#great time to maybe look into ciphers

[ckret2]

Chapter 73 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!)

[grimoirguestbook]

Book of Bill Website Codes

(Organized by category with notes)

Here's my list of inputs that work on the website :)

Hopefully the read more works like I think it does and I don't accidentally spoil anybody

That being said by clicking read more you will see All of the codes I have found so far

Please be mindful and try not to spoil anybody else with this information. So please be careful if reblogging

I got everything I have collected/found on here, it's a bit messy right now but After I take a small break I'll reorganize and add notes but for now everything's on here, please so check out the posts linked in the log as once I lost all leads I looked to their post for other inputs :)

Also feel free to put any you know of that Aren't on here in the replies I'm sure there's some missing

I will be updating as I find more so check back in if you can! :)

Thank you!

They'll be categorized by

Neat Tv text- Nothing special the tv just gets some text to it

Tab pages-brings you to another tab/website

Audio/video- Audio/video clip plays

Readables- A picture will pop up on screen that you can read

Printables- You can print them :D!

Other- Hard to categorize

Note:

If an * is next to a name that means that you can get different results for the same prompt

(Any personal notes will be in parenthesis)

-> An arrow means that the Passwords are found in the previous page

ex- Page with code that translates to "dork"-> Dork

Slashes/mean/that/any/of/the/prompts/listed/will/take/you/to/the/same/page

Blue text with an underline is a link! Haha! would you look at that! it works!

Will Keep this updated as I find more and will Note the logs at the end of this post

?????

For the mason page anagrams I know WHO they are I just don't know WHAT to do with them, i know it says cryptogram codex at the bottom i think i have to do something with the anagram results but I'm unsure what that is. Stanford Pines Stanlie Pines Gideon Charles Gleeful Preston Northwest Pacifica Elisa Northwest

Notes to Dipper Prompt: (Unsure why- Maybe going to Blind eye page and blurring it but changes from dipper being told to stare at the sun to "I THINK ITS WORKING! STARE HARDER! HARDER!" and the page looking burnt I Think it has to do with how many input codes you enter, It now says "you've almost solved it" and is even more burnt than before, it is now full black)

Neat Tv text-

Pines

Blendin

*Triangle

Axolotl

Ducktective

Book of Bill

TJ Eckleburg (Great Gatsby)

Nothing

Something

*Ciphertology

Deer Teeth

Scalene

Scrimbles

No

Fortnite/skibidi/ohio/rizz/crypto/elon/gyatt/Doge

Life

Death

Portal

Question

Answer

Euclid

*Well Well Well Being

Reality

The Universe

Journal 1

Journal 2

Journal 3

Theyll see/They'll all see/I see

Filbrick

Disney/Disneyland/Mickey Mouse

CIA/FBI/NSA

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

Season 3

Season 2

Season 1

Caryn

Euclydia

Skeleton

Who are you

Burnside

Family matters

When will I die

Multilevel mark/caesaratbashvigenere

Scientology

Easter egg

Sevral times

oh yes they both

Am i Blanchin

Bye gold

Youre insane

History

Hologram

Scalene

Euclid

Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Text Chain (You get questions who's answer is another password)

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> 333 sundapple lane cozy creek IL 60714-94611-> MutliLevel mark->emmaline butternubbins->Dispense my treat

What i thought it was (with answer sources):

Riddle->Yes -> Mountain Dont -> Lyre Liar -> Harolds Ramblings -> Union Made -> 29121239168518 -> Grebley Hemberdreck -> Rat -> 3466554 -> Tinsel Snake -> Torture Mentally -> Xgqrthx -> Titans Blood -> Owl Trowel

Answers found in TBOB- Don't Know, NA, Mcguckets dream page, Medieval page, Anti-Cipher Section- tonic page, Anti Cipher Section- Newspaper, Top Secret page, Textbook page- Skin, Dark Ages Page, Anti Cipher Section-Epilogue, A winter break- footprints page, Book of Bill Cover options page, Never trust a wizard page, Have you dreamed this fellow ad (references informercial in show)

Tab pages-

Abuelita

Dippy Fresh

Alex Hirsch/Alex/Hirsch

*Stan/Stanley (his outfit in ebay searches plus a READABLE with SICK music mind you-Check readable section for more info)

Grunkle Stan

*Gideon (second option unlocked after fully "mableizing" the room)

Waddles

Mcgucket/ Old man McGucket/Fiddleford

Bill/Cipher/LLIB/LLIBREHPIC

Bill Cipher/Rehpic

Zyler (Goes to same place as Craz)

Craz (Goes to same place as Zyler)

Toby Determined

Gravity Falls

Mystery Shack

Not a phase

Blanchin

Peak

Cray Cray

Fixinit1

Meow

Fuck alex/Fuck you alex

Globnar

Monster

Audio/video-

Babba/Discogirl

*Gideon (unlocked after fully "mabelizing" the room)

Tad Strange

Pinata (DEFINATELY WORTH WATCHING)

Vallis Cineris (Found on wall when lightning strikes)

Hey Nerd

Weird (Love him)

Spookemups/Spooky/Scary

That's just a/Theory/Gametheory/Matpat (<3)

One Eyed King-> Naitsuaf (Morse Code) ( early years page)

Forget the past

Im still on your mind

Dorito/Nacho

Just fit in

Rubberhose

Love/Boyfriend

Hectoring

Conspiracy

God/Frillium/Help me

Burned inside

Kook

Kubrick

Small/audio log/music (nothing showed up at first, turned off tv and strange audio played, needs to be reversed)

L is real 2401 (soos my boy)

Readables-

Mason (Dippers real name)

*Dipper (personal notes in ???- keep opening the card to get different results)

Pacifica-> PlatinumPaz

Ford/Standford/Sixer

Wendy

Robbie (def worth a look IMO)

Soos-> Pinata

Cursed (Translated from candle in background)

Ad Astra Per Aspera

Blind Eye->Theyll see (Will blur if clicked on, cannot un-blur, may change dipper?)

Weirdmageddon

Lies

Sorry

Booberry (Decoded from popsicle stick)

Even his lies are lies (Front paper)

Tantrum ( code on Bills Mugshot page)

Suck it Merlin

Shave your Grandma (leads to dippy fresh page)

Baby Bill/baby/lalalalala/daddy/mommy

Owl Trowel

Hotxolotl->Seven eyes-> r34lity

Love ya bro

Fuck/Shit/Fuckyou/bitch/slut/sex

Baaaa-> Black Sheep

naitsuaf (click are you ready-> Sign "pleasure doing business with you -candle light turns blue- OR be a coward (losing sound effect plays)

oroborous-> Frillium

Glass sand beach

math/trigonometry/

horror/creepypasta

destruction is a form of creation

unreality

you can't kill an idea

virus

Occurremusiterum

*Stan (click multiple times to get-once there click "how he beat me several times)

Card

Theraprism

Dionarap->stod eht tcennoc

Printables-

Tyrone/Clone/Paperjam

Curse Wittebane (translates runes on page about witches)

Paper is just book skin ( BE WARNED: automatically downloads a photoshop file and crashses the cite)

Irregular (has code on it)

Divorce/breakup

Other-

Mabel (You get fun stickers and a popping sound :) )

*Giffany ( You put her name in multiple times and it forcibly downloads pictures of her and a text document to your computer, scared me a little Not gonna lie here)

Kings of New Jersey (downloads "secret code" font)

cryptogram codex (downloads cryptogram fonts)

dispense my treat-> Kook (downloads a bunch of cool wallpapers)

Log:

One hour after posting: Added 17 new words

Found by me: Booberry, Mountain Dont, Xgqrthx, titans blood, lyre liar, haralds ramblings, union made

Accidentally found by looking at a post: Sorry

Gifted by replier (Thank you!): MATPAT, yes, no, Fortnite, life, death, portal, question, answer

30 minutes after last update: 9 Words added

Found by me: Theraprism, 29121239168518, Grebley Hemberdreck, Rat, 3466554, Tinsel Snake, Torture Mentally, Fordtramarine, Gun (shocked that worked It was a joke- "bill cipher has A GUN")

Like THREEEEEEE ish hours later?

Found by me: one eyed king, well well well being, shave your grandma, paper is just book skin, even his lies are lies, forget the past, irregular, euclid, tantrum, suck it merlin

Like 12 hours later

Found by me: Reality, Baby Bill, Reality, The universe, Giffany (why is it two Fs, Blarg) They'll see, I'm still on your mind, Journal 1, Journal 2, Journal 3

Gifted to me by a replier (Thank you!): Owl Trowel

Idk- Later

Found by me: hotxolotl, lova ya bro, kings of new jersey, fuck, just fit in

Found on twitter(JasonRitter): Dorito, Blanchin'

Gifted to me by Replier(Thank you!): Gideon's option knowledge

Even MORE later:

Me: Seven eyes, r34ality, filbrick, disney, skibidy, rizz, ohio, love, cia, fbi, rubberhose, 333 sundapple lane cozy creek il 60714-94611, bahhhh, black sheep, naitsuaf, oroborous,theyll see, theyll all see Frillium, occuremusiterum (some of these i gave myself because i was really close but just missed a small detail/spelling)

Taken from here and Here Because I got stumped: Season 3, Season2 , Season 1, Glass shard beach, caryn, Euclydia, Peak, Theory, Cray Cray, Help me, mickey mouse, hectoring, divorce, breakup, skeleton, math, history, monster, gyatt, who are you, fixinit1, conspiracy, riddle, cryptogram codex, horror, creepypasta, trigonometry, god, boyfriend,baby, lalalalala, scary, trigonometry,just blendin, morality, burnside, family matters, when will i die, elon, multilevel mark, goodnight sally,paper jam, tourist trap,the duchess approves,shape, scientology, meow, nacho, crypto,sevral times,easter egg, oh yes they both, daddy, mommy, burned inside, destruction is a form of creation, i see, unreality, you can't kill an idea, am i blanchin, fuck alex, fuck you alex, fuck you, shit, bye gold, nsa, globnar,disneyland,kook, kuibrick,virus,that's just a, you're insane

Next day

Found online: Dionarap, stod eht tcennoc, dispense my treat

[spitdrunken]

man. still have NOT managed to get my hands on the book of bill because it's sold out literally everywhere over here, but have any of you seen the new 'how not to draw' vid on the disney youtube channel that features bill? it really got me thinking.

notes: fourth wall breaking, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, implied sexual content, implied mind control

it's heavily implied that the video takes place in a world where gravity falls is supposedly fictional, like our own. bill literally says he's going to break the fourth wall! because i'm a sucker for fourth wall breaks and characters being aware of their own fandom (to an extent), i simply just HAD to run with this scenario.

i just like the idea of 'you' being just a person, some totally, in the large scheme of things, insignificant human walking the earth. you have a tendency for escapism, perhaps. you have always been drawn to stories. you like gravity falls. maybe it was something you watched while you were younger and recently rewatched, or an interest that had never waned. regardless, bill cipher, charismatic and unapologetically evil villain that he is, is one of your favourites.

you doodle him on the edges of paper when you're supposed to be doing anything else. (regardless of anyone's artistic skills, it's not difficult to draw a triangle with a top hat and an eye, is it?) and in this world, you are hardly the only one who likes him, who, perhaps, ships himself with him, who thinks about him a lot. who makes drawings and writes or reads fic. you don't think it's all that unusual.

in a stroke of luck or, depending on how you look at it, the exact opposite, the universe's idea of a cosmic joke, you are the one to catch bill's eye. (it's, after all, much easier to infiltrate the dreams of someone who already has you on their mind. makes sense, doesn't it? a tentative, wavering link had been formed already.) there, in your dreams, he tells you what to say--triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium. meteforis venetisarium--and the next morning, you remember it clear as a memory.

you do it. for funsies. why wouldn't you? you don't expect it to actually work. he's a fictional interdimensional demon. why would it work? but much to your surprise, and horror, because surely a screw must've gotten loose for this to be happening, one of your little doodles has life blown to it. as a response to your summon, a tiny little bill cipher darts across your paper, alive but still confined.

(you've given him an in. now, he only has to take the crack you've opened for him, dig his fingers in, and tear it open.)

oh, he'll be funny! he'll be exactly what you thought of him. perhaps he even voices a line of dialogue you swore you wrote down somewhere days prior. yes, he's read whatever you wrote or read, whatever you looked at. he's keeping it himself for now. it's not easy to inflate his ego further, but you might have succeeded. rather than a meatbag, bill first looks upon you with the eye of someone presented with a puppy. fundamentally lesser, but capable of being something with the right training.

he urges you to make a deal with him and the promise he'll act out whatever fantasy you've been cooking up in that brain of yours, even if it's gross and weird and physically impossible!

he'll warp your dimension to make all of it possible!!! it's great!!! don't worry about it!!!!!!

…you don't do it. you don't touch the paper. you've seen the show, and you aren't stupid. bill nearly balks. he'd expected you to be the easiest mark of all time, but he suppose he forgot that even puppies have teeth. that's fine. he can work with this. because even though you have not let him in yet, and you refuse to shake his hand through the paper, you don't seperate yourself from him just yet.

you could oh so easily take the piece of paper he's on and throw it in the nearest shredder. or set him on fire. in you, he recognises lingering curiosity, and the excitement at having stood out, at being chosen, in one way or another. it's not hopeless yet.

he can play a bit of a longer game, then. he's been at this for a long, long time. he'll tolerate the paper he's on being folded into a little square and tucked into your breast pocket, granting him a view of your life and the world you're living in. (all the time, his hunger grows.) your decision not to throw him away ends up being your downfall. spending so much time with bill, letting him joke around with you, complaining about your problems… it takes a while for you to realise that, for a while now, he has not been speaking out loud anymore, but instead through your mind.

a connection that cannot be cut has been formed in between two of you.

on bill's part, he had thorougly expected to be bored. but perhaps it's your genuine interest in him, not the things he's offering, which he does not often see. (he's been down this road before. won't end well. but...) the sheer mundanity of your life that makes him wish he could twist and turn it all around. or just a random alignment of the stars. the heart doesn't always follow logic. in this scenario, at some point, bill realises that he has become genuinely invested in you, too. and at that point, you'll never manage to slip away. he's already dug in his heels in your mind far enough. you had no adequate protection.

he still wants to take over your world. he still wants to escape the discomforting flatness of the paper you've summoned him in. but, perhaps, you two could share that meatsack of a body of yours, before things get that far.

