, Fiddleford and Stanford had been working on a paper about the Law of Weirdness Magnetism—although that had seemingly ground to a stop at the start of summer.

Tate paused. "Okay, but I'm dragging you out of there for meals."

"Heh! I won't fight you."

As Tate left, Fiddleford set the needle back on the record, starting the next song: "The Three B's Poisoning Your Children (Booze, Bebop, and Bill)." Tate shut the door and let out a long sigh.

####

"I'll get it!" Dipper doubted anyone else could even hear the phone; Abuelita was asleep in the living room, Soos was upstairs hammering on something, and Bill and Mabel were at the far end of the house playing the piano and singing.

Dipper jogged into the office. "Hello?"

"Dipper!" Wendy said. "Dude! Just the man I wanted to reach."

"Wendy, hey! What's up?"

"Are you still looking for the Nightwigglers?"

"Yes! Why, did something happen?"

A couple weeks earlier, Wendy had shown him where her brother had seen the Fremont Nightwigglers; but by the time she showed him the path, they'd already come and gone a couple nights earlier. They'd found footprints and followed them to what looked like a campsite—there were odd empty burrows in the ground and traces of ashes—but when Dipper had tried to figure out where they'd gone after leaving the campsite, he'd lost their trail in the underbrush.

"Gus says he saw them on the same trail again last night," Wendy said. "Which means, if they were going back to that place we found with the burrows, and it was a campsite—"

"—then that's where they're camping today. So they'll still be there tonight!" Dipper laughed. "That's perfect! I can stake them out and watch when they wake up! Hey, do you wanna come along for a stakeout?"

Wendy groaned. "I wish. Gus freaked my dad out talking about the Nightwigglers. He says we have to stay home after dark and he's actually been checking our rooms."

"Aw, man. That stinks."

"But hey, tell me all about it at work, okay?"

"You got it! Oh—I could make a Guide to the Unexplained episode! I'll show you the whole thing."

"Oh, awesome. I can't wait to see these things," Wendy said. "Head's up, you probably wanna be quiet to avoid spooking them. Gus said they looked super skittish last night. They're probably wigging out because of gravity disappearing for a couple of days, lots of other wild animals are. I don't blame them, I'm still wondering what was up with that."

"Giant invisible flying axolotl from another dimension."

Wendy laughed in surprise. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah! I'll tell you about it at work too." Probably leaving out Bill's involvement. Speaking of Bill, where had he left Dipper's backpack? "I've gotta pack for the stakeout. Thanks for the tip!"

####

Gideon knocked on the shack's back door and waited anxiously, tugging at his sleeves and shifting from foot to foot.

The door opened to the sound of distant piano music. Dipper stood there holding a heavy backpack and a box of granola bars. "Gideon?" He didn't sound thrilled.

"Well, hey there, Dipper!" Gideon tried to sound more chipper than he felt. "I don't suppose Mabel's ar—"

"Nope," Dipper said. "What do you want?"

Gideon took a deep breath. "It's about Bill—"

"Shhh!" Dipper cast a nervous glance back toward Soos's grandma asleep in the living room. "Keep it down. Only Mabel and I know you know about Bill and no one else can find out."

"Why not?"

"Because... Mabel and I will get in trouble for not telling them sooner?"

Fair enough. Adults didn't need to know everything, Gideon thought. Voice lower, he said, "I didn't notice him with the others at Rainbow Club this week, and I saw that big laser thingamabob at the shack,"—and the next day received a panicked call from a cultist who couldn't reach Bill—"and... well—I need to know if Bill's dead, or—"

Over the piano playing, an off-key voice sang at top volume: "AND IIIIIIIIII will never HATE yooOoOOou—!" In the living room, Abuelita started from her nap, blinked sleepily, turned up the volume on the TV, and fell back asleep.

Gideon's shoulders sank in disappointment.

"Still alive," Dipper said. "He has a really bad backache, though."

"Well, dang it!" Gideon kicked at a twig on the porch. It didn't move.

"Yeah, I know," Dipper said. "But... I kinda think Bill has to stay alive? I heard this prophecy that I think is about Bill saving everyone? Probably not voluntarily—he actually really didn't want me to hear about the prophecy—so... yeah, we might just be stuck with him. At least for a while."

"Well," Gideon said sourly. "Isn't that just wonderful."

####

As he trudged home, Gideon tried to think of a way out of this. For one day, he'd thought he was blessedly free of Bill; finding out he was wrong felt like getting hauled back to prison.

If the adults didn't know he knew about Bill, maybe he could tell the Stans that Bill had been using him—surely they'd forgive Gideon for using a little dream magic to brainwash the town, right? Stan understood the lengths a businessman had to go to to advertise his business, and Ford was apparently the one who'd recorded the spell in the first place—and maybe the two of them could prevent Bill from spilling his blackmail to the rest of the town; or maybe Gideon could arrange for the Stans to "accidentally" find out Gideon had been working for Bill, and then Bill couldn't blame Gideon for spilling the beans...

Or maybe he could just stop helping Bill. Simple as that. He knew he'd been helping Bill arrange escape plans. Bill had promised he'd keep quiet about Gideon's crimes as long as Gideon didn't pick up dream magic again; but he'd never required Gideon to help him. The only issue was what his contact in Bill's cult might do and whether she might out him as one of Bill's allies; maybe he could just tell her that his parents were getting suspicious and he couldn't be a go-between anymore...

When he got home, as soon as he opened the front door he could hear his father excitedly talking in the kitchen: "It's the darnedest thing! I don't know where they came from—must be tourists, I suppose..."

Gideon followed his voice into the kitchen. "Daddy? What's all this fuss?"

Bud was grinning from ear to ear; even Joy was faintly smiling, a half-washed dish forgotten in her yellow-gloved hands. "There you are," Bud said. "Son, I've got the most terrific news! I just sold the three most expensive cars on the lot, all on the same day! Can you believe that?!"

"Well, hot dog!" Gideon grinned as well, relief washing over him. "That oughta keep us going for a while, shouldn't it?"

"It sure will! I guess you were right—we never needed any magic hocus-pocus, just good salesmanship!" Bud beamed. "But it's just the darnedest thing," he said again, "they all said they'd been referred to the dealership by a Mr. Locke."

Gideon's smile froze and his stomach flipped.

"I don't remember any Mr. Locke passing through town."

"Oh," Joy said, "there was one a—a week or two ago. Some sort of talent agent, I think? He came to see Gideon."

"Did he," Bud said, clearly a bit deflated that it wasn't his prowess as a salesman that had lured these customers to town; but he quickly recovered, "Why, that's wonderful! Maybe looking to line up another television appearance?"

"No no no," Gideon said quickly, "no, it was—it was purely a social visit. I-I knew him last summer. I'm not doing that sort of... television thing anymore."

"Ah, well. Still! Having connections pays off," Bud said. "If all he wants to do is send customers our way, I'll be mighty happy! If he comes by again, invite him to stay for dinner, it's the least we can offer him as thanks."

"I think that's a—a wonderful idea," Joy said, voice even softer than usual. "He was very friendly."

"Son?" Bud called. "Where you headed?"

"Just upstairs, I remembered I need to make a call," Gideon said. He had to ensure Sue knew Bill was alive.

Seemed like he'd be working with her and Bill for a while yet. His family couldn't afford for him not to.

####

Dipper pounced the Stans the moment they entered the shack. "Hey! Great Uncle Ford!" 

"Dipper? What—"

"Grunkle Ford, remember you promised that as soon as we weren't dealing with any Bill bull, we could go on an investigation—?"

"Hey," Stan said sternly, "any Bill what?"

"Bull... soup?" Dipper tried.

Stan nodded, satisfied. "That's right. And if your parents ask, that's exactly what you think it means." At Ford's look of amazement, Stan said, "What! Last year the kids' parents said if they came home swearing, I couldn't take 'em over the summer again."

Dipper resumed his attack: "Well, we're not dealing with any Bill bullsoup today! Come help me track the Nightwigglers!" He held up his journal, proudly showing off his unfinished spread. "Wendy told me where they're camping today! If we're there before they wake up, we can finally see them in person!"

"Really? Tonight?" Ford asked. "We just had a late night yesterday."

"Can't we have two late nights and sleep in tomorrow?" Dipper pled. "They might not be there tomorrow night! What's more important: sleep, or seeing the Nightwigglers?"

"Yes, I see your point. You're absolutely right," Ford said. "I could take a nap now and we can leave after dinner."

"Yes!"

Stan groaned, "Great—the insomniacs are enabling each other." He shook his head and started upstairs, muttering, "I'm gonna see what Soos is hammering on."

Dipper said, "I've already packed my camping supplies! Do you need help packing? I can help you pack! Come on—I can show you where we're going, too!" He impatiently led the way to the elevator.

####

This weekend, Bill had escaped the shack, faked his death, and proven that the whole Pines family actually wanted him alive; and yet, for all that, Mabel thought he seemed pretty down in the dumps today. He'd been kind of off since the eclipse.

Actually, now that she thought about it, he'd been off since before the eclipse, ever since the day he'd been grumpy to her about the glass pyramid "Mysteries." She was pretty sure he wasn't mad at her about that anymore; so she didn't know what was wrong.

But even though Mabel could see him wince when he leaned certain ways or moved his arms too quickly, he was trying to hide that he was in pain and he was trying to hide his gloomy mood. He grinned when he played the piano, and he alternated between popular songs that she knew and could sing along with and a bunch of old boring things like jazz and opera. (Bill tried to sing along to everything, even when he shouldn't. Mabel was pretty sure he was the worst opera soprano in the world.)

She didn't know how to fix whatever was actually bothering him. She could hang out with him and sing and talk—that seemed to make him happier. But Bill needed more than that.

He needed more friends.

Bill attempted a run, one hand crossing over the other and back as he rolled up the keyboard; his hands tripped over each other and stumbled across several keys at once.

Mabel laughed. "That sounded like a musical fart!"

Bill blew a raspberry. "I'll show you a musical fart." He attempted the run again, and messed up again.

Mabel laughed again. "I don't think you've got that part."

"Hey! I'm usually great at that part. It's this body—I'm used to playing it with flat fingers, I haven't practiced it with an extra dimension before," said Bill, who was lying, and had never been good at that part, and truthfully was pleased he now had an excuse that let him pretend he was actually better than he was. "Playing piano in a human body really holds me back. It takes nine hands to play my favorite song." That wasn't a lie.

He started the song over and elbowed Mabel. "Hey. Something's eating at you. What's up, kid?"

She hadn't realized she wasn't hiding her gloomy thoughts well enough. "Uuugh, I want you to meet my friends, but this morning Grunkle Ford said I still can't invite them over even though you're off death row. I guess he and Grunkle Stan are still worried you'll brainwash them or something?"

"Pff. We're still—renegotiating the terms of my imprisonment."

"Oh yeah? What have you renegotiated so far?"

The corners of Bill's mouth turned down. Mabel suspected that might have something to do with his foul mood. "Hey, I've got an idea to get your friends over here."

"Yeah?"

"Tell your uncles that the girls' parents are starting to wonder why you haven't been inviting them over like you did last summer. Say they're beginning to think that something is going on over here, and they're worried you're not in a safe environment—buuut if their kids can come over and see everyone's just been adjusting to a new guest, maaaybe their parents will calm down, right?"

Mabel shot Bill a dirty look. "Bill! That's a complete lie."

"But it's the kind of lie that could easily be true, and might even be true in the future, so is it really a lie?"

"Yeah it is."

"No it's not! Besides, it'll get your friends over here and it won't hurt anything, won't it?"

Mabel grimaced. "Okay, I can try—but if I try it and it works and I bring my friends over, you've got to make friends with them."

"Hmm!" Bill's face twisted up. "I like Candy's taste in art. And her bloodthirst."

Mabel elbowed him. "What do you have against Grenda?"

####

Eight-year-old Grenda sat at her desk kicking her feet and staring at her $1 bill, waiting for the bell to ring for lunch. It was Chocolate Chip Cookie Monday, they were fresh and gooey, and she was ready.

For the first time, she noticed the design on the dollar had a weird little one-eyed triangle with a hat. She pulled out a marker and drew a little smile under his eye.

And then she added buck teeth to the smile.

And then she gave him a second eye, stupid glasses, and a spiky beard that poked out in every direction.

And then drew wavy stink lines over him and added a word bubble that said "I'M SMELLY!"

"Heh. Stupid looking guy," she mumbled.

####

With an air of haughty disdain, Bill said, "She knows what she did."

"Okay, but you'll be nice to her, right? Pleeease?"

"All right, fine," Bill said. "For you, I'll be nice."

####

"Grunkle Stannn can my friends please come over? Even their parents think it's weird that they haven't been here all summer! If Grenda and Candy come over they'll know nothing weird's going on!"

"Uhhh..." Stan grimaced. "The last thing we need is parents asking questions... Yeah, sure, you should probably do that sometime soon. Maybe after we figure out what we're doing with Bill for the rest of the summer—"

"Thanks!" Mabel hugged him, ran off, and decided she'd heard Stan say "yeah, sure, you should."

She pulled out her phone. "Candy! Grenda!" She kept her voice at a loud whisper. "Great news! Dipper's gonna be out with Grunkle Ford tonight and I kinda-sorta got permission for a sleepover! Get ready for a party. I have a plan."

####

(This is a bit of a transition chapter for a couple more plots, but I hope y'all enjoyed! Let me know what you think!)

[showstopper35]

the human form (bill cipher nsfw!)

a/n: don’t ask me why I wrote this. I’m losing all self control. may draw at least my bill design later. This could be an x reader or you could pretend it's Ford.

notes/cw: NSFW!! SMUT! oral sex, handjob, cumplay. reader is gn. unfortunately I am a subscriber to Twinkish Bill Cipher, so there’s that.

