#bill would eat ford alive

[inquirewithbillcipher]

Book of Bill

Got my copy- and as expected I am utterly obsessed!

Will be attempting to do some AU art of the lovely quotes from this marvelous work of fiction we have been blessed with!

What did you guys think?

-Spooki

[thehecklingmouse]

the implications of this are driving me nuts.

[nikothewolfboi]

Bro book of bill has me needing the theraprism

[onioety]

Chaotic doodles ft my human Bill design. Yes he's a twink, I'm sorry, self portrayal.

[vaguely-humanoid-form]

his ass is NOT listening

[imminent-danger-came]

I like billford. I think it's canon. I think bill is ford's toxic romantic ex. But if I say im fascinated by their unhealthy toxic relationship (romantic) instead of (platonic) then I'm an abuse apologist

LOL you doing okay anon. If it makes you feel better they compel me either way

[cl0wnkestra]

Sixer it would eat you alive

remember how bill possessed ford that one time

[milkymars]

Everything we know about Bill Cipher's past so far

His home was called Euclydia and it was entirely two dimensional. ("Flat minds in a flat world with flat dreams.")

Bill was unique among his people because he had a mutation that allowed him to see the third dimension. This can mean that either a) Euclideans don't have eyes and Bill is the only one who had one or b) if they did have eyes, he literally had a third eye.

Bill's parents were most likely named Scalene and Euclid. Entering either of their names into the computer gives the prompt LIFE FORM NOT FOUND. Bill is stated to only draw red and blue triangles in art therapy, so those were probably their appearances.

From the code JUSTFITIN, you get this colour-coded poem:

Rock a bye billy Please don’t you cry It’s not your fault You have that strange eye Stay safe with mommy You’ll never fall And we’ll always love you Sharp angles and all

Bill says that everyone in Euclydia loved him. However, it's more likely that he was feared because of his mutation and talk of a third dimension. Bill has said numerous times that love and fear are the same, and if you enter WELLWELLWELLBEING into the computer:

Bill's parents took him to a doctor to help suppress his vision of the third dimension. This has been discovered through the codes on the silly straw page:

Fussy eater, baby Billy / Wouldn't drink unless it's silly The doctor says three sips a day / Will make the visions go away Eye doctor of a different kind / Who wants to make his patient blind Twisted out of shape after the kill / The ghosts of his family are haunting him still

Bill is responsible for the Euclidean massacre. Reversed audio on the website says that "the sky is on fire", and when Bill talks about liberating his dimension, his eye shows a fiery landscape too. Though he claims to have liberated them both in Weirdmageddon and the transmission with Time Baby, he is regretful and misses home. If you type in EVENHISLIESARELIES, you get a transcript of one of his sessions in the theraprism.

And from the axolotl's poem in Curse of the Time Pirate's Treasure:

When he tells Ford about his home dimension, he says that it was destroyed by a monster. And when Ford says that he could seek out the monster and get revenge on it, Bill replies: "Sixer, it would eat you alive." Bill also says that if he tries to talk about the day Euclydia was destroyed, there's a loud buzzing in his ears and he blacks out for 30 seconds. Still, he tells others that he freed everyone and that they are grateful for it. Until he gets drunk and starts calling out for his mom, asking her where she went...

[monstrousmuse]

This moment was so cathartic...

Bill was the one who told Ford not to trust anyone.

[anistarrose]

I'd like to propose a dark horse candidate for the most interesting line in The Book of Bill. And it's this near-unreadable, seemingly one-off joke from the "Skin" page:

[ID: tiny text reading: "Help! This is not Bill Cipher. My name is Grebley Hemberdreck of Zimtrex 5. I'm one of thousands of beings Bill has devoured over trillions of years whose souls are now trapped inside him. You have to free me! It's horrible in here. He just keeps playing the song "Good Vibrations" by Marky Mark on an endless loop. Please, please, this is not a joke! The Zimtrexians were once a proud and mighty people, but now our spirits long for release from this..." End ID.]

Okay, so Bill devours souls who then live out a horrible existence inside him. That's just some typical and expected Bill behavior, right? Nothing to be shocked by? Maybe not, but one thing jumps out at me... and of all things, it's the way that Bill keeps playing that Beach Boys parody (correction provided by @fexalted: no, not in fact a Smiley Smile parody, but a real song!) on loop.

