#it turns out nerds like complicated things so people like me can be easily swindled

[amplexadversary]

I've come to a realization about myself that I'm not very fond of.

It's the fact that I've fallen for a lot of works that make big promises and setups without really having a solid plan to deliver.

When I was in high school it was Moffat's Doctor Who and Sherlock, which was especially egregious because it came out later that the fucker was basically stealing writing credibility from other people.

Moffat would frequently only write the beginning of many of "his" famous stories, including The Empty Child/The Doctor Dances, and left it to other writers to wrap them up into a satisfying conclusion.

This made him look like he could deliver more than he actually could and led to a lot of disappointment when Sherlock and his run of Who hit a point where it was time for a payoff neither he nor the other writers had, so they just kept escalating and diverting attention with new wacky things to distract from the fact that they didn't actually have anything in mind that they were building up to.

Overwatch has a similar problem with a different source. It's a game that attracted its initial fanbase with a lot of characters that were really interestingly designed with exciting backstory hooks and the promise of an overarching epic plot.

Once again, all of this setup was set up without actually having a planned destination, or even a general direction. Instead of building on what it already had down, the game offered more of the same combined with minuscule trickles of hints and character interactions and things the fans concluded based on gameplay and extrapolation on what scarce info there was. Sure, anything concrete on one's top favorites was rare, but chances are you would like a good majority of the other characters enough that it was still fun when something new focused on them, and occasionally everyone would get a new voice line or interaction that felt like it gave new information.

Overwatch was able to keep going on that good will for a while before people started getting disappointed by the lack of substance, the realization that a majority of the information that was all people had to go on was not considered significant or even canon by the writing team, and that the game kept putting out hooks in the form of other characters much faster than they followed up on any of them.

My experience with the last one in particular was that I eventually ended up getting really frustrated with every new character because development on everyone was getting so spread thin that they just felt like one other body to compete with my faves (this frustration turned to resentment when a character that filled multiple story niches of one of my least favorites was released and ended up very popular; with Ashe being a second hawt chicc DPS in addition to Widow I was seeing a lot less of many characters I was much more interested in. Suddenly half the character interactions I was seeing included a character I really did not care about, and characters I wanted to see intereact because they were interesting would rarely both be picked in the same match. This also became a problem with how much the devs struggled to balance shield tanks and "off-tanks," of which I found the latter much more interesting but almost never saw in actual gameplay.)

The advantage of these big ensemble cast pieces was the fandom, who typically produced an impressive quantity of beautiful fanart and exciting and heartfelt writing that filled in the yawning gaps in canon. Even better, everyone had a different take, so it was easy to pick and choose the approaches that have persona appeal, most of which were pretty clever because all of them had to be extrapolated from the same scarce information.

The pitfall of this, which may be obvious to someone reading the previous paragraph, was that when the fandom outpaces the actual writers with such ease and variety, it puts a LOT more pressure on the writers to deliver something that stands up to the top 30%~ish at least of the fanworks, or to at least pick the most interesting ideas to follow up on, which makes it very disappointing when they don't... do that.

This situation actually informs what I suspect might be some of my more controversial opinions on shipping and fanon:

The first being, there are cases where fans can outpace and outperform canon to such a degree that, the fans effectively out-vote the author. If a reasonably obvious assumption based on all of the available information has been circulating long enough, without anything new in the work to challenge it, elaborate, or present a different perspective, people are going to consider the most likely explanation to be canon and are going to push back HARD against an alternative unless the alternative is SIGNIFICANTLY MORE CLEVER AND INTERESTING THAN THE FANON. Yes, this means even dumb fanon often deserves the foothold it has because the writers couldn't be assed to put something there in time. This is a problem with the WRITERS, NOT the fandom. It wouldn't happen if the writers returned to each character frequently enough, set up better, and made sure to make some kind of forward movement on the regular.

The second is that there are ships that I have an immense double-standard over based on who is pushing them. I'm going to use one I've been pretty blatant about my feelings for as an example: Gency, or Genji and Mercy from Overwatch. When I see it from fans, it's fine. It's by far the least interesting pairing for either of its members, but I've seen some really impressive things done with it. Sometimes I even like it, especially when the person in question engages with the more thorny elements of it because they clearly like it, such as how fucked up it is that she's fucking her patient. When the official writers do it though, the fact that they've specifically passed over every other more interesting pairing for this one, and are pretending the thorniness that could make it interesting isn't there, and mostly seem interested in doing a generic het couple thing with the woman's attractiveness being the driving force behind it? You fucking hacks, get on AO3 like the rest of us, learn to write something fucking interesting, or leave it fucking platonic.