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"How many holes do you have?" a familiar, grating voice asks as I am buried in a book.

"Excuse me?" I ask, peering at Bill's floating form over the top of my book.

"Holes. You." He points.

"Well, there's my mouth, ears, nose...that's five." I say slowly. "Do tear ducts count?"

"Yes. Seven, so far. But aren't there more holes down there?" He points to my lower region.

"Um..yes. Two or three, depending on the body." I say quietly. "For waste and for...um.."

"Cum?" he asks innocently.

"Yeah. That." I choke. Surprised he knows what that is, considering he refers to humans as "meat sacks".

"What's cum like? Is it yellow too?" he asks, sitting down in the air and crossing his legs.

"No...it's usually white and clear-ish. Why are you asking about...this?" I say tentatively.

"I want to experience more with my human form. You know, like, pain, but also pleasure. It'll help me understand how to manipulate you freaks better. " he muses, smirking somehow without a mouth.

"Oh. I guess that makes sense. Well, you could try...um..making that with your human form, I guess. If you wanted to." I had no idea where this conversation was going.

"How?" comes the new question, making me nearly blush. For all the weird shit he says, talking about sex was somehow weirder.

"You know where your dick is?" I ask. He nods. "You...can stroke it yourself. Or have someone stroke it for you if they want. Or they can use their mouth, or you can put it into someone else's...holes...and pump it until you cum." My voice progressively got quieter and more flustered as I explained to him all the different ways people came. He seemed to get gradually more excited as I went on.

With a flash of blue light, he transformed into his familiar human design. Gangly limbs, crooked mischievous smile, triangular eyepatch, and messy cowlicked hair. He immediately unzips his black pants.

"Woa! Woa! I'm right here!" I startle out of my seat, averting my gaze as he starts pulling on the waistband of his yellow boxers.

"I know. You're gonna help me." He states simply. He reaches over and loosely grabs my wrist. I jerk back, face flushed.

"Absolutely not! I'm not touching you." I all but scream.

"Please? Please? If you do this, I'll give you a small breakthrough in your research. I know you want it." His grip around my wrists tightens--a threat. I stall, a frown on my face.

"Fine." I say, before I can properly regret it.

"Really?" He lets go of my wrist, smiling.

"Just...just quickly. And you better keep your end of the deal."

He waves me away, already slipping into my chair. He points to the ground, and I slowly slide to my knees, my face between his thighs. He slowly pulls his length out of his boxers. His dick is relatively skinny, like the rest of him, but he definitely gave himself a generous length when designing this body.

"Are...you sure about this?" I ask, soft. He nods, watching me with intense fascination and almost greed. With that permission, I gently wrap a hand around the hilt of his length, slowly stroking up and down. He instantly flinches against my touch, and I can tell by his tension that it takes a lot for him to not pull away.

"Just tell me if you want to stop." I whisper, before kissing the top of his dick. I lick the beads of precum, a slight smile forming at my lips at its salty taste and the shiver that went up through his body. I place my whole lips around the head, sucking down and up in slow motions. I enjoy Bill's trembling, especially when he briefly closes his eyes.

I suck more, licking a thick stripe along the bottom of his cock, enjoying the soft whimper that escaped his mouth. He looked away, visibly embarrassed, but he runs a hand through my hair before tugging on it.

"Enjoying this?" I murmur, kissing the side of his dick. He just growled in response, his long, serpentine tongue flicking out between his lips. I feel his thighs twitch, shuddering. He's probably close.

I pump my hand around his cock harder, nearly choking as I try to fit more of it into my mouth with each suck. I go faster and faster, tears pricking at the edges of my vision. Finally, with a violent jerk, his hips buck into my face and he yanks on my hair so hard I whine. A nearly painful shudder runs through his thighs as hot cum spills into my mouth. I pull back, letting it drip onto my chin.

Slowly, still twitching, he reaches down to me and swipes at the cum on my chin, sticking his fingers into his mouth. "Salty." he comments, though it doesn't look like he hates it. He then wipes the rest of it onto my neck.

"Well? How was it?" I ask, touching his dick once again to cover my hand in cum. He takes my wrist and licks my palm, then presses my hand to his chest.

"I...I liked it. I see why it makes you ugly freaks go crazy." He sighs, leaning back, licking more of my fingers and ruffling my hair with his other hand.

"I'm glad. We aren't all bad, hmm?" I laugh, kissing his cock once more before standing up.

"No...not all bad."

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[matrixbearer2024]

Cruel

[Mr Bill Pines AU: Bill Cipher-Pines x Clifford(Stanford Reincarnation)]

Bill misses his husband and he can’t decide at the moment if this was Karma or just another mistake he’d walked into. Fate could be very kind, but it could also be a very cruel thing.

Inspired by a comic from @honeqq and I decided why not write something related to it! I need to write more stuff for them PLEASE-

Bill had to steel himself once more at the familiar chime summoning him again. He already knew who it was and had a few theories about the reason behind it. The real problem was that he didn’t know if he could take it anymore; each moment felt like a deep cut, with wounds left to fester as his heart battled his mind, tearing apart any semblance of sanity.

He had to mentally prepare himself for every encounter with the lookalike of his deceased husband, the imitation of a man to whom he had once given everything. Just being there was painful—the same voice, the same face, the similar mutation…

But he wasn’t the same man.

Taking a deep breath, Bill stepped in front of the impatient artist, who regarded him with mild annoyance. The artist was blissfully unaware of the constant struggle the god faced just to maintain a decent appearance. For some reason, Bill didn’t dare to explain this to him; it made it easier… sort of.

“Oh, finally. I was beginning to think you weren’t going to show.”

Bill mused that someone must be pulling a sadistic prank, repeatedly putting him in this situation where every waking moment threatened to unleash the flood of emotions and grief once more. This man wasn’t the genius he had once loved. This guy wasn’t Sixer, no matter how similar they looked.

“Yeah, yeah, I’d call you ‘lucky’ number seven, but you’ve just been annoying. Of all the cosmic beings to seek guidance from, you’d think you’d pick one that hasn’t faded into obscurity.”

“You were the muse for this journal’s author, so I thought you’d be able to help me in some way, somehow. I think.”

At the mention of the journal, Bill wanted to shrivel up and die. It was the only one he hadn’t had a hand in writing. The others he had co-authored with his husband, but this one… this one had eluded him for so long, only to be found by… this guy.

He wanted to bash his skull in and scream.

Stanford was gone; that pill had been hard enough to swallow a thousand years ago. Fate just had to rub salt into that open wound. This whole situation was cruel.

“What’s the problem this time?”

“I can’t decide what I want to paint.”

The empty canvas the other man gestured to seemed to beckon him, the stark white void drawing him in and holding him in a vice grip. The triangle stared blankly at the vacant space; an idea flickered to life in his mind, but he hesitated to indulge it. What if he did? It would only unleash another wave of grief, a haunting reminder of what once was and what he had lost to the relentless claws of time and the cold hands of death.

Bill already knew this was going to be idiotic. He felt it in his bones—he was about to make yet another stupidly ridiculous choice. Yet, before he could stop himself, the words tumbled out. Regret settled in immediately after he spoke.

“How about this? What if you painted someone for me? A portrait.”

The reincarnation regarded him with curiosity and interest, and Bill felt an overwhelming urge to gouge out his lone eye at the sight. Don’t look at him like that. Don’t give him the same expression that once held so much love and adoration, the kind that had nearly drowned him. Don’t remind him of those memories. Don’t drive the knife in deeper.

“Sure, I don’t see why not.”

That was the amusement that haunted him: the ghost of a man he had once loved to his own detriment. Someone whose smile caused the edges of his eyes to crinkle with unbridled joy, someone whose gaze never wavered in love and adoration. It was a ticking time bomb to have chosen and loved a mortal; inevitable goodbyes lurked around every corner of his finite life. There was no telling how much time they had left together, yet Bill still felt like Stanford was taken from him far too soon.

What he would have given for just a little more time—one last kiss, one final “I love you.”

He was a god, yet he would have surrendered absolutely everything for just another moment with the man he once called a husband. His equal. His muse.

Bill had to turn away from the other man, feeling tears welling up in his eyes. He quickly blinked them back; after a thousand years, the grief was still overwhelming. It felt like just yesterday he had been in the arms of his lover, and now that love and comfort were nowhere to be found. The ache in his heart throbbed and pounded, emotions turning him soft. What a useless god he’d become. What was once a pleasant feeling had morphed into crippling sorrow.

“If you don’t mind me asking, though… who is it that you want me to paint?”

That was a loaded question, burdened by the lament and grief of a thousand years—a love lost to the hands of time and the embrace of death. The one plane of existence where Bill couldn’t follow. Not as he was. Not when he didn’t have the ability to die. The sickness of an immortal, truly.

“Someone important to me. My muse.”

“You have a muse? Wow. They must be someone incredible.”

Bill could only let out an empty laugh. Stanford was incredible—more than he could ever dare to articulate. Words simply wouldn’t do the man justice; to have a god fall to his knees out of love was an immeasurable feat. The triangle always believed his lover was a force to be reckoned with, a powerhouse and then some. Yet, the relentless sands of time eventually wore him down. Even Stanford's brilliant mind, which had endured so much, couldn’t escape the inevitable; the grim reaper came to collect his dues.

No mortal was spared from that fate.

“Yeah. He was .”

The pain that bled through the triangle’s voice didn’t go unnoticed by the artist, despite his attempts to conceal it. However, the artist chose not to mention it, believing it was best not to pry. After all, it wasn’t his place to interfere; why would he?

Bill cleared his throat and floated up to get a better look at the empty canvas. Every instruction was clear and concise, every requested stroke of the brush executed with intention and purpose. The triangle’s close guidance and precise descriptions of each detail left no room for error; there were simply no mistakes.

As the painting began to take shape, colors and pigments blended seamlessly, crafting an image clearer than crystal. Gradually, the likeness of a man emerged—one with silver hair and a gentle gaze, complemented by a smile that reached his eyes, eyes that radiated immense love and adoration. It was evident that the painting captured an intensely intimate moment; such an expression was not meant for just anyone. Only someone so deeply loved and cherished could inspire a face like that. Only someone who felt eternally young could carry the weight of age with the wonder and joy of a child. The painting became a living juxtaposition.

The artist dropped his paintbrush in surprise; the painting looked so… alive. Under Bill’s guidance, this project had transformed into one of his best works. He couldn't help but wonder if its resemblance to a self-portrait was purely coincidental—an unnerving mirror he had created hour after hour, stroke after stroke, with immense specificity from the triangle beside him. However, the longing gaze from Bill toward the smiling subject made things clear. That action alone spoke more truth than any words they had ever exchanged. Yet, despite the painstaking effort poured into this piece, his eyes were inevitably drawn back to the final product.

It felt… familiar somehow, as if he knew this man, perhaps having met him somewhere before, despite the artist's certainty that he never had.

What was this sense of déjà vu?

The painting was beautifully crafted, distinctly unreplicable, particularly within the eyes of this man, which overflowed with mirth and fondness that clearly belonged to a lover. The expression he wore embodied the true essence of being loved, the purest depiction of happiness.

How had Bill even known about this? Not to mention in such explicit detail…

“Bill—”

“You have your painting, I need some time to think.”

The triangle’s voice trembled with overwhelming emotion, cracking under the weight of his grief. He couldn’t bear to look at the painting any longer. He turned away, unable to face either the finished work or the living, breathing human who looked so painfully similar to the man immortalised in the portrait. Every glance at the painting drove the knife in his chest deeper.

He had been right—this was a stupid idea.

“Just summon me again when you need me,” 

Bill muttered, his voice barely holding together. And with that, the god vanished before the artist could even respond.

Back in his original resting place, hot tears spilled from his lone eye as the grief he’d kept buried for so long finally poured out. The triangle broke down into uncontrollable sobs, curling up against a nearby wall, shivering as anguish consumed him. An agonised scream tore from his chest, shaking the very room. It was a miracle he had managed to stay composed for as long as he had.

Maybe he had wanted to see Stanford again—wanted to remember a happier time, to recall a memory frozen in place. The face of his husband, the man he had loved so deeply. But that love was now buried beneath a thousand years of pain and loss, an ache that had festered beyond measure.

Bill Cipher couldn’t move. He stayed there, weeping through the day, letting the weight of eternity crush him.

If he was truly fated to cross paths with that reincarnation, there was only one truth left.

Fate was just so cruel.

Fic is here as well on Ao3!

[spyeriasecret]

and now it's time to play WOULD GRAVITY FALLS CHARACTERS RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS (pre-weirdmageddon) (non gravity falls fans take this as a sign.)

DIPPER PINES - not sure he'd understand the concept immediately, but would catch on quick because he understands what it's like not being called something you want to be called

MABEL PINES - YES. no question about it. there's so many things i could say here. she'd correct herself for THINKING the wrong pronouns.

STANLEY PINES - understands and correctly genders you for all the wrong, crime-related reasons! bro is the king of preferred names. you say "hey i'm actually exam/ple" and he'll be like "AH. I GET IT. WINK. DO YOU ALSO WANT TO BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE COPS ARE IN TOWN" like i cant overstate this. if you say hey i want to change my identity he will pull out a stack of fake IDs and have you pick one. he's a little confused but he got the spirit!

STANFORD PINES - if you ever need a guy to not grasp a modern-day concept, call this guy! he'd do his best, but only because he wants to be nice. he does Not understand. give him a little bit of systematic exposure and he'll get it! he will take a scientific approach! but he'll get it! somebody get this man 2024ccs of woke liberalism stat

SOOS RAMIREZ - calls you dude and bro. does not call you anything but dude and bro. he knows what you are and he respects that! but let's be real honest here.