Because in The Book of Bill, there's a recurring motif of characters playing music for a very specific reason: to repel an unwanted presence inside their head. This is what Elias Inkwell, and later Ford, did with the "It's A Small World" parody — they tried to keep Bill out of their brains. Or, metaphorically... to drown out his voice.

[ID: a Journal 3 page with a cassette taped inside. It's titled: "The World Is Small Ever After for Always." Ford writes: "If it's war you want, it's war you'll get! If you want to torture me? I'll torture you back!" End ID.]

That doesn't necessarily mean that Bill finds the voices of devoured souls to be troubling, let alone downright haunting, does it? Well... not quite on its own. But there's a "color" code on the page about TV static that says a lot:

[ID: a code consisting of colorful squares, translated to letters that spell out: "he never sleeps he never dreams but somehow still he hears their screams." End ID] (screenshot courtesy of @fexiled)

The context of the page implies these "screams" come to Bill especially when he listens to TV static, and the broader context of the book implies that these are the screams of his destroyed home dimension, Euclydia. Therefore, not necessarily those of the souls he devoured, from Zimtrex 5 and possibly other dimensions.

Except... do those two things really have to be mutually exclusive?

The beings that Bill devoured were accumulated over "trillions" of years, plural, according to Grebley. In Weirdmageddon 1, Bill claims to have resided in the Nightmare Realm for precisely "one trillion" years. So the "devouring" habit probably extends back even further than his time in the Nightmare Realm...

Enter @acetyzias, pointing out a very conspicuous word — and one of the only uncensored words — from Bill's description of destroying his home dimension:

[ID: the word "mandibles". End ID.]

Oh, and how does Bill describe the "monster" that destroyed his home to Ford, when Ford asks about revenge?

[ID: Journal excerpt reading: "Sixer, it would eat you alive." End ID.]

For a long time, Bill's destruction of his home has been associated with fire, even when the story's told by Bill himself. But through the way the book characterizes Bill's guilt — and characterizes how the consequences of what he's done remain lurking deep inside him — I think The Book of Bill lays out the hints for another motif: devouring.

And, well, when it comes to how Bill destroys things... it wouldn't be without precedent.

[ID: screenshot of Bill in Weirdmageddon 3, taking a bite out of the Earth. End ID.]

[darlingdaisyfarm]

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ riding Ford and getting multiple orgasms out of him 

author note: a little request from ao3 “Reader (by the request of Bill) riding Ford and getting multiple orgasms out of him, basically typical overstimulation stuff? :]” 

tags: nsfw, p in v, riding, overstimulation, praise and degrading, triangle!Bill, tendrils

little bonus to this fic

It’s not just about the way he looks at you when you’re close, or how he touches you like he’s unsure if he deserves it. It’s the little things, those soft gasps he lets slip when you press your lips to his skin as you tease him, the way his hands tremble when you pull him closer, whispering praises in his ear. 

Tonight, though, you want more than just the sweetness. You want him broken, to see the desperation in his eyes, to hear him beg. You want to take your time, savour him, consume him whole. It’s not just about pleasure; it’s about watching Stanford fucking Pines fall apart, piece by piece, under your touch. 

He’s always been the reserved one, the serious one, always ready to protect you at all costs, the intellectual, the scientist who can’t seem to let go of his fears and doubts. But with you, Ford is different. He lets go of his mask, just a little, and it makes you want him even more. 

You start slow, leaning close, kissing his beautiful lips with a tenderness that quickly turns into something deeper as you climb into his lap. It takes Ford’s breath away, and you pull him closer, your hands caressing his chest, guiding him onto his back. 

“Relax,” you murmur, kissing the corner of his mouth, then trailing your lips along his jawline, the scratch of his stubble against your skin making you smile. His chest rises and falls sharply beneath your palms, and you can feel his heart racing, how it betrays his nerves.

“Darling. . .” dear god, his voice is already trembling, his nails digging into your skin just enough to show he’s trying to hold back. But you know it’s only a matter of time before he crumbles. Ford lets out a quiet sound as you kiss him again, this time deeper, your tongue coaxing his lips apart.

You move to his neck, lips pressing delicate kisses along the curve of his throat. He tilts his head back, letting you explore, giving you more space and skin to mark. “You’re so beautiful like this,” you whisper, dragging your tongue over the spot where his pulse thrums wildly captivating beneath his skin.