When Overwatch started engaging in more and more FOMO bullshit, starting with select cosmetics that would only be obtainable within a short timeframe and that would never come back and culminating in the OW2's bullshit battle pass, I stopped playing, but still had a craving for something similar, because the fanworks were really good and I do like a pretty video game with interesting designs and rich, colorful environments.

So when a couple of friends of mine suggested I casually try out Genshin, I gave it an honest go. I definitely did not play the game like it was intended to, and it was in fact really fun for a while. I love the environment design, the exploration mechanics, and the fact that you can climb almost anything. And it seems that Genshin is actually largely avoiding most of the no-plan pitfalls because they published a fucking plot outline before the game had a second chapter.

The problems with Genshin, though, include the problem you get with an ever expanding ensemble cast, where there isn't ever a point where the writers stop adding extraneous characters, focusing on them for a while, and dropping them for new ones you're supposed to start caring about. I think they really went off with Itto. And Venti. And Kaeya. And Aloy, even though she's a crossover character and nobody likes her (incorrect opinion but whatever). And there were a ton of other characters that I either liked right away but not as much (Sucrose, Xingqiu, Fischl, Sara, Kuki, so many more). There were a few characters I actively disliked, but after a certain point I didn't have to see much of them.

This is compounded by the fact that the game wants to have power creep despite being a single fucking player game, so they tailor challenges to strongly favor the kit of their latest flavor of the month. Which *still* wouldn't be a problem for me, because I enjoy the challenge of trying to win with my favorites even if it means I have to draw out the fight by playing defensive. Except, Fuck You Specifically, Morgan, we decided that our main method of adding difficulty is going to be a fucking time limit to many fights, so the only valid approach to gameplay is DPSmaxxing. On a single player game. Yeah, fuck you too Mihoyo, that's such a dick move I'm deadnaming your company.

I fucking hate the concept of Gatcha games, frankly it's insane that I gave this one a try, and honestly I hope in 15 years someone steals the source code and dolls it up with an alternate means of progression that isn't so damn tedious because I did play the SHIT out of the exploration sections of the game.

I was really frustrated with Genshin's fucking exploitative monetization scheme, but for the most part I only really liked a few of the big ticket characters, and so was pretty much able to put together enough currency to get all of the ones I wanted (though as far as support characters went, there are a few I wanted but never got, and it took me like half a year before getting an actual healer. Fuck Gatchas man). Combined with the balance pushing constantly getting new characters I mostly did not want so hard and refusing to let me win a single player game with my favorites, that still ended up being a negative for me, despite the fact that I could effectively game their pity system through pure budgeting. (In total I only spent around $60 on that game, and $30 of it was for my friend's account because she came just short of a guarantee of a character she was in lesbians with.)

And yeah since I was in that game for the characters (and the mountain climbing), the fact that each of the ones I liked kept getting overtaken by new ones eventually put me off it. The main story is okay, slow moving, and kept moving on to new people and leaving my favorites behind, so even if it makes its payoff, they lost me along the way.

And then there's the franchise that really should have been able to AVOID being a no-payoff trap, fucking superhero movies. I really liked early MCU. The characters were fun, the first phase had a plan and mostly stuck the landing, and fans were making a ton of cool shit for it. Phase two put out some great movies until it didn't, its big crossover was a mess, and basically what plans the writers had got fucked by executive meddling. Which is especially stupid because these dwinguses literally had just shy of a century's worth of playbooks, complete with plenty of feedback on what worked, what didn't, and interesting things to do with the characters. Which all got whittled down, genericized, and had all of the little set dressing and costuming and elements that support the storytelling whittled out because execs can't tell the difference between people picking up on foreshadowing and people telling you your fave died before you got to the part with their death flags.

[videogamelover99]

Waking Days Ch1 - Enter Bill Cipher

A/N: Helllooo and thank you for being so patient with me. I know, I know, with that little joke I had it coming, but look, I’ve finally delivered!

I took a long while with figuring out a title for the long fic, and I may change it later, but this is what I’ve got for now, so feedback is appreciated. (And yes, the chapter title is literally the same one as from Flat Dreams. I am a nerd.) Enjoy, you guys. :3

Warning: Implied substance abuse. 

AU by @doodledrawsthings. Based on Flat Dreams by @pengychan.

“He that sleeps feels not the tooth-ache.”