WENDY CORDUROY - incredibly supportive and super chill. if you were still in the closet, she'd do the mouth zip motion thing. you get it. she's so awesome about you

WADDLES - oink?

GIDEON GLEEFUL - yes to your face! no behind closed doors. he'd probably call you "that queer" while villain monologuing in his room . i can hear it in his voice

BUD GLEEFUL - THE gravity falls homophobic youth pastor let's be for real he'd say "it's not too late to turn to God" as a christian trans person i'm pretty sure God thinks about lgbtq+ kids and fraudulent capitalists on two separate ends of a very long line

SHERIFF BLUBS & DEPUTY DURLAND - do i even have to say it. i'm gonna say it. solid top and DEAD SERIOUS bottom. they ARE the loud and proud gravity falls lgbtq+ community. if they're transphobic i'll eat my socks.

CANDY CHIU - i know what you guys are thinking . "oh candy's so sweet of course she'd respect your pronouns!" CANDY MOTHERFUCKING CHIU WILL NOT ONLY RESPECT YOUR PRONOUNS, BUT SHE WILL GO OUT OF HER WAY TO USE THEM AT ANY POSSIBLE MOMENT. if she sees somewhere to say your pronouns, she will DO it. because she LOVES YOU. and also she'd fight anyone who gets it wrong!

GRENDA GRENDINATOR - trans. she loves you. will help candy fight anybody who gets your pronouns wrong.

FIDDLEFORD MCGUCKET - honestly this is a hard one. he could ACKNOWLEDGE! your pronouns! but other than that i'm not sure. pre-memory wipe, i think he'd feel a little weird about it, but it would become nothing to him eventually

PACIFICA NORTHWEST - "ew. what the fuck." and then suddenly she's asking you how you figured that out. For No Reason

ROBBIE VALENTINO - calls you a faggot. is it because he is homophobic? because he is one? because he hates you specifically? the world will never know

BLENDIN BLANDIN - he lives in the year 207̃012. i find it hard to believe they haven't made respecting pronouns mandatory yet.

AGENTS POWERS & TRIGGER - are the pronouns on your legal documents????? it's not funny stop laughign

TYLER CUTEBIKER - gay. his pronouns are get/it. he will respect you (in his own ways)

LAZY SUSAN - forgets you had the wrong pronouns in the first place. she respects you by default

TIME BABY - does not refer to you

BILL CIPHER - he would call you your preferred pronouns but DON'T get it twisted. he does not respect you as a living thing. it isn't bigoted (that would be ironic considering that whole sixer thing) he just doesn't. maybe he'd make HEAVY fun of you for good measure but he's got to dig at somebody somehow. also were pronouns even real in his dimension anything could happen man ????

SHMEBULOCK - shmebulock

(did i forget anybody? let me know)

[jinxthequeergirl]

omg yay!! so glad i can request you some billy cuz i love him sooo much… yeah, and also: if you don't want to write this it’s okay, but then please reply to this post somehow because damn otherwise i end up waiting like a hachiko😔

how about bill and reader had a deal but eventually their interactions developed into some kind of relationship (?). i don't know, in short bill became very attached to the reader but something happened and they had a fight which cancelled the deal.

time passed and bill still couldn't forget reader. and now, already being in a mental hospital, bill is sitting in general therapy in a circle with everyone else, with an empty look at the floor "i don't want to be here, they made me" in his eyes, and then suddenly one of the therapists says: "so, i want to introduce you to a new patient: y/n!"

bill, hearing this name, is shocked because how did this even happen, and the reader just smiled

ps english is not my first language i'm writing this by translation sorry for mistakes, i love you💘

The Multi-Dimensional break up

Bill chiper x Interdemensinal being!reader

Here, take this while i work on Part 8!

Picture bill however you want to in this I left him vague for a reason (I personally go for the unconventional twink cipher)

