#it’s because he’s in a trap that is triangular

[jokerislandgirl32]

He’s Been Imprismed…

Get it?

[trulyumai]

planting chaos

pairing: Stanford Pines / Reader (+Infatuated Bill Cipher)

synopsis: Bill cypher and Ford are buddies, right? And what kind of buddy wouldn’t enter inside their pals mind and kind, of maybe, well… fall in love with their special buddies significant other!? Ha!

warnings: none!

a/n: This was a request, thank you anonymous!

Chapter One: Oh Great Eye o’ Mine!

Gravity Falls was eerily quiet, save for the rustling of leaves and the distant sound of water flowing in the stream. In the shadows, a figure stood out—an odd triangular shape with a single eye, casually perched on a branch. Bill Cipher had found himself unusually fascinated with the mind of one Stanford Pines, the brilliant but guarded scientist. As he dug deeper into Ford’s psyche, he stumbled upon a hidden gem—a thought, a feeling, a name: you.

He had seen you around the Pines’ household, quiet and often retreating into the safety of your own thoughts. You were the type to fade into the background, unnoticed yet undeniably present. Bill couldn't resist the thrill of a challenge. With a grin, he dove into Ford's mind, the connection growing stronger as he navigated through memories and emotions.

—————————————

Your first real encounter with Bill came on a chilly evening. You were sitting alone on the porch, reading a book, when the air shimmered and twisted. Suddenly, Bill appeared before you, his form vibrant and unsettling.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he said, tilting his head with a mischievous smile. "A shy little butterfly trapped in a web of words. How quaint!"

You jumped, nearly dropping your book. “What do you want?” Your voice was barely a whisper, laced with fear.

“Want? Oh, darling, I just wanted to meet the intriguing mind that’s been wandering around Ford’s thoughts!” His tone was playful, but there was an edge of something deeper—curiosity.

Days turned into weeks, and Bill began visiting you more often. At first, he was a chaotic force in your life, bringing an unpredictable energy that both frightened and fascinated you. He would often joke about your timid nature, but there was a softness in his gaze when he looked at you.

“Why do you hide in the shadows?” he asked one evening, floating beside you as you sat on the porch. “You’ve got such potential! So much to offer!”

You sighed, feeling exposed under his intense gaze. “It’s just… easier to blend in. No stresses, no expectations. People don’t see me and that’s okay.”

“But I see you,” he insisted, a genuine sincerity lacing his playful demeanor. “And I like what I see. You’ve got real spark, Kiddo!” He twirled a shadowed hand before continuing.

“So much untapped talent waiting to be broken into!”

You couldn’t help but blush at his words, a mixture of flattery and confusion swirling within you. As the days passed, you found yourself looking forward to his visits, despite the chaos he embodied.

——————————————————

As Bill became a constant presence in your life, you opened up to him in ways you hadn’t anticipated. You shared your dreams, your fears, and even your thoughts on Ford’s experiments. Bill, in return, revealed fragments of his own existence—his chaotic nature, his longing for connection, and, surprisingly, his loneliness.

“Even a demon needs a friend,” he said one night, his tone shifting from teasing to sincere. “And you, my dear, are the most fascinating being I’ve encountered.”

You could feel your heart race. “I’m just… me. Why would you want to be friends with someone like me?”

“Because you’re different. You see the world through a lens that’s uniquely your own. That’s rare and delightful,” he replied, floating closer, his eyes glinting with mischief yet softened by warmth.

As your connection deepened, Ford’s paranoia began to grow. He sensed something amiss with Bill’s presence around you and his mind. Late one night, Ford confronted Bill, accusing him of manipulating you.

“Stay away from her, Bill! She doesn’t understand the danger you pose!” Ford’s voice was sharp, filled with protective anger.

Bill simply laughed, unfazed. “Oh, Ford, you worry too much! She’s not just a pawn in my game. She’s special.” His eyes flickered toward you, who stood off to the side, uncertain.

Feeling cornered, Ford’s protective instincts kicked in, and he attempted to sever the connection Bill had forged with you. “You need to leave. Now.”

The tension reached a breaking point. Ford attempted to trap Bill, hoping to contain him once and for all. But in the chaos, Bill turned on Ford with a predatory grin.

“Did you really think you could control me?” he taunted, the air crackling with his energy. “You’re the one who’s been playing with fire!”

You watched in horror as Ford’s plan unraveled, but in the midst of the chaos, Bill’s gaze met yours. There was an intensity there, a desperation that tugged at your heart.

“Join me, won’t you?” he said, a wild glint in his eye. “Let’s make our own destiny! You could be my right-hand gal, and we’d be unstoppable!”

The words echoed in your mind as the battle raged on. Part of you was terrified by the implications, yet another part—one that had slowly grown fond of the chaos Bill represented—was intrigued.

“Bill, wait!” you shouted, stepping forward. “This isn’t what I wanted! You can’t just hurt him!”

Bill’s expression softened slightly, the chaos around him fading for a moment. “I don’t want to hurt you, my dear. I want to show you a world beyond the ordinary—a place where you can truly shine.”

But you were torn. Ford had been a protector, a lover… he had trusted you. “I… I can’t just abandon him,” you murmured, glancing back at Ford.

“Then you’ll always be stuck in the shadows,” Bill replied, frustration mingling with a hint of pleading in his voice. “You could be so much more with me! I can help you break free from your fears.”

In that moment, everything shifted. You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your decision pressing down on you. “I won’t choose chaos over what’s right. I won’t let fear dictate my life anymore.”

Bill’s expression darkened, frustration boiling over. “You’re making a mistake! You could have everything!” His voice was laced with desperation, but you stood firm.

“I don’t want everything if it means hurting someone I care about,” you said, your heart pounding. “You may think chaos is freedom, but it’s not worth losing my humanity over.”

With that, you turned away from Bill, stepping closer to Ford. The atmosphere shifted, and you could sense the tension between the two powerful beings. Bill’s laughter echoed, but there was an edge of sorrow in it.

——-—————

The battle reached a climax, and Ford managed to contain Bill, pushing him back into the dimensional rift he had come from. As the rift closed, you felt a pang of regret. You had chosen loyalty over chaos, but the glimpse of what could have been lingered in your heart.

In the days that followed, you struggled with the aftermath. Ford recognized the toll it had taken on you. “You did well, standing up for what you believed in,” he said, his voice softened by understanding. “But it’s okay to feel conflicted about Bill.”

“I just wish he could have seen things differently,” you replied, looking up at the stars that twinkled above. “There was something in him that… wanted connection.”

Ford nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “He’s a complex being. But you chose wisely, and that’s what matters, sweetheart.

Though Bill was gone, you felt a lingering sense of connection, an echo of his chaotic spirit within you. You resolved to embrace your own uniqueness, finding strength in your individuality.

Days turned into weeks, and as the summer began to wane, you found a new purpose. Ford encouraged you to explore your own talents, and you began to step out of the shadows, slowly finding your voice.

But at night, as you lay in bed, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Bill was still watching. Perhaps he would always be a part of your story, a reminder of the chaos you had chosen to resist.

And somewhere in the depths of the multiverse, Bill Cipher smirked, knowing that even in defeat, he had planted a seed of chaos in your heart—one that would never truly fade away.

[nephalem-da]

Hiiii the request you wrote (sarcastically yours) was so cute and I really loved the gender neutral non description of the reader like somebody else pointed out in the comments too.

I have another idea/request if you happen to be up for it.

Bill x gn!reader who is touch starved and had a terrible week. When Bill pops up to cause trouble they just snag him from mid air and trap him a hug as they lay down to cuddle him if he wanted to or not.

Over all mood can be kind of reader being tired and not taking shit or giving any fucks while he quirms in their hold, complaining and threatening them dramatically because how dare they just cuddle him? And why does he feel strangely cozy?

Anyway, thanks again for bringing the first request to life <3

Have a lovely day!!!

Caught In A Hug

(Bill Cipher x GN!Reader)

Enjoy!

Genre: Humor, Fluff, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warning: Emotional exhaustion, Bill's chaotic behavior (mentions of bugs, fire, etc.), Light angst, fluffy ending.

Summary: After a rough week, you're too tired to deal with Bill Cipher's antics. When he appears, you pull him into an unexpected cuddle, ignoring his dramatic protests.

After an exhausting week, all you wanted was some peace, but of course, Bill Cipher had other plans. The chaotic dream demon had been popping in unannounced, causing trouble like always. But tonight, you were done. When he appeared mid-air, ready to start his usual antics, you didn’t hesitate. Reaching up, you snagged him from the air, pulling him into a firm embrace as you collapsed onto the couch.

“What the—HEY! What do you think you’re doing?” Bill’s voice was loud, his single eye widening in surprise as he flailed in your arms. “Let go of me, fleshbag! I’m the all-powerful Bill Cipher! You think you can just—HEY!”

You ignored his dramatic outburst, too tired to care about the dream demon's protests. Your arms tightened around his floating form as you sighed, settling deeper into the cushions. “Not today, Bill. I’ve had a really crappy week, and I just need this. You can complain all you want, but you’re not going anywhere.”

His yellow, triangular body squirmed against you, and his eye darted around, probably plotting some chaotic retaliation. “Oh, you’re gonna regret this! I’ll make bugs crawl out of your cereal! I’ll—ACK! Hey, are you even listening?!”

“Nope,” you muttered, eyes already half-closed as you buried your face into his smooth form, not bothering to think about how weird it was to be cuddling a literal demon triangle. “You’re warm. Kinda cozy too.”

Bill sputtered. “Cozy? ME? You’ve got some nerve! I’m a nightmare, a terror, an all-knowing force of the universe! And you—you—let go right now, or I’ll—” His threats trailed off as you shifted slightly, adjusting your grip to pull him closer.

He wriggled, floating slightly above you but still locked tight in your hug. “You really have no idea who you’re messing with, do ya? This is gonna end badly for you, I swear—Hey, stop nuzzling me! What’s wrong with you?!”

“Bill,” you grumbled, barely opening your eyes. “I’m too tired for your drama. Just… be quiet for a bit. I’m not letting go.”

There was a pause. You felt him stiffen, probably trying to figure out how to react to the situation. You couldn’t tell if he was more annoyed, confused, or horrified that you dared to trap him in such a mundane, human gesture.

“This is so beneath me,” he grumbled under his breath, though his voice had lost some of its earlier venom. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today. Normally, I’d make you regret this for eternity.”

You snorted softly, tightening your hold slightly. “Sure, Bill. Whatever you say.”

The room was quiet for a while after that. You could still feel Bill’s occasional squirm as if he couldn’t decide whether to break free or not. His eye darted around, and you could tell he was struggling with the situation—partly because it was so mundane, and partly because… well, he wasn’t used to this. Who would hug a literal chaotic being?

Bill’s grumbling gradually faded into silence, and you felt him settle in your arms. Despite his earlier protests, he wasn’t putting in much effort to escape anymore. It was almost as if he was… relaxing?