[bigfatbimbo]

helloooo surprise it’s the anon who requested Stanford hcs(and who also hates writing dom! male characters lol). Surprisingly, I’m here for Bill!

this is not so much a request as it is me just rambling and being curious about your thoughts, but what do you think of bill going into. . . subspace? is it even possible for him, would anything even be intense enough to get him so submerged into the moment like that? how would he even act? I wonder if he’d even enjoy it, since it could leave him feeling pretty out of control. . . maybe.

I’ll Give You Anything!

summary — subspace!Bill Cipher headcanons and drabbles

a/n — Hi anon! This is such a great question, and i’ve been itching to answer it. Also, feel free to mark yourself with an emoji next time!

⃤ The idea of Bill Cipher going into subspace intrigues me just as much, if not more, as the idea of him subbing in the first place. 

⃤ Let’s start off with the obvious: chances are, if he ever did, you wouldn’t remember.

⃤ To be in such a weak vulnerable state would most likely not be on purpose, so no matter how well you treat him, he’d probably always pluck the memory out of your head. 

⃤ As to whether the idea is even possible, that’s iffy. On one hand, human feelings are watered down sensations to him in the first place, although new and exciting, it’d take a lot to get him to even be a somewhat ‘mess.’ And even then he’d be fully conscious. 

⃤ On the other hand, a human sexual pleasure is probably a foreign and unexplored concept to him, honestly, as well as in his own body—not even sure it’s possible in his normal form—so it’s not crazy to say that certain sensations would have some sort of overwhelming pleasure. 

⃤ Although, even then it’s incredibly unlikely that he’d be submerged in such a deep euphoria, or let his guard down enough to even consider the idea. Even when you’re topping, he’s still a god and you’re not. 

⃤ I think this could change if the reader was a more powerful being. [i’ll elaborate if asked]

⃤ So let’s consider for a moment, what would Bill Cipher in subspace look like?

Mascara smudged from the beads of sweat dripping down his face, mouth stuck in a dreamy dazed smile. Still muttering something, as always, but just a tad whinier than usual, as breathy. 

How long has it been since he’s been taken care of? If he can just pluck the memory afterwards, then why not indulge. He’s earned it. Leaning back and fully whining for you, loudly wanting, no, needing more. 

He grabs for you absentmindedly, trying but failing to take note of the way you react. Surprise? No no.. he can barely tell now. Doesn’t matter as long as you keep doing what you’re doing to him. He thinks he cries something out, but he can’t hear.

New sensations, curiosity plagues him, as well as unsurmountable pleasure, and yet, self respect escapes him. It doesn’t matter now, if he’s still embarrassed after you’ve forgotten, he can always just showcase his power over you. Insurance. 

His mind fogs, and he becomes louder.

“I—i’ll give you anything, worlds, galaxies, the stars, just— ah— keep going!”

“Anything?” You purr.

He almost wishes you’d be able to remember him like this tomorrow. Almost.

[bitter-me]

Hello, if requests are open, can I ask [any twst characters you want] with a Bill or Dipper!Male!Reader ?

Have a great day ! And a good night !

The All Seeing Eye

Malleus Draconia | M. Reader as Bill Cipher

----------

"Remember! Reality's an illusion, the universe is a hologram, buy gold! Byeeee!"

----------

Malleus Draconia..

Quite the infamous name.

At this point, who doesn't know about the crown prince? He's one of the most powerful mages in the world! Despite that...

...just who in Twisted Wonderland hasn't heard of [Name] Cipher? The dream demon? Well apparently both Yuu and Grim doesn't... "Oh! Oh! Twisted Wonderland! it is good to be back! Name's [Name] Cipher and I take it two are some kind of living ventriloquist dummy?" He ask with a mix of sarcasm and amusement in his voice. Wait--no! He has to show some kindness to them. They're the ones who freed him after all. So maybe he should be kinder. Maybe.. "How about this you magicless thing, I will help you.. in exchange.. I only want a puppet! Yes! A puppet! You have one of those right?" This kid is magicless! He's completely defenseless against this world's wildness and chaos! But don't worry! He's here to help! Isn't he so kind~?

----------

Some students began to notice how Yuu seem to act differently sometimes.. it's odd.. suddenly he's capable of magic..? And these.. creepy knowledge?? What? When some ask about it, Yuu merely shrugged, dodging the question or straight up ignored them and Grim? That cat is as clueless as ever! For someone that's suppose to be close with the prefect, he's completely useless with this predicament.

Of course, Yuu's strange demeanor ended up catching the attention of none other than Diasomnia's Housewarden.

"Child of Man, it has come to my attention that you've been acting.. strange.. lately.. may I know the reason for such actions?"

"Oh! It's nothing really! I'm completely fine, there's nothing to be worry about!" Huh.. the prefect's reassurance sounded a bit cheery.. maybe too cheery... is he always like this? And this.. energy.. it's strong.. incredibly so..

Not at all convinced, Malleus spoke up with caution, preparing himself for what's to come. "Is that so? Then may I know why you're acting strangely?"

"I said I'm fine--" Yuu stopped himself once he saw who it was that decided to confront him this time. Oh.. oh! He had thought it was just some no name snotnosed kid! But no, oh no.. this is the main course! Finally he had finished the appetizers! A wide grin made its way onto his face as he spoke up in a cheery manner. "Well well well! Finally! The main course has arrive! How's living, my dear dragon?"

Malleus' calm demeanor change in an instant the moment those words came out of Yuu's mouth. This.. thing.. how dare he.. how dare it decided to lay a hand on the prefect!? And now it has the audacity to use his body like a puppet!? Unforgivable...

"You..."

"Aw, I thought you would be more happy to see me!"

Malleus scoffs at the dream demon's words, crossing his arms over his chest as he sent a glare towards him. Happy? What's there to be happy about?

"Admit it~ You missed me~"

[Name] knew full well that Malleus won't lift a finger at him, not when he's possessing his precious Child of Man.. of course he won't.. the very thought of injuring this fragile body must scare him to the bone! Poor baby...

The dream demon can't help but chuckle at the very thought of it. The other's glare mean nothing to him. What matters most is...

"What's with that look for? Come on now.. I still remember how happy you look back then~"

The look of wonder that the crown prince showed.. it was such magnificent a sight.. but not enough to coax [Name] to rethink his decision in deceiving him. This world will be his.

"Come on, my dear.. let me out.. out of this dimension of mine and into yours.."

"Allow me to show you just what true power actually is."

"Let me in."

"And welcome Weirdmageddon with open arms."

[millenianthemums]

chapter 3 of my fic is up! i actually posted it a week ago, but was too tired to finish the art until now… i might not actually be able to draw for every single chapter, but i still wanna try. we’ll see.

Previous chapter

Next chapter

First chapter

Mabel had become best friends with Tate McGucket’s new dog in under a week. She knew she would eventually, but still, that was record time. And with all the old friends she’d been tirelessly catching up with in her first few days back in Gravity Falls, she was both proud and preemptively exhausted to have added a new friend to the list already.

It helped that Scout Cottonball McGucket was the absolute sweetest puppy she’d ever met (a puppy that was taller than her on two legs was a puppy nonetheless). She was one of those huge fluffy white dogs– a Great Pyranese, Dipper had said– and her heart was just as soft and sweet and cuddly as the rest of her. Hence “Cottonball”, the unauthorized middle name Mabel had secretly given her. The plan was to get it to stick so well that by the time Tate found out about it, it would be impossible to get rid of it.

So when she cycled by the lake and saw Tate out in the rain that afternoon, and managed to wrangle out of him that Scout was missing , of course she was going to help look. Total no-brainer. Her search-and-rescue strategy of biking along the treeline at a snail pace while whistling and calling Scout’s name wasn’t exactly sophisticated, but before long she caught a lucky break. She started hearing a weird noise through the rain, a distant but piercing screech. At first she assumed it was a red fox or maybe a mountain lion screaming its head off somewhere in the woods, and tried to steer clear of it. But then a series of powerful barks joined it– Scout’s beautiful voice!-- and Mabel’s self-preservation fled. No way was some wailing overgrown house cat gonna hurt her new friend on her watch!

She swerved toward the noise, yelling for Scout, and soon a shape barrelled toward her out of the darkness. She was only terrified for a split second, but then she saw its wagging tail and leapt off her bike to give the dog a massive hug. Scout jumped and wagged and danced around joyfully as Mabel scrubbed her hands all through her thick coat. “You’re okay!” she cheered as Scout nuzzled her face. “We were all so worried, young lady… aww, I can’t stay mad at you! Maybe just– oof–” she shoved Scout’s massive paws off her shoulders and tried to wipe the muddy pawprints off her sweater before they soaked into the wool. “Maybe just settle down a little– whoa! Hey! Oh, you’re such a silly–”

“YOU.”

She recognized the voice right away. Part of her brain had never stopped hearing it. Her head turned toward it against her will, and standing there in the woods, staring her down, was exactly what she was most afraid to see.

Bill Cipher. The triangle guy who almost killed the entire world last time she’d been here. The monster who tricked her into helping him almost tear her family apart. The thing that had almost scared her into not coming back this year, into abandoning this place and the people she loved so much, out of fear that she’d somehow mess it all up again. The single worst thing that had ever happened to her. He was standing right in front of her. The streaks of mud and bruising, bloody gashes all over his face (body? surface?) made him look like he’d just clawed his way straight out of Hell, and the look in his eye seemed to say that he’d done it just to tear her apart with his bare hands.

She was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Please, please let her be dreaming. Let her wake up…

Then he started talking, and she realized something was off.

“YYYOUUU DIDTHIISSSS,” was all she could really make out. He was saying lots more stuff, but the words were blurring together, so clumsy and slurred that it didn’t even sound like language. He started trying to walk toward her– walk , like on the ground , which she’d never seen him do in his triangle form. And he was barely managing it. Every raindrop that hit him seemed to be weighing him down as he approached, oozing blood— weird silver blood with an eye-melting rainbow sheen— from countless gashes on his arms and legs, and even between the brick things on his body/face. The finger gun he was holding out seemed like it was supposed to be aiming at her, but his whole arm was shaking more than the leaves in the summer storm. He trailed off speaking— the only other thing she’d caught was “I WON’T”— and his eye locked on her face. His eye was bloodshot, pink, shiny and sticky, like a wad of chewed gum. It looked horribly painful. Everything about him looked painful.

As she stared, his pupil shrank to a tiny point. His eye turned bright red, and the redness spread out into his bricks— scales?— like a fire burning behind drywall. For a second she thought he was about to turn into that giant crimson nightmare pyramid he’d shapeshifted into last year, and she almost turned and ran as he let out a scream and started to run at her…

…and fell on his face.

Mabel and Scout stood there, staring in silence, as Bill Cipher laid face-down and motionless in the mud. The woods were still filled with the low roar of rain, but somehow Mabel felt a heavy silence crushing her lungs.

Once her heart had stopped beating so fast, she risked a step toward him. Scout made a soft rumble of warning, but let her approach. Bill gave absolutely no sign that he knew she was there as she drew closer, until she was standing right beside him, close enough to see the gold scales on his back heaving rhythmically up and down. Slow, labored breathing. Had she ever seen him breathe before? She didn’t think he even did that. At least not normally. But from the looks of it, this was hardly a normal day for him. He really did look awful. One of his arms was a bloody mess, leather skin all ragged and torn. He probably had Scout to thank for that. She gave the dog an affectionate scratch behind her ear.

But the torn-up arm was far from his only injury. And she didn’t know how to tell health from illness in… whatever he was… but she was pretty sure he was usually a much brighter shade of yellow than this. He looked drained of color.

After several seconds of nothing happening, she noticed a big, durable-looking stick lying at the base of a nearby tree. She retrieved it, and after a few deep breaths and a bit of hyping herself up– “if he was gonna jump up and grab you he could have done it by now” -- she held out the stick and gave him a slight but purposeful nudge.

Nothing. He just barely twitched enough to show he was still alive. He was totally out cold.

She was getting concerned. That was a new experience, feeling concern for Bill. He’d done so much terrible stuff, but still… was she watching a man die? Or a triangle, rather? Was she about to see a triangle die?

A voice in the distance cut through the rain. Mabel jumped back and held the stick like a baseball bat on reflex. Then she recognized it, just as Scout’s tail started wagging. It was Tate McGucket’s voice. “Mabel? Scout? Is that you out there?”

“It’s us! Hi!” Mabel chirped, then realized her mistake. Leading Tate toward Bill would almost definitely end with somebody dying. And whoever it ended up being, she just really didn’t want to see that. With a few more quick, anxious nudges, she managed to shove Bill most of the way under a nearby bush just as Tate’s flashlight beam swept through the trees to find them. Scout took off running toward it and Mabel quickly followed, snagging the handlebars of her bike along the way. She arrived in time to see Tate grinning and ruffling Scout’s furry face as she stood with her paws on his chest. He looked up to see Mabel and quickly shoved the dog off him. “I keep tellin’ you not to jump like that, girl!” he said sternly.

“She must’ve run off chasing something,” Mabel offered as casually as possible. “But she ran up as soon as she heard me! She’s a good puppy!”

“Wish she minded me half that well,” he grumbled, patting Scout on the head. “Good on you for findin’ her, Mabel. I really can’t thank you enough–”

“You don’t have to thank me!” Mabel said, shooing the thought away with her hands. “I’m always happy to help out a friend!” Scout gave a quiet, appreciative “boof” as she scratched her ear.

“Let me drive you back home, then,” Tate said. “You shouldn’t be biking in this rain anyway. ‘Specially once it gets dark.”