Warning: none, it's short

~~~~~~~~~☆~~~~~~~~

Sure, Ford was interesting enough, but YOU were far more interesting. He remembered helping Ford with the portal, watching him fo test runs only to pull you out.

Ford was instantly fascinated with you, running tests interagating you, you happily answered, glad to talk to someone new, and you gladly accepted when offered to help with the portal reaserch.

That's when he'd introduce you to Bill, his other interdimensinal friend helping him. You two bonded quickly, and you shared how similar your dimensions were as well as how vastly different they were.

What he liked most of all about you was how he could talk to you about things others usually didn't get, not his parents in his home dimension, not ford...no one.

"You were only a child... That must've been hard." You admit to him after he opened up to you on a whim about his past, about seeing past his dimensions, about what he did...who he lost.

"It...it's was! But look at me now! Look at all the power I have because of it!" You gave him a sideways look.

"But are you happy?..." He stared at you.

No one's ever asked him that before.

"I understand what you did...I was given a similar chance to yours...but before I made my choice I stopped to think about everyone I held dear to me, I thought about everyone else and who they held dear to themselves...and most of all I thought about myself...would this really make me happy in the long run? If I lost everything, would I care if it was replaced with what I'm being offered?"

Bill stared at you once again. A strange sinking feeling he'd only ever felt once before in his life. "What did you do?"

"Well...to put it simply my home dimension is thriving! They all lived and still lived happily...in the end, I knew if I was willing to do something like that, I could risk it all just like that, then I was the one who needed to leave."

You weren't exactly the type of being he surrounded himself with. You were....well adjusted, to say the least. He kept you around.

He grew attached to you, basically at the hip. He liked that for some reason in a sea of crazy, horrific, and terrifying things you were very calm and collected. Though you did end up sharing his affinity for all those things, giving him a good evil idea in the most calm manner he'd ever seen.

But like before in his home dimension, he began to crave more. Working with you and Ford to get the portal up and running only made him desire it tenfold. He had a vision and with you in it.

So, who better to ask for help bleed into Fords reality and take over then you. Though he didn't tell you the whole plan or truth as to what the plan held in store for everyone.

"Would it make you happy?" He felt his eye twitch. Not a question he thought you'd ask.

"If it does?" You finally looked up at him from what you were fiddling with. "If you came to me right now asking me to do this and you were a million percent positive, it would make you happy... I would say ok."

"Really? Why?"

"You should have some happiness to if I could help achieve that I would love nothing more."

"Then it's a deal."

You shook his hand.

He beamed at you, worried a moment that you would give him a long speech about doing the right thing. True that you enjoyed the bits of chaos he would sprinkle about and even partake in them. But you also had a bit of a moral Compass. It never seemed to stop you from having fun with him, and to him it didn't seem like it stopped him from his fun when you thought other wise.

But it did. You not partaking with him felt wrong. You'd become his right hand in everything. Usually, if you rode a high horse, suddenly he was too.

However, you were hell-bent on helping him with this, that was until you realized what he was doing and trying to do to Ford.

You stopped helping him immediately.

"You lied to me! You didn't tell me this was your plan! Another dimension you can treat, like your home dimension?" Bill was taken aback for a moment. And hurt that you would compare what he was doing now to what he did in the past.

"Are you seriously going to do this? To Ford!?"

"Hey! We had a deal remember!"

"You purposely left information out you tricked me!"

Bill realized he'd never seen you angry in the years he'd gotten to know you. Seeing you now almost made him hesitate, almost.

"The deal is off! And I'm going to tell Ford about your plan."

"Not so fast!" You froze in place your whole body feeling over and turning to gold. "Bill wait! Wait! Don't do this! We can talk this out!"

"I don't think so...you and no one else in any dimension is going to stop me!"

"Bill Cipher, I swear I will -"

He winced, waiting for the rest of your sentence that never came, your face permanently frozen in distorted anger. This is what he wanted, right? He wanted out of the nightmare dimension. He wanted complete and utter chaos in the real world. He was sure of it only a moment ago.

Then why did he feel so bad.

He stared at your face solid gold and gleaming now.

"Are you happy?"

He shook your voice from his head.

"You'll see y/n! I'm going to Rule this dimension and you'll regret not joining me!" He said trying to gain back his confidence.

He could.

Not when you where looking at him like that.

So he possessed Fords body, tossed you threw the still finicky portal and forgot about you.

Tried to forget about you.

Every day, something new would come up, and he would still be ready to tell you, still wake up, ready to spend his time with you.

Who knew how lonely he really was until Ford dragged you out of that portal all those years ago.

He thought about you now most of all, staring up at the ceiling in his interdemensinal cell.

He wondered if he would have beaten the Pines family if you were by his side. He wandered if he would have even gone through with weirdmagedon if you were by his side.

He truly just missed you. He regretted throwing you away like you weren't everything to him. He hoped you would eventually forgive him if you ever crossed paths or if you were even unfrozen.

He avoided bringing you up now that he was in mandatory therapy. Anytime he felt he might mention you, he paused and steered the conversation away as best he could.

"Welcome, everyone. Let's settle down."

Bill sighed, slumping into his chair. Bracing himself for yet another group therapy session.

"Before we get started, I'd like to welcome a new member to the group." He rolled his eye while the other members erupted in chatter.

"Settle down, everyone, please welcome y/n."

Bill felt his heart stop, and the air leave his lungs.

Low and behold you scanned the room looking for an open seat, you sat across from him locking eyes with him for a moment.

"I like your scar" You mouthed.

He stared at you jaw on the floor.

"How?" He asked all you did was smile before the mediators spoke up again.

"Alright, everyone, let's begin."

[darlingdaisyfarm]

im so sorry, i don’t even know how to explain myself at this point, consider this my apology for all the filthy nonsense i post here

so, this is a lil bonus to this post

nsfw (not really, but mentions of sex)

Ford is dead. Not literally (you check his pulse just to be sure), but emotionally and physically, this man has perished. Such a beautiful ruined mess underneath you, he’s sprawled out like a crime scene chalk outline, drenched in sweat, staring blankly at the ceiling as if questioning all his life choices.

But you’re not doing much better. Your legs shaking so much you can barely sit up, whole body feels like jelly and your brain isn’t working either. Somehow, you manage to flop next to Ford, throwing a limp arm over his scarred chest.

“Bravo, folks!” Bill exclaims. “what a show! Truly the pinnacle of human endurance and stamina! Sixer, gotta say, i missed seeing you like this, ah, the good old days!”

Ford groans faintly. “I hate you. . .”

“You’re so mean,” you mutter at Bill, glaring up at him with half-lidded eyes. “why’d you even join in? That’s not what we agreed on.”

The moment these words leave your mouth, you know you’ve fucked up. Ford’s body stiffens under your arm as his exhausted brain cells rapidly recalculating everything.

“What— what did you just say?” although his voice is hoarse from all sounds he made earlier, you still catch a note of seriousness in it. His head turns toward you in slow motion, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What do you mean. . . agreed on?”

You panic. “Wait, I mean, uh—”

“Oh, let me tell him!” Bill interrupts. “she’s talking about the little deal we made! you know, where I said, ‘hey, doll, wanna fuck your dusty old man to death?’ and she said, ‘of course, Bill, but no creepy tendrils, okay?’”

Ford looks like he’s been hit by a bus. “WHAT?”

You swear you feel yourself sweat from panic and embarrassment as you look at Bill in pure fear. “I thought you’d just watch! Not—”

Demon cuts you off with a laugh. “Oh, sure, you thought! And by the way, Sixer? these pathetic, desperate little whimpers, ugh, they’ll echo in my mind for eternity! I’ve waited so long to see you like that. A helpless, sloppy mess, both of you, my little huma—”

Ford's face flushes with either shame or anger, and you think he’s going to explode. But no. He pushes himself up, pushes himself up, the madman, and throws the sheet off in anger.

But Bill keeps. “I mean, you came so hard I’m surprised you didn’t pass out after the first round, old ma—”

Ford looks at that demonic creature. “That’s it. That’s it, Cipher, you’ve gone too far this time.”

You barely manage a “Ford, wait—” as he pulls on his boxers with surprising speed for a man who five seconds ago looked like he was on the brink of death.

“I’ll make you pay for this,” Ford declares dramatically. “Mark my words, Cipher, I’ll find a way to make you regret ever stepping into my house again.”

Both you and Bill fall silent, watching Ford’s boxers riding low on his hips as he marches out of the bedroom.

You watch your Ford walk away, eyes wide with panic, realising what just happened, but then your gaze goes lower. At that tattoo.

Flirty Gal.

Bill floats beside you, narrowing his single eye slyly. “I know what you’re looking at, doll.”

You glare at him, exhausted and annoyed. “I hate you.”

Cipher’s gaze flicks to the doorway Ford just walked through. “hate me all you want, but you've got good taste. Sixer's got a hell of an ass for an old man.”

“STOP TALKING.”

[crystalandrose]

So my idea for my version of evil ford is that his timeline splits at the science fair incident. This ford was paranoid enough to know stanley would somehow fuck up his chance, so he fixes the machine and takes the toffee peanut bag as evidence (maybe he also pulls security footage). So ford makes it into his college and stan gets punished (but not kicked out). Stanley runs away of his own volition due to the anger at ford leaving him behind and also ratting him out to their parents. Stan partly wants to prove hes just as good as his brother and also wants to prove it to himself.

This means Ford never met Fiddleford in college. Instead, after getting a lot more grant money than from Backupsmore, he goes to Gravity Falls and works alone. Eventually, after he makes the deal with bill, he realizes he doesnt have enough experience making computer things (sourcing parts and such) to do this alone (even if bill is helping him). So he puts an ad for a research assistant good with computers. Perhaps some of this extra grant money went towards pay, and Fiddleford took the opportunity. But having no real connection to Fiddleford, Ford is more up to use him as a tool to get what he wants. So when Bill says his use is up and its time to get rid of him, Ford obliges.

Maybe since he went to this fancy college he had an easier time making connections or doing schooling quicker. So this extra time means he spends more time in partnership with bill and the connections make it easier for him to make side money he can also funnel into the portal project.

This Ford also learns more about Bill's backstory because he connects more to Bill (disconnect from family, not feeling recognized, wanting a home with people that get him/etc). So this guy is more sympathetic and knows more about Bill's desires (create a nightmare realm). Maybe Ford rationalizes it as a good thing or thinks he can talk Bill out of some destruction, or maybe at this point he wants some revenge on the world himself. So hes still on board with the portal when Bill reveals its actual purpose.

However, maybe Stanley needs another place to sleep on the couch at and sees his brother in some headline or mentioned as an inventor for some product. Or his brother needs a test dummy that can speak for the portal so he calls him. Or maybe Ford wants to potentially say his last goodbyes before he goes into what he knows is potentially the end of earth.

Fight still happens, Ford wants Stanley to thank him for money hes sent the family, for not completely ostracizing him from the family after what he did, offering him a place to stay, idk. Ford fights him, Bill possesses Ford at some point as another try to prevent Ford from getting sucked into the portal. This freaks Stan out and he pushes him. Ford, holding journal 3 (which does not have pages ripped out), chucks it at stans head (not to help him but to literally hurt him). Stan is like "wtf did i just do" and shuts the portal down, reads through the journals and thinks Ford is unwillingly possessed by a demon and spends his days trying to get him back.

Ford and Bill are now stuck in the portal, going through dimensions trying to get back to Earth in order to reopen the portal and finish what they started. I think Stan is fully anti-cipher-ified, planning on killing bill as soon as he shows up again in order to save his brother. Im thinking this Dipper and Mabel got killed by zombies or something. So when Ford does get back, stan is there super unhinged and angry and somehow eventually kills bill, leaving no statue behind. Evil ford is like "wtf" and devastated, but keeps looking for a way to bring him back. Maybe this Bill, having not gained sympathy from the axolotl, decides hes not worth rehabilitation and so hes actually dead in this reality.

(Then "canon" bill opens up a reality rift and evil ford comes through, hoorah)

[oikoraart]

I might explode if I don't share this, so here goes an unhinged rant/theory that has to do with the Book of Bill. brace yourself!!

ALRIGHT SO background: yesterday I read a post talking about Silas Birchtree being one of the best iterations of "Bill using a human body as a flesh puppet" (agreed), and somewhere (I can't recall if it was op or a comment I'm sorry) there was this joke about Bill having a thing for people with tree surnames. and I was like haha funny yeah, and then moved on with my day.

but NOW IT HIT ME.

IT'S NOT SIMPLY TREES, OR LIKE, ANY KIND OF TREE.

HE FIRST WENT FOR A GUY WITH THE SURNAME BIRCHTREE. BIRCH. YOU KNOW, THAT WHITE TREE THAT LOOKS LIKE IT HAS EYES ALL OVER???

AND THEN, OH THEN HE WENT FOR PINES. A PRETTY TRIANGULAR-LOOKING TREE IF YOU ASK ME.

AND- OKAY I'M PROBABLY JUST REACHING HERE BUT HEAR ME OUT.

DOES HE,, DOES HE HAVE SOME SORT OF STRONGER INFLUENCE/PULL TOWARDS THINGS THAT SOMEWHAT RELATE TO HIM?? (not really sure why he'd go for trees* twice but- TRIANGLES, EYE(S), BILLS?, CIPHERS)

AND YOU MIGHT BE THINKING "nah he's just that badly egotistical, he picks like that on purpose" AND AT FIRST I WAS ALSO GOING TO JUST SIT WITH THAT CONCLUSION (and not write this post) BUT LIKE ACTUALLY NO THAT'S NOT IT.

BECAUSE alright let's say for the sake of argument that Bill could've had anyone else with a big brain and self-esteem issues construct his portal (debatable) and he just happened to choose Ford because "ehehe surname relating to me and birth defect too"...

BUT HOW DO YOU EXPLAIN SILAS???

THE GUY JUST RANDOMLY DIED. HE CHOKED ON A COIN THAT HE TOSSED AFTER FAILING TO MAKE BUSINESS IN THAT TOWN. JUST THEN DID BILL KICK HIS LITTLE CULT-FOR-PORTAL-CONSTRUCTION PLAN INTO MOTION, WHICH, NO MATTER HOW YOU LOOK AT IT, WAS DESTINED TO FAIL FROM THAT CHOICE ALONE.

HERE it is WAY harder to make the argument that he could've picked anyone from the town because, unless he was planning to fail on purpose, why would he choose a rotting body as a host?? it makes no sense: it puts a time limit to get it all done before the body is completely useless. it doesn't make any sense unless that was his only option. maybe he was already planning on entering the guy's dreams but then he just dropped dead and Bill went "ah shit. well, time to work with what we have, I guess!"

SO! in short, I believe that whoever Bill uses as his puppet/anchor to this world has to meet the requirement of somehow relating to him (his imagery and/or motifs), not just out of preference, but because it's a must, some sort of limitation or arbitrary rule that he has to follow, for him to be able to get to you.

...and personally I think that THAT'S SO COOL AND INTERESTING OMG MR. HIRSCH YOU ARE SUCH A BIG BRAINED MAN-

SO YEAH. I might be going a little insane. perhaps. cheers to that!!

now I have to figure out how/if this rule checks out with Alex Hirsch himself because (canonically? I think?) Bill has controlled him before and (iirc) is implied to still be tethered to him in some way

*the only explanation I can think of for trees would be the fact that [tree -> three -> triangle] but like idk that might be too far. or maybe that's precisely why he can only go for things related to specific trees, like [birch = tree + eyes] and then [pines = tree + triangular shape]. maybe the rule is even more complex than I first thought... hmmm

[rotknox]

Memento Vivere | Cryptic Comforts

Work on AO3 | Work on Wattpad | Masterlist

𝚁𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

The drive home was quiet. The twins were asleep from the sudden adrenaline rush of shopping for clothes, and Bill was wide awake, but he was focused on the afternoon setting. Bill looked over at [Name], his breath catching in his throat. The air was tugging at [Name]'s loose button-up and at his hair as well.