W. Shakespeare, Cymbeline. 

Ever since he took that deal, he’d been regretting it.

Looking back now, he would take a million years in that stone tomb over what that giant salamander had subjected him to. He hadn’t expected on getting his power back, not really, but the least that jerk could do was give him a proper form. Hell, or at least keep him a triangle. But he’d never expected this. He’d been thrown into this form with no directions, no explanation except “You must absolve your crime.”

Yeah, great, what the hell did that even mean.

He hated it. He hated everything about this stupid body, about this weak pitiful meat sack that frilly asshole decided to shove him in. He had nothing, no power, no immortality, no means of escape. And if that wasn't enough, he was slowly dying. He could even feel it. The slow, painful way each cell was loosing its energy. In just a few decades he would degrade, grow cold and end up feeding worms before he knew it, if this sack of flesh didn't give up on him even sooner. After watching humans for so long, he'd seen just how easily they could die, hell he'd even been the cause of a lot of them. He'd found it funny, how easily they can break.

He didn't now.

He hated this. He was Bill Cipher, bringer of nightmare, All-Seeing Eye, not some...some puny mortal who couldn't tie his own shoelaces. Stuff like that was just annoying. There was no point in knowing what humans did with their shoes, so he hadn't bothered looking. Now he could barely tie a knot, not until Shooting Star had shown him.

Mabel Pines was the easiest to deal with. Innocent and trusting, the kid was the easiest to get on his side. Was it manipulation? Sure. No surprise there. That didn’t mean he didn’t like the kid, though the whole defeating him part did put a damper on things. Because that spray paint had hurt, damn it.

Still, out of all the Pines, Shooting Star was the most agreeable one, no doubt about that. Neither Fez not Sixer would try anything, not with the kid involved. Security measure, in a way.

That's what he told himself most times when the brat decided to insert herself into his day like some kind of annoying dandelion that suddenly sprang on the lawn. Not needed, and obnoxious to boot.

The chess game had been easy, and Bill had been pretty bored anyway. Making fun of one of the Pines and getting something out of it was almost too good of a deal to pass up, even if that something was just a lousy sweater. Still, the kid knew how to make him look good, even in yarn.

The chess thing...Whatever it was, continued, as did the numerous sweaters the kid somehow managed to conjure in record time. And, okay, Bill had to admit it was fun. Shooting Star was nowhere near the most impressive opponent he'd played against, but boy if she wasn't interesting. The kid seemed to find the most ridiculous ways to lose, including chasing off his knight with her king back to his side of the board. Of course, that had been pretty much suicide, but Star satisfied herself with a really stupid loss, and Bill wasn't exactly complaining, not while her sweaters were so damn soft.

Huh, that was a weird thing to like. Must be a human thing.

…

“Watcha doing?”

Bill opened his eyes, but didn’t bother getting up when Mabel sat down next to him, letting her legs dangle from the edge of the roof. “Contemplating your pointless existence.”

“Rude.” The kid swung her legs a bit, before crawling over to sit next to him, the wood creaking under her weight. “Hey, are you okay?”

“I’m slowly dying.” He hadn’t meant that to come out as easily as it did. Mortality was making him lose his grip.

“Well, yeah, that’s kind of a thing humans do, y’know?” Bill closed his eyes again. He didn’t want to have this conversation, not with Shooting Star of all people. “Though we usually ignore it.”

“How?” No, stop. Ignoring what this body did to him would be almost the same as giving up. Which was ridiculous. He was going to find a way out, he knew it, he just needed to-

“Well, stop thinking about it, first of all.” The lighthearted tone meant that the kid was teasing him. Mabel Pines. Laughing at him. “You’re not going anywhere right now, so relax! It’s not like whining about it will help, ya big nerd.”

Bill didn’t respond, choosing to ignore the little girl and hopefully preserve any dignity he had left. Even if her laugh made him wanna throw her off the roof.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” No response. “Come on, is Silly Billy sulking again? I know what he needs: a sticker, that’s what!” With a small ‘boop’, Bill felt her stick something on his nose. He tore the sticker off, crumbing it and tossing it her way.

���Didn’t I tell you not to do that?”

Mabel grinned, looking pleased at finally getting a reaction out of the demon. “Do what?”

“You’re thirteen, but you act like a five year old.”

The girl’s grin fell, telling that the quip had met its mark. “You’re the one to talk.” She grumbled, poking him in the side, hard. The demon yelped, not expecting that, his body giving a spasm, forcing him to finally sit up and wrap his arms around his sides. Completely on impulse. Sometimes, human instincts were just really, really inconvenient.