You could feel his energy pulsing slightly against you, warm and oddly comforting. It was bizarre, really—cuddling Bill Cipher of all beings. But right now, with how drained you felt from the week, it was exactly what you needed.

A while passed before Bill spoke again, his tone a little quieter and far less aggressive than before. “This doesn’t mean anything, got it? Don’t go thinking I’ve gone soft or anything.”

“Mmhm,” you mumbled, too close to sleep to argue. “Sure.”

“And I’m only letting this happen because you’re clearly too weak to handle my usual brilliance,” he continued, though it sounded like he was trying to convince himself as much as you. “But just wait. I’ll make you regret it. I’ll turn all your furniture upside down, make your mirrors talk back—maybe even—”

You interrupted him by shifting slightly, pulling him even closer. Bill went silent, his body tense in your arms again as if he wasn’t sure how to react. After a few beats, he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “You’re impossible.”

Despite his words, Bill didn’t move. In fact, he moved a bit closer, his usual chaotic energy now strangely subdued. For someone who thrived on chaos and destruction, being held like this clearly wasn’t something he understood—or was used to. And yet, he didn’t pull away.

The longer the silence stretched, the more you noticed a subtle shift in Bill’s attitude. His squirming had stopped, and while he still made the occasional sarcastic comment, his usual snark had softened into something more… tentative.

“Alright, fine,” he muttered at last. “But don’t think this is a regular thing. This is a one-time deal, got it? You try this again, and I’ll—”

“Mmhm,” you repeated, your voice sleepy. “Whatever you say, Bill.”

Bill grumbled something unintelligible, but his protests were far less forceful now. His body felt warm and secure in your arms, and despite all his complaints, he hadn’t made any real effort to escape.

As your breathing slowed, you couldn’t help but notice a strange, unfamiliar comfort in his presence. Bill Cipher, the all-powerful, terrifying demon, was somehow… calming? Cozy, even.

And though he’d never admit it, you had a feeling he didn’t hate this as much as he was pretending to.

“You’re still going to regret this,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now, almost tired.

“Sure, Bill,” you whispered, finally drifting off to sleep, still holding him close. “Whatever you say.”

And for once, Bill Cipher didn’t argue back.

[ckret2]

hi. you are very kind when you respond to asks and i've been meaning to say that i appreciate that. i felt happy when i told you about my weird bill-babytrap (billbytrap) and you told me about how that was an early concept that didn't make it in. i was initially just going to say that, but then. this chapter and. how does the being-the-dream-realm thing work after theraprism and rebirth and, hell, weirdmaggedon? was it all dragged into reality? or is it like sticking your face in a diorama?

thank you! 💕 I try to be! (and glad you liked the little glimpse at The Timeline That Could Have Been lol)

During Weirdmageddon, the Nightmare Realm was mostly outside of Earth's dimension, but Bill was still fully connected to it the entire time—hence why the big X in the sky was open the whole time. Like, usually it's like this:

and during Weirdmageddon it was like this:

An extension of the Nightmare Realm stretching into Gravity Falls but still tethered to the main mass. When Bill died, the tether snapped, and everything connected to the Nightmare Realm (including the Henchmaniacs) was reeled back into the NR. Which would answers one or two of Ford's questions here. ("Is the source of your power in the Nightmare Realm?" buddy you have no idea)

I can't tell you how it worked during Theraprism or post reincarnation—because that's part of the ongoing mystery. Along with "so if he shed his body would Bill's soul still be triangular or is it now a human soul?" you now also know that one of the mysteries is "so like, is Bill still connected to the Nightmare Realm, or not, and in either case how's that work?" These two questions are intertwined and the answer to one would influence the possible answers to the other.

Here's what y'all are supposed to know, based on the content of prior chapters:

While in Theraprism, Bill said that the rest of his power was "outside" the Theraprism and he's being pinched off from it—like the lure of an anglerfish caught inside a trap while the rest of the fish thrashes outside. (And now y'all know that "the rest of his power" means "the Nightmare Realm itself")

once Bill's escaped and gotten stuck in a human body, he admits that he was lying to himself about still being connected to the rest of his power; in truth, since he died, he couldn't actually feel it anymore so he doesn't know if the connection is present-but-hidden (maybe magically sealed off by the Theraprism), or just gone.

The Henchmaniacs expected that, if Bill died, the Nightmare Realm would unravel even faster. Instead, it looks like its decay has slowed down.

Bill's not able to sense all the tiny rifts still around Gravity Falls that open into the Nightmare Realm, and he couldn't sense when a HUGE rift opened in Northwest Manor. (But then he can't sense his own corpse either. So make of that what you will.)

And that's the current state of affairs!

[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.

[aruanimess]

On Erwin, Armin and... Annie

Okay, so I've given up on writing this meta in a concise manner so I'm just gonna say it: Erwin is meant to be a parallel character to Annie as well as Armin.

These three characters exist in a triangular conversation with each other, especially during the Female Titan arc. Now, the commonalities between Armin and Erwin have been discussed quite exhaustively in various metas and in canon itself, so I’m going to focus more on the Annie-Erwin side of the argument.

The thought first occurred to me while reading Opening the Gate, the chapter with the gear inspection scene. When asked for advice on which military branch to choose Annie responds with a question: would you be willing to die on command? Connie, the one who was asking for advice, doesn’t understand why he’s being asked that. Armin, however, does; this is what’s at stake if one joins the Survey Corps, you don’t get a choice anymore, your life is tied to the cause. 

Later, this line is repeated by none other than Erwin himself. 

Both characters say this line independently, but they both use it to describe the same concept. This is meant to showcase their inherent pragmatism, and also their dedication to their mission. We don’t know it when we first encounter this in the story, but Annie’s choice of the Military Police is not motivated by self-interest at all. Much like Erwin, much like Armin later in this chapter, she’s committed to something larger than herself. 

Then we have the Titan Forest chapter, where Armin delivers his famous speech, “A person who cannot sacrifice anything, cannot change anything.”

This quote refers specifically to the ability to abandon your humanity when the situation calls for it. This speech is about Erwin yes, but it is also about Annie. The panel even cuts to her face as the final lines are being spoken:

At first, I thought this was meant to say that Annie was one of those people unable to make a difference. She couldn’t leave her home behind, so she wasn’t willing to make a sacrifice, therefore she couldn’t enact change.

But no! Because later we get this:

Annie was willing to sacrifice her life again and again and again. Even in the end of this arc, she chooses to trap herself in a prison of her own creation to protect her mission and keep her titan away from the Paradisians’ reach (we all know what happened to Bertolt). She’s making this move in order to protect her comrades, choosing not to betray their identities, and to give them a chance to escape. 

In Midnight Sun, Armin and Erwin giving up their lives for the cause is obviously paralleled. I’d argue that Annie’s fate complements and foreshadows their own, highlighting the extreme lengths all three are willing to go to achieve their goals. 

Annie is the third vertex in this triangle of sacrifice, pragmatism and inhumanity. 

[writing-and-rebloging]

(Incomplete) assortment of Freed Justine things I routinely think about

(because I've been chewing on the Raijinshuu for two weeks and want to make it everyone else's problem.)

He's *confident*.

He's posh and proper, but never diminishes himself no matter who he's talking to in order to be more polite.

His idea of being polite to Laxus is to use a slightly less rude form of "you" (anta).

He also scolds (and threatens?) Laxus in Fantasia.

He's known as "the dark".

"I will follow you to hell itself. After all we've done, there's no turning back. Don't ~chicken out~ get cold feet."

His unclear demonic situation.

He's worked as a cook.

He's worked at customer service (waiter).

He made a barrier strong enough to withstand several magic cannons on his own. (Bix and Ever lend him magic power, but there's no other rune mage involved, is what I mean)

His hair. All of it. The siren tail, the maybe-horns-maybe-thunderbolts, the little locks at the sides.

Fan favorite "The rules no longer apply to you" with all it's weight, followed by "There's no path to redemption for you".

He might or might not have killed Rustyrose. (he shows up on the anime, though, but... Yeah. It's really unclear.)

He's in the top 10 mages people want to date, of any guild. (Alongside, say, Loke, Lyon and the trimen)

He put traps that forced mages not to use magic during the battle of fairy tail.

He used another trap to "take the oxygen from whoever used magic within the confines of the runes".

He uses a rapier.*

The way he was relieved and happy when Laxus' Fairy Law "failed".

Him nagging Laxus to "go see his grandfather".

The overall fact that he nags and scolds and rolls his eyes at Laxus.

How he's usually ready and willing to go to extremes, including murder, if the situation requires it, yet tried to stop Laxus from killing Natsu after Mirajane~'s beating~ reminded him of his love for the guild. That, and maybe he was just trying to save Laxus from doing something he'd regret.

How 100yq butchered him.

Tank top and ponytail Freed.

*I'm not a sword nerd, but rapiers are "dress swords", meant for dueling, self defense and accessory all in one, with a flat, narrow blade (French small swords are triangular, foils are cross shaped). There single and double edged rapiers. Rapiers are, overall, a thrusting weapon meant to be nimble and fast, and while it can be used to cut (foils can't), it's not its primary function. Rapiers also have characteristic hilts that, while beautiful, are also meant to offer protection to hand wielding the sword, and the cup-style ones are quite similar to Freed's sword. Rapier's hand guards are also more rounded, as opposed to small swords' guards, that have a more angular shape, and less covering. And why is this important, you ask? It's not. But I like rapiers.

[robbyrobinson]

{Creepypasta} Remember Euclydia

Growing up, Gravity Falls was truly something special. Released back in 2012 and concluding after two seasons on February 15, 2016, the Disney Channel series revolved around Dipper and Mabel Pines, a set of fraternal twins, who were sent to spend their summer vacation in the fictional town of Gravity Falls, Oregon, with their great uncle, or rather “Grunkle” Stanley Pines. Together, they work at Grunkle Stan’s tourist trap “The Mystery Shack” alongside Soos and Wendy Corduroy. It is there that Dipper would discover a journal cataloging all the mysterious anomalies that plague the town.

Of course, the show was best remembered because of its use of cryptograms such as the Caesar cipher among other varieties of encrypted puzzles. In fact, shortly after the series finale was aired, a real-life Cipher hunt was orchestrated by series creator Alex Hirsch himself which spanned countries beginning in Saint Petersburg, Russia, and, appropriately ending in Reedsport, Oregon. And it is there, somewhere in the woods that the victors who decoded the mystery were met with a statue of an... old friend.

Fans of the show are more than familiar with the sinister Dream Demon Bill Cipher, but for those who slept on the show, Bill Cipher was the main antagonist of the series, a triangular fiend from the Second Dimension who was originally meant to be a one-off character before he was promoted. To keep the spoilers to a minimum, Bill wanted to merge his decaying dimension, the Nightmare Realm, with the Earth succeeding at his goal in “Dipper and Mabel vs. The Future” when he deceived a despondent Mabel. He rained weirdness on the entirety of Gravity Falls in an apocalyptic event dubbed Weirdmageddon driving people to the brink of insanity with his Bubbles of Pure Madness and transforming others into stone statues and creating a Throne of Frozen Human Agony from them.