He shudders as you nip gently. “Darling, sweetheart. . .” Ford’s always-so-calm voice is now already broken with anticipation, and it makes you proud of yourself. “you’re. . . quite bold tonight, aren’t you?” he smiles awkwardly.

“Bold? Sweetheart’s not bold, IQ. She’s fucking feral. Look at her, climbing all over you like she’s about to eat you alive!” Bill’s voice cuts through Ford’s mind like a razor. 

Ford groans softly, tilting his head back, arching as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, flicking your tongue out to taste the sensitive skin there and lick the little bites you made. “Y-you don’t need to rush, love,” he stammers, though the way his cock throbs beneath you tells a different story. 

“Oh, Sixer, would you relax? You’ve got a total bombshell in your lap and you’re too busy being a nerd! Just sit back and let ’er take the reins, huh?”

You laugh softly, pressing your hips down just enough to make him gasp. “Rush? But I’ve been thinking about this all day.” 

“Christ, nerd, she’s fucking desperate! You’d better not disappoint her, though that’d be hilarious.”

Ford flinches, his hands tightening their hold on you, but you soothe him, threading your fingers into his graying hair. “Hey,” you say softly, calming him with a kiss to his temple. “It’s just us tonight, okay? Let me take care of you. I want to make you feel good.”

Ford knows you aren’t alone, but he nods, letting himself sink further into your warm touch. 

The kisses grow deeper, more demanding, your tongue sliding against his as you press your body closer, feeling him hard and throbbing beneath you, so needy already. You grind down against him, a slow roll of your hips that makes him gasp, his head tipping back into the pillows. 

“Darling,” he chokes out, “y-you don’t have to— ahh. . .”

“Shhh,” you soothe, your hands running down his chest, caressing his pretty scars gently, feeling the tension in his body. “let me love you, Ford.”

And with that, you kiss your way lower, down his collarbone, leaving marks as you go. Your fingers find his belt, and he stiffens beneath you.

“Don’t be nervous,” you giggle, kissing another scar on his chest as you slowly undo the buckle. “I’ll be gentle.” 

“That’s pathetic, Sixer. Don’t tell me you’ll cum before she even gets your pants off.” 

He can’t even speak, just nod and watch you with desperation written all over his face as you free his cock from the confines of his pants. Poor man squirms beneath you, all six fingers sliding over your body, unsure of what to do. But you feel like heaven and he could stay like this forever.

Ford’s cock springs free, and he exhales sharply at the sudden exposure. His painfully hot length makes contact with the cool air, and it’s all too much, too fast. He’s achingly hard, his shaft twitching against his stomach, already leaking from how worked up he is. The veins bulge slightly beneath his skin, a visual testament to his desperation. You bite your lip, unable to hide your smile as you run your thumb over the sensitive tip, spreading the bead of precum. His entire body jerks under your touch, hips bucking helplessly as a strangled cry escapes him. 

“Oh, come on, Stanford. You’re shaking already? She’s barely touched you!”

“Please, please don’t stop, I need more. . . ahh, ahnn. . .” Ford’s head falls back.

You give him what he wants. Ford's cock twitches helplessly in your grip as you wrap your fingers around his thickness, stroking him slowly from base to tip. Your thumb brushes over the sensitive, leaking tip again and you smirk. “You’re so hard,” you murmur, admiration lacing your voice as Ford’s moans fill the room. His hips buck upward, driven by desperate need.

“Oh, this is gonna be interesting. Place your bets, sweetheart! Two thrusts? One? How long before Sixer cums like the pathetic man he is?”

Ford whimpers, the sound breaking and soft, so damn apologetic. It only makes you want to ruin him more. And Ford wants it, he wants all of it, all of you.

He shudders, his hands gripping the sheets in a futile attempt to hold onto control. But it’s slipping away fast. “Darling, please, please—”you cut him off with a kiss, your lips crashing into his and swallowing his moans. Your hand continues stroking him, never relenting, only giving him more pleasure.

“God, Ford,” you whisper against his lips, pulling away just enough to watch his needy beautiful face. “You’re so big. . . I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

Ford’s eyes flutter open, locking onto yours. God, he looks wrecked already, lips trembling, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide with desire.