Mabel blinked, looking from Bill to her hand and then back to Bill. Her face slowly stretched into a wide grin. “So you’re ticklish even out of my brother’s body.”

“Mabel Pines, I swear if you-No! No-AHAHAHA!” The kid pounced, digging her fingers into his sides, making the demon erupt with uncontrollable laughter. Aren’t people supposed to laugh at what goes their way? This was torture. The demon was hyper-aware of every sensation, of every finger that managed to dig in-between his ribs. His arms flailed around, trying to throw the kid off, but she was too damn persistent. In what felt like centuries Star finally relented, letting the demon push her away and laying down next to him, giggling as well. Bill collapsed into a boneless heap, trying to catch his breath. He was supposed to be angry, livid even, for letting any mortal touch him. Yet he couldn’t even fight off the grin that was left on his face. “I hate you.”

“Aw, don’t be like that! I was just trying to make you feel better.”

“How the hell was that supposed t-” Bill frowned, cutting himself off. Despite the heat on his face and the way his body still heaved for oxygen, there was something different about it. It was like out of all the 630 newtons gravity had dumped on him, half of that was thrown off. He did feel better, though that made no sense. “Hold on, how did you do that?”

Mabel shrugged. “I think it’s like, hormones and stuff? I don’t know, you’re the all-knowing demon. But it’s a human thing. Laughing just makes us feel better.”

Bill stared at her for a long time. Of course, laughing had made him feel better too, back when he was still all-powerful and all that jazz, but-

Liar.

He winced, ignoring the voice.

“Hey, don’t get all nihilistic on me again! And I was being such a good therapist.” The girl crossed her arms over her chest when she saw Bill’s questioning stare. “What, I know some complicated words! Someone has to understand what my nerdy bro is saying.”

“Yeah, you do.”

Mabel bristled. “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?”

Bill grinned at her, folding his arms behind his head. “Oh, ya know...starting to wonder which one of you is the smart pines twin after all.”

Star didn’t respond, so Bill pushed on. “I mean, for all the brains you claim Pine Tree has, he was a heck of alot easier to swindle. Don’t get me wrong, you handed that rift to me on a silver platter,” a wince, “But I had to put on a whole other meat suit for ya to fall for it. Ol’ Dipping Sauce took the bait without me even bothering with all that. And! You still figured out a way to stop me. Hinder me. Whatever.” Couldn’t give her too much credit there, the third dimension was kinda out of his veil of expertise at the time. “From what it looks like, you’re the one with the brains around here.” Bill finished, looking up at the kid. She was staring back blankly at him “Uh, Shooting Star?”

Despite the fact that he knew he was laying it on thick, the demon had to admit, the kid was perceptive, sometimes even more than all the other Pines smashed together. That was what he should have watched out for.

“That’s what you said to Grunkle Ford as well, huh?”

Bill froze, before giving himself a mental kick in the head. He was playing it up too much. Of course...

Mabel smiled, the smile too sad to be her own. “You said all that nice stuff about him being ‘special’ and ‘smart’ and he believed you.” She got up. “And I thought- no that’s stupid. Dipper was right, I shouldn’t have bothered.” the girl turned to leave when a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, clutching it a little too tightly.

“Don’t.” he hated how his own voice sounded, almost pleading, and it was stupid, because who said he really needed this kid? So his original plan to get her on his side crashed and burned, so what? She was just a stepping stone, a way for him to finally get out of this body, and then he wouldn’t need her anymore. Bill Cipher didn’t need anyone.

It’s just that being left alone on the roof all the sudden seemed like the worst thing that could possibly happen.

Mabel shook his hand off, but didn’t leave, turning back to him. Then she suddenly reached to wipe her face with her sleeve, and Bill’s chest constricted. It was like something inside of it was taken into a cold, vice grip, and he couldn’t shake it away. What was that? Why can’t I-

You know exactly what it is.

The girl sniffed, finally letting her arm fall back by her side, her face a little redder than normal. “I don’t...I don’t want to be fake friends with you.” she looked away, her face scrunched up. “If you don’t want to be my friend that’s fine, just don’t- don’t fake it.”

Bill scowled, and turned away from Star’s snot-covered face. It was really annoying, for some reason. Her leaking.

Mabel slowly came to sit next to him, tossing her legs over the edge and wiping off the stray wetness with her sleeve. “I wanna help you,” she said after a while, both of them staring straight ahead, at the last stray rays of the darkening sky. “But I don’t know if-”

“Why?”