However, despite his near victory, Bill is predictably defeated, leaving his physical form behind to get an equation which prevented him from spreading his weirdness to the rest of the world. While the show ended on a great note with the day saved, it left a plethora of questions, the most damning one being on the demonic triangle himself. Was Bill truly dead, or could there be a chance he could return to wreak havoc on the Pines family?

This question lingered for years and was only further muddled with the subsequent releases of books to expand the universe of Gravity Falls. The most alarming one was written from the perspective of the Dream Demon himself, which begged the question: if Bill was dead, how could he be writing the book? Was he in some weird afterlife, preferably Hell for all the atrocities he committed throughout the trillions of years he was alive? Or was he hiding in the deepest regions of Grunkle Stan’s mind? The Book of Bill promised to reveal Bill’s origins and ultimately clear up where he had been for all those years since the show finished production.

Naturally, the book is classic Bill with its morbid, dark humor, and, to its credit, it did reveal Bill’s backstory... or at least bits of it that put together. Even in the original cartoon it was common knowledge that Bill was a native of the Second Dimension where, as he put it, was a realm containing nothing but flat dreams, flat minds, and a flat world. It was then that Bill “liberated” his dimension, and he did such an exceedingly excellent job at it that... the dimension no longer exists. Everyone was dead, even his parents.

While the book could be summed up as being just nonsense that Bill wrote to ensnare a hapless victim to possess and start Weirdmageddon anew, what made this an even more interesting turning point is the creation of a tie-in website “thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com.” The site could be best described as being additional pages of The Book of Bill that were left on the drawing board detailing more lore to the series and giving some funny responses. Just try typing in “Ted Cruz” and you would be introduced to a popup that informs you that you violated standards and practices and therefore you must have your mouth washed out. Or if you typed in “Skibidi” you are met with the lovely message that your life privileges are revoked. Then there were the... not-so-funny responses like what happens if you type in “Stanley” one-too-many times.

After hearing about the website, I decided to visit the website. I was met with several interesting visuals like a human skull with a gold tooth; an eye in a jar; a copy of The Book of Bill with a dagger stabbed into it. Best of all, the low beat of the show’s theme song complimented the mysterious aura that took me back to when I first watched the cartoon. I soaked in the atmosphere for a few more seconds before I remembered the reason I logged onto the website.

I started off with the codes I already was familiar with ranging from the names of the main characters and was met with amusing results. I then thought of ones off the top of my head to see if they also worked. If you were to type Season 1 into the computer, you’d get “Anti-Gravity Falls” for one, or Season 1 if you plugged in Season 2. As I further experimented with the outcomes, my mind directed me towards Cipher again. However, I had already used “Bill,” “triangle,” and “Bill Cipher” so I needed to think of something else... maybe on some of his classifications. Given the terminology that he was a Dream Demon, the most sense was to type “dream.”

So... I did. I wrote out “dream” and pressed enter. Red flashed from the computer denoting that the word was not one of the codes. I was disappointed, but I remembered how there were tricks to some of the words, so I pressed the enter key again. But like before, no slice. However, I was not one to just give up after the first two goes. I pressed enter again and again in rapid succession only for the same blaring to ring out.

It was the very definition of insanity I admit, but if it provided me with answers to Bill’s nature, I would have felt obligated. Eventually, the pyramid placeholder on the computer glitched as a new message popped up:

PA'Z UVA TF MHBSA PA'Z UVA TF MHBSA PA'Z UVA TF MHBSA TF LFL... P JHU ZAPSS ZLL AOL IBYUPUN IVKPLZ... PA OBYAZ PA OBYAZ... WSLHZL ZVTLVUL AHRL HDHF AOL WHPU!!!

I could practically hear Bill railing against me the further I typed the word into the password interface. The screen glitched and flashed in vibrant colors undoubtedly representing a color code. Clearly whatever was going on indicated that whatever was happening was working to my favor. It must have taken me thirty times, but the website appeared to relent. Another message fizzled up asking me if I really wanted to know the deep dark secret this time offering me a yes or no option. I chose the former, and after it stalled for a few seconds, it sent me a link to a video with the simple title of “Remember Euclydia.”

From my research on the wiki for Gravity Falls, I came to the realization that Euclydia was the name of Bill’s realm and that I would be sitting front and center and witness the destruction of the world. True to what he had alluded to, Eucyldia existed on a flat plane, as if it were just a piece of paper. In this dimension, there were no stars or cosmic bodies to speak of, with all the inhabitants of that realm bumping into each other at random and talk of any other dimensions was strictly forbidden. Everyone had two-dimensional forms befitting their environment, but I could also tell that the realm did have a sense of leadership.

Two triangles, one red, the other blue, directed the citizens with authoritative stride. Among the gathered assemblies were rhombuses and ellipses. Squares and diamonds. All the shapes you were taught in preschool were in attendance as they waited for some grand experience. What I found the most peculiar about the two triangles, however, were their two sets of eyes. If they were supposed to be Bill’s parents, then that only further indicated that Bill was born with a mutation. Just as I came to that conclusion, more cryptograms, this time representing the Caesar cipher, filled the screen.

Decoding it, the symbols formed a sentence: “In aspiration of making his people see all, the killer’s mental state took a great fall.”

My eyes were directed to a yellow triangle with a single peeper rise above the others. It floated over to the farthest end of its reality when I heard the rumblings of a song. I carefully pressed the plushy cushions of my headphones to better hear what tune it was playing. It possessed a soft, motherly tone making me speculate it was Bill’s mother Scalene. I would be lying if I did not say that the lullaby lulled me into a false sense of security.

“Rock-A-Bye Billy

Please don’t you cry

It’s not your fault you have that strange eye

Stay safe with Mommy you’ll never fall

And we’ll always love you sharp angles and all.”

The song’s instrumentals continued to play in the background as more Cipher cryptograms glimmered. I was admittedly not too adept at decoding the cryptograms from the show, so I wrote them down and opened another tab to a website that could decode what the hidden message said. I jotted down the letters that accompanied each symbol and returned to the video. From what I could gather, it went like this.

FOR TRILLIONS OF YEARS, I WAS AFFLICTED. THEY CALLED ME CRAZY FOR SAYING THAT I SAW BILLIONS OF TRILLIONS OF UNIVERSES ALL EONS AHEAD FROM THIS FLAT HELL OF AN EXISTENCE. EVEN MY OWN MISERABLE PARENTS TRIED STUNTING MY TALENTS WITH THAT HICK OF AN EYE DOCTOR. MY EYE THROBS EVERY TIME I LOOK INTO OTHER WORLDS. I CAN’T SUPPRESS MY GIFT ANY LONGER.

I watched the yellow triangle representing Bill further push through the shapes as they went sideways and down, but never up. It pushed against the limitations of its world and stretched its hands until the palms clanged on a hollow surface. A ripple of waves wobbled on the invisible forcefield like gelatin. However, the triangle was far from done.

The vocals of the audio returned a second time, but I sensed there was something amiss about. The shape intensified its blow at the same time the song grew more pronounced. Again and again, the barrier jiggled as it became stable. The video zoomed in on the triangle’s singular eye with the slit of its pupil expanding. Galaxies sparkled being so close, yet still so far.

I WILL SHOW EVERYONE THE STARS.

A deafening smash rang through my headphones the moment Bill broke through his reality. The fabrics of reality shattered like shards of glass exposing the once concealed dimension to third dimensional space. Scalene's lullaby reached its crescendo before falling silent.

LOOK, EVERYONE! I WAS RIGHT ALL ALONG! MOM, DAD, I -

The text stopped midsentence when the video began to buffer despite playing normally. I decided to refresh the video, and it functioned properly until, yet again, it buffered on the scene. Curious, I did the same trick a few more times getting the same result, but after the sixth time, the video resumed playing a corrupted version of Scalene's lullaby. “Rock-A-Bye Billy

Please don’t you cry...

It’s not your fault you have that strange eye

Stay safe with Mommy, you’ll never fall

And we’ll always love you, sharp angles and AAALLLLLLLLLLLLL-”

The scene slammed to show Bill’s pupil shrink as... something... descended through the crack in his reality but since the camera focused in on his face, all I heard was the sound of roaring and gnashing mandibles of a large creature. My only theory was that it was some anomaly that breached the Nightmare Realm and was now wreaking chaos on Euclydia. The once peaceful lullaby that Bill’s mother sang to him was replaced with a melody of horrified screams and the natives getting gorily ripped to shreds by the monster.

NO... NO... NO THIS WAS NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN! OH GODS... HOW COULD THIS GO SO WRONG!!!?

Blood was everywhere as the monster ruthlessly attacked each inhabitant with no one being spared from its rage. Because of the primitive design flaw of Euclydia, it made it all the easier for their slaughter to happen en masse. Blue flames rained down from the monstrosity’s maw and engulfed buildings incinerating them to their last atom. Any that fought against the intruder did so, saving the other two-dimensional beings a few seconds at best, but their weapons were of no use. Rather, it made the monster more infuriated at their insolence.

Bill hovered over the ruined husk of his world his confidence being replaced with an expression of dread. His eye throbbed again this time out of bewilderment as he floated there petrified. Crimson blood splattered across his face knocking him slightly out of his catatonic state. His stomach churned with his eye burning hot with the urge to vomit (the show had confirmed that his eye doubled as his mouth). He clutched his chest with his fist as his voice staggered in disbelief. He struggled to speak, but the scent of seared flesh filled his nostrils. He could only wheeze a dry “It... it wasn’t me.”

He continued to speak into the void when the video transitioned slain Euclideans dragged their broken bodies along and linked their limbs together in huge swarms. They directed their collective gaze towards Bill... I could practically feel the venom in their words.

Why did you do it? Why did you do it?

Bill gripped the sides of his head in desperation of drowning the accusations out and continued doing so even when his fingernails clawed into him. The video began playing at a fast pace with Bill shaking fervently. The harsh critique drilled tiny holes in his body with his blood and tears coming together in a mixture. Cipher slowly lowered his hands.

Tears streaked down his eye as Bill laughed hysterically, his mental state snapping and burning away alongside the rest of his world and continued growing more erratic and pained the more Bill allowed himself to slip away. The blue flames licked his body symbolizing the punishment that he would receive for all his crimes. His mother’s lullaby reached its final note before the video abruptly ended.

The next day, I booted up my computer and decided to visit thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com to see if I could get that outcome again. I typed in “dream” as I did yesterday only to be met by the blare of the monitor as the code was rejected. No matter how many times I tried that password, I was never able to activate the link for the video. The rest of the website worked as normal.

[imaredshirt]

When Stan and Ford were 11, a storm hit Glass Shard Beach with winds that were two miles too slow to classify as a hurricane. So it converged over the New Jersey shoreline as a furious tropical storm, turning the sky grey and pulling and pushing the ocean over the beach in high, crashing waves.

The state had strongly recommended evacuating to safety. It was such a fierce storm that the governor even briefly considered making it a mandatory thing. But only briefly. 