Mabel shot an involuntary glance at the bushes behind her. If she left now, she might not find this same spot again. And if she lost track of Bill, if she went home not knowing if he was still out there somewhere, or if he might follow her…

“...Well, the others aren’t expecting me back ‘til eight,” she said slowly. That was true; she’d been out cycling well past sunset most nights since she and Dipper arrived. Ever since she’d gotten really into biking in the fall, she’d been eager to try out the trails in Gravity Falls, and now she was getting as much use out of them as she could. The Grunkles were cool with it. They both figured a girl who’d helped fight off a paranormal apocalypse could handle herself in the dark woods for an hour or two. And they were right, she thought proudly. She’d gotten really fast on her bike in the past few months. She could probably outspeed a grizzly bear with ease. Those guys were way too big and bulky to pedal well.

“Plus, I think the rain’s supposed to let up soon,” she continued. “Would it be okay if I just hung around the bait shop for a little bit, and then biked home after?”

“Sure thing,” Tate said, looking grateful for something to offer. “I’ll tell the missus to put some tea on. Scout, heel.” He clicked his fingers, and Scout followed close beside him as he headed back to the house.

Mabel waited until his back was turned. Then she picked up the stick again and drove it hard into the ground, at the base of the bush that hid Bill. Backing up a bit, making sure it would stay upright, she nodded to herself. It would work well enough as a landmark.

“I’ll come back later,” she whispered under her breath as she trailed behind Tate and Scout. “If he’s gone, I’ll run home and tell Dipper and the Grunkles. And if he’s dead, then… problem solved. I think.”

And if this is all a trick? Some cynical part of her brain piped up. If he’s luring you back into some kind of trap, then what? You gonna fall for it like last time?

“No,” she whispered back through gritted teeth. “Not again.”

One hand wandered to the cupholder on her bike that held her grappling hook. Fingers resting on its handle, she followed the others out of the woods.

The sun had fully hidden behind the horizon by the time Mabel left. The rain had lightened to a gentle mist, barely noticeable really, and she hadn’t wanted to stay out too late. So once she’d finished her tea (augmented with all the spare sugar packets Mrs. McGucket had claimed to own), she’d said goodbye to Scout and her humans and set out for home. She sent a quick text to Dipper on the way out, letting him know she’d be a little bit late getting back. Just got sidetracked, sorry, nothing to worry about.

But there was something to worry about. She saw the stick loom out of the darkness as she cycled up. The rain had almost washed it out of the ground, leaving it standing crooked. The sharp, jutting angle reminded her of that picture Dipper showed her once of a nuclear waste dump or something, where they’d put some scary black spikes in a desert to try and scare people away. “This place is best shunned and left uninhabited”.

She shouldn’t be doing this. This was so stupid. It didn’t make any sense to get closer.

But she was already standing over the bush. She wrenched the stick out of the ground and gripped it like a sword. She held it at arm’s length and pushed aside the foliage, reaching back for the grappling hook in her pocket with her other hand.

The dim light glinted off something shiny and yellow. She drew back a step, instinctive, but the shape didn’t jump at her. It didn’t move at all. Bill Cipher was still exactly where she’d left him.

Did he actually die? She felt her chest tighten, which was stupid. It was good if he was dead. He was already supposed to be dead. She should be thrilled to think he might have died under that bush, all his threats left unfulfilled.

Did I just walk away while he was dying?

Her hand was shaking. She tried to draw the stick back, but it bumped against one of his arms as it went.

It twitched. The fist clenched and drew back in toward the body. Mabel almost bit through her tongue from flinching too hard, but there was no further movement.

He was alive. Barely.

Mabel’s chest was so tight, it felt like she couldn’t breathe. This was the worst case scenario. He wasn’t gone somewhere. He didn’t jump up and scare her and at least provide some clue about what was going on. And he wasn’t dead. But he probably would be in a few hours. And there was nobody in the world who would ever possibly help. Nobody who even could, except her.

This was so STUPID. You already helped him once, Mabel. Remember? You helped him almost kill your whole family. You really wanna go another round?

But thinking about just walking away made her feel sick. She’d never just walked away from something that was dying before. How many wasps had she fished out of pools in her life? How many times had her parents scolded her for bringing wounded squirrels and raccoons inside? Those were bad ideas too. “Trash the house and get stung” ideas. But the wasps and squirrels and raccoons all lived. If she hadn’t done that stupid thing, they would have died. Not helping had never even felt like an option.

“He already died once before,” she whispered to the angry voice in her head. “He might come back again, someplace else, and cause a bunch more problems we don’t even know about until it’s too late.” She popped open the little wicker trunk on the back of her bike and pulled out her emergency picnic blanket. “Maybe if I, like, put him somewhere secure. And keep a good close eye on him. And then when he wakes up, I can get some answers here.”

The angry voice wasn’t convinced by her rationalizations. It kept yelling about how stupid she was as she draped the blanket over Bill, then gingerly lifted him, using the blanket like gloves, too scared to touch him directly. He weighed practically nothing; about the same as a large picture frame. The voice kept berating her as she shoved him into the bike’s front basket– no way was she putting him in the trunk and pedaling all the way home with her back to him. The front basket was just big enough that, with the blanket over him, he looked like a misshapen, mostly unsuspicious lump. She biked along the side of the road, eyes flickering back and forth between the basket and the pavement ahead, for the whole ride home. The voice was still at it by the time she leaned her bike against the wall of the Mystery Shack, but the louder and meaner it got, the less inclined she felt to listen to its advice. She knew this was a dumb idea. But she’d come this far, and there were no other good options.

They’d discovered, like, six new secret rooms since Grunkle Ford first made it back home. Some of them even he had forgotten about. There was one in the basement that she and Dipper had taken to calling “Gay Baby Jail”, because they’d started a habit of banishing defeated board game opponents down there. Also because it was small, cramped, almost empty, and only had one tiny, high window into the backyard, which for some reason had bars on it.

For all these reasons, it was the perfect habitat for Bill. There was a bathroom in the back, and they’d spruced the room up with a beanbag chair and one of those empty wooden chests from the gift shop, just to tie the room together. He’d be fine in there. Probably.

It was easy to sneak in the back door and down to the basement. Dipper, Stan and Ford were all chatting in the kitchen, working on dinner. It smelled like something was on fire, but she still really wished she was in there with them. This was to keep them safe, she reminded herself as she eased open the door to Gay Baby Jail.

She turned the blanket bundle upside down and dumped Bill out onto the beanbag chair. He was still out cold, lying there in a pile of noodly limbs, but at least he was still breathing. She dropped the blanket on top of him and backed away.

Looking him over, she frowned. A small bite wound on his arm was still oozing silver blood. It would ruin the beanbag chair pretty soon. She sighed and started digging through her pockets.

Gingerly, with as few fingers as possible, she pressed a sky blue band-aid over the wound. “You didn’t earn that,” she whispered. “That’s for practical reasons only.”

With one last look around the room, she jabbed a finger at him. “I’ll be back,” she said, practicing her Interrogation Voice. “And when you wake up, I want answers, Geometry Boy.”

Bill stayed asleep. Mabel shut the door, locked it, tested the lock. It held strong.

She took a deep breath and straightened up, switching from Serious Mode back to Mabel Mode. Then she snuck back outside, knocked on the front door, and joined her family for dinner.

[crystalandrose]

Bill breaks out of theraprism and unleashes all the alt. reality pines kids that are desperate to replace the once that lived, but Also this includes Evil!Ford, which- excited to see bill is alive in this reality when bill died in his- makes a deal with bill and now its possessed evil ford vs canon ford and both think the other is an idiot that threw away their chance at true happiness/fulfillment.

(More ideas on this below)

Evil Ford thinks that Canon Ford is stupid because he 1) spent so much time in the portal and wasted most of his time (if he was gonna go against bill, why also push everyone else away, all his other relationships were worsened cause of bill so why go against him if hes already suffering consequences) 2) threw away a chance to be happy AND be recognized for his talents/heroism/etc.

Canon Ford thinks Evil Ford is stupid because 1) cannot fathom a world where he is happy with what Bill's plan was 2) Doesn't think Bill genuinely cares about him, is just using him.

"Can't you tell, you're being used!"

"What's so wrong with feeling- no- BEING useful?" *continues fighting*

An issue is that 1) people cant tell the two apart enough visually when not possessed and 2) mabel/dipper/others feel bad about beating up a guy that looks just like their uncle. Stan, not so much.

I also thought itd be interesting if Bill and Evil Ford are so in-sync that their voices both speak at times when Bill is possessing him (similar to how certain fusions in SU overlay voices, would also have similar lines like "It feels so great to be back!"). They may be evil- but they have a more stable relationship so maybe possession is more of an equal control deal.

Along with the regular journals, Evil!Ford has a golden journal with an eye on the cover that he always holds close. Its cursed so only Ford's eyes can read it (this includes canon ford!) and inside it has details about cipher, communications between the two, and more personal diary-type entries. While Evil Ford still had Bill in his mind (in his universe bill still "died" after/before/during weirdmaggedon) so they could communicate that way, Ford still let Bill take over while he slept sometimes (so that he could get more work done) and Bill would spend time looking at other realities (explaining his absences). So the book was a way to jot down communications without forgetting. So Canon ford gets his hands on it somehow (maybe they imprisoned evil ford in order to trap bill or something) and is reading trying to find a way to get leverage with Evil Ford but its like a teenage girls diary or like a note being passed in forth and its just a bunch of flirting 💀.

(An idea I had is Evil Ford put something in the book saying "to allow other eyes to see, recite this aloud" and ford- sleep deprived staying up trying to find answers in the book- gives in and recites it so others can help. But upon reading it a glitter explosion happens and the words "LOL YOU THOUGHT STEALING MY EYES WOULD WORK?" either pop up or are said. Evil ford in the cell laughs and said that was a trap for eye-thieves and he never even thought alternate fords eyes would be a problem.)

Last thing: Given that the canon universe is the only one where Dipper and Mabel survived maybe?, Evil Ford's Dipper and Mabel died while Ford was away. Evil Ford feels guilt, worrying if it was somehow his fault for not returning to GF sooner or prioritizing protecting his family (he believes/did make a deal with Bill that his family would be spared). So when he sees the Canon twins, he stumbles and stutters a bit in his resolve. He can't bring himself to go against them, only when he is possessed by Bill is his body able to not hold punches. (Maybe canon bill and evil ford's bill are a bit different, and during possession evil ford realizes this and is worried).

[crows-in-the-house]

Some Bill Cipher nsfw 🙏🏻 I want that triangle

Same anon. Same.

I didn't know if you wanted headcannons or a fic so I made general hcs. I will add a part 2 later with him as a human and a triangle

tw: slight gore, and sex over all, nsfw!

At first he would be really bad at anything intimate - too harsh, too sloppy, maybe too fast, too laud or annoying. But with time he will learn. Especiallly with you as his test subject! Not that you will remember that with your memories changed!

also, enjoys making your mind blank, it feels like a tv with static, it's so funny to him he can't stop!

He likes to shove his tangue in your mouth when you don't expect it. He towers over you, exploring the insides and biting on your lips, making saliva drip down from your mouth. Then he steps away and leaves as nothing happened

He's not really into sex, he doesn't get anything from it, but likes to watch you squirm and make funny faces so he can get down to it - at least he gets to mock you.

He likes how fragile humans are, the thought of being able to snap your bones with one wrong move doing your special time makes him going places. Of course, to your dissmay, he will share such informations with you. Wanna know how you could die now? What are the chances for you getting a heart attack? He will let you know!

And don't worry! He won't shut up during the whole thing! Really! He will talk withaut a break, constantly laughing at your attempts of making him stop.

He is into gore so will actively try to harm you. Don't worry tho, he will make your nerves drown in pleasure when he disarreanges your body parts and organs. Will also take a bite out of your heart, lick in between your lungs and try to stick his fingers in your hot throat. Doesn't it feel nice? Maybe he should stick something else in there huh?

He enjoys making your hair messy. You look like a pouting dog every time!

His hands are constantly roaming on your body, if it's not your hand, it's a waist or arm, or maybe the back of your neck. He likes to "whisper" (shaut and threaten) all the things he could do to you if you won't stop talking to all of your friends. After all he wants to you himself. Always.

If you want him to, he can act a little more caring, whatever that means. Of course, you will have to pay him back for that, but why would you care about that now? For once he will be gentle, confessing how good you make him feel, how adorable your emotions are, how cutsy (pathetic) you look to him.

Remember to pay him back later tho, all great actors must have their prize sooner or later!

Also uses your blood as a lube and drinks your saliva lika water

I think he would be a switch - either wanting to annoy you, being all bratty and whiny or trying to embarras you as much as he can, being raugh and mean, ejoying you obeying him.

Call him your god, your muse, your world, your life! Anything stroking his massive ego will get him rilled up. Drown him in compliments, show him your devotion and admiration, maybe he will act a little softer then usually.

Better be careful what you say during sex tho, he will ask milion questions just to get you under his control :

"Want me to stop? Really? Oh it's a shame you can't tell me with that gag in your mouth!"

"aww does my puppet want to cum? yeah? what would you do to get it hm? OH, EVERYTHING? WOULD YOU SHAKE ON THAT?"

"HA I COULD FUCK YOU SO GOOD YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO WALK FOR THE WHOLE WEEK. YOU WANT THAT RIGHT? RIGHT? HA! YOU GREEDY HUMAN, AS YOU WISH KID!"

he's into shaming and degrading his partner but prefers to receive praise, will get mad and raugh if you try to deny giving it

will pull your hair,

and your limbs, he may even rip them of just to put them back in

enjoys your cries, doesn't matter if it's from pain or pleasure

also doesn't understand what "too much" means until he's on the receiving end

not that he doesn't like overstimulation, getting unable to talk and move just because of you stroking him so good shows him how obsessed you really are with him! Please make him tremble and shake, make him beg you to stop, laughing and whining when you ignore him

Will absolutely lie to you and prey on your naivety - of course he can make you not feel the soreness and pain the next day! He's a demon, remember? All tiredness could go away at the snap of his fingers, that's a promise.

(Not a deal tho, so he ignores it the next day. Just to see your tired expressions and body covered in bite marks.)

Over all, he's a very intense experience.