Bill felt his stupid skin mask boil, so he turned away and let out a disgruntled sound. [Name] looked over and smiled. "You okay?" He asked and Bill simply nodded, slightly biting the nail of his thumb. Speaking of nails, damn, his nails were long as shit… Maybe he should ask Mabel to take care of them? What the hell was he thinking? He hated those stupid goddamn twins!

…Maybe…?

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

The shack was quiet. Customers had already left for the day and the only living souls who were left were the staff. Wendy was sitting behind the register with Melody and Soos was cheerfully restocking the shelves.

Ford had come out of the lab, sighing deeply. Wendy looked up from her phone and then looked down again. “Whaddup, Mr. Ford?” She greeted him calmly. Melody looked up and smiled. “Oh hi, Ford! Want something to drink?”

Ford smiled tiredly at both young women. “Hello you two… No thank you, Melody, I’m okay,” Ford reassured her. Wendy looked at him quizzically but shrugged, he was not her business anyways. But, he was a good source of gossip, so…

“Hey, Mr. Ford?” She looked up, Ford looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. “Who’s that blond that’s been hanging around [Name]?”

Ford’s lower lip got caught between his teeth and he looked away. Melody shot a concerned look over to him. “Ford? You okay?”

Soos, who had been ‘minding his business’, immediately appeared beside Ford and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You can tell us anything, Mr. Mister Pines… We are all ears, not literally but y’know,” Soos let out a quick laugh at his own joke.

Ford blinked and awkwardly patted Soos’ hand. “You’re a good manchild, Soos… And I also suppose there is no reason for me to hide this from you all considering you’re all here almost everyday.”

He sighed and sat up straight. “When Stanley killed Bill in his mind, Bill managed to somehow transfer his form to an area outside of time and space. He was taken into a facility known as the Theraprism and a rehabilitation process was initiated. However, he began to get worse… Psychotic outbursts, ramblings, violent tendencies, you name it. Point is, the doctor in charge of him thought it was best to send him here and live life as a human. He has no powers whatsoever and it seems he’s not exactly… himself.”

Wendy blinked and narrowed her eyes. “So, the blond is Bill Cipher? Huh, I imagined he’d be more…” She seemed to struggle to find the correct words, that’s when Soos piped in. “Flashy? Loud? Psycho-crazy?”

Wendy stared at Soos and shrugged. “I guess. But, he’s powerless, right? I doubt we should be worried about him,” She said and looked at Ford. Ford blinked in surprise and looked at her with a perplexed expression. “You too?”

The teen stared at him with a tiny frown. “What did I do, man?”

Ford abruptly stood up. “I think I have to re-evaluate a few things… If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my lab,” He swiftly left the room and left everyone slightly puzzled. Soos was the first to speak up. “Welp! Time to get back to restocking!”

The door swung open and in walked an exhausted Bill holding a bunch of bags. After him, [Name] walked in holding both twins, he seemed tired too. “Hey, guys…” [Name] yawned.

Bill almost tripped from how tired he was until [Name] hooked an arm around him. Bill gasped and looked back. “I-Idiot! The ki…”

He noticed [Name] had maneuvered the twins so he had a free arm, a free arm to catch Bill and ONLY Bill…

Goodness, consider him flustered.

Bill gulped back his words and looked away, [Name] smiled and pulled Bill so he’d stand up straight. “You okay? Wanna take a nap?” [Name] asked him and Bill stared at him. “No comfortable bed, remember?”

[Name] let out a soft ‘oh’ before turning to Melody. “Hey, Lody? Can you put these two to bed?” He asked and Melody nodded with a smile. “Sure!”

She took the twins from the taller man and walked upstairs to the attic. [Name] looked over at Soos. "Hey, Soos? Do you still have that old metal bed frame from your past house?”, he asked and Soos nodded. "Oh totally, dude! It’s in the storage room in the attic!”

[Name] nodded. "C’mon, Bill!” Bill had no time to answer before he was yanked upstairs. What the hell was with these men and yanking him around?!

They made their way upstairs and into Bill’s bedroom. [Name] went off to go get the bed frame while Bill got himself preoccupied by unpacking things that he had bought. He was more interested in what the kids had gotten.

He dug into the bag and took out a random piece of clothing. He inspected what looked to be mom jeans? He recalled seeing some women in Ford’s time using these. He put the pants aside and took out another piece, this time a colorful off-the shoulder sweater top. Looking in the bag, it was clear to see what twin bought what, Mabel got him a bunch of colorful 80’s inspired clothes while Dipper got him things like suits and whatnot.

He was startled out of his fleshy exoskeleton by the sound of metal scraping against the floor. Bill snapped his head back to see [Name] breathing lightly, he looked at him with his eyebrows raised. "…Isn’t that heavy?”

[Name] laughed a bit. "Nah, it’s easy when you’re used to carrying heavy things.”

As [Name] turned around, Bill took the chance to shamelessly check his build out. He was a perfect balance of strong and soft… Nice.

Before Bill knew it, [Name] had already set up his bed AND his sheets. Bill felt himself fawn harder, if that was even possible.

“Here, all done!” [Name] smiled wide and sighed softly. "Like it?” [Name] asked him as he wiped some sweat off his brow. Bill looked up at his face and nodded, biting the inside of his lip. “Yeah, I love it.”

[Name] exhaled and stood up with a pleased expression on his face. His eyes traced over Bill’s features for a bit before they settled on the other man’s eye. “Need help decorating?”

Bill’s eye widened and he stumbled on his words in his mind for a little, but he eventually decided to answer. “Sure… I could use a hand or two,” Bill nodded as he took out everything he had bought.

And so it began.

Bill couldn’t recall the last time he had enjoyed someone else’s presence this much. Being around [Name] brought him a large amount of joy that he couldn’t verbally describe, it was the type of joy that made his ribs feel like they were vibrating and made his heart seem queasy.

It was strange in all honesty, he barely knew this man but it felt like he had known him for decades or more. Bill couldn’t help but gaze at [Name] as he put the finishing touch on his room, and speaking of…

Bill blinked and realized they had finished. [Name] sighed lightly and stepped back, he let his eyes admire what they had done. He looked over at Bill with a wide smile full of pride. “So? Feel at home yet?”

The demon looked back at [Name] and he nodded eagerly. “Yeah…”

The room was full of antiques and colorful tapestries, it was a far cry from the empty room he had been shoved into the day prior. It was hard to believe he had only spent a day in this house, for it already felt like he had been here since he was a mere baby.

[Name] couldn’t help but admire the room, it was like if vintage bohemian and elegance had a weird little child, and if definitely fit Bill just right.

He looked down at Bill and smiled. “Are you hungry?” He asked. Bill never had hunger in his life, he could thank his lack of organs for that! But now… His stomach-thingy was rioting against him and making noises he thought only Zanthar was capable of producing.

Bill nodded and followed [Name] downstairs.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Stan was sitting with the twins at the dinner table. Both teens had woken up shortly before and were still very groggy.

He heard footsteps descending down the stairs and looked up to see [Name] being followed by a frowning Bill. Stan couldn’t help but raise a brow. “Done already?”

[Name] looked over and smiled. “Yeah! Two pairs of hands work better than one,” the taller male affirmed and handed Bill some crackers. Bill mindlessly munched on the snack and frowned as he stared out the window.

“Oh, by the way, three-sides?” Stan spoke up and Bill looked over with offense. “Soos says you can work here at the Shack,” the old man said, Bill couldn’t help but giggle.

“Me? Why would I need to work in this humble abode?” Bill asked cockily and Stan glared at him. “Wanna keep Gompers warm at night? Then shut your trap and accept Soos’ offer.”

Bill snarled a little at Stan but huffed. “Fine… I’m only accepting just because I’m feeling generous, Stanley,” the blond said and Stan waved him off dismissively.

“Oh, [Name]!!! You won’t be alone with handyman work anymore!” Mabel said cheerfully and [Name] smiled at her. “You’re right, starlight. Trust me, man, this work’s easy as 123 once you get the gist of it,” he added as he turned to look at Bill.

Realization dawned on Bill like a blessing. He could see this man sweaty and worked up… Yeah, he’ll make sure to thank Soos later.

They lingered in the kitchen with everyone before Stan sent the twins off to bed and then went to the living room.

A question had been nagging at Bill since he saw [Name] for the first time ever, and so he turned to look at [Name] before speaking up. “So… How’d you even get this job? It couldn’t have possibly been your first choice.”

The [Eye Color] eyed male just smiled and turned to face Bill. “Well, I came here to Gravity Falls for a graduation project… I quickly realized I had no funds left and my family had a hard time sending money over.”

He sipped his drink before continuing. “So, I started to do some job hunting. I had a lot of experience with services and things like woodwork and pottery due to the fact I helped my parents provide for my siblings, so I looked for jobs that required someone with that expertise. And as if some higher power heard me, I found a flier for this place… They needed a handyman who could also work as a janitor since the last one moved up the ranks. And here we are now…”

Bill was intrigued. This guy certainly was God’s golden boy; handsome, smart, charming and job offers literally fell out of the sky just for him. But something had piqued his interest, so he asked another question. “You helped provide for your siblings? Why?” The blond asked and [Name] smiled. “Low income family in Rhode Island with about five kids.”

That was enough to make Bill understand.

“I’ll make sure to explain it all in further detail some other day. For now, I have to leave,” [Name] said whilst he threw his soda can away and checked his watch. He walked over to Bill and firmly gripped his hand. “Sleep well, Bill.”

Bill’s hand ached for more of that soft touch… He waved goodbye to [Name] and quietly fawned.

“I don’t get what they see in you,” Ford’s voice broke through and Bill scowled. “Of course you don’t,” Bill retorted.

Ford came out of the lab’s doorway and stared Bill down. “Everyone is forgiving you. Wendy, Melody and Soos… Hell, even Stanley is mildly alright with you! What do they see in you, Cipher?!”

Bill stared at him blankly before furrowing his brows. “Maybe they actually have hope in me. Unlike you who only saw me for my brains,” the demon said coldly and Ford’s eyes narrowed. “You did the same.”

Bill shrugged. “Touché.”

The demon swiftly went back upstairs to his room and Ford leaned against the counter. He rubbed his nose bridge and looked out the window, thinking this whole mess over.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

Bill laid in his comfortable bed with his eye set on the ceiling. He could now see why humans like to sleep so much…

He settled his head in his pillows, that’s when he noticed something…

The pillow cases had the lingering scent of [Name]’s cologne.

═════════•°• ⚠ •°•═════════

<- Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 ->

taglist: @cyber-dump-171 @nephalem-da @magicalbunbun @the-ghost-lanturn @dontstartcaringaboutmenow @iamthenumberoneshitgoblinfuckoff

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[musekicker]

Ended up writing this because I couldn't sleep. Set in the Bill wins scenario au. And honestly, more written to try to iron out a look for decorated by Bill, Ford.

Ford's coat had been taken. Perhaps taken wasn't the correct word. More like snapped out of existence. Ford was sad to see it go. It had been a part of his wardrobe for so long. It felt weird to not have it. But Bill taking away something that was a part of Ford's "old" life was not a unusual thing for him to do. What was different was that somehow Bill had gotten it in his mind that Ford needed a new look.

His new clothes were in the shades of gold and black. Black pants, satin like material with embedded gold colored, metal shapes decorating the cuffs of the legs. A gold fabric sash around his waist. His shirt was a gold, sheer fabric. It was so light that it didn't even feel like it was there.

Instead of his boots he wore gold sandals, straps crossing over each other, a bit a past the ankles.

Jewelry took on the form of one earring on his right ear, a small curtain of tiny, gold triangles. The tag to his collar did have yet another presence of a triangle. Though with a difference. The triangle with formed out of bright blue jewels in the center of a gold, six fingered hand symbol.

The final thing that Bill had done was the presence of the markings. Ford would call them tattoos as they did not smear or rub off. But there was certainly no ink involved in the process. Just a finger snap and there were there.

The markings were all a bright blue color. In the same shade of blue that Bill's power sometimes took on.

Back of his neck and on both arms were lines one small triangles facing vertically. On the back of his hands were a single eye marking on each hand, the irises of the eyes bright gold. A bulk of the markings were located on his chest. A large triangle shape with a slew of eyes and tiny, tiny writing that from far away looked like mere squiggles According to Bill the writing simply said "If found, return to Bill Cipher.". A fail safe of sorts if Ford did manage to get out.

It made Ford feel like the pet that Bill was claiming him to be. Speaking of Bill, the triangle was still there, admiring his work.

"Oh look at you" Bill cooed. "You look perfect."

Ford scowled, not looking Bill in the eye.

He did not like how much he was exposed. Not to a lurid degree. But his scarred hands and chest were a part of himself he did not enjoy showing off. Bill did not mind though. Ford had never thought Bill to be someone to leer before. Yet here they were.

"But really. You're perfect." Bill said.

Bill took one of Ford's hands, and the fingers of Bill's right hand laced between some of Ford's fingers. A almost soft gesture. And it was for someone like Bill.

It brought up a memory of when he was much younger. The time he tried to hold someones hand. It had been part of a plan Stan had to help Ford get a date. Take the girls hand, offer a smooth line. It would work he promised.

Instead the girl had winced at the touch of his hand, staring at his fingers. These days Ford understood that her reaction most likely was more to the fact that he had made a unwanted move and not as much his fingers. But then.. he also couldn't help but feel like his fingers had been a part of the equation.

Bill had no such problems. No wincing at the sixth finger. As much as Bill would poke fun at the existence of Ford's six fingers on each hand, it was hardly the weirdest thing that Bill had seen. Not just in his experiences but in himself.

Ford was tempted to let Bill keep holding his hand. Then the disgust at both Bill and himself hit and he pulled his hand away. Ford could feel his face grow hot. Bill was smug, not missing the signs of embarrassment.

"You know, the offer to be equals still stands. No more chains, no more being locked up." Bill said. "You could even have your own little patch of land to rule over. Do whatever you want with it. Oh! You like that weird game with the dice and math right? You could play a game of it where your rolls and decisions affect actual people. Gives a little more interest to the game I think. Even I would give that game a try then." Bill said.

Ford was shocked that Bill had even remembered anything Ford had liked hobby wise. What wasn't surprise that Bill would find a way to twist it to be something that could be horrific and hurt people.

"I will tell you again Cipher. No." Ford said.

Bill seemed to scowl, even without a mouth. In the next moment the same hand that had been holding Ford's hand was gripping Ford's chin.Bill's grip was painful. For a moment Ford wondered if Bill was trying to break his jaw. It would not be the first time Bill had broken something, only to heal it when he had enough of the screaming that would follow. This time though that was not the case. Bill sensed that Ford's jaw would not hold up to this kind of pressure and his grip grew a bit less severe.

"I'll have your heart, Stanford Pines."

Ford expected something like Bill shoving his hand into his chest and pulling his heart out. In fact he braced himself for it. He would not know what Bill had planned to do in that moment as Bill's attention seemed to be elsewhere all of a sudden. As if he sensed something amiss.

"I'll be back soon. Don't go anywhere."

With a snap of his fingers, Bill was gone. Ford looked to the mirror he was still standing in front of. He stared at his reflection for a good while. Not at all feeling good about his look.

The line of triangle markings on Ford's left arm suddenly had a single eye in the middle of each one. A feature that had not been there a second ago. The markings blinked, or they winked. Ford couldn't help but think that winking was what they were doing.

In the span of time that the markings winked, the eyes disappeared. A sign to Ford that Bill was always watching him.

Always.

[tea-plantz]

could i rq general headcanons of yandere bill cipher? :-) have a wonderful day btw!!

Dude Bill is literally my fav Gravity Falls character, anyways here you go and thank you for the request!