“Aw, look at you two lovebirds. Makes me sick. No, really, keep going, I’m enjoying the show.”

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Does that feel good?” you coo, your grip tightening around his aching cock.

“Y-yes,” he whines helplessly. “so good! oh goddd—” the proof of it lies in the way his whole body trembles, his thighs tense beneath you, and your hand slick with his leaking precum. He thrusts up into your grip and he’s losing it. 

But it’s not enough for you. You need more. Your free hand slides down to your own heat, tugging your panties aside. You spread yourself open for him, letting him see everything, how wet you are, how your pussy clenches on nothing, dripping and desperate. “Look at me, Ford. Look at what you do to me.” 

Ford’s eyes snap open at your words, and the sight nearly undoes him. His cock jerks in your hand, more precum spilling onto your fingers. “Honey, you’re s-so beautiful. I— I love you so much. . .” 

“Touch me,” you demand, though it comes out as a plea when you guide one of his six-fingered hands between your thighs. His fingers tremble as they slide against your wet folds. Another groan tears from his throat when he feels how soaked you are.

“Right here,” you beg, pressing his fingertips to your clit. A soft moan escapes you as he begins to circle it, biting his lip.

“At least pretend you know what you’re doing, Sixer. Fake it for her sake!”

Ford’s long fingers move tentatively at first, spreading your wetness. “You’re so wet,” he stutters in awe.

“For you, Ford, only for you,” you whisper, grinding against his hand. 

Ford’s touch grows bolder with every needy sound you make, his thumb finding just the right pressure on your puffy clit. Two fingers slide lower, teasing your dripping entrance. He swallows thickly, his gaze locked on yours as his long digits press into you. Ford curls his fingers inside, brushing that perfect spot that makes you cry out, your walls fluttering around him.

His cock throbs in your other hand, twitching, begging to feel your pussy around him. Pearls of cum drip down his length, making everything so deliciously messy. Your thumb rubs over the sensitive tip in rhythm with the way you ride his hand and it’s too much for him. 

“Darling, please. I— I need to be inside you. Pleasepleaseplease. . .”

You smile as another soft moan escapes your lips. Leaning down to kiss him again, swallowing his desperate mewls, you line his cock with your pussy. The thick, leaking tip presses against your dripping entrance, twitching there, so hot and ready to fill you.

“Do you want this?” you tease, letting the head of his cock slip just barely inside. 

“Ye-yes!” Ford gasps, his hips jerking upward. “Please, love! I’ll do anything. Just please—” 

You don’t make him wait any longer because yourself can’t too. Slowly, you lower yourself onto him, feeling the delicious stretch as you sink down, inch by inch. Your pussy takes him in, wetness welcoming him, the thickness of him stretching you in the most perfect way, leaving you breathless as you take all of him. Your walls flutter around his cock, gripping him tight and you both let out matching moans when he fills you completely.

Ford’s reaction is fucking beautiful. His hands fly to your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as his head falls back, a choked sob spilling from his lips. “Oh god! I can feel everything, fuck, love, you’re so tight, so warm. . .”

The moment you start to move, Ford’s entire body goes rigid, his breath breaking into soft, helpless gasps as he just lays there and lets you ride him. He tries to hold it together, but it’s useless. You’re too much, too perfect, too wet and tight for him, and he doesn’t even know what to do with himself anymore.

And then he’s coming. His hips buck uncontrollably, his cock throbbing as he spills inside you, a pathetic whine leaving his lips. 

You freeze, your eyes wide as you stare down at him, suddenly aware of his warm seed inside you. Ford. . . did he just. . .?

“Oh my fucking god, you actually came?! Holy shit, Sixer, I wasn’t serious about the two-thrust thing, but damn! You’re even more pathetic than I thought!” 

Ford’s face burns with shame as he buries it in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I-I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“What’s wrong? Oh, nothing at all, Fordsy. Couldn’t even last five seconds, huh? That’s embarrassing.”

You can’t help but laugh, though it’s a soft, affectionate sound unlike Bill’s. “Ford,” you say gently, cupping his cute face and tilting it up to meet your gaze. “It’s okay. Really. It just means you felt really good, honey. That’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“Nah, you should be ashamed of yourself, IQ. But judging by that stupid look on your face, you’re too far gone to care.”