[thatdepressedtwink]

Bill was probably considered disabled or blind in the 2nd dimension… think about it. Assuming Bill can’t see from side to side as his eye position was smack dab at the centre of his body looking up into the 3rd dimension with 2D vision. Meaning nobody in his world could see his eye for the nature of its position, they would assume he’s just an eyeless person.

Let me explain this with shitty visual examples:

Alright! So we got Bill, eye in the centre looking up into the unkown, and some rando with eyes on his side. They’re both in the 2D plane, so let’s see what rando sees.

This is a terrible artist rendition but this is what rando sees in his perspective, (doesn’t necessarily have to be horizontal, could be vertical) but omit the white lines - that was just to show how flat his world is. As a 2D being, he sees 1 dimensionally.

You can try the same thing, if you take a thin piece of paper - imagine there’s a little stickman of some kind looking at his side - you can lower your head to look at the paper from its side. And you’ll see a flat sheet of paper, like a line, there you are seeing from the stickman’s perspective. Victorian satire book named Flatland describes this pretty well with explained depth perception (not seeing, perceiving) and social customs.

It’s also why we can’t see in 3D but 2D, yes we can perceive depth but that is a trained ability, close one eye and it’s no different than your usual vision aside from depth perception. That’s why when you look at a 2D screen you can see your 3D world normally. A 4D being would be able to see in 3D though, but I digress.

Let’s say another 2D being is looking at this rando, what’s it look like from their perspective?

Probably something like this.

It’s probably not entirely accurate, the inner workings of a 2D creatures perspective I don’t know but this is about what it be like looking at rando in 2D. The red his body, the red pupil his eye.

Great, now let’s see what Bill Cipher looks like to average flatland citizen (the yellow being Bill):

Oh uh. Okay.

No eye, what a freak am I right? Yeah, with no eye on the side it’s likely they thought he was born without any at all.

It’s also very possible that Bill couldn’t see anyone in his world too, but I don’t think that’s Hirsch’s intention so I leave it at that.

No wonder, everyone tells you you’re blind, you’re eyeless, that you can’t see, but you can see. Into a higher dimension - the 3rd dimension, with your 2D vision. Did it look beautiful? Was the sky shimmering with stars, infinite possibilities and opportunity? When did you realise you were never blind at all? When did you realise you were seeing the inconceivable? But unable to touch it, did the 3D world beckon you? You felt special, maybe you were desperate for it.

Teasing and abuse consuming you whole till it was the only thing on your mind, you saw more, something more than them, than yourself you have to show them more. Was it on the basis of revenge? Spite? Inspiration? Good intentions or ill will? The first time he saw the faces of his family, was it because he recognised their screams? When you wipe out a dimension you don’t just kill a world you destroy a universe, you erased planets, you drowned out your stars, there’s nothing left to call home now. No matter where you go you’ll be an alien, an alien without a home planet is only a thing. Was it worth it?

It’s a big if to say that Bill was blind in his 2D world. While I don’t think Bill would be able side to side and see his family, friends, members of his community, etc I also don’t think his appearance/biology makes sense for a 2D being so I don’t think it matters. But if they were going for as much realism, this 2D guy should look like a hollow triangle full of hollowed intestines, a brain and an eye, a mouth that functions as both eating function and the waste function. It’d be like being able to see through a human. As a 2D being there is no depth, so why is there an inside guts and an outside skin thing he was when we look at him from our 3D world? We’d see his insides but his 2D friends would only be able to see his skin, like how we do our friends too.

Anyway, that was a useless explanation, just thought it’d be interesting to explain. I really like learning about theoretical higher dimensions and possible life forms.

[nephalem-da]

I saw you have requests open for Bill x Reader.

I wanted to ask if you'd write a playful sarcastic Bill who realizes he has feelings. And for f!human reader (or GN!reader) no less. And he does a terrible job acting like Bill usually acts when reader is present or the subject of the conversation. Dare I say he acts normal, so very unlike the weird reader is used to. But reader doesn't pick up on the obvious signs either so it's a mutual pining and awkwardness while everyone else just wants them to kiss already.

I hope you have a great day/ night/ weekend and take your time with my ask. No rush!

M'kay byeeee <3

Sarcastically Yours

(Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

First of all, thank you so much for being my first ask! 🥳 I’m super excited to write this, and I hope you enjoy the playful chaos that is Bill Cipher realizing he’s got feelings (and doing an absolutely terrible job hiding them). Here’s a little fic with plenty of awkwardness, and pining! Enjoy!

Genre: Fluff, Humor, Mutual Pining, Slight Crack

Warnings: None (it’s all fluff and awkward cuteness)

Summary: Bill Cipher, the sarcastic demon, realizes he has feelings for you, and he does a terrible job hiding it. Meanwhile, you’re completely oblivious, and everyone else is suffering through the awkwardness, waiting for you both to figure it out.

You knew Bill Cipher was weird. A literal one-eyed triangle from a dimension beyond comprehension? That’s not exactly normal. But you’d gotten used to his sarcasm, his chaotic presence, and his annoying habit of invading your personal space. It was just Bill being Bill.

Until recently.

Something about him had changed, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Bill, the same demon who once turned your kitchen appliances into tap-dancing minions, now seemed to be avoiding eye contact with you. And when he did speak, the usual biting sarcasm was gone, replaced by awkward muttering and half-hearted jokes.

Today, Bill was sitting—yes, sitting—in the Mystery Shack, flipping through a book he clearly wasn’t reading. His usual floating, bouncing-around-the-room energy was nowhere to be found.

"Are you sick or something?" you ask, leaning on the counter, staring at him.

Bill glances up from the book, his single eye narrowing. "Sick? Me? Of course not!" His voice is just a little too high-pitched, and Dipper, who’s watching from the other side of the room, immediately raises an eyebrow.

"You’ve been acting... off," you continue, your suspicion growing. "Usually, you can’t go five seconds without making some smart remark."

"Yeah," Mabel chimes in, bouncing over to your side. "You haven’t even insulted [Y/N] today. I thought that was, like, your favorite hobby."

Bill sputters. "I—I’m giving them a break! Geez, maybe I don’t always have to be sarcastic!"

Dipper snorts from behind his journal. "Since when?"

Bill glares at him. "Since now, nerd!"

You exchange a look with Mabel, and it’s clear she’s thinking the same thing: Bill’s acting weird, even for him. Normally, he’d be pranking everyone, floating around causing mayhem, but lately, he’s been... quiet. Almost normal, and that’s what makes it even weirder.

"So," you say, eyeing him. "Are you gonna tell me what’s going on, or are you just gonna keep pretending like nothing’s wrong?"

Bill fidgets in his seat. "I told you, nothing’s wrong! I’m just... thinking. Yeah, thinking about... the stars."

"Stars?" Dipper repeats, looking up from his journal. "What, are you planning another apocalypse or something?"

Bill lets out a nervous laugh. "Nope! Just... admiring them! They’re pretty, you know?"

Mabel gasps, slapping a hand to her chest. "Did... did he just call something pretty? I didn’t know he even knew that word!"

Bill shoots her a glare, clearly flustered. "I know a lot of words, okay? Pretty, beautiful, gorgeous—"

He stops mid-rant, realizing what he’s just said. His yellow triangle face turns a strange shade of pink, and you stare at him, completely confused.

"Are you okay?" you ask again. "You’re acting really weird today, even for you."

Bill quickly waves a hand in the air, trying to brush it off. "I’m fine! You’re the one making this weird!"

"I’m making this weird?" you repeat, completely lost. "What did I even do?"

"Oh, I don’t know, exist? " Bill blurts out, and then immediately claps a hand over his mouth.

There’s a heavy silence in the room. Mabel’s eyes go wide, and Dipper looks like he’s just seen a ghost.

Stan, who’s been standing in the doorway this whole time, mutters, "This is painful to watch."

Bill, clearly mortified, stumbles to cover up his slip-up. "What I meant to say was, uh, you’re... distracting. Yeah, you’re a distraction. That’s why I’m... off my game today."

You blink at him, still completely clueless. "A distraction? How?"

"You know, just... being around," Bill stammers, waving his hands vaguely. "Being... you. It’s... distracting."

Dipper and Mabel exchange a look, and it’s obvious they’re both screaming internally. How could you not see what was happening?

Mabel steps forward, putting her hands on her hips. "Okay, Bill, enough with the weird cryptic stuff. Why don’t you just tell [Y/N] what’s really going on?"

Bill shoots her a look of pure panic. "I have no idea what you’re talking about, Shooting Star! Why don’t you mind your own business, huh?"

Mabel rolls her eyes. "Come on, everyone else has figured it out!"

"Figured what out?" you ask, completely confused.

Dipper sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "This is so painful to watch."

"Painful for you? I’m the one being interrogated here!" Bill snaps.

Stan steps in, shaking his head. "Kid, just tell ‘em. This whole thing’s like watching a car crash in slow motion."

Bill groans, burying his face in his hands. "Fine, fine! You wanna know what’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on!"

You lean forward, curious. "Okay?"

"I—" Bill starts, then stops, clearly struggling. He takes a deep breath. "I... like you, okay?"

There’s another heavy silence in the room. Dipper drops his journal, Mabel lets out a dramatic gasp, and even Stan seems momentarily stunned.

You, however, just blink in confusion. "Like... like me? As in... what, like a friend?"

Bill lets out a frustrated groan. "No, not like a friend! Like... like like you! Like... in a romantic way!"

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Bill Cipher, the sarcastic, chaotic demon, likes you? Romantically? The idea is so bizarre, so utterly out of left field, that you can’t even process it.

"You... like me?" you repeat, still in disbelief.

"Yes!" Bill throws his hands in the air. "Isn’t it obvious? I’ve been trying to not be a weirdo around you, but apparently, that’s even worse!"

Mabel gasps dramatically again, clasping her hands together. "Oh my gosh, this is so cute!"

Dipper just stares at you, then at Bill, then back at you. "How did you not notice this? He’s been acting like a total freak!"

Bill glares at him. "I wasn’t being a freak! I was... handling things!"

"Handling things?" Stan repeats, raising an eyebrow. "Kid, you’ve been acting like a nervous wreck. It’s embarrassing."

Bill turns to you, still flustered and obviously out of his element. "Look, I’m not great at this whole... feelings thing, okay? But I do like you. A lot. So... there. I said it."

You stare at him, your brain still trying to catch up. "You... really like me?"

"Yes!" Bill practically shouts, throwing his hands up again. "Do I need to spell it out for you?"

You blink a few more times, and then finally, it clicks. Bill Cipher, the same demon who once turned your house upside down for fun, likes you.

"Wow," you mutter, still processing. "I... I didn’t expect that."

Mabel jumps up and down, clapping her hands. "Finally! I’ve been waiting for this moment forever!"

Dipper groans, burying his face in his hands. "This is so awkward."

You look back at Bill, who’s staring at you with a mix of hope and dread. You’ve never seen him look so... vulnerable.

"Well," you start, smiling a little. "I guess I like you too."

Bill’s eye widens. "You... do?"

You nod. "Yeah, I mean... you’re still annoying, but... yeah."

Bill stares at you for a moment, clearly stunned. Then, slowly, his eye wrinkled like a grin. "Well, well, well. I guess this whole feelings thing isn’t so bad after all."

Mabel squeals, jumping up and down. "Kiss! You have to kiss now!"

Dipper groans even louder. "Mabel, no, and I don't think that's even possible with his... eye?"

Bill just scoffed but ignored him, floating closer to you. "Well, I did say I like you. Maybe I should prove it."

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. "You’re still a dork, Bill."

"Yeah, but I’m your dork now," he says, leaning in.

And maybe, just maybe, you let him kiss you.

Thank you again for being my first request! I hope you enjoyed all the chaos and awkwardness between Bill and the reader, and feel free to send in more ideas anytime! 😊

[matcha-milkies]

LOVE? ACTUALLY?

Summary: In which Mabel and Ford are both aromantic, and neither of them has the vocabulary to express it.

A sequel to “Well, You Did Ask.”

Relationships: Ford Pines & Mabel Pines, Ford Pines & Stan Pines, Bill Cipher/Ford Pines (Mentioned), Pacifica Northwest/Dipper Pines (Mentioned)

Tags: Humor, Family Bonding, Past Relationships, Advice

Word Count: 1,584

Link to AO3: Here

A/N: I once saw a post talking about how Mabel could be aromantic because she seems really in love with the idea of being in love and picks a lot of random people to have crushes on, and as an aro person that felt SCARILY familiar lol so here you go.

Ford is aro gay <3

“Ugh.” Mabel draped herself over the arm of the couch like a piece of laundry, stomach down, long hair flopping. “I can’t believe I’m 15 and still single! I’m never gonna get a long-term boyfriend!”

Ford, who had been preparing himself tea in the kitchen nearby, poked his head into the room, as though to ascertain whether his great niece was talking to him. They were the only two in the shack right now, aside from Waddles, so it was a 50-50 chance. 

Well, maybe 25-75. In Waddles’s favor.

“Grunkle Ford,” she lifted herself a little and drew back the curtain of her hair so that her eyes peeked through, “when did you first get serious with someone?”

Despite being addressed directly, Ford still glanced over his shoulder to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind him, perhaps some alternate-dimension Stanford Pines who was better equipped to answer such a question. “Serious?” He tugged at the collar of his sweater as obscenely equilateral imagery flashed across the backs of his eyelids. “W-Well, I suppose it depends on what you define as serious.”

“I dunno, I guess it’s serious when you both agree it’s serious?” She frowned at the ceiling helplessly before slumping back over the arm of the couch. Her voice came out muffled. “I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I’ve ever been in a serious relationship.”

Tea in hand, Ford stepped more fully into the room, looking about as comfortable as he’d been at his first college party (he’d been dragged there against his will, obviously). Come on, Ford. A few sage words from her great uncle. That’s all she’s asking for. A few times, he opened his mouth to say something and then snapped it shut. Luckily, conversations with Mabel did not require much input from the second party.

“I mean, Dipper is dating Pacifica! For a whole year now! I can’t believe he beat me! How does that even happen?”

Ford chuckled a little to himself, remembering high school, when Stan had teased him for having a girlfriend before Ford did. “Well, Mabel, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. Everyone goes at their own pace.”