They/them for the reader

!tw: mention of blood, violence, kidnapping, torture and typical yandere stuff, spoilers!

<Yandere Bill Cipher x Reader HCS>

Ok so first of all, Bill first stumbled upon you in a small, weird town called Gravity Falls.

You were walking around in the forest, looking at trees, picking up rocks, simply enjoying a warm summer day in the bizarre town.

Bill can’t really explain why, but you strangely seemed to have caught his attention, as he continued to watch you from afar.

You seemed rather interesting and Bill didn’t exactly have anything better to do than to follow this eye catching h/c human around.

———————————————————

After that little incident, Bill couldn’t get his mind off of you. He didn’t understand why though, you were just a mere human after all, and he was a literal demon! But there was just something special about your aroma, like you were pulling him in somehow. You just seemed so different, unique, pretty… weird huh?

Bill decided that he needed to know more about you, so that’s exactly what he did! For a few months he continued to stalk keep an eye on you, gathering some information about yourself. Nothing wrong with that, right? He was just looking out for you.

Over time, Bill’s obsession with you started to grow, and not in an healthy way. He found himself craving to talk to you, to make you smile and to kiss you…(how that works, I do not know:P)

The triangle finally decided that enough was enough. He NEEDED to have you.

After a little thinking, Bill decided that the most appropriate way to go about this would be to try and make a deal with you. It’s his specialty after all!

So one morning you woke up to find a… dorito person?? floating right above your head, staring straight at you. Had that thing… had it been watching you sleep?!

“Greetings, my lovely little muse!” The yellow thing said, while bowing down and tilting it’s hat in a formal way. “How are you, Y/n, doing on this beautiful morning? Would you like some rabbit teeth-“ “AAAAAAAAAAH”

Bill desperately tried to calm you down and tell you that he meant no harm. After a bit of a struggle, you finally calmed down and listened to what he had to say.

The demon offered you a deal that honestly seemed too good to be true. You would get whatever you wished for, and all he needed in return was just a small, little favor! Whether you choose to expected this deal or not is completely up to you.

If you expect, he would be thrilled! “Great! Just great, my little friend! Now, my dear, I just need an itsy bitsy little thing from you… you!”

If you declined, however, he would just have to resort to more drastic measures to get what he desires. Either way you’re coming with him, whether you like it or not.

——————————————————————————

Now that Bill finally has you, I feel like he’s actually going to treat you pretty decent! He’s a gentleman you know, and he knows how to treat you right.

He has a romantic side, constantly giving you gifts, telling you how precious you are, and he even plays the piano for you!

Don’t be fooled though, if you do get on his bad side he won’t hesitate to punish you.

Bill can be a bit of a sadist and his punishments are usually cruel and inhumane. However, I don’t think he’s gonna hurt you physically, like cutting limbs or torture, no. I feel like Bill, being the bizarre creature he is, is probably going to punish you by for example turning you’re legs into chicken legs! Basically anything strange or abnormal that would cause you distress. He probably enjoys it as well, seeing the look on your face as you scream and run around the room. “You’re gonna have to run faster then that toots! Ahahaha!”

The dorito man probably wouldn’t chain you up or something, unless he has to. He’ll let you walk around freely in his weird dimension, moreover, you probably wouldn’t even dare to try and escape either way , since Bill has stated various threats, and made it crystal clear that he or other creatures in his dimension will hurt you, or people you care about (y’know like in the show, with Dipper and Mabel? The “ini mini miny YOU” scene) if you leave him for too long.

When it comes to jealousy, I don’t think Bill would get that jealous, honestly. He knows you’re his, plus you wouldn’t really be able to leave anyway. Although, if anyone did look at you the wrong way, well… let’s just say he won’t hesitate to kill for you. The triangle would sometimes even bring you present to remind you that you belong to him and him alone, although the gifts could sometimes be a bit gory, if you get what I’m saying. Bill would someday want to rule over the galaxy, with you by his side. That’s his ultimate goal and fantasy.

I don’t really think this is the worst situation to get stuck in, I mean come on! He can literally get you whatever you want, just as long as you love him! With just a few dark moments here and there, I think Bill would actually be a pretty good significant other, even though he can be a bit possessive.

[ckret2]

Chapter 59 of human Bill Cipher possibly not being the Mystery Shack's prisoner because he got executed two chapters ago:

Everything you haven't wondered about how Bill survived his execution.

7:27 a.m.

Mabel didn't know why, but figuring out when to ask Mrs. Grendinator to pull over had felt as stressful as trying to throw a ping pong ball into a passing car's open fuel door to land in the little fuel pipe. All she had to do was ask to pull over after they'd passed everything but the last truck stop, but before it was too late for Mrs. Grendinator to make the turn into the Triple Digit parking lot. That was a large window. It wasn't easy to miss. Somehow Mabel still dreaded that she'd speak up too late and Mrs. Grendinator would say she'd have to wait for the next rest stop—by which point Bill would have splatted like a bug against the weirdness barrier while everyone else passed safely through.

But she'd managed to blurt out "I forgot to use the bathroom at home. Can we pull over?"; they'd stopped at the Triple Digit Truck Stop; and Mabel made it inside before her friends could catch her.

She locked the unisex restroom door, set her backpack on the ground, opened it up, and sighed with relief when she saw Bill sitting on her sweater. She carefully pulled him out, set him on the floor, and pointed the height-altering flashlight at him.

For a moment after returning to his true size, he remained seated on the floor, legs bent, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. Worriedly, Mabel asked, "You okay?"

"Think I learned what motion sickness is," Bill groaned. "Just—gimme a sec."

"Aww, I'm sorry." Mabel surreptitiously checked in her backpack to make sure Bill hadn't been sick on her sweater. (It was a cool one. It had kissing parrots.)

After a few deep breaths, Bill lifted his head enough to look at Mabel. The first thing he said was, "'Cool big brother-slash-sister,' huh?" He gave her a queasy, but cheeky, grin.

"Shut uuup you weren't supposed to hear that!" She'd just about died with embarrassment when Candy had repeated that where she knew Bill could hear.

"I'm flattered." Bill uncurled himself from his nauseous half-fetal position; and then, gripping onto the sink for support, got back to his feet. "Being smaller again was nice, but I'm never traveling like that again."

"You're such a whiner."

"Yeah, yeah. I have a lot to whine about. I'm dead and about to be executed. Talk about... lose your cake and... not-eat it, too."

Mabel laughed. Bill mussed her hair, grinning, and said, "Hey, you've got no room to laugh, you're the one with the not-setting-houses-on-fire bit."

"Arrrgh, don't remind me!" She pushed Bill to the side so she could use the mirror to straighten out her hair again.

"You did pretty well, though! I'd say that was some of the best acting I've ever seen out of you."

"You too! They definitely bought it," Mabel said. "Even Grunkle Stan was getting worried."

"Especially back in the kitchen, wow! That was really convincing." He paused. "Really, really convincing."

Something heavy hung in the air. Mabel focused on her hair in the mirror.

Bill said, "That bit in the kitchen about me 'depending' on you." He exaggerated the air quotes around the word, distancing himself from the concept. "It wasn't on our list."

"Yeah. It just kinda... seemed right. Improv." Mabel waved unenthusiastic jazz hands.

"It bothers you."

Mabel winced. "I mean... I'm not actually mad at you. But. I want to help, but I don't know what to do for..." She gestured at Bill. "The whole being dead on an alien planet issue."

"Believe it or not, the hoodie helps," Bill said. "Listening helps." But he couldn't meet her gaze; he was fiddling with his friendship bracelet instead. He had to know how heavy even just listening to him could be.

"I'm glad, but... I just... wish you had more friends you could talk to."

Bill nodded morosely. "So do I." It wasn't like he'd chosen to only have one friend, was it? Prisoners didn't get to make those kinds of decisions.

Mabel asked, "Do you really think I think you're just a summer fix-it project?"

"I... pfff... come on, I watched you spend all last summer handing out makeovers and dating advice. You've already done my makeup, taken me clothes shopping, and tried to pump me for info on what kinds of freaks I'm into."

(Mabel quietly filed away the fact that Bill referred to "freaks" as his preferred romantic targets.)

"That's how your summer was going to end," Bill said. "You tame the monster, go home triumphant, and don't worry about it anymore. Like how you patched up Broken Heart's love life and left him to sort out the consequences."

"No!" Mabel huffed, "I mean—maybe a little at the beginning, but... you're really my friend now, I'd hate it if I never saw you again. I don't give friendship bracelets to just anybody!"

Bill kind of thought she did; but he wasn't about to argue. "Well, I've only given one person a bracelet, and I meant it." (Even more now than when he'd originally made it.) "You're never getting rid of me now, star girl. You're stuck with me forever!"

Coming out of Bill Cipher, the promise should have filled her with dread. A month ago it would have filled her with dread. But Mabel just found it comforting. "Good."

(And Ford hadn't felt any dread when he'd sworn "until the end of time," either.)

Bill took off his backpack and rummaged through it. "Now let me make sure I can keep that promise."

He took out a map of the mountains and forest around Gravity Falls and spread it out on the floor for them to kneel in front of. "You know about the spaceship buried under town? When its ring cut through the mountain, a few chunks of the ship dislodged and were buried in one of the mountains. No human has ever found them before, not even your great uncle. That's where I'll hide."

"Are the chunks big enough to hide in?"

"Sure! There's one that'd serve as a decent studio apartment. Well—the cheapest studio apartment in Manhattan, maybe. But, hey, I don't have much furniture."

On the map, he showed Mabel a route to reach the base of the cliff, tracing it with his finger. She couldn't afford to take a map with the route marked; if the adults discovered Bill's escape and confiscated Mabel's possessions, a marked map would lead them straight to him. She'd just have to do her best to memorize the route he described. "When and if the coast is clear, you can come find me there."

"How do I get up the cliff?"

"Don't worry about that. You make it that far, I'll take care of the rest."

And that was all they could afford to discuss. Mabel couldn't hide in here for long. As Bill refolded the map (and Mabel was awed to learn he was the kind of person who could refold maps correctly on the first try), and he packed the map and the height-altering flashlight in his backpack, they each tried separately to figure out how to get around to saying goodbye.

"I uh... I know you're sticking your neck out for me, kid." (Bill wasn't used to this, wasn't used to people who didn't help him due to fear or duty or lies, wasn't used to people who still wanted to help him after they knew what he was really like.) "So, thanks—"

Mabel flung her arms around him. Her voice thick, she said, "I think your manners are getting better."

"Shut up, I've always known how to say thanks." It was gratitude that was new.

"Be safe out there," Mabel said. "Don't die, or else. Remember to eat. And drink water! And do laundry sometimes."

"All right, all right. You'll find me in better health than you left me. All the sunshine and fresh air this body can take."

"I'll miss you."

Keep it together, Cipher. He swallowed hard. "Have you ever heard the song 'We'll Meet Again'?"

"Uh-uh?"

"Old war song. Look it up once you're in Portland, when you aren't busy having synthesizers pumped in your ears."

"Is it about... how we'll meet again?"

"Yes, smartypants. Look it up anyway," Bill said. "I'll miss you too."

Mabel washed her face, left the restroom, and shut the door behind her; and Bill waited in the dark while everyone left.

####

7:45 a.m.

A woman with two children opened the unisex restroom door, and gasped in shock when she saw a human silhouette lurking in the dark, one eye shining.

"Hey, thanks, lady! Couldn't get the door for some reason." He breezed past her. "Careful, it sticks from the inside."

He grabbed an empty backpack for sale, and loaded it up with supplies, food, and drinks. (The good stuff, not the weak cider he got in the Mystery Shack. He was making margaritas tonight.) He headed up to the cash register... veered to a currently-unmanned register, stole a handful of loose change out of a tip jar, and timed his exit so he walked out just as a man walked in and kindly held the door for him.

####

7:55 a.m.

It was a fair walk from Triple Digit back to the cliffs around Gravity Falls. When Bill was a safe distance into the woods, he unzipped his first backpack, retrieved his flattened top hat, and popped it out; and then continued on, behatted and using his umbrella like a cane.

Even with no sleep, even just a couple of days after the worst hiking trip in history, even tired and sore from an hour of frenzied dancing, even carrying two full backpacks with one strap slung over each shoulder, even with the sky gloomy and overcast—this was the best he'd felt since Weirdmageddon.

His steps were sure, his body was unchained, and the future had opened up for him again.

####

8:00 a.m.

Mabel kept glancing out the window, back in the direction of Gravity Falls, waiting and waiting to see the light of some kind of killer laser cut through the sky.

Maybe the Quantum Destabilizer's beam just wasn't visible from this far. Maybe they'd decided to wait to execute Bill. Maybe they hadn't wasted their shot because they'd already discovered Bill and Mabel's ruse. Maybe the "enchantment" Bill had written hadn't done its job.

But if they had discovered Bill was missing, they would've called Mabel immediately, trying to find out what she'd done and where he'd gone.

Her phone sat hard and heavy and silent in her pocket.

The butterflies in her stomach didn't stop fluttering until long after they reached Portland.

####

10:30 a.m.

Plus or minus a few trees, the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff was just how Bill had remembered last seeing it millennia ago. The Trilazzx Betan proximity sensor that had been embedded in the cliff face since the ship crash was still there and still sensing, even after millions of years and a layer of stone had closed around it. He could see it behind the face of the cliff; and it could see him.

He took out the multi-tool pocket knife Dipper had "donated" to Bill's supplies, flipped out the blade, and carved his face in a tree far enough from the rendezvous point to avoid notice by anyone who found this spot, but near enough it could see anyone who showed up. He made it as accurate as he could—hat, bow, limbs, eyelashes. That would unfortunately make it easier for humans to identify the face if anyone happened to walk by, but his ability to connect to his other eyes was still weak, he needed as much of a boost as he could get. He licked the bark, leaving his saliva to connect the eye on the tree to him.

And then he returned to the rendezvous point at the base of the cliff, and, beneath the watchful eye of the proximity sensor, began digging in the dirt with his hands.

Beneath the soil, fortunately not buried too deep, was a stone shaped like a small tombstone with several symbols carved into its surface that superficially resembled common runes. Bill brushed the dirt off of his leggings and rubbed it out of the carved lines in the stone. It was lucky that today was overcast; it would make this thing a lot easier to control.

Bill took out the flashlight, removed the height-altering crystal, turned it on, and aimed the beam at the topmost rune.

The runes began glowing an eerie green.

The ground shuddered; and then a patch of ground five feet in diameter lifted up into the air, carrying Bill with it, tearing the grass at the edge of the circle, propelled by a long-forgotten enchanted stone platform concealed in the clump of dirt.

He rose to the gouge that the spaceship had carved into the mountain; and then he moved his flashlight's beam to another rune. The platform smoothly shifted to moving sideways, gliding beneath the ancient overhang. When he turned off the flashlight, the stone stopped glowing and gently settled to the ground. Bill stepped off, fished a spare shirt out of his backpack, and pulled it over the rune-covered stone so it couldn't take off if the sun came out. There was a reason this buried stone was the only platform of its kind left in the area outside of the deep mountain caverns: leave one outside on a sunny day where the light can hit its runes, and next thing you know it's zoomed out over the Pacific and is quickly rising toward space.