Oh, sweet heavens, he thinks, you’re too kind to him. Your hands slide up his chest, tangling in his hair as you kiss him again, your lips soft and loving, taking all his embarrassment away. His head is thrown back against the pillows, his eyes glassy, lips trembling like he’s trying to speak but can’t string a single coherent word together. 

“You feel— you feel, ahh. . . so fucking good, Ford,” you breathe as you bounce on him. Ford’s eyes roll back into his head, and he groans. You lean down, stroking his cheek with a tender hand, kissing him sweetly. “Shhh, you’re doing so good, baby,” you whisper, rolling your hips again, feeling his cock pulse as you grind down on him. 

“She’s fucking herself stupid on your cock, and you’re still useless. Can’t even thrust properly anymore, can you? Just lying there, letting her ride you like the limp little mess you are.”

Ford’s hands twitch at your waist like he wants to protest but can’t find the strength. “Pussy’s s-so good,” he mumbles, his words slurred as though he’s drunk. “so tight, so warm. . .”

“Jesus fucking Christ, listen to yourself,” Bill cackles. “You’re out here worshipping pussy like it’s the first time you’ve ever seen one. All that brainpower, and you’re fucking useless when there’s a pretty cunt on top of you!”

Ford only whimpers, his face burning from Bill’s cruel mocking, because himself knows its truth, his cock twitches inside you at the words. Despite the shame, he thrusts up helplessly, chasing more, trying to reach deeper, even though he’s so far gone. 

“Does it feel good, Ford?” you murmur, leaning down to kiss his nose.

“Yesyesyes! yes! so fucking good,” he gasps, bucking his hips whenever you pull yourself up. “I c-can’t, oh, love, I don’t think I can last—” 

“Look at you,” Bill sneers. “All it takes is a tight cunt and a few rolls of her hips. What happened to the big, smart scientist? Where’s Mr. Genius now, huh?”

“It’s okay, Ford. You don’t have to hold back.” 

He can’t stop the whining that spills from his lips, so damn loud, his head tipping back to expose his throat. You seize the opportunity, pressing your lips to his pulse, kissing and sucking until his gasps dissolve into desperate cries. His cock twitches violently inside you, and then his entire body shudders again when he cums inside you with a pleading moan. 

“Oh god,” he whimpers, the realisation hitting him hard. His hands tremble on your waist as he looks up at you, his vision blurry. “I-I’m sorry! I couldn’t—” 

You don’t bother with words. Instead, you kiss him deeply, your hips still moving. Ford lets out a sharp, choked sound as you continue to ride him, your pussy clenching greedily around his now oversensitive cock. 

“W-wait, I. . . oh, fuck, love, wait. . .” 

But you don’t stop. 

“That’s it, you can give me more, can’t you? I know you can, Ford. Please.” 

Ford cries out from the overstimulation, helpless and weak to the way how your pussy swallow all what he gives you. His hands fall uselessly to the bed as you take complete control, but his cock staying rock hard, buried deep inside you. Each slow roll of your hips makes his tip brush against your cervix, what also makes you moan loudly.

“Oh m-my god,” you grind harder, obsessed with how heavenly his cock fills you. “look at you, you’re such a mess. . .”

Ford can’t even respond. He’s too lost in the way your pretty pussy feels, pulling him deeper, clenching around him tight. His mouth hangs open, breathless, his trembling fingers dig into your hips, your ass, trying to pull you closer, but the effort is weak, desperate. 

“I. . . oh, I c-can’t,” he stutters your name. “I— I can’t hold on. . . please, please, I— I can’t, just. . .”

Bill chuckles. “My little slut is so goddamn desperate he can’t even form a fucking sentence.”

You smirk, pressing your body closer to Ford’s, grinding into him in time with his shallow thrusts. His cock twitches inside you again, his body practically begging for another release but he feels like nothing might come out.

“I love seeing you like this,” you purr. “all you can think about is cumming, isn’t it?” 

His eyes are glazed, he doesn’t try to answer, he just nods desperately, the sounds escaping his lips a garbled mess. 

“I. . . I need you, da-darling. Please, ahh, please! Don’t stop. God, don’t stop, please! Don’t stop. . . It feels so good, im so close!”

“Yes, let it all out, baby. Don’t hold back. You’re such a good boy for me, Ford.” 