“Urgh! But I want a boyfriend now! I don’t wanna waaaaaait.” She kicked her feet in agitation. “Is it so much to ask? To have someone in my life who makes me feel special?”

Ford knit his brows and seated himself at the nearby table, setting his mug down. “I understand your frustration, but, Mabel, I…” The man rested his head on his hand for a few moments, contemplating how best to put it. “I fear you’re looking at this all the wrong way.”

She peered up at him, leery. “What do you mean?”

He stirred the metal spoon in his tea, lazily winding it around the ceramic rim. “If all you’re looking for is someone to make you feel special… I worry you might end up with someone who doesn’t have your best interests at heart.”

“Oh, Grunkle Ford, I’ll be fine.”

He had started talking before she even finished her last word. “I’m serious. You have to be careful who you give yourself to. You become so desperate not to feel alone that you-you rush into things blindly, without thinking, without stopping to consider the ulterior motives your partner might have, and before you know it—”

“Hey! I don’t do any of those things,” Mabel protested, even though she very much did do all of those things in that exact order, and also even though Ford had not been talking about her.

“My- My point is,” he went on, taking a steadying breath, “you shouldn’t settle for less. One way or another, you’ll find special people to be in your life. I know it’s not quite what you’re looking for, but you’ve already got a wonderful brother.”

Mabel flopped onto her back and stretched the skin beneath her eye in distress. “But what if he marries Pacifica and I barely see him anymore? I’ll have nobody!”

“Dipper cares for you very deeply, Mabel. I doubt the two of you will ever drift apart.”

“Mmmmm,” Mabel groaned.

“But let’s say hypothetically you did,” Ford proposed. “You’d still have me and Stanley. You’d have your friends, your parents. Waddles, of course. And any number of new friends that you’re going to make in the coming years. I of all people can’t guarantee that relationships won’t fall to pieces. What I do know is that there’s always someone waiting for you on the other side, if you’re willing to let them in.”

“Aww… I guess that is kind of sweet.” She finally rearranged herself so that she was sitting normally. “Say, Grunkle Ford, you never told me about your first serious relationship.”

“I- Oh, you don’t want to hear about that.”

“Yes I do! Come ooooon, I’m so bored! Storytime! Storytime!”

“W- I- Um.”

“Wait.” Mabel narrowed her eyes. “You’re getting all weird the way Dipper does when he has something embarrassing to hide!”

“Mabel, don’t be ridiculous. It’s just not that interesting.”

“What’s not that interesting?” asked a gruff voice from the next room over. A few seconds later, its owner popped in carrying what looked to be groceries in his arm, mostly snacks, fruits and drinks.

“Grunkle Stan! We were just talking about Grunkle Ford’s love life.” She clasped her hands together and batted her lashes.

“What?” Stan raised his brows as he set down his paper bag on the table. “You told her about Bill?”

Ford got up from his chair fully with the intent to commit fratricide. 

“WHAT!” Mabel exploded. “GRUNKLE FORD?!” She glommed onto his leg and anchored him to the ground before he could give chase. Stan wisely moved over to the fridge to look for a few beers. “WHAAAAAT?!”

Ford tried to drag her along. “Mabel! Aren’t you getting a little old to be doing this?”

“No!” She looked up at him with wide, sparkling eyes. “Now tell me everything! Everything! EVERYTHING!” She shook his leg with violence.

Stan popped a couple of bottle caps and extended one of the bottles towards his brother in gesture. “Sixer, if I come over there to give you this, you gotta promise not to try to wring my neck.”

“I can make no such promise, Stanley.”

“Okaaaay then.” Stan, ever the innovator, set the drink on the table instead and slid it over to Ford, who caught it before it could slide off the edge. He eyed it for a moment and then took a few long gulps.

“Mabel,” he sighed, glancing down to find that she was still staring up at him with puppy-dog eyes. “There’s not much to tell! He manipulated me and lied to me and then we blasted him out of Stan’s brain. The end.”

“No, no, no!” Mabel cried. “Tell me when you first realized you were falling in love with him!”

“F- Falling in—” Ford cleared his throat.

The truth was, he’d been “in love” with Bill, in a sense, from that very first moment. But that all made it sound so much more… romantic than it was. It was difficult to explain exactly what he had felt. It was intense, and it was an attraction, and at one point he might’ve thought it was love, but… “I… didn’t,” he finished lamely, as if he were just now realizing it himself.

“Come on, Grunkle Ford, the cat’s out of the bag now! You can’t lie to me anymore!”

“No, I… I really didn’t,” he went on, looking down at his empty hand. “We had a connection. A deep and intimate connection to one another. But I… I don’t think it was anything like what you’re imagining, Mabel.”

“Huh?” she blinked a few times. Even Stan seemed confused as he leaned back against the fridge.

“Hang on a second. Back on the boat you told me you were romantically involved. Those were your exact words.”

“Well, we… were?” Ford himself sounded perplexed, as though he were working out a Rubik’s Cube in real time. Of course, if this were a Rubik’s Cube he would’ve figured it out a lot faster. “At least, that’s what the understanding was at the time…”

“Uh… okay, you lost me.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t really explain it.”

“I think I get it,” Mabel said thoughtfully, and the two grunkles turned to look at her. “You thought you were in love, so you got into a relationship, but you weren’t really in love. But you still loved him. Just not in a lovey-dovey way.”

“I, uh… Well, yes… I think so,” Ford affirmed.

“Yeah, I get it. I think I did that with this guy in freshman year. We really connected, you know! But I realized I wasn’t… in love…” she finished softly, as though she were now the one deep in thought. She snapped out of it with a shrug. “Womp womp.”

“Well, there you have it,” said Stan after taking a particularly long swig. “Hey, Sixer, now all you gotta do is tell Dipper and you’ll be three for three.”

“Stanley, don’t even joke about that. I’m absolutely done talking about this.”

“Awww,” said Mabel, who had really been looking forward to squealing to her twin about it. “Double womp womp.”

“Now will you please detach from my leg?”

“Nope! We’re bonding, baby! Learning each other’s backstories and stuff! Mabel-Ford bonding time!” She threw up her hands like she was on a roller coaster, although her legs stayed wrapped around his ankle. “Woohoo!”

[ckret2]

Chapter 54 of everybody being really eager to kill their prisoner human Bill Cipher for good: the gang's trying a new way to create fuel for the one weapon guaranteed to destroy Bill.

It goes so great.

As Ford drove to Northwest Manor, Dipper skimmed through the introduction to Flatworld, where Edward Bishop Bishop was pretending that his book had been dictated to him by a sentient square; but he couldn't focus on it. He sighed, shut the book, and stared out the passenger window at the passing trees.

"Something on your mind?" Ford asked.

"I'm thinking about the Axolotl's poem again. The one about Bill."

"Ah. Still trying to remember the rest?"

"Kinda. Mabel and I are working on it together," Dipper said. "But it's not that. I've just been wondering... what if the poem is... you know, part of a prophecy about Bill or something? Mabel remembered another line of the poem—'A different form, a different time.' What if the Axolotl was telling us why Bill's back as a human? Maybe we need him here—to, to use his powers to fight off a bigger threat or something. Do you think that's possible?" He held back another question: what happens if we kill him before then?

Ford frowned thoughtfully. "I've been thinking about the Axolotl as well," he said. "About the worlds I visited that called it a god of criminals, tyrants, and luck. That sounds to me like the exact kind of being that would be Bill's ally. And it's odd how resistant Bill was to telling us anything about the Axolotl, when it simply passed over town for a few seconds and then moved on. Why the secrecy? How does Bill think it benefits him for us not to know about it?" Ford shook his head. "I think you're on to something, Dipper—I think whatever the Axolotl told you is important. The question is: important for whom?"

Dipper's stomach turned. The Axolotl had radiated such kindness; it was hard for Dipper to believe it could be up to anything evil with Bill. But then—Dipper clutched at Flatworld with the damning biography on the back—but then, how many people had Bill himself fooled with the benevolent teacher act?

Dipper understood now why "Don't Trust Bill" had so quickly turned into "Trust No One." Even when you knew that there was only one real enemy—even when you knew that most people out there were still reasonably honest and friendly—you could never tell just how far Bill's shadow stretched. "I guess that's true. We can't really know."

"We can't know yet. But it is worth trying to figure out," Ford said. "I wish I could tell you where to start looking for answers. For now... we'll just have to consider anything possible."

Ford was right. But all the same, every time Dipper paranoidly asked himself What if Grunkle Ford is right, what if the Axolotl really is on Bill's side, a second, even more paranoid, even more worried voice asked, But what if he isn't?

####

When they arrived, Fiddleford was already in his lab, hard at work on the miniature particle accelerator they'd come to see him about.

"The paradox what was powering it started yowling" Fiddleford said. "So obviously it ain't a paradox no more."

Ford grimaced. "That does lay to rest whether the cat is alive or dead."

"Sure does," Fiddleford said, sighing. "So I let the cat outside and I'm rebuilding the whole contraption to run on a more robust paradox. I hope you've got better news for me, Stanford."

"We hope so too. I think Dipper might have the solution to our fuel generation problem."

They briefly explained Dipper's unfortunate puppet incident last summer—Fiddleford had to take a break in the middle to grab a cup of coffee, "To steady my nerves,"—its ongoing effects on his sleep, and the new developments of the last few days, culminating in Dipper learning how to project his soul out of his body—

—which, Ford now realized, he probably should have expected Fiddleford to take poorly.

"Sweet sasparilla!" Fiddleford kicked over his chair while jumping onto the nearest table. "You're dead?!"

"What?" Dipper said. "No, I—"

"You're like a ghost possessing a zombie!"

Dipper thought that over. "Whoa..."

But, even though Fiddleford thought the whole affair went against the rightful order of the world, he agreed that it was a sound idea and worth trying. "It's lucky that my tater tot and I hunted out all the ghosts in this place during our spring cleaning," he said, opening a cabinet. He retrieved what looked like a pair of vacuums redesigned to be worn like backpacks with an assortment of random electronics dangling from wires. He held up a set of goggles and headphones hanging off one of the vacuums. "I invented these doohickeys that'll let you see and hear ghosts! They'll let us keep in contact with Dipper while he's out of his body." He set the vacuums on a table near the miniature particle accelerator and said, "First, though—Stanford, I need you to help me rebuild this machine."

"Of course." Ford turned away from the vacuum he'd been inspecting to look at the miniature particle accelerator.

Dipper said, "Wait, there are other ghosts in this mansion?"

"Yep!"

"I hunted one at the Northwests' big party last year," Dipper said. "How many more ghosts are in here?"

"We've caught, oh... thirty or forty so far."

"Seriously? That's amazing." Dipper was already thinking about the amazing Ghost Harassers episode this place could have been. Maybe even a miniseries.

"Aw, it weren't that hard. If you leave the TV on, they like to flock around it to watch. All you've gotta do is hide in the corner until a whole big bunch of 'em are gathered 'round—and then ya get them!"

"Oh," Dipper said. "Huh. I just tricked one into getting trapped in a silver mirror."

"Well, that's right impressive too. I never woulda thunk of that," Fiddleford said. "Me and Tate have been sucking them into cooling pouches in these here vacuums and then sticking the pouches in a chest freezer down in the dungeon! Maybe I oughta line the freezer with silver."

"This place has a dungeon?" Dipper asked.

Before Fiddleford could respond, Ford asked, "Which parts are we replacing?" He was inspecting the miniature particle accelerator.

"All of them!"

Ford gave Fiddleford a surprised look. "All of them?"

"Yep! Every last one!"

"Is the design changing that much?"

"Nope! It's staying exactly the same!"

"Then... why can't we just use the same machine we already have?"

"We will be using the same machine!" Fiddleford smiled mischievously. "Or will we?"

"Ah! I see! The particle accelerator of Theseus," Ford said. "Very clever."

"And kinder on the local stray cats, I reckon."

Dipper offered his assistance, but the work involved too much welding and buzzsawing for him to try untrained, so he was directed to sit a safe distance away with the first aid kit. At least it gave him a chance to read some more. He had to shove aside a couple flashlights and the glue grenade to reach where the slim book had slid to the bottom of his backpack during their walk from the car.

He skimmed over some of the worldbuilding looking for the story before he realized the story was the wordbuilding and looped back. It was a lot bleaker than he expected, even after Mabel's warning. Rigid class system, oppressive government, all kinds of horrifying shape prejudices... Frustrating dream visits to the ignorant line people in the first dimension who didn't believe in the second dimension, and to the self-absorbed King Zero in the point-sized zeroth dimension who thought a whole universe was contained inside him... A just as frustrating visit from a sphere who simply couldn't explain the third dimension in a way the square protagonist could understand, which was even more annoying since the square had just seen how the first dimension couldn't comprehend the second for the same reasons, so why couldn't he accept the possibility of a third dimension he couldn't imagine? Dipper got that it was supposed to be a metaphor to help three-dimensional readers understand that not being able to visualize a fourth dimension didn't mean it was impossible; but still. Come on, man. Don't be stupid.

On the other hand, at least now Dipper had a framework to understand the concept of higher dimensions and probably a leg up on next year's geometry. Would high school geometry cover four-dimensional space?

After a couple of hours of work and a break for lunch, the miniature particle accelerator was rebuilt and ready for another attempt to generate fuel. Fiddleford pulled on one of his ghost vacuums like a backpack, put on the set of connected headphones and goggles, and settled his glasses on over the goggles. "Y'all ready?"

"Ready," Ford said. He was seated at the accelerator's monitors, holding the jug that would contain any NowUSeeitNowUDontium they generated, and wearing the other vacuum—with the goggles over his glasses, and he was a bit worried about how Fiddleford had positioned his.

"Ready," Dipper said, a tad less certainly. What if he couldn't do it today? What if he'd never actually been able to do it last night and the whole thing really had been a dream?

But Fiddleford flipped the accelerator's power on, stepped back, and said, "All right! Do your thing!"

"Okay." Dipper stared straight at the machine, and—eugh—thought about degloving his body from his soul, peeling out of his skin fingers first.