And because he didn’t, nobody in Glass Shard Beach left the little beach side town. Nobody wanted to. Or saw the need to. This was especially true for business owners, who scoffed at the thought of leaving their storefronts and tourist traps abandoned for any amount of time, even for a little bit of rain and wind. 

The Pines family was no different. They locked the front door of their store, boarded up all the windows, and hunkered down in the main bedroom to wait out the storm. 

Pops was asleep in bed, snoring loud enough to put the wind to shame, and Ma was next to him, reading through her Psychics National Weekly, snorting at all the news from the Hush, Much? New Gossip! column that she claimed she’d already seen with her psychic powers three days ago.

The twins had taken their favorite quilted blanket and draped it over the back of Ma’s armchair and one corner of the bed, creating a fort that made waiting out the storm a little more bearable. It didn’t do much to muffle the howling winds or the rain pelting the boarded windows or Pops snoring louder than his car could rumble, but there was something about forts that was always comforting to the 12-year-olds. 

They’d set Pops’ metal flashlight in the middle of the fort, shining a bright light up into the quilted canopy. Stan lay on his back and stretched one arm up to wiggle his fingers in the light and throw shadows against the triangular patches of red and orange fabric overhead, eyes wide as he listened to Ford read from his favorite collection of maritime fiction.

“Suddenly,” Ford read aloud, eyes glued to the open book in his lap. “The ship was launched out of the water! A massive tentacle curled around it, and the three sailors saw the monstrous head of the Kraken emerge from the waves! It peered at them with one bulbous, angry yellow eye. Lightning flashed as it opened its sharp, grisly beak to devour them whole.

“‘Oh no!’ Cried the Captain. ‘I’ve steered us right into the beast’s dastardly grip! I’ve doomed us all!’

“‘No,’ said his First Mate. ‘We are not doomed yet, Captain. We’ll get through this. We always do!’”

“Do they?” Stan asked before Ford could continue. He sat up and tried to peek at the book. “Do they make it out alive? Do they get eaten? What happens?”

“Hey!” Ford laughed and tilted the book so Stan could only see the front cover. “Let me finish reading and you’ll see if they live. Only,” he paused and flipped through the book. “Only 19 and a half more pages to go.”

“Aw, Sixer, come on,” Stan groaned. He flopped back onto the floor and threw an arm dramatically over his eyes. “Just tell me! What if the storm pulls me out through the window and throws me into space and you never see me again? Then I’ll never know the ending!”

“First of all,” Ford said, “That’s impossible. Second of all, we need to study these stories as closely as we can, even if they are fictional. It could help prepare us for our adventures across the sea! What if we run across a hungry Kraken, you know?”

“We’d kick its slimy butt,” Stan said. He balled his fists and aimed two uppercuts at an imaginary ocean behemoth. “No dumb octopus is gonna take the Stan o’ War down with us on board!”

“Yeah!” Ford cheered, then he bit his lip and continued in a more subdued voice. “Hey, Stanley?”

Stan stuck his tongue between his teeth as he aimed another bruising punch into the imaginary Kraken above him. “Yeah?”

“Would you be mad at me if I accidentally steered us into dangerous waters?”

Stan went quiet for a moment, flailing fists falling to his sides. He sat up and  watched his brother fiddle nervously with the corner of one page. Then, with a laugh, he elbowed Ford and said, “Are you kidding me? Dangerous water is where all the fun is! What’s the point of sailing if you’re just gonna stick to boring places? Pirates hide all the good stuff where the monsters hang out! Besides,” he added with a smile, “I trust you with my life, Sixer. Wherever you steer us has gotta be the right way.”

Ford smiled bashfully at the book. “Aw, you’re just saying that.”

“Nah, I’m serious! You’re the smartest kid I know, probably the smartest kid anybody knows. You’re gonna steer us towards all the coolest stuff out there using the stars and maps and math and whatever it is sailors use, I don’t even know! And me? I’m gonna protect us from everything.”

Ford flipped to the next page in the book. “Everything?”

“Yeah,” Stan said. “Everything! Giant squids and undead pirates and--and--and undead giant squid pirates!”

“Undead giant squid pirates?” Ford laughed and flopped onto the floor next to his brother. “That’s crazy! I gotta draw it.”

“Don’t forget to draw ‘em in giant pirate hats,” Stan said. “That’s how you know they’re pirates.  And draw some of their tentacles falling off! That’s how you know they’re undead.” “Noted,” Ford said, tapping his temple to signal that he was making a mental checklist for later. Then he nudged Stan with his elbow. “I trust you with my life, too.”

Stan nudged him back and laughed to hide his own bashfulness. “C’mon, tell me the rest of the story before the storm quits on us. Cause then it’s back to boring ol’ school. Yuck!”

With a grin, Ford held the book above their heads so they could both see the text and the intricate woodcut illustrations. He cleared his throat and began in the most dramatic voice an eleven year old could muster, “Before the Captain could respond, the ship tilted, and the three sailors fell towards the open maw of the Kraken!”

Stan listened in rapt fascination as Ford read on. Next to them, the flashlight threw their shadows against the blanket, making them seem larger than their eleven year old selves, as if they were old enough to set sail for adventure the very next day. 

But they were just kids, with many years ahead of them before they would ever be ready to take to the sea.

The storm raged outside. In their fort, the boys nearly forgot about it, lost in tales of daring adventurers and monsters lurking beneath the waves.

[On ao3]

[cheemscakecat]

AI Art mistakes Episode 1: Gravity Falls as an 80s mystery movie.

Like usual, AI struggles to replicate text. There are a number of reasons why an AI generated background image is a bad idea under most circumstances, especially as a final draft.

Here is an actual picture of the Mystery Shack from the show. This design was based off of research done by the team working on the show. They travelled to actual tourist traps in order to find objects to draw as background details, like the signs and decor around the shack.

The AI version doesn’t scream tourist trap house, it screams random gas station [which is what I assume the rectangles in the far bottom right are supposed to represent]. The scale of the signage on the real design gives us insight into Stan Pines, the owner of the business, and what we can expect to find on a tour. The moss, missing S laying on the roof, and big board underneath all tell us something important: This is an old building, and the owner is cheap.

The scale of the full shack is much larger than the little AI version, so much that the Gift shop area feels around the same size as the whole thing. The AI version isn’t believable as a house/shop combo because of how small it is, and the broken window!

There’s a room big enough for two children to have separate beds and a large room with a window nook in the attic area of the mystery shack. We don’t know where this bathroom is on the ground floor, but given the fact that there’s an outhouse, we can assume this is meant for the family living at the Shack, not tourists.

The detail of the non-suspicious triangular windows is lost in the AI image, and since none of the posters even spell words, there’s no good details gained from including them.

This support on the porch roof doesn’t connect back to the building, it connects to this tree trunk. And the supposed gas pumps don’t make sense either because there’s usually only one or two, and they’d all be the same height.

AI Dipper Pines just looks like that one kid from Stranger things.

Another issue with AI art is that the texture on “Dipper’s” hair is super soft and fluffy like a cat’s fur. You can see this actor’s curly hair leaves actual gaps and is more wiry and shiny… because it’s human hair. Also, the image from the show has this grainy texture on the skin and cloth, because the show is set in the 80s and cameras weren’t high definition. AI art looks too smooth and buttery because it doesn’t have the human understanding of aesthetics and texture.

He also looks like Frodo, but I don’t know why the AI would pull from a non-80s themed film.

That ain’t Journal 3, thats Diary 9!

The AI didn’t even make it red! Made it massive and square, but the rest wasn’t allowed.

“Dipper” isn’t looking at anything because an AI drew this and had no plan for what he’s supposed to be staring at. Also, one of his nostrils is smaller and his right eyebrow is trying to escape AI purgatory.

Don’t let ro-bro cook, AI “Mabel” looks like Minecraft Brett Cooper.

Naw, because why is AI Mabel’s jawline stronger than her Twin Brother’s?!

That is NOT Mabel bro, that is a thirty year old married woman on Pinterest!

With a sock puppet for a thumb.

They made Stan into a fusion of Walta White and Stan Lee, which makes sense. But his empty black eye socket and deep wrinkles give me a fight or flight response.

This is what real eyes and wrinkles look like. Once again the text on Stan’s jacket makes no sense [and being AI has no design thought put into it], and the hair looks like cat fur. Walta’s beard is a good example of what “Stan’s” mustache should look like texture wise.

This isn’t Soos, this is Deter Diffin!

Literally what is the same? Got bro out here looking like a slapstick mobster with 3 offended brain cells.

Look, I know Mabel saved that 8 legged cow, but even she’s wise enough to get stranger danger vibes from bro. AI waddles looks like one of those cursed 3-D Peppa Pig animations from the depths of YouTube.

So this next one, I didn’t even know who it was supposed to be, but the video had timestamps in the description…

…..

…..

….

So Ford… isn’t a ginger, first of all. Second of all, he’s literally wearing a baseball cap with a beanie over it. Because that would do anything for you.

Doesn’t look like AI Stan. Doesn’t even look like his painted self, much less the actual Ford. The AI latched onto the author thing and made him do a book signing or something. I promise you, if Ford got the chance to do a book signing he would not look this depressed. Maybe he can feel the disappointment through the screen, IDK.

AI Bill Cipher. Apparently. Bro looks like a Demonic Discord Mod who found out his Lemon Demon concert ticket is counterfeit the night of the event. I’m not even going to waste time explaining this one.

So yeah, that was episode one of critiquing/roasting AI art.

[fairyprey]

churned girl meat - day 2

Lana was traversing the mountains, seeking for shelter days after the Voradiation, as others were calling it, hit all life on Earth. A few of her friends had been turned into various sizes, however she only shrunk to be barely 5ft tall. Survival for her was more in her favor if she didn’t have the pleasure of running into a bumbling man or giant. It was unknown the effects it had on the men besides making them much more hungrier than usual.

As Lana’s feet crunched against the dying flowers tucked into the wilderness, she witnessed dispersed clothing on the ground, covered in holes and slime, the last sign of a girl’s existence now if she had the privilege of getting her clothes burped out. It was a further reminder of the new class of societies: Male predators and Female prey. Whatever was in that ship, it turned the world that Lana knew it upside down.

Ahead of her, the girl saw a cabin. There were no signs of life there and if there were, they might have been turned into pudge by now. Though it seemed like a bad idea, going there now was better than being out in the open with a chance of turning into a meal. Lana trekked across the flowers to the wooden cabin; there had been stairs leading up to the rickety door that had a metal handle to it. It was calling to her for her to open.

Her feet took her up the stairs and to the door that was beckoning to be opened. Lana’s hand brushed across the handle and opened it, gaining a small view of the cabin before dropping down into the basement, from a floorboard that gave into weight and swiveled around after.

It must have been a trap… And she was damn well mad at herself that she didn’t see it sooner.