“Yes, yes, please, too much!” his begging is broken, barely coherent, his words dissolving into needy little whimpers. “I need to. . . mhmm, need to cum inside you! nnghn, please, let me—” 

“Aw, isn’t that sweet? He’s so eager to fill you up, he doesn’t even care how pathetic he looks.”

“Yes,” you murmur, leaning down to capture Ford’s lips. “Please cum inside me, Ford, again. Please. . .”

And that’s how he comes again, so obedient. It slams into him like a tidal wave, his cock pulsing deep inside you, spilling into your womb again and again, filling you up, flooding your walls white. He’s not even sure if he has the strength left to moan, his throat is dry.

“Look at you. Shaking, crying, and cumming like it’s the only thing you know how to do. Now that’s the kind of Sixer I like.”

But you don’t stop. He can’t take much more, but you don’t give him a choice. You fuck him harder this time, harder than before, your body slapping against his with each thrust, the sounds of your bodies joining in perfect sync.

You feel his cum dripping out, pooling where your bodies are joined and it’s so dirty and messy there, but you keep moving, grinding against him, chasing your own release now, using Ford for your pleasure now. 

“Such a good boy,” you whisper, leaning down to kiss his temple. “You’re doing so well, Ford. I love you so much.” 

“Sweetheart,” Ford’s voice already hoarse. “I need you, I need you so bad, I— I can’t. . .”

Bill's triangular shape appears directly to Ford's left. “Told ya, two seconds and you’re already a fucking puddle. You’re sobbing and begging like a fucking whore. You like it, huh? You like being used like this?” 

Ford’s body is completely undone as he turns head to look at Cipher, his words barely intelligible. “Y-yes. . . yes. . . I’m a whore. . . love, please, I’m— I’m cumming again. . .”

Before he can finish, it hits him. His cock pulses inside you, spilling another load deep into your pussy. Ford cries out as you keep riding him, milking every last drop out of him. His hands weakly grip your hips, but his body is limp, overwhelmed by the force of his orgasm. 

You smile, feeling his warm liquid until it starts leaking out from how full you are. Leaning down, your lips brush his ear. “You like it, don’t you, Ford? Being so deep inside me, cumming inside me, filling me up. . . gosh, im so close too. . .”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Bill interrupts. “You two are useless. Let me show you how it’s done.”

Before either of you can react, his awfully slick, dark tendrils shoot out, snaking around your bodies. You gasp as one wraps around your thighs, while another slithers up to your clit, teasing the sensitive bundle with agonizing flicks. Another tendril brushes over your breasts, curling around them tightly before twisting and tugging at your nipples in agonising rhythm.

Ford isn’t spared, either. Tendrils wrap around his wrists roughly, pulling his arms above his head and pinning him to the bed, so he’s pretty useless beneath you as he’s forced to stay still, another tendril cups his balls, rolling and kneading them. Dark limb wraps around his torso, circling his nipples before pinching them sharply, then caressing. Ford lets out a broken cry, tears springing to his eyes from the overstimulation. 

“Look at you both,” Bill sneers and his voice is filled with nothing, but pure mockery. “a mewling little slut and a pathetic, whining mess of a man. Poor little humans can’t handle a bit of attention, huh? You’re both so fucking needy. You don’t even deserve this.”

You try to respond, try to form words, but all that escapes your lips is a whimper. The tendril on your clit vibrates suddenly, the slick, wet sound of your soaked pussy taking Ford in only fuels Bill’s mocking tone as he forces you to ride his six-fingered toy faster.

You can’t answer, you can’t think. All that matters is that pathetic whining mess called Ford beneath you, twitching and moaning, his body held immobile by Bill’s tendrils as you ride him, taking him deeper and deeper, feeling yourself close.

“Your cunt? Your cock? Your orgasms? Mine. Every last bit of you belongs to me.”

Your back arches, hands clawing at Ford’s chest to stabilise yourself, but it’s no use. The sensations are too much, your body too sensitive and overstimulated to fight back.

“Oh, please, it’s too much, B-Bill,” you manage to choke out, but even as you beg, your hips buck helplessly into the tendril, chasing the overwhelming pleasure despite the way your thighs shake. 

“Remember this moment, freaks, because you’ll never be able to fuck without thinking of me again.”

Ford isn’t faring any better, ruined by every flick of the tendrils on his nipples and the painful stimulation of his balls.