The girl shrugged a bit to Bill’s question. “I’m Mabel Pines. It’s what I do.”

The demon grimaced, feeling angry at that statement. “It’s not gonna do ya any favors.”

Star shrugged again, letting her head fall on his shoulder. “That’s okay.”

He didn’t push her off.

...

"Just who does she think she is?!" Bill threw the scissors across the room, smashing them into the far wall and making a severely satisfying dent in the wood. Would probably get him in a big one with Fez later, but at the moment he was too livid to care. How dare she? How dare she!? "I did everything she wanted and she- and-" You did not. Bill scowled, his hands clenching at his sides. Get lost. You invoked me. How many times do I have to tell you to leave? As many as you think will satisfy you. Bill's eyes shot to the water tank in the corner. Small, pink creature met his gaze. He was almost tempted to pick up the scissors and throw them at the tank instead, but that would definitely not go well with Fez, and he wasn't exactly eager to sleep outside tonight. You are lying to yourself. Bill bristled. What the hell do you know about- What do you think she wanted? A better world! I made that happen! There was a light ticking sound. That bastard was laughing at him. Not everyone shares your definition of "better".

No. No no no. He was sure he's made it-

“Make it worth something.”

He had. If she couldn't see that, then that was her problem. They ruined everything, and after all they did to her, she still-

Liar.

“I don’t CARE!” Bill rezched up to pull viciously on his hair, but the sharp stab of pain did nothing to block out that voice. “You act like you know everything. Well, YOU DON’T KNOW A GODDAMN THING! SHE DOESN’T KNOW A GODDAMN THING! And if you THINK you can TELL ME WHAT TO DO, WELL, you’re even MORE OF AN IDIOT THAN I THOUGHT. Now get the FUCK OUT OF MY HEAD.”

There was no answer. Bill breathed heavily, surrounded by silence.

...

The kid had the scissors. She'd taken them long before Fordsy could even lay eyes on them, and that was probably for the better. He needed them. And by a stroke of luck, they were just within his reach.

Bill tripped over a ball of loose yarn, shaking off the string and cursing under his breath. The kid was fast asleep, curled up in her make-shift nest of stuffed animals whose soulless, button eyes were definitely following him around. Probably cursed. Man, he had to get one of those someday.

There was no risk of waking up Star, the kid slept like a dead rock most of the time. The one he didn’t want to wake was Pine Tree, because no doubt the brat would go running to Sixer as soon as he saw Bill doing something “suspicious”. Not that this was the most inconspicuous thing he’d do, but one paranoid wreck he could deal with. Two was pushing the limit

Bill finally shook off the clingy pink thread around his ankles, kneeling next to Mabel’s supplies drawer to shuffle through its contents. Stickers, glitter glue, googly eyes all covered his hands, but no scissors were found. Where were the damn things?

Bill cast a look back at the ball of yarn he’d stepped in, and at the plastic bag next to it it had apparently rolled out of. He knelt and rummaged through the bag, careful with the crinkling plastic. Finally he’d found them, sticking out of another fluffy ball of yarn. It was just like the kid to use a reality-altering gadget as actual scissors. The demon freed them from their tangled prison, turning to leave the room. He cast one last look at Shooting Star, still sound asleep, breath whistling through her teeth. Then he left, not bothering to close the door behind him.

He didn’t notice as Mabel suddenly sat up, staring at the now empty hallway.

…

Liam closes the book he was reading, letting his eye fall shut. “Alright, that’s it. Now you have to go to bed.”

“Whaaat? But that one was short! Tell me another!”

“Billy…”

“I brought you candy! So you have to!” Bill scoots closer to him, staring into his brother’s eye eagerly, until Liam has not choice but to cave in, giving a small laugh.

“Alright, alright. A short one.”

The younger brother beams at him, eye crinkling. “Do the one about the pirates, I love that one.”

“I know, I’ve read it to you like ten times already.”

“Then make it the eleventh.”

Liam puts down the book he was holding, grabbing another one from the shelf before settling down into the pillow. Bill scoots next to him, burying them both under the blankets and leaning on the other’s side. The bigger triangle opens the cover, his palm hesitating on the first page. Why isn’t he reading?

“You can’t keep doing this, Billy.”

Bill freezes, shuddering. It was suddenly cold. No, not cold. It was really hot. There was something very, very wrong…

“What do you-”

“You’ve slept for so long. Maybe it’s time to wake up.”