This was only the second time he'd left his body deliberately. He'd observed in the past that the mindscape was strangely gray and still compared to the real world—but he'd never realized just how stark and swift the change was, like all the color and warmth had been abruptly sucked from reality. He shivered.

Ford inhaled sharply. Fiddleford stumbled back against the nearest table and yelped, "Flipping flapjacks!"

"You can both still see me?" Dipper said. "Can you hear me, too?"

"Loud and clear," Ford said.

"Like the voices of the dead." Fiddleford shuddered. "Welp, let's get this over with. I don't like all this ghost business. It ain't natural."

Ford gave him an amused look. "Since when have you ever been concerned about what's 'natural'? Didn't the engineering club vote you 'most likely to build a robot that flies in the face of God'?"

"You hush! There's nothing unnatural about iron, electromagnetism, and flamethrowers."

Dipper studied his body's face, its eyes pointed blankly toward the particle accelerator. "Well, I'm looking at the experiment, but I'm definitely not thinking about it. I think that's half of the paradox?"

"That's right," Fiddleford said. "Now, you just—float yerself on over to the other side of the accelerator, and think about it without looking at it."

"Right." Dipper positioned himself directly across the accelerator from his body, shut his eyes, and tried to think experimental thoughts. He didn't know much about Dontium besides what Ford had written about it in Journal 3—that it was inert when you were looking at it and radioactive when you weren't—so, if the miniature particle accelerator generated any, would he get blasted with radiation? Or was his body staring at the accelerator enough to keep it inert? But no—it was supposed to fill up the jug Ford was holding, right? Ford was observing it. Dipper tried to imagine what must be happening inside the accelerator; how did it work, would particles spontaneously generate in the tubes? Maybe they circled around until they fell into the hose to the jug...

He heard Ford gasp. "Fiddleford, look at this— Don't listen to me Dipper, just keep—keep thinking whatever you were thinking!"

"Is it working?"

"It was! Don't let us distract you."

Dipper tried to ignore the sound of Fiddleford running over to Ford, and started humming to drown out their hushed conversation. That was good, right? It meant the experiment was working. Keep thinking about that—experiment. Experiment. Expeeeriment. ... He wondered if trying to do the experiment by putting himself and Tyrone on either side of the accelerator would have worked, or if it had to be Dipper's soul and his body—

"Hot diggety!" Fiddleford shouted. "We've reached critical mass!"

"What does that mean, is it bad?" Dipper opened one eye a crack, trying to squint enough that he couldn't see the particle accelerator. "Is it gonna explode?"

Ford explained, "It means we've generated enough Dontium that it can sustain its own existence. Now, even if you get distracted, what we've already generated will remain. It can only go up from here."

"Wow," Dipper said. "That only took, what, a couple of minutes?"

"Less than that! During our last attempt, we tried for hours without reaching critical mass," Ford said. "Your idea was right on the money. Excellent work, Dipper."

Dipper grinned. After all that anxiety, it was almost a letdown how easy it was, but the coolness factor made up for it. He could just imagine the conversations the first week of high school: What did I do over summer break? Oh, nothing much. Just synthesized a new element. To fuel a weapon custom-designed to kill an immortal chaos god. And did I mention I was a ghost at the time? It didn't quite top last summer's adventures, but...

Then something went wrong.

There was a noise halfway between the electric buzz of a tesla coil and the rip of Velcro being torn apart. A stench like burning hair filled the air. A line of shifting colorful light began worming its way out of the center of the particle accelerator and up into the air.

"Oh no. Ohhh no!" Fiddleford grabbed his head. "The micro-rips! The threadbare fabric of reality! Our experiment put too much of a strain on it! We tore straight through!" One foot bounced agitatedly, "Ohhh, I knew I shoulda run some calculations before substituting in Dipper for you and Stanley."

Dipper gasped as the line of light began to agonizingly stretch open wider. Reality began seeping over its edges and dripping through into the kaleidoscopic miasma beyond. It developed a second horizontal rip across its middle as reality stretched beyond endurance in multiple directions. "What—is that?" He was afraid he knew.

"A dimensional rift," Fiddleford said.

"The Nightmare Realm," said Ford.

The last frayed thread holding reality together snapped apart, and the rift tore open wide, fully exposing the Earth to the roaring roiling chaos beyond. 

They screamed.

"Hello?" A giant set of dentures with stubby arms and legs leaned through the rift. "Oh hey! Aren't you the guys that killed Bill?"

They screamed again.

"Is screaming how humans say hi?" the monster asked. "I'm Teeth. Aaah!" He turned toward Ford. "Hey! Fingers! Lookin' less electrocuted than the last time I saw you—"

Ford socked Teeth in the incisor, knocking him back through the rift. "Back, you! You and your 'friends' are not welcome in this dimension!"

"Ow. What the heck, man."

Fiddleford shouted, "Don't stop observing the Dontium!" He bounded across the room on all four to scoop up the milk jug and stare at it. 

Ford nearly toppled through the rift, and had to grab onto the miniature particle accelerator as the heaviest nearby object to anchor himself. The rift sucked on reality like a vacuum, and the longer it was open the more powerful it grew.

Over the roar of the rift, Dipper yelled "What do we do?!"

"We have to seal it! Before it sucks all of Gravity Falls into the Nightmare Realm!"

"How?!"

Last summer, the instant Bill had no longer been around to maintain the dimensional rift, it had also sucked reality into it, starting with everything that properly belonged in the Nightmare Realm; but then it had also quickly sealed itself back shut. On the other hand, this rift was just opening wider and wider. Maybe it wasn't like the rift Bill had used to enter Gravity Falls, then? Maybe it was structured more like the wormholes that had been left behind after Weirdmageddon—

"I've got it!" Ford picked up Dipper's body—trying not to shudder at how lifeless it felt—and unzipped his backpack. "Is the alien adhesive grenade still in here?"

"It should be! Let me see." Dipper floated over to peer into his backpack.

The rift was already strong enough to drag at Ford's clothing. The lightest objects in the room lifted into the air and were sucked through. Papers. Pencils. Coffee mugs. Dipper's soul.

He screamed. "GRUNKLE FORD!"

"Dipper!" Ford grabbed for Dipper's ankle, but his hand passed right through. Ford's blood ran cold as Dipper tumbled head over heels into the Nightmare Realm.

"Look at that," Teeth said, watching Dipper soar by. "Dinner delivery."

There was no difference between the mindscape and reality in the Nightmare Realm, if Ford followed Dipper  through he'd be able to get a grip on Dipper there. But how would he carry Dipper back to Earth without him melting through Ford's grasp the moment they were through the rift? Didn't matter, grab Dipper first, then figure it out—

Fiddleford shoved the jug of Dontium in Ford's hands as he ran past. "Watch over this!"

"What—!"

Fiddleford jumped into the Nightmare Realm, the end of a long extension cord tied around his waist. He stretched out the hose of his ghost vacuum and flipped a switch, and with a yelp Dipper's soul was sucked inside. Ford gasped in relief.

Trying to keep as much of his attention on the potentially-radioactive jug as possible, Ford reeled Fiddleford back in, shoved the jug in his hands, and dug into Dipper's backpack again until he found the alien adhesive grenade. He pulled the pin and chucked it through the rift. "Duck!"

He shielded Dipper's body and Fiddleford shielded the Dontium jug as the grenade exploded. Even so, the force of it blew aside everything within ten feet of the rift and sent both of them sprawling. When Ford glanced back over his shoulder, the adhesive had gummed up the opening of the rift like a popped glowing magenta bubblegum bubble; and as he watched, it sucked the opening shut. In a few seconds the air was still and quiet, and the only sign the rift had ever existed was an immense, jagged vertical line in the air around which the light refracted wrong.

Fiddleford gingerly got back to his knees, then pulled off his glasses and pushed up his goggles. One of the lenses had been crushed, and the glasses' frame was bent beyond repair.

Ford heaved a long, heavy sigh. "A bit too familiar, wasn't it?"

Fiddleford blinked at him. "Wasn't what?"

"The—reeling you in from the Nightmare Realm?" Ford said. At Fiddleford's blank look, Ford said, "The portal test?"

"Oh." Fiddleford scratched his head. "I... still don't remember it too clearly."

"Ah. Yes. Of course." Ford's stomach churned with guilt as he looked away from Fiddleford. Over thirty years late was too late to apologize, wasn't it? (Over the past year he'd wondered, again and again; and again and again he'd decided that it was.) "Thank you for saving—" He gasped, "Dipper!"

"Oh, right!" Fiddleford took off his vacuum, dropped it on the floor, and unzipped its bag. The ghosts of a Northwest in a buckskin coat and a confused-looking hippie escaped into the air. "Hey," Fiddleford barked. "You get back here!" He raised the vacuum's hose and flipped its switch. He caught the hippie, but as soon as she was sucked in she flew out the unzipped bag and off to freedom again. Fiddleford lowered the hose and shook a fist at the retreating spirits. "I'll get you ectoplasmic varmints, just you wait!"

Ford knelt on the floor and held the bag open wider. Dipper floated out, arms crossed tight and shivering. "So... so cold... and dark... and really, really dusty."

"Let's get you back where you belong."

Ford held up Dipper's body as he lay back down in it. He could see the moment color flooded back into Dipper's cheeks and his eyes focused again. Dipper groaned.

Ford said, "You're never doing that again."

"I am never doing that again," Dipper said.

"We can't do that again," Fiddleford said. "The fabric of reality in this town is too unstable to handle another paradoxical physics experiment that powerful! We'd rip open another rift to the Nightmare Realm!"

"And we just tossed away all of our remaining alien adhesive," Ford sighed. It left Gravity Falls vulnerable if any more rips formed. Sometime soon he'd have to go back to the alien crash site and see if there was any more adhesive he could scrounge up; but even if he did, they couldn't risk wasting more of it like this.

"But did we get what we needed?" Dipper asked.

Fiddleford held up the milk jug of Dontium and shook it. It had a strange shifting color, wavering between cyan and orange depending on the lighting. "Looks like we got about three-fourths of a gallon," Fiddleford said.

"It's only enough to fully power one shot," Ford said. "But... one shot is all it'll take to destroy Bill." His stomach flipped nervously as he said it. He'd been anxious every other time he'd prepared to kill Bill, but that had always been because he'd been preparing to battle for the fate of the universe with a godlike monster who could easily kill him or worse. For the first time, he was preparing to execute a defenseless prisoner, and he didn't know whether it would make the universe any safer.

For half the summer he'd hoped Bill was harmless. Now he wished he had proof that Bill wasn't, so that he could lay his conscience to rest.

Dipper looked as uncomfortable as Ford felt; but when he caught Ford's gaze, he hardened his expression and nodded. Ford nodded back.

"WOOHOO!" Fiddleford leaped his full height straight up, making Ford and Dipper start. "We done it! YAHOO!" He waved his hat around ecstatically, doing a little jig in place. "YIPPEE! HIP HIP HURRrr—hey, how come you fellers ain't celebrating?"

Ford didn't know how to explain without making Fiddleford worry he was at risk of falling under Bill's spell again. "We'll celebrate when he's dead."

####

"Who was at the door?" 8 Ball shouted. When he didn't get a response, he paused his game. "Teeth?"

Teeth waddled into the game room. His face was completely plastered shut with some kind of glowing purple glue.

Pyronica cracked up and Paci-Fire chuckled darkly. 8 Ball sighed, "What'd you get into, you idiot?"

Teeth waved his hands emphatically.

"All right, okay." 8 Ball stood and stretched. "Does anyone have the number of that lamp guy Bill used to hook up with?"

Half an hour later, having lured over Lava Lamp Guy with the false promise of ping pong pool and illicit liquids, they cornered him in a bathroom, with Zanthar sitting in the tub restraining him while Paci-Fire struggled to hold his face still.

"Please!" Lava Lamp Guy screamed. "Let me go! I'll do anything you want! My neurologist said I can't take much more of this!"

"Cease your complaints," Paci-Fire said, as 8 Ball took off Lava Lamp Guy's bowler. "You shall not dissuade us. We do this because we have no choice in the matter."

"Why not?!"

"Because none of us feel like making the trip to a dimension with a drugstore."

8 Ball stuck a soup ladle into the open top of Lava Lamp Guy's head and fished around until he got a scoop of the red goo floating around in the thinner orange liquid. Lava Lamp Guy howled in agony. Zanthar heaved a weary sigh.

8 Ball carried the ladle over to where Teeth was sitting on the toilet lid kicking his feet. "Here you go, bud."

Teeth clapped his hands, grabbed an oversized toothbrush, and held it out for 8 Ball to pour the goop on. He scrubbed his teeth until the goop dissolved the adhesive. "Whew!" He stretched his jaw a few times, then jumped to his feet. "Thanks! I was worried I was gonna miss karaoke night." He looked in the sink mirror to scrub off the remaining scraps of adhesive.

8 Ball put Lava Lamp Guy's hat back on. Lava Lamp Guy groaned, "I think I forgot my third husband."

"You've only been married twice," Hectorgon lied.

"Oh." Confused, Lava Lamp Guy said, "Alright."

Teeth muttered, "Blech, divorce memories." He grabbed a bottle of mouthwash to clear out the taste.

"So what happened?" Kryptos asked. He was hovering in the doorway beside Pyronica.

"I'unno. I think the Dimension 46ers were messing around with their portal or something? They opened up a portal here."

"What? Uh-uh," Pyronica said. "It had to be some other dimension. We just invaded them, why would they open the portal again?"

"No no, that sounds like humans to me," Kryptos said. "If one of them pushes a button and immediately dies, the guy standing next to him will go, 'I wonder if it does that every time.' I've seen them do it."

"It was definitely them, I saw that local contractor Bill recruited for the portal who went nuts. Fingers or whoever."

8 Ball groaned. "You mean the guy that invaded the Quadrangle and tried to kill everybody?"

"Yeah. That guy. He told me I wasn't welcome on Earth and chucked a glue bomb in my face. I was like, well alright, buddy, I'm not the one who opened up a portal in your house, you could have just stayed home instead of ruining my day," Teeth said. "I didn't really say that to him. I thought it."