Lana’s knees bruised when she fell into a tall, triangular cage that kept her within. The basement had looked like what a cabin living room would look like to the average person; a lit fireplace, a comfortable reclining chair, and other stuff she couldn’t see due to how dark it appeared to her. The chair swiveled around, revealing a 6’3” man with messy, golden blond hair, brown eyes, tan skin, and freckles across his nose. The look on his face said enough to her. He was up to no good and she was about to find out soon.

A small sounding chuckle erupted from his mouth as he got up, taking his sweet time to come up to her. Lana’s ears heard some sniffs coming from him as well; he must’ve smelled her scent from miles away due to the way he had been looking at her. You know how a crocodile looks at its prey before striking? This was him, except he was said crocodile and Lana was the prey meant to feed and fill his belly. “Well, well, well, now what tasty morsel do we have here?” The man said, his tongue snaking out of his mouth to lick his lips. “My name’s Stanford. I would ask for your name, but I think I’m just gonna call you mine, sweets.”

Stanford eyed Lana, his eyes roaming her tan body that had some curves to it. The shorts she’d been wearing were definitely riding up her. They showed the dips of dimples of cellulite that trailed from her thighs to her plump ass. In his predatory eyes, each of those held centers of flavor for him to lather in saliva and lick endlessly. In fact, he had to look away because he wanted to cherish his food. Stanford didn’t wanna spoil his dinner so soon.

As much as he wanted to gaze at her delicious form, he preferred that his mouth do the exploring. His fingers reached out and stroked the iron bars of the triangular cage that trapped the woman. The muscle in his mouth moved in desperation to finally taste his meal, water from the salivary glands rushing out and gulping down the excess. Stanford was thinking about the potential flavors that coaxed her being. Who knew how long she’d been out in the mountains. The sweat could’ve seasoned her with a salty taste, or the bath wash Lana used could’ve made her taste sickeningly sweet. The possibilities were endless.

Stanford’s fingers tugged the cage open, gaining access to Lana. And like a scared fawn to a hungry fox, she froze. Prior to any of the accidents, she surely would’ve been throwing hands to escape. But her and countless others body chemistry had permanently altered to an unrecoverable state.

Due to Lana’s frozen state, Stanford had free reign to do whatever he wanted to the woman so short, she only reached his shoulders. “Stand up, food.”

Lana did as asked by the man and stood up, her green eyes meeting his brown. In her frozen state, she took a good look at him once again and processed the fact that she wouldn’t be surviving this encounter. It would have eventually caught up to her sooner than later. I mean, how many men could resist such a delectable looking meal like her? And Stanford would make sure to put her bundles of calories to good use. Speaking of calories, his stomach let out a low growl. It was desperate to be filled after being without food for only 8 hours. The catch Stanford had yesterday couldn’t compare to Lana and his belly only confirmed his thoughts. A smirk tugged at his lips and he grabbed the back of her head, shoving it against the growling organ. GLLLRRRGGGGGGG

“You hear that dear? Listen closely…” The chamber let out another growl, the walls of the stomach shaking. It sensed the girl outside it and wanted to let Lana know how much it wanted her inside. It yelled a few more times and the growls vibrated against her soft face. “You’re gonna add to my belly quite nicely. All that meat of yours is gonna get churned, pumped through my intestines, and become fat for me to absorb onto my stomach. That’s your purpose, right dear?” Stanford taunted the poor girl.

Lana nodded, agreeing with the sentiments made by the handsome man that was her predator. He chuckled darkly and licked his lips, preparing to devour her and deliver to his gut. Stanford wrapped his rather large hands around her waist, easily lifting her up and holding her close to his face. Despite their not-so-drastic size difference, he wouldn’t let that stop him from tasting her before shoving her into his mouth. Stanford’s tongue slipped out of his saliva filled mouth and dragged itself over her warm cheeks were coated in freckles. The first flavor he was met with was like a nicely seasoned meat that had been topped with salt. Sounds of pleasure left his mouth at the delectable taste and he just had to have more. The tongue snaked across the rest of her face, gaining much more flavor to soak into his sensitive taste buds that felt like small bumps to her.

He pulled away and licked his lips one last time and gazed at her wet face. “I would love to taste you more, my delicious meat, but I prefer you being in me. Say goodbye to your life, toots. Not like it was worth much.”

Stanford chuckled and unhinged his jaws, shoving Lana’s head in his mouth. All she could do was helplessly blink and surrender to the devouring of her. His tongue moved underneath her face and once again, tasted and slobbered all over it. He was acting cruel to make the process worse for her and even greater for him. Her head was hefted up to the roof of his mouth and sucked on. All Stanford wanted to do was take all the flavor from her as he could before swallowing her. The tongue also licked the black ringlets of hair on her head that tasted like butter to him, another flavor that enhanced the savoriness Lana. He began moving his jaw, smacking her around in there with his mouth and drew her closer to the back of his throat. He sucked on her head one last time before swallowing it, depositing it into the tight throat that seeked to drag her down. Stanford hummed around her body as the gulp brought in her chest that quickly got attention from his tongue. The thick muscle prodded it perversely, taking pleasure of licking the areola around her nipples and flicking it with his tongue. With each lick, it had been like her taste became better. Stanford hoped that every future meal after this didn’t disappoint. His teeth came down and lightly grazed against her upper back, lightly chewing. Not enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a few white marks or bruising. He would lie if he said he didn’t derive pleasure from dehumanizing Lana like this. Treating her like food was something so pleasing to him and he almost didn’t want it to end, but hunger called. After teasing the chest once more, he swallowed it down, letting the throat constrict the rest of the upper body that joined Lana in his throat. She squirmed as if it were instinct and struggled in the fleshy tube. The squirming got worse now that Stanford was at her lower body. She felt his tongue lick at her ass and thighs, shoving the tip of it into the bunches of cellulite that were bursts of flavor to him. His mouth moaned in pleasure and he ignored his want to tease her pussy, instead just swallowing that part of her body down until it was just her feet in there. With the additional swallow, her head and chest had met their end: the stomach. Whilst Stanford was busy tasting and indulging in his feed of her, the stomach had greeted her with a loud grumble that loosened some of herself from the throat. In response to hearing his tummy, he swallowed the rest of Lana. Soon enough, her whole body joined the wet, growling chamber. It soon grew tight before… BRUUUUAPPPPPPPP

Stanford let out the gas out of his mouth before patting his tummy, rubbing over the stretched organ that laid his meal, “Oh, darling! You tasted absolutely delectable! Thanks for the free meal,” His hands traced the outlines she made, “Now if you don’t mind me, I’m gonna make you into fat. Enjoy your trip through my intestines. I surely will..” He let out a dark chuckle as the stomach roared. It was now beginning to prepare to digest the woman who was prisoner to it. The wrinkly walls waved against her skin, leaking acid from them. If it was burning, she didn’t feel it. She wasn’t sure why but maybe it was due to the radiation altering her DNA once more. It simply reminded her of her only purpose and ending now: food. Lana soon was being melted by the bubbly acid that gave off smokes of heat. The liquid was melting her meat straight off the bones, falling off like it held no weight to it before. It was doing its job to digest and tear every molecule from its holding to the other. The muscles, tendons, skin, bones, and all. She was only there to serve the man’s body and hunger. Lana was conscious during most of it until her head was being digested. She said goodbye to the world as she was made into a nutritious sludge. From the outside. Stanford was burping up a storm as his stomach rumbled once again. The once mass of meat in his stomach grew softer with each growl and gurgle emitted from it. He chuckled and patted his tummy, hearing the sloshing of the once beautiful girl turned into a mass of liquid.

Lana’s remains slipped into his small intestines, getting squeezed and absorbed by his body. As the hours passed by, his stomach grew in size with each pump of meat getting turned into fat for his tummy. With one last…

GURGGLEEEEE~

Lana was no more. Instead, just the additional skin to Stanford’s tummy and energy. He’d been pleased and laid down in his chair, falling asleep and rubbing his squishy gut.

[toxictoad]

NEW AU ALERT!!!

Sorry I have brainrot guys do you still love me🥺

Okay SO:

This is Zenith!

She's Bill's reincarnation after the Theraprism, but she doesn't have any of his memories (at first).

She gets nightmares of Bill's life frequently while she's living with the Pines'. She has an attraction to the color yellow, and all things triangular. She has an odd birthmark over her heart that looks like a crack.

Ford basically finds her by Bill's statue and brings her home (After a brief interrogation that isn't very effective- mostly because she's naked and he doesn't know how to handle that)

Ford is initially EXTREMELY suspicious of her, for good reason, but since he's had a character arc and all that he starts to trust her.

But at the same time she's slowly realizing who/what she is and having a crisis over it. Because ✨Angst✨

She doesn't have any memories, so she's starting from zero, despite having an adult body (Probably ~30 y/o physically)

(This is basically my excuse to do the Born Sexy Yesterday trope but without all the misogyny)

This is Nadir!

Nadir is basically Zenith's dark side! She's much more tapped into Bill than Zenith is, and she's the devil (or demon) on Zenith's shoulder telling her to follow the threads of mysterious portals and triangle runes.

Nadir thinks that if they start Weirdmaggedon 2: Electric Boogaloo then they'll reform back into one entity (Namely Bill) and she'll get to be in the driver's seat when it comes to decisions.

She's also a cringey sad girl. Very much tries to appeal to Zenith's (And eventually everyone else's) sympathy by playing up the angle that she's a lonely entity trapped in the mindscape and separated from her other half.

Zenith and Nadir have lowkey homoerotic tension. Selfcest vibes (Don't shoot me I'm just the messenger) (Okay maybe I made the AU but still) (Sometimes the characters just end up how they end up man).

Also they're both just obsessed with Ford- Nadir moreso than Zenith.

There's two possible endings to this AU: Either Nadir convinces Zenith to start Weirdmaggedon 2 Fast 2 Furious and they become a new entity who rules as Queen of Weirdness, or Zenith gets through to Nadir and they live with the Pines and try to find balance and all that Jazz.

Mostly I just like my weird girls being obsessed with an old man and each other :3

[gottawhump]

Guard Dog

Eliot

CW/TW: conditioning, overwork, exhaustion, pet whump, BBU/WRU. Eliot meets Jonas. Character development.

It’s exhausting to clean a whole house by himself. Sir-Nikolai’s house is smaller than his old owners’, but still big.

He needs to stop frequently.

Sometimes he closes his eyes for a moment, after closing a closet door behind him. An empty closet, all the carpeted floor space for him to lie down on and rest. Just for a minute.

He wakes up with the Guard Dog above him, looking. He scrambles to get to his feet, but his legs don’t cooperate. He only makes it to his knees.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Rest is earned by work, 704. Do you think you’ve earned it? “I didn’t mean to-to fall asleep. Please don’t tell Sir—“

“Sir? Does he make you call him that?”

He wants to hide from the anger. He wants to hide. If you’re noticed, you’ve already failed. But he’s trapped, the closet wall at his back, the Guard Dog-Jonas, his name is Jonas-blocking the door.

“No-no, he doesn’t.” You can call me Kolya, if you want. “But, but he’s an owner.”

“He’s not your damn owner.”