“B-Bill, my muse, please, stop, I can’t, I c-can’t take it,” he’s breathless, his voice breaks on every syllable. His words are desperate, but his body betrays him, his cock twitching as the tendrils toy with him. “I’ll. . .I’ll cum again, im gonna. . .”

“Oh, you’ll cum again, alright,” demon laughs. “And again. And again. Don’t think I’m letting either of you off easy.”

Bill shifts his attention to you, the tendrils around your clit and breasts tightening, pulling your nipples painfully before switching to gentle, torturous strokes. Your cries fill the room and Bill’s laughter only grows louder. 

“And you, beautiful,” his glowing yellow form leans closer to your face. “You’re no better. Moaning like a bitch in heat while I play with you. Can’t even decide if you want me to stop or go harder, huh? You’re just a messy little thing like him, aren’t you?”

You try to glare at him, but your head falls back with a loud moan as the vibrations on your sensitive clit intensify. The pleasure so sharp it borders on pain. “I’m gonna! oh fuck, I’m gonna cum! Bill, just let me cum!”

“Already, baby? Does it feel that good, having me play with your little clit while poor Sixer can barely keep up?” Cipher appears right in front of you way and his tendrils slow their movements just enough to pull you back from the edge, leaving you trembling and whining in frustration, the orgasm just out of reach when you was so ready for it.

Ford sobs as he feels your cunt grip on him. “B-Bill, please, please, oh god, it’s too much, I c-can’t hold on, please, let me cum, I need to— please! It-it hurts!”

“‘Need to’? Oh, how cute! You need to cum, Sixer? But you wanted to be a pathetic, trembling mess, no? Then I’ll make sure you fucking stay one.” Ford cant believe he’s being denied to orgasm now, when his balls are so tight he might explode. The tendrils on his nipples twist sharply.

You’re no better as your body helpless against these Bill’s disgusting things that tease and torment you mercilessly too. “P-please, I can’t take it anymore, I need to cum, please, Bill, please!” you cry.

Bill leans back, materializing a glass of wine for himself, laughing loudly as he watches. “Listen to yourselves. Begging me like the pathetic little toys you are. God, you’re both so fucking easy to break, it’s even boring.” 

His glowing yellow form looms over you both when his voice lowers. 

“Don’t worry, freaks, I’m not stopping until I’ve ruined you completely.”

[dansemacabre]

i’ve been thinking about “sixer, it would eat you alive” since i read it and. man. every layer you peel back makes it worse. im not a bill apologist but. shit

if you (1) take it at face value, it paints bill as an apologetic murderer in his single (and maybe sole) open moment of regret. he doesn’t let his walls down often- only with ford do we even get to see the remnant of his galaxy, see the “actual remorse” ford describes, get just a hint of his origins. but he does it, because he thinks ford should know.

if you (2) take it from ford’s point of view, as something he committed to journal three, like. wow. imagine being so committed to a being that you’d hunt down and kill the monster that destroyed his home, only to (assumably) figure out later that that being was the monster. the small moments of trust, the “good times”, are so key to manipulation. how long did ford hold onto that one shred of vulnerability? no wonder ford stayed for as long as he did. in his eyes, bill was a survivor. ford wanted to survive too.

(slight tw below for unreality- any time i mention our reality, i mean “our reality” as a narrative device used in the book of bill as a proxy for the idea of bill being in our reality, since he can’t actually be in our reality. all of this is a fictional theory about a show/book with fictional contents!)

but if you (3) remember that “even his lies are lies” and absolutely Nothing bill says should be trusted. Whoo boy. if i read tbob right the book itself is being created in the theraprism (even tho it shows up with the ciphertologists at some point? idk that’s a whole other post). it’s meant to show what the reader wants to see; it manifests in our reality as what the collective fandom wants to see. so if we want to see truth, if we want to see where bill ended up and who he actually is, there’s a non-zero chance that the whole interaction was a complete fabrication.

imagine bill, stuck in the actively harmful, probably earth-illegal theraprism, once again being forced to be “fixed” and molded into something more palatable, being forced to conform no matter how much it hurts. (i know natural uncontrollable mutation ≠ just so much murder and destruction and chaos, but. you can’t ignore the similarities. bill has obviously been thinking about those silly straws.)

he looks back on everything that went wrong, back on his relationship with ford, back through every dimension where he wins. would that one moment, that one truth amid centuries of lies, have saved him from purgatory? if he had just been open? shown his damage? maybe he did think of his parents, or his henchmaniacs (especially the oracle). people who he might have once opened up to. maybe he just wanted to open up to someone again.

so in his own weird way, stuck in a cell, he reshaped reality again. in this reality, for this fleeting moment, he had been someone worth believing. and ford had listened, hell, ford had wanted to help. looking back, knowing how he treated ford, knowing how ford ended up because of it, maybe bill would have said the most honest thing he’d ever told ford: i am the monster, i am not worth your time or belief, and i will eat you alive.