"So now the humans are invading us." Pyronica threw her hands in the air. "Great! This is just terrific! Bill teaches them how to make their own portals, they follow us home, and now we're about to have a pest problem that knows how to use tools! How long is it until this whole place is crawling with humans?! I'm going househunting, how many rooms should I look for? 8 Ball?"

"I'm in."

"Teeth?"

Teeth sighed, but said, "Yeah. The neighborhood's going downhill. Especially if we're gonna have a pest problem."

"Big Z?"

Zanthar gave a thumbs up.

Pyronica looked at Paci-Fire. He averted his gaze. Pyronica said, "Paci?"

Sullenly, he said, "We should ask Keyhole's opinion as well."

She laughed in disbelief. Nobody cared about Keyhole's opinion, he went with whatever everyone else went with. Appealing to Keyhole was just a delaying tactic. "Fine, sure. We'll get Keyhole's opinion."

"I'm not going," Hectorgon said, crossing his arms.

Relieved, Kryptos said, "Yeah. Me neither."

"You don't have to," Pyronica snapped. "You two and Morph can wait for Bill to come back from the dead as long as you want. But the rest of us are leaving."

Kryptos tilted toward the hall, gesturing for Hectorgon to follow him away from the others. "How long do you think we can hold this place without the outerplanars?" The Quadrangle was all that remained of Bill's turf. Without Bill's energy boosting them, none of the shapes were particularly powerful. They'd always depended upon the other Henchmaniacs to guard Bill's stronghold, the heavy-hitters like Zanthar and Pyronica. Even Bill preferred to let them fight his battles when he could; Bill's energy was much vaster, but less renewable.

Hectorgon grimaced uncertainly. "We've gotta think of something fast."

####

Dipper stared at the jug in his lap, ensuring it didn't turn radioactive before they got home. Bill practically seemed to have a radar for Ford—and on top of that, could see through walls—but as far as he cared Dipper may as well have not even existed; so they'd decided that Ford would go in the main door to ensure Bill's attention was turned away while Dipper went through the gift shop and took the elevator down to Ford's study. Ford had told Dipper where to find a lead locker that would keep the Dontium contained until Ford could use it to refuel the Quantum Destabilizer; all he had to do was put it in and stare through the crack until he'd slammed the door shut.

And once they'd decided on that, the drive home had fallen deathly silent.

As the Mystery Shack appeared through the trees, Dipper asked, "We're doing the right thing, right?" His voice was quiet. "I hate him, but—we owe him our lives. And there's that prophecy..."

"Lives can't be owed," Ford said. "Yesterday he may have saved us, but tomorrow he would still destroy our world in a heartbeat. We can be grateful to be alive—but we can't let that stop us."

"So, we're doing the right thing?"

Ford was silent for much longer than Dipper would have liked. "I hope so."

####

(We're moving toward some important stuff!! Hope y'all enjoyed and I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts on this week's chapter!)

[giulliadella]

Speculative Biology of Euclydeans (and Bill Cipher) part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Euclydean society and Bill Cipher's disability

Reading the first part is highly recommended before reading this one, since in that part I explained how Euclydia functions as a dimension.

This part is going to talk about disability, discrimination and eugenics of geometric shapes, so tw if you're sensitive to that.

Society

Euclydeans were intelligent, sapient organisms that lived in a complex society. From Bill directly, we find out that they had schools, jobs, families, social structure and developed medicine. This makes them seem very much like humans here on Earth.

We know that Bill had a family, his mother and father, however, we don't know whether those two were married. So I can't tell you whether the institution of marriage even existed in Euclydia. Bill never talks about marriage, so I'm inclined to believe that they didn't really have wedding vows, but rather, a pair would stay together because they loved each other and for their children.

However, Bill does talk about divorce. He sees his falling out with Stanford as divorcing, so it's pretty clear that Euclydean "marriage" consisted of a pair being together and deciding to spend their life together, but if they wanted to break up, that was called a divorce and they probably had disputes over who gets house and kids.

And when we're speaking of love, Bill claims that he can't see the difference between love and fear in humans. This is kind of true: both intense feelings of love and fear activate the sympathetic nervous system which causes the heart to beat faster, deepens and quickens the breathing and makes us all sweaty and flushed. Love in humans causes the same things to happen as fight or flight response and Bill is too dense to accept that there is a difference.

This, however, tells us that in Euclydeans, feelings of love do not activate their equivalent of fight or flight. Bill is a person very prone to angry outbursts at slightest provocation. But Ford can do a lot more to him than any other person before he gets angry. This means that love in Euclydeans is a soothing feeling. Love makes them feel calmer and safer. Hell, Stanford's mindscape was Bill's safe space. Now, of course, love in Euclydeans isn't all about calm - they also get excited. Excitement upon seeing the one you love, but expressed as happiness, with most likely slower heartbeat. Again, loved ones in Euclydeans are seen as a safe space, a little lighthouse in a stormy sea to hang onto.

Euclydeans also express love in a similar way to mammals: they bring gifts (Bill catching rats and arranging them to form Ford's name), they want attention from the other person and their affection, they share food and drinks and overall want to spend time and have fun with their companion.

But when it comes to anger, fear and joy I don't see any significant differences between humans and Euclydeans. Sadness is a tough one, because Bill expresses it by not expressing it. This man is in so much denial that he could flood the Nile. However, distress in Bill is more or less the same as in humans. He also gets drunk after break up and acts as a drunk person would. This tells me that sadness is expressed somewhat similarly in Euclydeans as in humans with maybe some tweaks here and there.

Bill is obsessed with The Great Gatsby, so much so that he dedicated a chunk of his book to literally citing the second chapter of it. This is a very concerning behavior (but, to be fair, most of his behaviors are). However, I believe that his obsession comes from a feeling of nostalgia and familiarity. When I look at Bill's attire I see a guy wearing a fancy hat and a bow tie which were a staple for evening dress of 1920s gentlemen. He also sports a cane, which they also wore. I can't remember much from The Great Gatsby and I'm too lazy to read it again, but it does take place in 1920s America. So, maybe the society Bill was born into resembled that time period.

If that was the case, the societal structures and certain expectations would have been rigid. Euclydia is very much based on Abbott's Flatland and, while that world is a critique of 1800s Britain, it depicts a very sad and bleak society where everyone has to fit in a role that was determined by their shape. In Flatland, Triangles were the lowest class, with isosceles being the lowest of the low and used as slaves and soldiers, while equilateral Triangles (like Bill) could rise in the society and perform the roles of merchants. Scalene Triangles were considered abominations and were killed as kids.

I don't think that Euclydia was exactly as Flatland. However, some Gravity Falls material point towards triangles being lower class citizens. I sadly don't have Journal 3, but I know about the page where Stanford goes to a second dimension and he talks about how Triangle people are low class citizens and Circle people are high class citizens. This is very similar to Flatland, but what about Bill?

Well, Bill was probably from a lower middle class family. Him wearing oversized shoes that were probably bought on sale or given by someone whose child had grown out of them, speaks about them being kinda poor. Bill was also bullied by his peers at school, but notably by rhombuses and trapezoids. These shapes were one class above him, because they had four sides. Better off kids bullying a poorer, disabled kid is a tale as old as time.

The eugenics policies in Euclydia were probably much less strict than in Flatland. However, if they were anything like laws controlling disabled people in 1920s USA, then Bill and his mother were probably forcibly sterilized because of his mutation.

2. Bill Cipher's disability

Bill was born with a disability - well, to be fair it was more akin to superpower - of being able to see into the "third dimension". Bill could see outside of Euclydean borders because he had his eye placed on the front of his face and not on the side, like other Euclydeans. This allowed him to see the stars of the surrounding universes. (please check part 1 of this analysis where you have detailed sketch of Euclydia in relation to other universes).

However, because of his mutation, even though he had much broader view of the universe, Bill was considered legally blind by his peers. Because his eye was on the front and he could move only sideways, Bill was seeing his home dimension only with his peripheral vision. He could make out basic shapes and colors, but not the details. He probably draws his parents as blue and red triangles because that's how he saw them. He could never see the details of their faces. He could, of course, recognize them by touch, smell and voice, but he could never see them as they could see him.

Bill also behaves a lot like a person with ADHD. Now, I have ADHD and I got that diagnosis when I was SEVENTEEN. My early school years were hell. If Bill does have ADHD, he was probably a problematic child at school and that just added more fuel for his bullies. The lack of control over his emotions and his special interest in stars were definitely a reason for him to get bullied, maybe even more than his disability. There were no schools for special needs children in 1920s USA, which doesn't mean that they didn't exist in Euclydia. But, since little Bill was from a poor family, he didn't get to go those schools if they existed.

Another quirk of his mutation in Euclydia meant that Bill had problems feeding himself. Since Euclydeans use their eye as a mouth, Bill had to eat sideways. Imagine if your mouth was on your back and you had to reach behind to feed. Bill was lucky that his eye was much bigger than other Euclydeans which made his mouth bigger as well. His parents also accommodated his needs - his mom was removing crust from his bread and he was also given his medicine in liquid form.

I made art to explain this more easily:

So, with Bill being bullied and rejected by his society because of his disability (and likely neurodivergency), there was no wonder he wanted to somehow prove himself. Talking about stars and the existence of something outside of Euclydia was considered illegal, but why? Well... stick around for part 5, where I will explain how I believe Bill Cipher accidentally destroyed his entire dimension. It will be fun ;P

@ok1237 and @unoriginal-starwalker I hope you'll enjoy this =D

PS: I hid Dipper and Mabel in the art! Can you find them?

[lucisfavoritedemon]

Through The Portal: Chapter 4

Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Ford must talk Y/n down from making a rash decision. Both must face their tormentor head on.

Pairing(s): Stan x reader (platonic present, romantic past), Ford x reader, Dipper x best friend!reader, Mabel x best friend!reader Bill x reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of hopelessness, torture, mental manipulation, PTSD, unrequited love, flashbacks.

A/N: The events and ideas are based on a theory I have about the Nightmare Realm. This is in no way canonically true, just my theories based on what we canonically know about the Nightmare Realm.

“What!? Are you crazy? I would never even think about doing that to you!” Ford was frantic, he really couldn’t believe I just blurted that out so casually.

“Using the memory gun and erasing the thoughts of Bill, and what I saw and went through in the Night Realm, it might just work. I’m willing to make that sacrifice if it means keeping the rift safe.”

“No! That’s not even an option on my radar.”

“I’m aware, that’s why I’m making it an option.”

“No. I’m not doing that. I care about you too much to erase your memories all willy-nilly like that.”

“It’s not willy-nilly, Ford. I know what I’m asking of you and I know it’s a hard decision but…”

“A hard decision!? It’s an impossible decision that I am refusing to make. I’m not gonna do it, and neither are you. End of discussion.”

I sigh, “may I ask why?”

“Because, if I erased your memory of your time in there and your memories of Bill…you’d forget who I am.”

His words struck me. Was this Ford’s weird way of hinting at something? I shook the thoughts away. Ford and I had been through a lot when it came to Bill, and maybe he finally felt like someone truly understood him fully. He wouldn’t come out and say it, but he was scared of being the outcast he felt he always was.

“Okay, I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s okay. As long as you promise never ask me to do that again.”

I nod, “is there anything else you need from me?”

Ford shook his head, “you can head back upstairs. I just felt like you should know what I found. You and I are of like minds and we both know how evil Bill truly is.”

I nod, “okay, if you need anything from me, you know where to find me.”

We shared an understanding look for each other before I walked back upstairs where the twins started to bombard me with questions and stories again. It felt nice that they were accepting of me into their life.

The next couple of weeks were interesting. Dipper and Ford told me about their adventure playing Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons that was then brought to life because Stan had thrown their dice, making the infinity sided die to roll out of its case. I enjoyed them sharing their adventure with me as I tried to make sense of my night terrors as Mabel called them.

The following week I helped the twins help Stan run for Mayor of Gravity Falls. I supported him 100% as the Stan I knew back in 1973 would have made a great mayor. I didn’t realise how much he had changed, or what little knowledge he had on politics. Still, I was happy to support him no matter what. After saving the kids, he was elected mayor by getting the birdly kiss from the mayor picking eagle. Little did I know Stan had a very extensive criminal record. I guess people do really change more than you realize.

I knew the adventure this week, though, was going to be interesting. I was fast asleep when all of a sudden I was in the middle of the nightmare realm. I feared it was another nightmare, then suddenly it morphed to where I was standing in the middle of a field.

“Y/n?” I heard Ford’s voice call out.

I turned around and saw him standing there, “Ford?”

“Wh-what are you doing here?”

That’s when we heard the malicious laugh of Bill Cipher. It was no coincidence Ford and I were here. Bill had a plan for us. Big plans.

“Well, well, well, well, well, well, well, well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eye. Stanford Filbrick Pines, my ol’ pal. And, could this be, my sweetheart? Y/n? I think it is.”

“Bill Cipher. What do you want from us?” Ford asked, pulling me behind him.

“Oh quit playing dumb, IQ. You two knew I’d be back. You think shutting down that portal can stop what I have planned. I’ve been making deals, chatting with old friends, preparing for the big day. You can’t keep that rift safe forever. You’ll slip up and when you do…” Bill then shows us a tear leading from our world to the nightmare realm, and I feel like I’m gonna puke.

“Get out of here! You have no dominion in our world!” Ford yelled at Bill, keeping a protective hand on me.”

“Maybe not right now, but things change, Stanford Pines,” Bill’s voice morphs into a creepy deep one, “things change.” He then rises into the tears laughing maniacally.

I shoot up screaming. Scared out of my mind. Bill was coming, and I was utterly terrified. The thought of actually facing Bill scared the shit out of me. Bill was someone I never wanted to actually face ever again. The fact that he appeared to Ford and I meant he was growing stronger and stronger with each passing day. That was the thing that scared me the most.

The next morning I could barely get out of bed. I sat there lost in thought, I was unable to fall back asleep after our meeting with Bill. I heard Ford call for a family meeting and I gathered all the courage I could muster and walked downstairs.