He wraps his arms around his knees, drops his head down, tries to make himself smaller. If you can’t do better, you’re only useful as Guard Dog bait, 704.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” The snarl is gone, Jonas’ voice is soft now. “I’m not mad at you. Nikolai just doesn’t think sometimes. Why were you sleeping in a closet?”

“I didn’t mean to sleep. Please—“ He can’t breathe. Grey static creeps up at the edges of his vision. Then, darkness.

He wakes up in Sir-Nikolai’s bed, not sure how he got there.

“Sometimes I don’t think either. I’m sorry,” Jonas says. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Eliot nods.

It’s easier to breathe after Jonas leaves the room.

But he’s soon back, carrying a tray with butter toast and a glass of orange juice. Sick food, his mind supplies from somewhere.

Eliot sits up, and Jonas places the tray over his lap.

“I don’t think you’ve eaten at all today.”

The toast is soft and hot, the butter melting and sweet on his tongue. He finishes both triangular halves, and sips at the orange juice. Jonas smiles, showing disconcerting fangs.

“Thank you, Si-Jonas.”

He shrugs. “You don’t have to clean here, you know. Nikolai hires a service to come in twice a week. And-and you can sleep anywhere. It just worried me, when I didn’t know where you were.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You-don’t need to do that, either. Apologize, I mean, for everything.”

“It’s hard, not to.” It hurts, not to, muscles tensing, throat closing, heart racing. The first and last words out of your mouth needs to be “I’m sorry”, because you’ve been noticed, and if you’re noticed, it’s because you fucked up.

“I know.”

Forgive and Forget taglist: @whumpsday @painful-pooch @whumpinggrounds @justplainwhump @bluetheautisticrat @i-eat-worlds

Eliot/704 taglist: @kim-poce @fishtale88 @i-eat-worlds @roblingoblin285 @cepheusgalaxy

[holymaccaronii]

You said in a post about two weeks ago that AM in your AU can shape shift into any creature

does that mean he can also shape shift into a great soft jelly thing? (more so, if AM could, how do you think Ted would react to another jelly thing in your AU?)

Ooooo this is an interesting scenario!

So again, yes, AM is able to shape shift due to having a portion of BE’s code (consider it like a friendly virus that can latch into matter and living things) in that clump of cables that she shaped into a feeling puppet. If AM wanted he could turn himself into the worst, most vile and putrid looking version of the soft jelly thing, probably made out of oil and mechanical limbs popping out and maybe even with teeth and his classic orange triangular eye.

In the AU Ted is actually missing and ever since AM trapped the rest of the survivors’ souls (this is what I changed from the og ending) he tries to keep himself hidden to try and plan something to free them. If AM ever got the chance to encounter Ted again and somehow make his puppet (aka body) interact with him, I think Ted would 1: obviously be terrified as HELL that he now possesses an actual physical body with the entirety of his consciousness in it to possibly torment him further, and 2: he would be... confused? Ted's body was supposed to be a punishment, so I think he would be confused with AM also diminishing himself into a slug if he did. If anything I think AM would taunt him with his mouth in that slug body, because well, ya know :3

Me personally I would smush them together and record a slime ASMR video or something.

(Also sorry for no drawing anon, I'm a bit busy with college work but I'm always open to answer any questions with text 🫶, keep em coming)

[ckret2]

On chapter 38 of human Bill Cipher is still the Mystery Shack's prisoner, the most exciting, gripping, action-packed, page-turning chapter so far:

Bill gets locked in the bathroom.

He handles it super well.

####

Bill thought he heard a door slam somewhere far off in the shack—but every time he peeked around the shower curtain, there was no sign of anyone else would come into the bathroom any time soon. Good. Last thing he needed was a human coming upstairs to give him trouble for the crime of daring to be naked with a door open. (Of all the stupid things. He wasn't embarrassed, he was used to floating around in nothing but a top hat and bow tie, if he wasn't bothered why should they be bothered, was what he wanted to know...)

As Bill dried off and dressed, he considered what he'd do next. If someone else was back in the house—Dipper, probably—then Bill wouldn't be able to continue his planned mischief. Pity. He'd hardly had a chance to abuse his freedom. But then, Dipper loved to avoid Bill. Maybe Bill could chase him upstairs and have the living room to himself until Mabel got back.

He dressed, pulled the towels off the mirrors, quickly poked his wet hair into something approximating a triangular cloud, and turned toward the door.

Somewhere during the process of getting dressed, he must have bumped into the door, because it had swung halfway shut. Not a problem. He'd found that as long as a door was open at all, it was possible to get through the gap. Even if it was a narrow gap. If you tried to squeeze through it, it somehow widened for you. Such was the illusive trickery of doors.

But. But. Why should he try to squeeze through? His current 3D flesh body was not made for gliding through infinitesimally small gaps. And he wasn't about to let a door be the master of him. He knew how to handle them now. He'd done this in the living room. Time to show off a little.

Bill turned his back on the door, shut his eyes, simply visualized walking straight through an open doorway and out into the hallway, and confidently walked backwards.

The door made a click sound. It stopped moving. Bill froze, back pressed against the wood.

Something went wrong here.

Bill turned around. The door was very firmly closed. He leaned against it experimentally. It remained closed. It sure didn't seem like an illusion he could walk straight through. Had he done it wrong?

After several more failed attempts to walk through the doorway, Bill reluctantly conceded that for some reason this door wasn't about to yield to his mind tricks. He was quite firmly trapped in the bathroom.

Oh, how embarrassing.

No, no—no, it didn't have to be embarrassing. This would be funny. Somebody else would need the bathroom eventually, right? He could just wait here until the humans returned—maybe sit on the toilet, meditate a while—and when someone opened the door, he'd calmly say, "Hey." And after they jumped out of their skin, he'd stroll out the door. They'd never know how he got in there. It would haunt them.

He shut the toilet lid, sat, crossed his legs, shut his eyes, and settled in to wait.

####

He lasted three minutes.

Bill groaned and dragged his hands down his face. "Ugh, it's been hours. Where the heck is everyone!" He stood and angrily pounded on the door. "Okay, I'm sick of this! My lifespan's too finite to waste it in here!"

Who was here? Probably just Dipper, right? Somewhere downstairs? "HEY!" He stomped on the floorboards. "I'M TALKING TO YOU, UH—uhh, uhhhh—MABEL'S BROTHER?! Name?!" What was his name. He and Mabel had those cute matchy twin names—same length and same first two letters— "MARIO? MATTY? MAGNI? MABON? Isn't it Mabon? That sounds right, I'm sure it's Mabon." He stomped on the floor again. "It's really petty of you to ignore me until I get your name right, Mabon! No, wait, he went by a nickname, what was his nickname." Bill paced back and forth across the bathroom floor. "It was a constellation, right? ORION? No. TRIANGULUM? No, I'd remember if it was Triangulum. What's his sign—VIRGO? C'mon, kid!"

Bill glowered at the door. It showed no signs of opening any time in the near future. Where was that brat?

####

Dipper's lungs were heaving and his heart pounding as he pedaled toward the spot where Bill had cracked open the dimensional rift and started Weirdmageddon.

It was easy to find. He just had to locate the fault line that had opened in the ground and follow it until the view of the trees around him began bending oddly in the air, as though being refracted in water—the air was so thick with invisibly-sealed miniature dimensional rifts. He kept going until he found the sign they'd planted last summer:

Mabel's Fault

He still cringed every time he thought of the name they'd given the scar in the earth. He'd proposed it before realizing how it sounded; but Mabel had laughed hysterically and the name stuck.

He didn't see any sign of them around the fault. "MABEL! Can you hear me?! Bill, where are you!" There was no reply. Dipper screamed his frustration at the top of his lungs.

He was a terrible brother. He'd been one then and he was one today. He never should have left Mabel alone with Bill.

Where else could they have gone? Maybe Bill's corpse? Dipper abandoned his bike and ran off the trail, deeper into the woods. "I'm coming, Mabel!"

####

Bill frowned contemplatively at the mirror, finger tapping his chin.

He had painted his zodiac on the glass with tooth paste.

He pointed around the mirror one symbol at a time. "Okay, that one's Jesús," he said, "that's Wendy, that's Stanley—Pine Tree!" Bill smacked the sink triumphantly. "YOUR NAME'S PINE TREE! Stop ignoring me, where are you!"

There was no answer.

"Maybe he went out again," Bill muttered.

Mabel had to be back soon, right? Bill pressed his face to the bathroom window. He could see Stan's car and Waddles below; no Mabel.

"HEY SHOOTING STAR! Are you back yet?!" Bill listened for a reply. "Star girl? Mabel? Buddy? Pal? My hero? My only friend? Please?"

####

Mabel was biking back from the hardware store, her bike's basket stuffed full of spray paint cans. She'd brought along the flashlight with the height-altering crystal so she could shrink down the bags of spray paint cans to fit in the basket. It was a good choice. There had been a sale. She had sooo many colors now.

She passed the grocery store; weird, the parking lot had filled up with a crowd since the last time she passed by. Did she hear music?

She slowed to stare at the crowd—then hit the breaks. "Candy?! Grenda?!"

Across the parking lot, they turned and waved. "Mabel!"

Mabel pedaled up to them. "Hey guys! What are you doing hanging out in a parking lot!"

"Radio station live appearance," Candy said, pointing toward a red van parked next to the grocery store. A vinyl wrap around the van identified it as affiliated with Falls Radio. In front of it, Bodacious T was struggling to set up a tent over a white folding table. Candy went on, "We are here to win cheap prizes at the games. They have trivia, 'name that tune,' a prize wheel..."

Grenda pumped a fist in the air. "I'm gonna win a water bottle and a tiny backpack!"

"Oooh." Mabel craned her neck, trying to peek between the crowd to the front table. "What are the prizes?"

Candy said, "Radio station t-shirts, CDs, gift cards..."

"The grand prize is concert tickets for some old guy," Grenda said dismissively.

"The gift cards are a better value," Candy said.

"What old guy?" Mabel caught sight of a poster taped up to the side of the van. She gasped. "Phrancisco?! From Invisible Yellow Plastic?!"

"You know him?" Candy asked, surprised.

"Yes?! Invisible Yellow Plastic was this amazing 80's band! They were pioneers in the local new wave scene! I've got some of their albums!" Courtesy of Grunkle Ford, who had hyped them up to her in the first place and also told her everything she knew about them. "And based on the album covers, Phrancisco was so hot thirty years ago?"

Candy and Grenda absorbed this new information with thoughtful looks.

Mabel climbed off her bike, stuck the tiny bags of spray paint in one pocket, and used the height-altering flashlight to shrink her bike and stick it in the other pocket. "Ladies. We have got to get these tickets. I'm dropping everything for this quest." She put her hands on Candy and Grenda's shoulders. "With our powers put together, we can win all the gift cards, tiny backpacks, water bottles, and concert tickets we could ever want. Are you with me?!"

Candy and Grenda raised their fists. "Yeah!"

"It's time for radio station live appearance mini games."

####

Bill sat leaning against the bathroom cabinet, idly flipping the toilet lid up and down to entertain himself, staring at the door.