[fredddoloso]

/GORE WARNING

'Sixer, it would eat you alive.'

i really fw the concept of cannibalism as a metaphor of love in media and i just felt like Bill would, in fact, eat Ford alive :3

[jellyskink]

Bill...did you ever consider you're killing him slowly? Human bodies can only take so much, and he's elderly. I'm disabled personally, so I know how it feels to have a body that fights to be alive even when treated RIGHT. So if you're doing this stuff to him....don't you realize he's eventually not gonna be able to take it? Either suicide or he's so injured and or sick it's done. Humans shouldn't eat raw meat, they puke and can get fatally ill. I'm just sayin' you're being kinda an idiot for someone all powerful.

Bill would never actually just COOK Ford’s food. And yes, while there ARE actually supplements in the kibble (the Unknowable Nutrients), Ford's gut biome is still all kinds of fucked up

[hypo-critic-art]

“Sixer, it would eat you alive.”

Bill and Ford, predator and prey, praying mantis and a moth…

I was inspired by a fantastic concept @the-gay-prometheus introduced me to, feel free to read the screenshots for really interesting notes (also provided by Jay!)

Fun fact: Bill-mantis and Ford-moth are inspired by real bug species! They’re represented by Spiny Flower Mantis and Virginia Creeper Sphinx :]

[misteria247]

*inhales gently*

I love the Reverse Portal Au because it's an au that's so full of angst potential. Mainly Stanford angst. Like let me explain-

If Stan went into the portal instead of Ford, it would have forced him to come to terms with some things. A bit of a reap what you sow and you don't know what you have till it's gone kind of thing. It's easy to remain angry at someone when you can bury your head in the sand so to speak. When you subconsciously know that essentially that person's relatively safe. You feel like you have all the time in the world to hold onto things like grudges.

Till you're reminded that nothing is timeless.

That's something Ford would be reminded of as soon as Stanley disappears into the portal. It's like a bucket of ice water being thrown on him because it's suddenly a horrifying reality that Stanley, his twin, his little brother could possibly be dead. There one minute, then gone the next. And it's then that grudges and old hurts suddenly have no meaning because despite everything Stanley is still his brother and now he's gone.

Ford would never hear him laugh again. Would never see him and his smile. Wouldn't hear his jokes or feel his arm on his shoulders in a hug anymore. Everything that makes Stanley, Stanley would be gone in the blink of an eye. And that realization would eat Ford alive. And the kicker???

It'd be his fault. (Kinda).

After all, he built the machine. He's the one who trusted Bill over his friend. He's the one who called Stan to come to Gravity Falls. It's like a sick, twisted joke that he in his anger and delirium, while trying to protect the world and by extension Stan, would be the one to do the metaphorical killing blow. And it's after this horrible thing, and months and months of trying to figure out how to help Stanley that he's forced to think about everything. From the argument 10 years ago to the tragedy that Ford unwittingly played a role in. And he regrets so much, regrets that he never got to fix things with his twin. That he never got to sit with him and enjoy his company and share more memories with him.

That he never got the chance to tell Stan that he loves him and that he's sorry.

It's this experience that makes him feel the loss, because it's different being angry when the other party's there and in one piece. It's a whole other ball game when they're gone. And now that Stan's gone, Ford realizes that he took Stan for granted because all he can do is think about things and grieve at the unfairness of everything. He spends the next 3 decades reaping what he sown and it drives him nearly mad with guilt, regret and grief. And then there's Bill who'd fucking feed those feelings in his cruel unusual way, tormenting Stanford and letting him know that his brother's demise was all Ford's doing. Even though it was an accident.

This is only just a little bit of what I'm trying to put down here do you see my vision?????? Do you see why I'm unhinged with the potential here?????