He surveyed the area. Every once in a while humans climbed up here just for the challenge of it, delightful little explorers they were; but he doubted anyone had been up here in decades. He stood in front of what was, to all appearances, a completely nondescript patch of stony ground; and he said, in heavily accented but intelligible Trilazzx Betan, "Let me in, you hunk of junk. Activate emergency crash protocols."

A fragment of ship deep beneath the ground stirred awake, registered the command, analyzed itself and concluded from the fact that it wasn't in space and was separated from 99% of the rest of itself that it had indeed crashed, and activated emergency crash protocols. In acknowledgment of the dire situation, it deactivated its usual authorized personnel list—there was no sense in waiting for the captain to approve new orders if the captain might be dead—accepted the command given by the unknown being above it, and opened its hatch.

Millions of years of solid stone groaned and buckled in protest at being moved; but Trilazzx Betan engineering was strong enough for the framework of a portal capable of ripping a hole between dimensions without being ripped apart itself. The stone yielded first. A hatch swung up, revealing a tilted chamber descending into the cliff.

Bill strolled confidently down the walkway. "Cancel distress signal. Disable life support's air filtering." The fragment of a ship beeped a warning, and Bill responded, "I'm aware of this planet's high oxygen content. You worry about your health, I'll worry about mine. Disable air filtering." The ship beeped a confirmation. "Reconnect to all external proximity sensors in range and display on screens one, two, and three." This broken part of the ship had once handled communications. It had a whole wall of screens. He wondered whether he could jury rig this thing to pick up human satellite TV. Nah, probably not worth the effort.

He slung off his backpacks and started unpacking.

####

12:04 p.m.

It was time.

Dipper sat on the floor and put his head in his hands. He felt sick.

He was dead. In just a few seconds Ford would discover that Bill was gone—Dipper was sure he was gone, they hadn't heard a peep from the room, Mabel must've snuck him out or left him some escape route—and then Ford would know that someone had warned Bill and Mabel, and then Dipper was dead—

"Are you alright?"

"Yeah." Dipper waved Ford off. "Just... didn't get much sleep. Little dizzy." Ford would never trust him again. Stan would be furious. They'd both be furious.

"You can go downstairs if you..."

"No no, I'm fine, I..." Dipper took a deep breath and lifted his head. "I'll face it." Better to get it over with now than to hide downstairs and wait for it. 

Stan nodded. "Good man." He wouldn't be so proud of Dipper in a moment.

Ford nodded, stood, opened the door—and Dipper buried his face in his hands again.

####

12:06 p.m.

Ford could see Bill up in the loft, hood up and shoulders hunched, back to the room. Ford could shoot Bill in the back without him ever waking up.

He climbed into the loft. Bill lay curled up in a ball, a small as Ford had ever seen him.

But it only took a moment for Ford's eyes to adjust to the dark; and even in the dim light through the stained glass window, he could tell:

The shape in front of him wasn't human. Just lumpy clothes.

Ford whipped around, heart pounding, clutching the Quantum Destabilizer's carrying case against his chest, searching for the real Bill lurking somewhere in the shadows. No sign of him. Ford had already looked on the floor level. Was he gone? How?

He was too dumbfounded to be outraged. He walked up to the dummy to pull it apart—

And saw the paper, folded in quarters, floating in the air above it. Four symbols in a cipher were written atop the paper. Ford recognized them: it was the alien alphabet of an interdimensional pidgin used as a written lingua franca throughout the Nightmare Realm and its bordering regions; it was so widespread that Ford had learned the alphabet before he ever left Earth.

The four letters read, "F O R D".

Ford plucked the paper out of the air and unfolded it.

Stanford–

I'll cut to the chase. I need your help. I don't want to die.

I'm banking on the hope that, in spite of everything you've said and done, part of you also doesn't want me to die.

You have a choice. You can walk out there, tell them I escaped, rally an angry mob, and comb everything under the weirdness barrier for me. This town's not that big and I'll need to eat eventually. We both know I can't hide forever.

Or you can tell them you finished the job. No one looks for me. No one knows but you and me.

I don't have rewards or deals to offer. You already know what I bring to the table. If that hasn't persuaded you to side with me by now, it never will. I'm not bargaining. I'm begging.

I'm asking you, as my friend, to help me survive.

Please.

· –·-– -–

Of course.

How dare he.

Had Bill planned this all along? Was this why he'd insisted he wanted to be Ford's friend? Was this why he'd saved his life? Maybe the entire rescue had been staged—the rescue, the performance of fear over a harmless phenomenon, the mental breakdown, all of it. For all Ford knew, maybe the accursed Axolotl was in on the scheme! How clairvoyant was Bill? Had he seen this moment coming?

But if he'd seen this moment coming, wouldn't it have been easier to just let Ford, his executioner-to-be, die? Ford and Dipper both, so Dipper wouldn't figure out how to synthesize NowUSeeitNowUDontium? If he'd saved them in spite of that, didn't that make it a sincere gesture?

But implication was clear: I've been a friend to you, now be one to me. A life for a life. There was nothing sincere in that. It was pure self interest.

(For just a couple of days, Ford really had thought it was sincere.)

But if the only reason Bill had saved Ford was to save himself—then why had Bill endangered his own life in the process?

With every thought Ford's paranoia pendulumed.

He should get Stan. Call the cops, confess who they'd been harboring for the past month, tell them everything, get a manhunt going before Bill could make it any further away. Even if he couldn't leave the weirdness barrier, there were probably hundreds of hidden hidey-holes Bill could dig himself into that humans had never seen—unexplored hallways in Crash Site Omega, uncharted caverns behind Trembley Falls where Bill didn't even need light to see. They could drag him back into the light, tie him up, aim the Quantum Destabilizer straight at him...

But. In spite of himself, he could still see Mabel's drawing hopefully reassigning Bill the role of a superhero. He could still see the crumpled drawing in his pocket—"I BELIEVE IN YOU. YOU CAN CHANGE!" He could still see Dipper tentatively asking whether they might need Bill someday. He could still see Bill playing teacher in the living room. And for a moment, for just a moment, Bill had been so good. He could be so good.

Why couldn't you have been this person?

Why can't you be this person?

What if he could be better? What if he could be decent? What if he could be a friend?

Ford didn't believe Bill was any better today than he had been the day he died. But—at some point, something had slowly turned over in Ford's mind. He believed that Bill could change. Not would change, not is changing, but could. And if Ford started a manhunt, Bill would never be a threat again—but he'd also never be better.

There was a point where the doubt and hope built up to a critical mass—when they became enough, just enough, to stay the trigger finger. Because once Ford fired on Bill, that was it. All chances were gone forever. It was over. If Bill was alive they could always try again to kill him later; but if Bill was dead, they could never try again to better him.

And for the first time in thirty years, Ford wanted Bill to be better more than he wanted Bill to be dead.

Ford looked at the dummy. Looked at the note.

And then he lay the note on the dummy, knelt by the edge of the loft, opened his case, and removed the Quantum Destabilizer.

####

12:09 p.m.

Ten minutes ago, Bill had been in the process of emptying out his backpacks and finding nooks and cubbies amongst the alien communication workstations where he could tuck his supplies, when he'd glanced out the open hatch and noticed the beforeimage of the shot lighting up the sky.

He'd come out of his shelter to watch the moment approach; but he hadn't quite believed it until it was in the present and actually happening. The blue-white beam of the Quantum Destabilizer—its one and only shot—screamed off into the sky.

"Well, what do you know," he murmured, standing at the edge of the cliff, hands on his hips, staring out in wonder over the town. "I really didn't think you'd do it."

Ford had saved his life.

Bill crossed his arms tight and tried to convince himself he didn't wonder why.

####

12:10 p.m.

Ford heard Dipper and Stan come into the bedroom and climb the ladder. He was seized by an urge to sweep away the ashes and the evidence of his trick before they could realize what he'd done.

"Grunkle Ford...?"

He forced himself to speak. "It's done."

"So... Bill is...?"

Ford suddenly realized: Dipper knew Bill wasn't in here. He must have warned Mabel, and Mabel had arranged for Bill to be alone in their room long enough to escape.

Which meant Dipper knew Bill was alive.

(Bill had written, "No one knows but you and me." Bill was covering for the kids.)

Ford turned to look him in the eyes. "Yes, he's dead."

Which meant Dipper knew what Ford had done—and knew Ford knew what he had done.

Neither one of them needed to say anything else to know what the other was thinking. They just shared a look—the two most miserable co-conspirators in Gravity Falls.

####

12:25 p.m.

Bill sat cross-legged at the edge of the cliff and watched until the afterimage of the Quantum Destabilizer's shot had faded from the sky; and then he went inside his shelter, mixed the world's lamest margarita in a coffee mug, took it outside, sat again, and toasted toward the town and the Mystery Shack.

Here's to survival.

He sat outside until the gash the Quantum Destabilizer had cut in the clouds closed and it began to rain.

####

1:10 p.m.

Stan had come and gone a few minutes ago, and already Ford had forgotten everything he'd said, if he'd even registered it in the first place.

His fingers had itched until he'd finally had a moment to steal down to his study, retrieve Journal 5, and bring it up to the guest room; and now for over half an hour he'd been feverishly writing down every single thing he could remember learning about Bill over the last two days. The drawing of his homeworld. His lecture on biangles and psychic powers. How polygons inherited their sides. (Their royalty sounded nigh on Habsburgian; had their political system ever changed?) What little details Bill had let slip about where Edward Bishop Bishop's book was wrong. (Had he told Mabel more about their relationship? He'd have to ask when she was home.) How Bill signed his letter: "· -·-- --", Morse code for "EYM," was it an acronym, was it a code, what did it mean, why did he write it in two colors? How Bill spelled Mabel's name in alien alphabets: Mabelle, Maybell, the varying extra letters. How Bill danced: how he struggled to cross his ankles, how he turned out his feet, how his spine and shoulders never bent, how the complex ways he tilted his legs and pelvis compensated for his stiff spine.

If Bill was sticking around a while longer, then these details still mattered.

He refused to forget a thing.

####

Sunday, 12:02 a.m.

As "We'll Meet Again" finished playing, Mabel turned off her phone, put it back on her nightstand, and wiped her eyes again. Big stupid dork couldn't even say this himself, he had to hide it behind a song. 

Yes. They would meet again. Law of attraction. Believing it was the first step to making it come true.

####

10:20 a.m.

The fearful butterflies in Mabel's stomach had slowly returned during the drive home from Portland. No one had texted her—was that a good sign?—but she was afraid it just meant they'd decided to let her enjoy the rest of her trip before letting her know she was grounded forever for helping Bill escape. When they'd all greeted her at the door, looking so somber, and she was sure she was about to get the bad news, she'd just had to keep acting normal and hope she wasn't gonna get in more trouble for playing dumb.

The last thing she expected Stan to say was, "Weshotim."

"Say wha?"

"We got that—space gun of Ford's working. We shot him. He's... I'm sorry, sweetie."

Mabel stared at Stan. That was impossible—there was no way they'd found Bill. But—if Stan believed he was dead...

She dragged her gaze from his face to Dipper's. Dipper bit his lips, staring at his feet. He wouldn't meet her eyes—too afraid that even looking at her would give something away.

She looked from Dipper to Ford. "Grunkle Ford?" She tried not to hope. "Is it true?"

There was no way he'd believed the dummy was real. The moment she'd read Bill's so-called "enchantment," she'd known making it believable was never the point. Bill's only real plan had always been to get Ford on their side.

For a long moment, Ford said nothing. He dragged his eyes up to meet her stare, took a deep breath, and nodded. "He's dead."

Mabel's eyes widened. Two days ago, Ford had been the one arguing that killing Bill was their only choice. If he'd changed his mind...

If anyone said anything else, she didn't register it in her excitement. She backed out of the doorway, leaped off the porch, and ran around the shack, looking for her bike. 

She had to see Bill immediately.

####

10:21 a.m.

Quietly, Dipper asked, "Did we do the right thing?"

Ford didn't know. His stomach had been twisting with guilt and doubt since yesterday. His conscience had kept him up half the night. "I hope so."

He feared they'd have second-guessed themselves no matter what.

####

2:30 p.m.

Bill was asleep. He'd been sleeping off and on for most of the past day. This was the first time since he'd died that he had somewhere safe to sleep—somewhere nobody could touch his vulnerable body, nobody could move him, drown him, kill him.

And this was the first time he hadn't been helpless and sightless.

In his sleep, he saw his own body, curled up on the tilted floor against a wall, on top of the sleeping bag and under the Pony Heist bedsheet, from an eye he'd drawn on the ceiling.

From another eye he'd drawn on the wall, he saw the ship's open hatch, the overhang above, a small sliver of the gray drizzly sky over Gravity Falls.

And from his eye on the tree, blurry and fading as the rain washed away his saliva, he saw a human-shaped mass of raucous colors exploring the pit in the ground left behind by his hovering platform.

A human? He sat up with a gasp and looked at the screen displaying the proximity sensors. Sure enough, the sensor at the base of the cliff was displaying a Mabel-shaped silhouette.

He grabbed his flashlight and climbed out of his shelter.

####

"Kid, what are you doing out out here?!"

Mabel looked up. Bill was some twenty feet above her and quickly descending on what looked like a chunk of flying dirt the same size as the pit in the ground she'd been inspecting. "Bill!" She leaned her bike against the cliff face. Finally—she'd been wandering around in the trees forever trying to figure out where Bill's rendezvous point was hidden.

"It's pouring rain," Bill scolded. "You could lose your immune system or—or slip in the mud or something."

"Wow, nice to see you too, mom." Mabel ran up as Bill landed his floating chunk of ground.

"Hey, I don't want anything happening to my favorite human!" He scooted over to make room for her on the platform. "Just couldn't wait for a sunny day to meet again, huh?"

"Psh, come on! Like you meant that literally." Near Bill, the rain had mysteriously stopped landing on Mabel. She looked up and saw the rain simply parting in the air over Bill's head.

He noticed her glance and said, "Did I ever teach you the spell to repel rain? Remind me to do that before you go." He pointed his flashlight's beam at a rune on a stone rising from the platform, and it lifted off again. "Nice sweater today." He poked one parrot-winged sleeve, its bright colors darkened by the soaking rain. "It probably looked better dry."

Mabel smacked away his hand. "Bill, guess what! Grunkle Ford decided to protect you!"

"I know, I saw the wasted shot from here." He steered the platform onto the cliff. He landed it next to a hatch that opened into a subterranean tunnel. "Of course, I always knew he would. Didn't I say we'd pull this off?"

Sure he'd known. That was why he'd lied about what the "enchanted" paper really was so Mabel wouldn't worry.

Mabel followed him down into the metal tunnel. "Do you know what this means? You can come back to the shack!"

Bill turned to stare at her in bewilderment. "Why would I want to do that?"

"Because... it's safe now? They're not gonna kill you?" Mabel squinted. "Why's it so dark in here?"

"Oh, right. You need this." Bill offered the flashlight.

Mabel turned it on. They were in a metal chamber, about half the size of the Mystery Shack's floor room and nowhere near as tall. One end of it had been torn off and dirt and stone served as the new wall. Most of the walls were dominated by heavy metal consoles, curved metal chairs, and screens, a few of which were on but flickered irritatingly. One chair still had a fossilized alien skeleton in it. Bill had put his top hat on it.

His supplies were piled haphazardly on consoles and the floor; all Mabel saw in his food pile was shelf-stable junk food and drinks. The air somehow felt more damp in here than it did outside with the rain. The chairs didn't have cushions, the floor didn't have carpet; everything was hard and cold and dark. She didn't even see a door for a bathroom in here. This was where Bill was staying?

"The Mystery Shack is safe for now," Bill said. "Just wait until Stanley decides to take another swing at me, or Dolores poisons my dinner again—or Ford changes his mind, dunks me in the bathtub, and doesn't let me back out."

"They wouldn't..." Mabel trailed off. She tried to imagine how mad Stan would be when he found out Bill was alive, and had to concede he might.