"I'm sure Mabel will be back any minute," he told himself.

####

Bill had constructed a sensory deprivation tank in the bathtub.

He'd filled the tub with about a foot of hot water, dumped in an entire bag of bath salts he'd found by prying a wooden board out of the side of the cabinet, plugged his ears with cotton balls held in place with bandaids, turned out the lights, and draped a towel over the tub.

He was going to meditate in that, and use the boost to his psychic capabilities to send a telepathic SOS to Mabel. Mabel or whoever was sensitive enough to receive it. He wasn't picky.

His nerves were too frazzled for him to drop straight into a trance. He tried to calm himself. Deep breath—wow, the bath salts reeked of lavender—deep breath through the mouth then. Calm down. Be still. Empty mind. Everything would be fine—everything would always be fine for him—there was no need to stress.

Slowly, he relaxed.

Bill's sleep schedule had been in a state of utter disarray since the moment he'd been dumped in a body that needed sleep. Over the past day, the sum total of sleep he'd gotten had been an unplanned nap last night before dinner, and a fretful nightmare-laden spell from 3 a.m. to dawn.

Bill fell asleep in the tub.

His head sank below the water. He spluttered and flailed his way back to sitting upright.

He took the towel off his head and threw it to the ground. "That didn't work." Kinda comfortable though. He lay back in the tub. What else could he try?

Maybe Wendy would come back. She said she liked hanging out here when she was avoiding people, and it sounded like she wasn't too keen on her friends—maybe she'd get sick of them and return? Yeah. Yeah! Sure, Bill was sure she'd do that. "Wendyyy! Hey! You didn't happen to come back, did you?!" He waited. "Come on! I know you're here!"

####

"No wait, this'll be sick," Nate said. He was laying down on the walkway around the top of the water tower, wriggling out under the safety railing so his face and shoulders hung out in open air.

Wendy laughed. "Dude. What are you doing?"

"I'm gonna spray paint something on the bottom of the floor. Everyone'll go, 'How did that get there?'" He waved a hand at Lee. "Gimme a spray can."

Lee handed Nate a can of purple paint, and he slid out a little bit farther. His belly button was level with the edge of the walkway.

Wendy stopped laughing. "Whoa," she said. "Careful. What are you, crazy?" She put one hand on the railing.

"Yeah. Crazy genius. It's cool, look." Nate slid out another couple of inches. "I can just—lift my legs and hang from the railing by my knees, like a monkey—" He lifted his feet off the walkway, and immediately lost balance and slid forward. "Hey—"

Time seemed to slow down. Wendy had trained for this, the water tower's wooden legs were basically thin tree trunks, if she slid under the railing she could grab Nate and swing into one of the tower legs, they could slide down that to the bottom—

Lee dropped flat on Nate's legs, using his weight to pin him in place. "HEY!"

Wendy grabbed Nate's shirt. Together, she and Lee dragged him back onto the walkway. Nate rolled onto his back and stared at the sky, eyes wide.

Lee sat beside him and laughed nervously. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Whoo. Gimme a sec."

"What the heck, Nate!" Wendy was gripping the railing hard enough her arms shook. She tried to sound calm. "You almost got yourself killed, you dummy!" Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest.

"I'm fine," Nate said shakily. "I'm fine, just... lay off."

"Fine. Sor-ry. I'm just trying to make sure you don't literally die."

Lee gave Wendy an exasperated look. Nate closed his eyes and sighed. "Yeah, okay, mom."

The back of her neck went hot. Oh no, absolutely not. The mom friend was the opposite of the cool girl. That was the boring friend who drove everyone around and was too busy worrying to have fun. She'd never been mom-friended in her life.

"Hey, are you okay?" Lee asked Wendy. "I mean—this idiot's near death experience aside—" (Nate punched Lee's knee.) "—you've been kinda high-strung lately. Is everything cool?"

"Of course I'm cool," Wendy said automatically. Be cool, girl. "Sorry. Work junk's got me stressed. Soos keeps randomly closing at the last minute, and I'm losing hours, and... it's been getting to me, I guess. I just need to chill." She took in a deep breath. "Nate," she put a hand on his shoulder and said solemnly, "if you want to fall on your head and lose your last eight brain cells, I won't get in your way. I support your dreams, man."

"Pssh, shut up!" Nate shoved Wendy off and sat up, laughing. "Okay, new plan. What if I just—stay on the floor, but reach my arm under the side to paint it."

Lee asked, "How are you gonna see what you're drawing?"

Nate considered that. "You can reach under and use your phone like a mirror."

Wendy bit back the urge to tell them they were idiots. Were her friends not maturing fast enough, or was she just getting boring?

She leaned against the water tower and shut her eyes.

####

Laying on the bathroom floor, Bill said, "You know what, Cool Girl? I'm beginning to think you're ignoring me too." Everyone was here and everyone was ignoring him.

He heaved himself to his feet. How long had he been in here. Time lost all meaning in a sensory deprivation tank. It could have been days. He was beginning to get hungry. What would he do when his body needed food? Not to mention dehydration! Where was he going to get water in a bathroom?!

Bill did not, at that moment, possess the greatest clarity of mind.

He flinched in surprise at the sight of another human in the bathroom, and then his hopes went up—and then they went back down. Oh. Right. He'd taken the towels off the mirrors. Just him.

"Thanks for disappointing me," he snapped sarcastically at the human body in the reflection. "Again. As usual." He pointed at the reflection. "Hey—hey! What's that look on your face for? Don't you take that attitude with me, buster! It's your fault I'm in this mess!"

His reflection continued to glare wrathfully at him. It made him madder. The reflection's wrath deepened.

"WHAT?!" Bill demanded. "You keep your mouth shut, I'm the one shouting here! What do you have to be angry about?! I've never done anything to you! You owe me everything! I feed you, I clothe you, I wash you, and what do you give me in return?! Backaches and headaches! I could have been home partying with my friends by now, but do you know who's holding me back?! YOU!" He jabbed his finger against the mirror. The reflection jabbed a finger back. Voice cracking with rage, Bill squawked, "Don't you raise your hand at me, you little—!" He curled his hand in a fist, intending only to threaten the reflection; but when it shook a fist back at him, he reared back with a roar and punched the mirror. The glass crunched beneath his knuckles. His knuckles also crunched.

Bill stared at the broken glass, snapped out of his rage by the pain. Dozens of fragmented reflections stared back at him. He rubbed the stinging cuts on his knuckles.

"Of course," he said. "The solution's so obvious! Blood sacrifice!"

####

As Dipper passed the water tower, he spied an incomprehensible purple squiggle spray painted to the bottom of the walkway. How did that get there? Had Bill and Mabel been here? Maybe Mabel had done it with one of her spray cans to send a signal? Or maybe Bill had used his magic to float up and spray some magical alien rune from below.

He climbed up to look.

Nothing. No signs they'd been here, either. Dipper pulled out a town map he'd marked up with the locations Bill was most likely to hit, and peered toward them one by one from his vantage point; but he didn't see Bill or Mabel, nor any evidence of Bill's influence terrorizing the town. He was out of leads.

He climbed back down. He'd bike back to the shack, call Soos, maybe call the police, look for clues around the shack, chug some Mabel Juice for energy—desperate times—and join the hunt again...

As the Mystery Shack emerged from behind the trees, he saw, from another direction, Mabel biking up. His heart leaped into his throat.

Mabel waved. "Hey, Dipper!" She kicked down her kickstand and dismounted. "Did you find the wigglers?"

"Mabel!" Dipper almost tripped in his haste to get off his bike and pull her into a tight hug.

"Dipper? What is it?" Mabel awkwardly hugged him back. She whispered, "Why do you smell so bad."

"Are you okay?!" He held her out at arm's length, looking her up and down. "You're not hurt, are you?"

"Wh—? No, I'm great! I might've kinda exploded a couple of tiny spray paint cans in my pocket, though." She pulled up her sweater, showing the purple and orange stains on one side of her skirt. "Buuut—" She held out four slips of colorful card stock. "Guess who won awesome concert tickets!"

"What about Bill," Dipper demanded, "did Bill kidnap you?"

"What? No." Mabel shook her head, bewildered. "I locked him in the shack while I went out for more spray paint."

"Well, he's not there now! I searched everywhere!" Dipper gasped, "Then—he must have escaped while you were out."

"What?! But—how—"

"I don't know, but I searched the whole shack a couple of hours ago—"

"A couple of hours?!"

"—and there's no sign of him—"

"Then he could be anywhere by now!" Mabel squeezed her hands together, crushing her tickets. "Oh, this is bad. It's all my fault if he causes trouble! We've gotta find him before Grunkle Stan and Grunkle Ford get home!"

"But where?" Dipper asked. "I've already looked everywhere he might go! The basement, the fault, his corpse, town hall, that street with all the katanas in the gutter for some reason..."

"You're thinking like Bill the evil overlord, I can think like Bill the party animal! We've talked about all kinds of fun places he'd go if he was free!" She got back on her bike. "Come on, I'll tell you on the way to town, we can split up to search!"

Dipper got on his bike to follow, but said, "Come on, do you really think he'd waste time doing something fun now that he's free to be evil again?"

"Fun and evil are the same thing to him! Dipper, I can guarantee you, if Bill summons his terrible friends back to town, the first place he's taking them is the Putt Hutt," she said. "Because he wants to force the townspeople to run through giant minigolf obstacles, and also teach the Lilliputtians to do war crimes."

"Okay, I believe you," Dipper said. "Lead the way."

####

As Mabel and Dipper biked away from the shack, Bill cried, "Wait wait, no! Come back!" He pounded both fists on the bathroom window and let out a prolonged, anguished, "NOOO!"

They didn't hear him.

Waddles did, though. He pulled his face out of the dirt and looked up at Bill, muddy snout twitching.

"Waddles," Bill gasped, relieved. "Good pig. Smart pig. You know, I'm—I'm really very impressed by your scientific work. Especially that jet pack, wow. Seriously. Just between you and me, I don't think Fordsy's quite the biggest genius in the house, you know what I mean?"

Waddles blinked.

"Listen. I need a little favor. Go get help." He pointed toward town. "Go get Mabel and tell her I'm— Or, or just free me yourself! Can you do that? Come on up here?" Could pigs open doors? Bill couldn't think of any reason why not. It wasn't like Waddles was cursed.

Waddles tilted his head slightly, contemplatively. He didn't look persuaded.

"It'll just take you a second," Bill pled. "And then I'll owe you one! Big time! Listen, if you help me, you'll go down in history! You think that stupid hog with the fancy spiderwebs was special? He's nothing! I'll rearrange the constellations to form your face! It'll say 'Greatest Pig In The Universe!' How's that?!"

Waddles stared at Bill.

"Have we got a deal?"

Waddles snorted, his nose twitching upward.

"More?! What more could you want! An infinite feeding trough! A hundred sows! A Nobel prize! The most luxurious mud puddle in the world, what?! Just—tell me what you want!"