No. No no- “No. No, don’t- I don’t want-” The boy’s tumbling phrases die in his throat as he looks up at the other, and his eye shrinks into a pinprick at the sight.

Liam’s shape is crumbling, burning away like singed paper, the edges of the triangle darkening and curling inward.

And it was like Liam didn’t even notice. He just stared at him with that sad, regretful eye. Like he didn’t notice he was- “Wake up, Billy.”

“NO!” Bill made a grab for him, for whatever was left of his brother, but it was too late. There was nothing but ashes. “No, no, no, make it stop, please, I-”

Wake up, Billy.

The bedsheets caught on fire, angry red flames dancing on the covers. It burned, it burned more than Bill ever thought it would. “Come back! I didn’t mean to!”

There was nothing but that unbearable heat, eating him inside out, turning his thoughts to dust, just like they did to-

Wake up!

Bill screamed.

…

And promptly fell on the floor.

The demon lay there for awhile, rubbing his now bruised side. He didn’t remember what that nightmare was about, except that it was gonna keep him awake for the rest of the night. Which means he slept a total of- Bill unburied his face from the blanket, casing a bleary look at the cuckoo clock mounted on the wall. Four hours. Not bad, but hardly enough for this stupid body to be satisfied with.

Sleep was one of the most annoying things this body had him dealing with. The absurd amount of time humans spent unconscious (eight to nine hours, seriously? Most other beings could live off of four) used to be extremely handy. After all, what was a dream demon without dreams to infiltrate? Every time someone fell asleep, it was practically an open invitation for him to sneak in and rummage through their brain without consequence.

And he hated being on the receiving end of it. It was like the universe itself was setting up some big joke. Bill Cipher in need of sleep. Ha ha, hilarious.

He loathed every time he got put under. Bill of all knew how vulnerable humans were when asleep. It was what got him the upper hand, but now, it was unnerving. He had no idea of what was going on around him, and that was the least of it. The nights when he didn’t dream of anything were probably the most bearable.

Because when he did, they were always nightmares.

Aaand there was the punchline. Bill Cipher, harebringer of nightmares was suddenly on the receiving end of them. Pure irony at its finest. He’d appreciate the humor more if he didn’t wake up screaming every night.

It’d been so long since he knew what nightmares were like, anyway, long before he’d-

The long forgotten screams echoed in his head, and Bill pushed them away, deep enough that he wouldn’t have to hear them anymore. He got up, his side still aching from the fall, tossing the flimsy blanket aside on the floor. There was no point in going back to sleep. He couldn’t even if he’d tried, and besides, who knew if that nightmare came back again? Bill would take the horrible weight of exhaustion over that any day.

The demon stumbled into the kitchen, shuffling through the shelves in search of enough caffeine to make that unexplainable pressure on the back of his head go away for at least a few hours. He cracked open one of the top cabinets, and froze. Huh. So that’s where Fez keeps all his poison. There sure is a lot of it.

It felt like he’d stood there forever, starting them, the dark glass glinting under the dim lighting. The flickering light of bright blue flame still danced behind his eyes.

Bill reached for the bottle.

…

“Cipher? What the hell are ya- Oh jeez, what a mess. You know I’m charging ya for the booze, right?”

…

The bottles were gone, and he was on the couch again, the blanket he’d kicked away tossed over him.

At least the splitting headache chased away the voices.

…

“I wanna see him.”

The ancient one lifted his tale, revealing a small, grey triangle underneath. Bill Cipher looked more awake than he had all this time, not looking at the Axolotl, but rather somewhere beyond, into the dull void that stretched out for eternity. The boy’s eye was narrowed, hiding whatever emotion he didn’t want the other to see. Of course, the ancient one could still tell.

“You- you said if I wake up, I’ll get to see him.” It was a question, despite not sounding like one, carrying something almost akin to hope. “That I’ll find out where he is.”

“You will. In time.”

The boy finally looked at him, the single wide eye not muddled anymore by sleep. “So if I leave, then-”

“If you leave, you will gain a new form. Absolve your crime, and you shall see your brother again.”

Bill turned away, looking unsure. But he was ready. This was the first time that he ever talked about leaving this bubble without denial or anger, but as a possibility. But that possibility was all that was needed for the bubble to crack, and the illusion to shatter. If Cipher truly wanted to leave, that meant that the dream wasn’t enough anymore to satisfy him. That did not mean that his denial would end, but it was cracking, just like the bubble.

“Ok.” The voice was small, but the weight it carried could not be compared to anything else found in the void. “Deal.”

...

Bill Cipher woke up.