"Even if it was safe—why would I go back to that sorry makeshift prison?" Bill hopped up into one of the tilted alien chairs. There was a weird extended bit designed for alien anatomy that curved up at the end of the seat and forced Bill to straddle the chair rather than sit in it normally; it didn't look comfortable. "After almost a month and a half, I'm finally free!"

"Free inside a tiny bubble around the town," Mabel protested. "To live in a... weird little metal dirt room."

"Freely moving inside the entire barrier is a lot better than freely moving through half a shack! Surrounded by people who want me dead! I don't even get full privacy when I'm using the toilet—that's the bare minimum humans offer as basic respect! You don't know how many times I've been walked in on!"

"Do you even have a toilet here?"

Bill hesitated. "There's a—there are gas stations within walking distance."

"How are you gonna get into the restroom?"

"Fine, I'll dig a pit or something, all right? The point is, whatever I do, at least I can do it in freedom!"

He hadn't planned this through at all, Mabel realized. He'd only thought as far ahead as finding food and shelter that would last him the next couple of days. "But..." She gestured at the pathetic room around them. "The shack's got a proper roof and a shower and real food—wouldn't that be better than this?"

Bill scoffed "Only humans care about roofs and showers, and the idea of 'real' food is a social construct I reject!"

He'd be miserable here. Mabel couldn't let Bill do this to himself. "Then don't you wanna be in the shack with your only friend on Earth?" She gave him a pleading look. "Would you really rather spend the rest of summer in some dumb old busted alien ship?"

There was a flash of light reflected in the dark as Bill's eyes turned away from Mabel.

"Bill?"

He didn't respond. He trudged past her, halfway up the walkway out of the ship, and stopped there, his back to Mabel, hands on his hips, staring out into the rain. He sighed. "Kid, you're trying to give me Stockholm syndrome."

"I don't know what that means."

"It means I'll think about it," Bill said, voice flat. "Go back to the shack."

Before Mabel could move, Bill said, "Hold on. Let me teach you that umbrella spell first." He turned and descended back into the ship. "And when's the last time you ate? Human bodies act pathetic if they don't get glucose every three hours. Get some lunch, it's a long bike back to the shack." He gestured at his meager food supplies.

She rummaged through the foil bags and colorful boxes and grabbed some Chipackers and sour gummy dolphins.

Bill sat near her, grabbed a bag of jerky for himself, and said, "And tell me about that concert you abandoned me to my doom for."

####

4:00 p.m.

Bill escorted Mabel down off the cliff—and, at her request, let her borrow the flashlight and wiggle the floating platform back and forth a little as they descended. He took back the flashlight when she nearly crashed the platform and killed them both.

"Where'd this come from?" Mabel asked, poking the stone. "Did the aliens make this, too?"

"Nope! This is good old local Earth magic. Ever hear of Caterpillar Man?"

"Is that some kind of superhero?"

"Afraid not. Well—ever hear of Grendel?"

"Uh-uh."

They were nearly at the ground now. "I think I'll tell you next time."

As the platform lifted him back up, Bill watched Mabel wheel her bike through the trees, slowly heading toward the main road back into town.

For a midsummer day, it was chilly in the rain.

####

Monday, 1:03 a.m.

And it was even chillier in the post-midnight dark when he knocked on the Mystery Shack's door.

####

(Eager to hear what y'all think now that you've seen the full story of how Bill survived—last week once Dipper and Mabel's roles were revealed, I think most folks thought that fully explained how Bill faked his death. ;) Next week is probably a double length chapter, because there's no graceful way to break it in half and also it'd be nice to get this plot arc wrapped up before The Book of Bill comes out lmao.)

[mdddante]

anyways with comms out of the way uhh im getting back into my limbus company owb au 💥💥💥💥

re-meet Dante, the White Savior, leader of the 3rd L Corp. "Liberator Saints"

somehow weaseled their way into rebuilding lobotomy corporation, attempts to upkeep more efficient energy production than the old l corp did with their new epic prosthetic worker family and their funny restoration repairs, as well as going under the radar to pull poor people from the backstreets into their EPIC prosthetic cult family

someday hopes to gain enough people to Overthrow the Government ^TM although we all know dante could never fucking do that

though while their first and second goals are to build their family of prostheses and someday overthrow the leaders of the city, dante also has a third very very funny goal:

to bring about the White Nights and Dark Days. A-fucking-gain.

thats right folks dante is a little history fucking fanboy after don quixote told them all about color fixers and the history of the city

dante has a VILE fucking hatred for humans and all things humanity so what should he do to cope with his rage and hatred? thats right he should totally bring about 3 days of positivity and light then shut it the fuck down to cause 4 days of absolute despair for all with a mind across the city and recreate the big hashtag pianist incident to wreak havoc on the city and its foul, filthy humans within it

dante of course will fail somewhere along the way because while this is basically building up to a mary sue plotline where the world shifts around one guy to get what he wants this is still a project moon mirror world and because its project moon nobody gets what they fucking want

dante will enjoy his funny cult until eventually his ulterior motives are found out by the head and by extension the rest of the city and hes fucking stomped on with spit on his grave and creating a wave of hatred for prostheses that not even the one who grips herself could create

keep in mind that half of the time during this embarrassing fucking rant i have had absolutely no idea what im talking about nor how the government in project moon works i am just looking for some way to have dante get to be cool without him embarrassing himself. i need reason in everything

tldr; dante is a little bitchboy that worships prostheses, hates humanity, somehow by some fucking plot miracle got the government to trust him with a whole ass wing, and would kiss roland and/or angela on the lips if given the chance

also his main literature inspirations are alice in wonderland and paradise lost, his more non literature inspirations are bill cipher and kromer and also the "the devil shivers when the nice guy snaps" fanfiction/au trope

take this information how you will, i dont take blunt criticism, i just wanna make dante a narcissistic god complex bitch

toodles

[crispycrunchers]

The Book Of Bill

This is kind of random, but I want to go on a little rant about The Book Of Bill. Fist off, I love the book. I haven't finished it since I really want to take my time with it, but it's so funny and gives us a lot of insight on Bill and his life. Also, toxic old man yao-

But what I really want to talk about is the fact that a lot of Christians and parents are freaking out over it. I am not in fact a parent (thank God) but I am a Christian. One who loves and follows God, but is also a huge nerd so I'm really into things like Gravity Falls. I'm also a 'young' Christian, but have been following God for years and years of my life, so I feel like I know enough to talk about this.

Fist off, the fact that parents are getting mad over the more 'mature' themes in the book. Baby girl, the book and Alex Hirsch said it was for older audiences. I understand people associating Bill Cipher as a kids character, since Gravity Falls is deemed a 'kids show', but if there's a content warning given by the book, you should probably listen. It wasn't really a surprise, since it gave a content warning. And above all, you should have been paying closer attention to what type of media your kids consume. Yeah, you're probably busy, but I somehow highly doubt your kid has their own debit card to buy the book on amazon, and even more so doubt that they went to the store by themselves to buy the book with pocket cash. Anyways, the point is, it has a content warning saying that it is geared towards older audiences, so don't be mad at the book or Alex Hirsch.

Now when it comes to the 'Christian outlook' on all of this, a lot of Christian have been debating on whether it's okay for Christians to watch the show since it has themes of demons, summoning's, and things of that sort. For me personally, I think if you're worried about it negatively impacting your kid, wait until they're older to let them watch it. Realistically, Gravity Falls probably would have scared the crap out of younger me since I was a little weakling lol. But when I got older and had a firm grasp on my own beliefs and watched Gravity Falls, I didn't suddenly become a Satanist or get possessed. And if you're a Christian whos a teenager or even a young adult and wants to watch Gravity Falls without compromising your relationship with God, I want you to keep some things in mind as you make your own decision.

First off, one mistake wont ruin your relationship with God. This I can promise. I've watched a lot of shows that I probably shouldn't have, and they've affected me in a bad way, but never has God pulled away from me or made me start over. If you start watching a show and feel like it's wrong, just stop watching it and move on. God wont hold a grudge. Secondly, Bill Cipher isn't a 'real' demon. He's a fictional character who is a demon in the fictional show, but he's not based off of a real demon from what I've seen. The fourth wall breaking where he talks to the reader in the Book Of Bill is just a fun twist to the whole thing. Yeah, obviously you don't want to give your blood or mind to an evil triangle Dorito demon in real life (even if he is super dapper with his lil' hat and bow tie), but again, it's fictional. I apply this rule to basically everything, meaning I'm gonna watch Beetlejuice Beetlejuice because he isn't based off a real demon, just a fictional one. Now, the last point is that ultimately it's your choice. Hate to break it to you and all those possibly controlling/judgmental family members, but your walk with God is- big shocker- between you and God. It's like how no one can really tell you have to have a relationship with your significant other. Whatever works for the two of you, works for the two of you, and might not work for others. I feel that it is okay for me to love Gravity Falls since I'm not doing anything bad, and I'm not letting it take the place of God if you know what I mean.

Anyways, if you made it this far, congrats. If you're wondering why I posted such a long message about Christianity on my blog about goofy video games/movies/shows/etc., then you're perfectly correct for wondering so. (More yapping ahead, please read this part).

Like I said before, I am a Christian. I've not always been a Christian despite being raised as one, because at some point in our lives we have to question all that we've been thought, and find our own footing. Now, one of the things I am extremely passionate about (besides good story telling and art) is correcting and calling out lies and faults in the church. 'But, Crisp! Isn't that going against church and therefore God!?' Uh, no. If someone was straight up lying about you, wouldn't you want your friend to correct them? And even more so, if you were being lied to, especially in a way that was harming you, wouldn't you want to be corrected?

I am by no means perfect, not even close, and I am nowhere near the level God is at. But I can say that I've spent many years of my life witnessing people who are supposed to be the carriers of love and hope, be the most hateful, fearful people on Earth. Like any group of people, there are good people, and bad people. I want those who want to try out Christianity to be able to see God for who he truly is, and those who are already following God to not be afraid as I was taught to be originally.

Now, worry not, my little buttercups, this isn't randomly going to change into a Christian blog where I'm beating you with the Bible since, quite honestly, that is the last thing I want to be doing. I just want to be super upfront with you all, and provide a place where Christians and none-Christians alike can just co-exist and talk about nerdy things. That being said, I don't care if you're not a Christian, I don't care if you don't agree with everything I say. Love is the most important thing to me, so I want everyone to be able to come together and nerd out about things like Gravity Falls and such. But every now and then I'll make a little (enormous, holy sweet pineapple baby I wrote so much) post like this.

That being said, my apologies for hitting you with such a big piece of text first thing in the morning, lol. But if you made it this far, thank you so much for reading my little (again, enormous) rant. I hope you don't see me as some brainwashed, Bible beating person disguised as a lore freak. I promise I'm not. lol. That being said, I will not tolerate any hate what-so-ever. I don't care from whom towards who, it's entirely wrong. If I find out you're hating on someone I will immediately try and figure out how to remove you (I'm new to Tumblr, spare me the glares).

Anyways, thanks for reading, folks. I hope to see you on a more 'light-hearted'/nerdy topic. I hope you understand everything I wrote here, lol, don't be afraid to ask me any questions, I love yapping as you can tell.

[lovelycrimsonredsnow]

I had to I'm sorry 🤭

Yandere bill cipher (gf) vs discord (mlp)

//since their from different fandoms I made the reader aware of the multiverse and is somehow able to travel it//

(warnings: language, unhealthy themes and slight manipulation)

👁️ ngl what drew bill to you was probably the fact that you could travel dimensions, he didn't know humans could do that...

👁️ he's honestly excited, your kinda like him in a way! He's starting to get delusional

👁️ it litterly takes no time at all before he's making plans to kidnap bring you with him

👁️ he knows almost everything about you! He likes to stoop around in your head to your dislikes and memories. He even knows what pet you had as a kid!

👁️ he also reads your mind alot, he wants to know what your thinking about and if it's about him

👁️ needless to say you've never met.

👁️ when you mysteriously disappear to another place he freaking out. Are you ok? Are you with someone else?? Where did you go?

🎭 when you arrive in his dimension he's curious. Your a rather strange creature aren't you?

🎭 when he hears about you traveling worlds he's even more curious about you now. Maybe he'll go with you one of these days...

🎭 he doesn't bother with the stalking he finds it boring. he just randomly appears in front of you and starts asking questions and talking your ear off.

🎭 he follows you around everywhere to, your never alone with him. He gets attached very quickly if you happen to be kind to him....

🎭 at first he thinks of you as a friend, sorta like how he views fluttershy, but that changes rather quickly

🎭 when you eventually go back to gravity falls he follows you there. whether you wanted him to or not

👁️ bill was ecstatic you came back! He was getting worried for a minute there.

👁️ but that euphoria goes as quickly as it came when he sees discord with you. Just Who does he think he is getting so close to what's Bill's???

👁️ he's not mad, he's pissed.

🎭 when discord sees bill stalking you he thinks it's funny. Does this tiny little triangle man think he can have you? Discord's already claimed you y'know

🎭 oh what's that? Bill's getting mad now? That's laughable

🎭 the moment bill gets serious this man got humbled so quickly hfjgjsksogodjs ✋💀

👁️ they are very different as yanderes, bill is an obsessive clinging yandere. And discord is an controlling and possessive yandere.

👁️ strangely enough, bill rather hates discord's version of chaos. He says it's 'not violent enough' and 'its to limited'.

🎭 discord doesn't care either way, but by now he's starting to get irritated with bill.

👁️ now it's bills turn to laugh, does this man think he actually have you?

👁️ how fucking annoying

🎭 but if you think they were bad separate just wait till they team up.

👁️ all I have to say is that your royally screwed.

🎭 by the time this happens weirdamagenion would have started (I can't spell 💀✋)

👁️ the difference this time being bill won't be stopped so early this time

👁️ as you would think you'll be kept in the pyramid with them. Never to leave...

🎭 now onto behavior.

🎭 they would both be very physically affectionate with you. Between discord pulling you into cuddles every second and bill wanting you to hug and kiss him (which is him making you kiss his eyeball) you pretty much never get a break from them.

👁️ personal space? Nope don't know her.

👁️ they don't treat you that bad though, but their methods are.... questionable.

🎭 they are not as controlling as they would be other wise since they already control everything that surrounds them. Between the never ending party and the absolute disaster that is outside you really have no choice but to be where they can see you.

👁️ since not every being there isn't the friendliest...

👁️ they would never allow anything to hurt you but their just taking extra measures.

🎭 if you were to somehow escape, whether it be another universe or just running out of the pyramid, they're franic

👁️ bill's pissed and yelling at discord for being ignorant and discord is rolling his eyes at him

👁️ the reason you probably escaped because they were fighting

🎭 let's just hope they don't find you...

"hey sunspot! You like me more right~?"

"tch...don't flatter yourself, they obviously like me best. Right darlin'?"

">:/ "

👁️ this rivalry shall last forever...