“Y-Y/n? Are you alright?” Ford asked, looking at me concerned.

“I’m scared, worried, I didn’t go back to sleep last night if that’s what you mean.” I stated.

Ford felt terrible I had gotten dragged into this, but little does he know I did it to myself. Bill’s infatuation with us was no coincidence.

“Ooh, mysterious scrolls and potions. Are you going to tell us we’re finally of age to go to wizard school? Is there an owl in this bag?” Mabel asked hopping in a chair and started to go through the bag Ford had on the table.

“No, I assure you if there is an owl in this bag, he’s long dead.” Ford took the bag from her.

Dipper and her sat down as I stood behind Ford. He pulled out a scroll paper and showed it to the kids, “Now, tell me children, do any of you recognize this symbol?” He holds up a scroll with Bill on it.

They both gasp before Dipper speaks, “Bill.”

“Y-You know him?” Ford was shocked, and so was I.

“Know him!? He’s been terrorizing us all summer. I have so many questions and theories.” Dipper spoke frantically.

“Dipper’s been pretty paranoid since Bill turned him into a living sock puppet.” Mabel added.

“The important thing is, we defeated him twice.” Dipper interjected.

“Once with kittens, and once with tickles.”

“It was a lot more heroic than it sounds.”

I looked at Ford concerned about the kids. This was serious, the fact they have faced Bill. It means he now has access to their minds, especially Dipper. Ford looked back at me with the same concerned look.

“The fact you have dealt with Bill is gravely serious.” Ford spoke up.

“So, how do you know Bill?” Dipper questioned. I knew I wasn’t ready to talk about that yet, and I knew Ford wasn’t ready either.

“Y/n and I have encountered many dark beings in our time, Dipper. What matters now is, his powers are growing stronger, and if he pulls off his plans, no one in this family will be safe.”

I wanted to punch Ford for confirming my suspicions. He was never good at comforting, so I don’t blame him entirely, but I didn’t want those to be confirmed. Neither did the kids as they gasped at what Ford just stated.

“Fortunately there should be a way to shield us from his mental tricks.” He unrolls a map onto the table, and grabs a marker, “a way to Bill-proof the shack. All I have to do is place moonstones here, here, here, and here, “he draws circles on the map, “sprinkle some mercury, and let’s see. I always forget the last ingredient.” He flips through Journal 1, “ugh. unicorn hair.”

“That’s not, like, rare, is it?” Dipper asks.

“It’s hopeless. Unicorns reside deep within an enchanted glade, and their hairs can only be obtained by a pure, good-hearted person who goes on a magical quest to find them.”

Mabel began screaming at the top of her lungs. She begged Ford to let her go on this quest to get the hair. Naming everything she has done that proves that she is obsessed with unicorns. Then she mentions that she is probably the most good-hearted person in the room. No one argues with her about that. Ford agrees to let her go, giving her the journal and a crossbow.

“Y/n, you wanna come with me and the girls on this quest?”

“I actually need Y/n here with Dipper and I.” Ford answers before I can say anything.

Mabel shrugs and calls her friends and sets off on the quest for unicorn hair. Ford leads Dipper and I down to the second floor of the basement. A place neither of us have seen yet.

“If we can’t Bill-proof the shack, we’re going to have to do the next best thing. We’re gonna have to Bill-proof our minds.” Ford pulls out a device that strangely looks like a torture device.

Ford begins to turn the machine on and places the metal helmet on Dipper’s head. This must have been the device Ford wanted to use on me a couple weeks ago, but worried my mind would still be vulnerable to his torment because of my dreams.

“So, what is Bill exactly?” Dipper questions.

“No one knows for sure. Accounts differ of his true motivations and origins. I know he is older than our galaxy, and far more twisted.”

“No kidding…” I mumble, still traumatized from my extra time with him in the nightmare realm.

Ford gives a sympathetic look before he continues, “not a physical form, he can only project himself through our thoughts through the mindscape. That’s why he wants this.” Ford holds up the rift, “I dismantled the portal, but with this tear, Bill still has a way into our reality. To get his hands on this rift, he would trick or possess anyone.”

“So how do we keep Bill out of our minds?” Dipper inquired.

“There are a number of ways I personally had a metal plate installed in my head.” Dipper doesn’t believe him, so Ford taps his head proving he does, “but this machine is safer. It will scan your mind, biologically encrypting your thoughts so Bill can’t read them.” Ford switches the screen on, “now, say hello to your thoughts.”

Dipper thoughts play across the screen. Some are interesting, others are utterly embarrassing. I felt bad that his poor thoughts were on display for us.

“By the way, you two never told me what your history with Bill was.”

“Dipper, do you trust us?” Ford asks, and he nods, “then you’ll trust that’s not important. Now, focus. It's time to strengthen your mind.”

The three of us sit there for hours as the machine slowly encrypts Dipper’s thoughts. I look over at Ford who has fallen asleep at his desk. “Must be nice to be able to sleep anywhere…or at all…”

“What’s been going on with you lately by the way? You’re more distant and paranoid, especially today.”

“It’s Bill. He scares the heck out of me. The thought of coming face to face with him in a physical form terrifies me.”

“S-so you had a bad experience with Bill too, huh?”

“I-it wasn’t always like that, Dipper…Bill and I were actually very close…then I got a true peak at what he really wanted…on the other side of my portal…he tortured me…Ford and Stan won’t be happy I am telling you this, but you and Mabel were going to find out eventually…”

“W-Wait, your portal? Y-you didn’t go through with Great Uncle Ford?”

I shake my head, “no…I had made my own. I found an old book in my parents' attic. They used to be Anti-Cipherites, or descendants of some. A group looking to take down Bill. It had an encryption on how to summon him. I did, and that night he appeared to me. He showed me his equation, he tricked me with his flattery, saying I didn’t need school or friends. Helping him would give me everything I ever wanted. Including helping my friend so he could finally go home before his brother left for college….that friend was your Uncle Stan…”

Dipper's eyes widened, “h-how old are you then?”

“Technically 61, but the place I was stuck in has no concept of time, so I never really aged…”

Dipper’s jaw dropped, “s-so you knew Grunkle Stan before he was banned from New Jersey?”

I nodded, “Stan lived with me.”

[iridescentttears]

idk about u guys but this feels like a riddle… sommonday, 8 days, guarded secret, december 1964, whistleblower, hyperbole.

okay so if summonday is the 8th day of the week, and the countdown began on release day july 23rd, and then 7 days later on july 30th the countdown ended and another countdown in negative time began. if “time is dead and meaning has no meaning” then everything could be malarkey and there’s not gonna be any way to predict what’s gonna happen. but also, maybe time got reset when it “died” and july 30th became day 1/ the first day of the week. we’re currently at day -5 and 19 hrs.

perhaps (based on nothing but the number 8 maybe-clue) on the -8th day of the countdown which falls on august 7th, they’re will be some form of a release/ another clue that hints closer to the answer.

that would make the time from release day to lost files release day 16 days (two weeks if we are counting summonday as the 8th day of the week)

all i’m saying is this feels very much like the brewings of a modern day cipher hunt like maybe it’ll be less about traveling to physical places like the original but instead some sort of wild goose chase treasure hunt online through hopping websites and soundtracks and books from 1925 and just like mixing the media formats. i think the mixed medias in tbob are so incredible and are really what set this book apart as its completely original entity and not just a sequel to journal 3. and with that shift feels very reflective of the era of time we live in now and in no way tries to recreate any previous era. ALSO all the metaphorical foils and parallels that alex hirsch has been begging us to see through the great gatsby are important. the literary connections between bill and gatsby’s characters AND the real life lesson of: we can’t repeat the past, we can’t get back things we lost, if we choose to live in the past it will lead to our demise but if we look to the future and accept what’s happened, we have a chance of building something amazing. (sooo no season 3 ppl like that’s not what any of this is about)

and and side note if the majority of the public believed the government release of the truth about “summonday” to be hyperbole, what about the minority that took it seriously? who are they? did they decide it together? are they in some sort of group/cult together?

the themes of cults, cult leaders, sociopaths, narcissists, and control come to my mind immediately regarding tbob, great gatsby, and now these weird cryptic messages from jason ritter…

sooooo long winded answer later,

i would love it if the countdown would end in 3 days @ -8 days and for it to lead to another link or to a code or to some sort of next step for us all to work together on tumblr and twitter and reddit and discord and all the platforms. thus ushering in the beginning of a new cipher hunt— but not like a cipher hunt 2. this is alex hirsch we’re talking about. i think the stakes will be different and i think it will be much less about physically finding things in the real world and more focused to online clues. and if it does end up being some sort of wild goose chase treasure hunt online i will be sooooo overjoyed.

cause i think that working together to solve mysteries as a collective is where this fandom shines. we make allies, we learn from each other, y’all are all so fucking funny and smart and passionate and genuine and i love hanging out in this community in the space between space and time.

i would love to go on that adventure with y’all cool internet sleuths!!

[sleepy-spacetronaut]

Info sheet for the Human Bill design + some drawings

*had to censor because I don’t know if it would get me yeeted off Tumblr or not.

The Handyman Bill AU is actually interesting because there are multiple outcome possibilities from there…

For one, I like the idea of Bill exiting the Theraprism to find himself with most of his powers stripped away and be taken in by Soos and Melody to live and work with them in the mystery shack. I can imagine the amount of shenanigans he’d drag the Pines family into.

On the topic of appearance

Ive seen a ton of anthropomorphic Bill Cipher designs over the past weeks, and each has a cool concept with their own specialties (Spoony’s design is particularly notable). My Bill, unfortunately, looks like a middle aged, expired version of the ‘twink Bill’ from around 2015, except with longer hair. This design is different from what I had imagined it to be, so I chose to draw Bill in 3 stages (as a kid, young adult and as a middle aged man. I’ll post his younger form sometimes later) so the character design wouldn’t go to waste.

For the outfit, I just went with what I’ve seen people draw him clothed in and what I thought would look comfortable. I feel like after being trapped in the Theraprism for ‘rehab’, he would be neglectful of his overall appearance, instead of going for fancier stuff like tuxedos or coats and capes, he’d probably enjoy to wear baggy clothes you can easily throw in the washer and won’t require thorough maintenance. (He might look dusty, but he takes baths, I swear—)

They’re a few variations of what he wears while still with the totality of his powers, maybe I will give him another , more elaborate outfit. I have yet to draw a full body version of Bill where I can show his tattoos and scars—currently I must decide on what to do with his face, I have too many single-eyed ocs, and I’d like to add an original touch to him.

When would the AU in which Bill returns take place?

After the Weirdmaggedon occurred, the residents of Gravity Falls were probably still shaken by the amount of strange and atrocious things they experienced. They’re great chances they’d still be triggered when they see cipher script or anything that reminds them of the evil triangle demon.

In the case of my design for him ,and potential fanfiction outline, Bill would have returned into the dimension where the Pines family won two years after the events, so the traumatic events are fresh in their collective memory. So, Bill would be put under intense scrutiny (by everyone but especially Stan and Ford, they’d be mistrustful of him) and be forced to cover up his tattoos when at work…and in general.

Bill would have a certain reluctance to work at the shack, he’d try to scam the customers to get the sales up upon and get caught red handed at it, or try slacking off during his shifts to try to sneak in Ford’s lab in search for anything that could help him restore his power to its former glory.

The highlight of his days would potentially be to annoy the Pines family, bonding with Mabel and Dipper (being let onto their gossip and some activities they do, maybe help out with their studies as well), and ABOVE ALL, to have some alone time at night to stare at the starry sky.

Psychological traits and etc.

As for his personality, he would be a lot less flamboyant, still as sassy as Weber though, perhaps grouchy from being forced to interact with ‘insufferable sentient meat sacks trapped in a cage of bones with a squishy exterior’. From the majority of cases I have observed, Bill keeps a nonchalant attitude, he is fairly collected and only truly lets out his emotions when it comes to fits of anger, jealousy or, in rare cases, sadness (often related to flashbacks of his childhood or his parents in the Euclidean world).

But what if it wasn’t the case? What if instead, Bill, as a human, would be unable to control his emotions? I had a theory that Bill Cipher has a higher pain tolerance while in his triangular, two-dimensional form partially from his powers but also because of his body isn’t entirely physical, and so it may lack several sensory receptors.

His liking for pain may be due to the fact he could barely feel anything (or plainly because he’s a masochist. Who knows.) It would qualify as a new and interesting experience for him, and he is a curious creature who also ‘efs around to find out’.

However, once he gains a physical human body, he will be faced with various problems humans have: muscle pain, bloating, cramps, eye sores, back sores, hair loss, acne, sickness, getting cuts and bruises easily…and never mind gravity, which would be a new inconvenience for a being who used to float almost 24/7.

So Bill wouldn’t be able to control his emotions because of how humans tend to feel a lot,he’d be forced to resort to masking and even then he wouldn’t be able to hold it for long. Plus, when he was a metaphysical shape, he had a bigger pain tolerance by contrast to when he gained a human body with hundreds of touch and pain receptors—Drinking with his eyes won’t be working no more, ouch!

He’d easily get a meltdown because of overstimulation (from the environment, from interaction with people he mostly hates or dislikes, and from being able to feel a lot more sensations than while in his bi-dimensional, triangular form) and have trouble regulating his body.

Additionally, Bill heavily relied on his magic powers to get stuff he needed or to protect himself, but now that a great chunk of his magic abilities would be gone , it would require more effort from him to do anything. And if he ends up activating the remaining power, the constant use of it would always backfire as his human shell isn’t made to contain the pressure of magic, resulting in cramps and stomach issues.

As a final note to this, in the show it had been shown that he is short tempered and easily leans into his emotions (especially anger) but can use his magic in order to ‘blow off some steam’. (Remember Time Baby and his whole squadron of men—except like for Blendin, getting erased?) However now, he cannot blow up a planet just because he’s having a tantrum, so he would most likely just stomp the ground while shrieking like a five year old.

Yes, when put under pressure, the evil Triangle becomes a CRYangle.

P-S. : He’s trying his best, plz be nice to him.

Edit: Woops it’s Blendin , not Baldwin, he’s not bald yet.