Waddles lay down and shut his eyes.

"You're a lazy bum, Waddles!" Bill smacked his hand on the window. "You hear me?! You could've had a brilliant academic future in any field from bioengineering to quantum technology, and you squandered it all to mooch off a twelve-year-old! All potential but no work ethic! You're pathetic! You're nothing!"

Completely unashamed and satisfied with his life choices, Waddles fell asleep.

Bill groaned in frustration. "I'll never get out of here!" He kicked over a box, kicked a shampoo bottle, kicked one of the many ancient cursed sigils he'd inscribed on the walls in his own blood, and kicked a towel. "They've abandoned me in this shack. They're never coming back. They're gonna burn it down with me inside. Those brats just came by to taunt me! Mabel's probably been in on it all along! They all have. After all I've done for them! Those ungrateful—"

Bill stomped across the bathroom and hammered on the door. "Was this your idea, Stanford Pines?! I know it was you! You've had it out for me ever since we finished the portal and you decided you didn't need me anymore! It was your big plan to trap me in here! You're just waiting to see if the hunger or the boredom gets to me faster, aren't you?! Gonna record that in your journal, huh? A cute little experiment to see whether my body or my mind gives out first?" He gave the door another violent pound. "You're an evil, sadistic freak, Stanford! And not even the fun kind! I know you're laughing at me right now! I know that's what you're doing!"

####

Ford kept his gaze fixed firmly on the Dontium generator as he blindly groped across the card table for the deck. "Where's—?"

"Here, I've gotcha." Fiddleford pushed a playing card into his hand.

"Thanks." Ford groped around the table until he found the three cards that had already been placed down, flipped the new one over, and carefully set it next to the others. "What's this one?"

"Four of clubs."

"Remind me why I'm responsible for dealing the community cards when I can't look at them and you can?"

"Because it's real distractin'," Fiddleford said, "Which is just what you need to keep you from thinkin' about the... oh."

Oh. The Dontium.

Sitting at the generator's controls, Soos said, "Aw, dudes. Needle's back down at zero."

Ford shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly let it out.

Sitting on a folding chair faced away from the Dontium generator, Stan groaned. "Seriously?! Again?"

Fiddleford said, "Sorry, sorry."

"Start from the top," Ford said tiredly. "Stan, you just focus on your part and I'll focus on mine. Or... not focus on mine, as the case may be."

Stan groaned again, but said, "Fine!" and crossed his arms irritably.

"Right," Ford said. "Where were we? Remind me what the current community cards are?"

"King of hearts, seven of hearts, two of diamonds, and four of clubs."

"Hmm." It wasn't an inspiring bunch of community cards. No chance for a straight, no chance for a flush, slim odds for four of a kind. He tried to mentally calculate the probability of a win. "And..." Ford waved the two cards he was holding. "What's my hand?"

"I'd tell ya, but last I checked, peekin' at yer opponent's poker cards is still considered cheating."

"Right," Ford sighed. That was going to make calculations harder.

"I could look," Stan said. "I'm allowed to look anywhere except the one place I'm not, right? If I tell you your cards—"

"You can't," Fiddleford said irritably, "because then you'll think about poker when you're s'posed to be thinkin' about—er..."

Soos laughed awkwardly. "Aw, dudes. You'll never guess what."

"Darn it!" Stan got to his feet and pointed at Ford. "You started thinking about the thing again!"

"You stopped thinking about the thing again!"

"How am I supposed to think about the thing when there's a game of Texas hold 'em five feet away?!"

"I knew we should have switched to a game Stan doesn't like." Ford looked at Fiddleford—it didn't matter, they weren't making any progress. "What if we try...?"

Firmly, Fiddleford said, "Stanford, I'll do many things for science. But you ain't getting me to play that diabolical hocus-pocusy wizard game."

Ford groaned. "We're going to be here all night."

Soos slowly raised a hand. "I have an idea," he said. "What if you both put on headphones. And Stan's plays a recording that just says 'think about the NowUSeeItNowUDontium generator' over and over. And Ford's plays—uh—I don't know, an audiobook with cool science facts or something?"

They considered that. Ford slowly nodded. Stan shrugged. "Eh, can't hurt."

####

Were shirts edible?

Nothing in this accursed bathroom qualified as human food. But if Bill could eke out just a few calories, maybe he could survive until the humans came by to pry the gold fillings from his starved corpse and turn the tables on them. Shirts were plants. They might accidentally contain a mineral or two. Right? Maybe? Bill knew a great many things about Earth, but he had never once needed to learn whether cotton yielded any nutritional benefit to human beings.

It was probably better for him than trying to chew up the wooden counter. He peeled off his shirt, steeled himself for the least appetizing meal of his life, and began distastefully chewing on the hem.

Several minutes in, it suddenly occurred to him to check the shirt's tag for nutrition info. He peered in the collar.

65% polyester, 35% cotton.

Well. He wasn't wasting his time on a shirt that was two-thirds plastic. He'd burn more energy chewing than he'd gain.

He pulled his shirt back on and lay on the bathroom floor. He could already feel his famished body metabolizing his own muscles for fuel.

If he returned to his true form when he died, the first thing he was doing was heating every ounce of polyester on the planet to five hundred degrees and melting it onto the skin of the humans stupid enough to wear it.

####

"Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid..." Mabel was muttering to herself in sync with pedaling the bike. She'd spent most of the ride along the road back to the shack alternating between this chant and berating herself in more detail: "I'm so stupid, augh! Why is it always me? Why am I always the one who lets Bill get out? Because I'm an idiot!"

"Whoa, hey. Don't say that," Dipper said. Granted, he did think leaving Bill home with no guards was kinda stupid, but Mabel was already punishing herself far in excess of what Dipper thought she deserved. And he'd left Bill home with one guard, so was he much better? "It's not all your fault—"

"Yes it is! I'm the one who decided to trust him at home alone! I'm the only one who's been trusting him at all! I knew he'd try something like this eventually!" Mabel tilted her head back and let out a long noise of frustration at the sky.

Dipper opened his mouth to try to offer more reassurance; but then he paused. "Wait. If you knew he'd do this, then why did you trust him?"

"Because...!" Mabel fell silent for a moment. "Because, I know he's a bad person... but I really, really do think he can get better." She had that little waver in her voice that she got whenever she was trying not to cry. "I'm figuring out how he thinks, I'm teaching him manners, I'm getting him to lie less... But, he can't prove he's getting better if he isn't given room to do the wrong thing, so he can choose the right thing instead. If he can't choose, then he's not good, he's just controlled. So I've... gotta give him chances."

Dipper stared at her, momentarily lost for words. "And—you're willing to risk the safety of the whole town—?"

"I mean I didn't think he'd escape entirely!" Her front tire wobbled; she slammed on the breaks. Dipper skidded to a stop just a few feet ahead.

Voice thicker, Mabel said, "I just—with Grunkle Ford so close to figuring out how to kill him, I really... really wanted him to prove he can be better."

All this time, watching her playing and goofing around with Bill, Dipper had assumed she was just ignoring how dangerous he was. But if anything, she was thinking about it more than anybody else. All the rest of the family had to worry about was Bill finding some way to destroy the world; while Mabel was worrying about Bill destroying the world, and Bill not making enough progress on some nebulous road to being "better," and whether he could prove himself to everyone else before it was too late.

Dipper didn't think Bill could do anything to prove himself. He thought Bill deserved to die. But that just made Mabel's position even worse.

"Oh, Mabel," Dipper murmured. "I'm sorry. I... didn't realize how much pressure you're under." All this time, Dipper had been seeing this as a battle where Bill won if he escaped to restart Weirdmageddon and the Pines won if they killed Bill. But for Mabel, she'd lose either way.

No wonder she'd learned so much about him, so fast. No wonder she was spending so much time around him. She didn't have any time to waste. And to think Dipper had been jealous of her bizarre new expertise. He didn't want to be doing what she was doing.

"S'fine. It's stupid." Mabel rubbed her nose on her arm, eyes downcast. "I'm the dumb-dumb who tried to be friends with an evil space criminal."

"You're not a dumb-dumb," Dipper said. "You're like, one dumb maximum."

Mabel snorted and laughed weakly. "Seriously, Dipper."

"You just want to help. Maybe too much."

She shrugged. "I guess." She rubbed her face again, then got back on her bike. "C'mon, it's almost dark. We should go."

"Yeah." Every second they wasted was one more second Bill could spend putting some devastating plot together.

They were headed back to the shack, but only long enough to regroup. They had already split the cereal bars and jerky that Dipper kept in his backpack for excursions, but they needed to get some proper food before they continued the hunt. And—as much as they dreaded it—they'd conceded they couldn't fix this themselves, and they had to call the adults to tell them they'd let Bill escape.

As they biked, Dipper said, "Hey. What did you mean, you're 'getting him to lie less'? Bill tells like four lies a minute."

"Oh. Right," Mabel said. "I guess I don't exactly see it as lying anymore because I understand what he really means."

"What, is he talking in some kind of code?"

"Sorta? I'm not sure if this is only a Bill thing, or if it's how people talked back on his planet? But he just doesn't have conversations like a human. When he says something, he doesn't really care about if it's true. He's telling you what he thinks should be true. So it's not like he's actually trying to lie, he's just... trying to use words to make a better reality." Mabel shrugged. "You've just gotta negotiate with him on the details of the new reality so you both like it."

Dipper blinked in bewilderment. "Mabel, that's objectively insane."

"It works, though!" Her proud smile wilted. "I thought it did, anyway."

Once they found Bill and had finally figured out how to kill him, Dipper would kill him twice for breaking Mabel's heart.

####

"Where haven't we looked for him yet?" Mabel asked, packing fresh provisions in Dipper's backpack. Waddles, who had come in with them and could tell something was wrong, had sat down reassuringly in the exact center of the kitchen.

"I didn't explore much of the forest." There was a lot of forest. "He's probably out there with a pair of scissors cutting open the dimensional rifts we glued shut last summer."

"Or taking over the radio station to broadcast a mind-control signal."

"Or breaking into the buried UFO to summon an alien invasion."

"Do you think we need to check the UFO?" Mabel asked. "I've never gotten to see it."

"Probably. If I was an evil triangle trying to restart an apocalypse, that's where I'd go." Either that, or hitch the first ride out of town—but that wasn't an option for Bill. Their one blessing was that they knew Bill still had to be nearby. He couldn't be farther than the weirdness barrier. "We'll need the magnet gun." Dipper headed for the stairs.

"And my grappling hook!" Mabel called. "Can you grab it for me?"

"You got it!"

As Dipper jogged past the bathroom, something rattled the door so thunderously that Dipper jumped sideways like a startled deer. The door howled, "Let me out, you monster! I'll kill you! I'll atomize you! I'll turn your intestines into a Klein bottle! I'll anti your matter—!"

Dipper stared. He opened the door. The bathroom belched forth a cloud of artificial lavender fragrance.

Behind it stood Bill Cipher, both hands on the doorframe, arms shaking, chest heaving, face contorted in rage. The moment the door was open, the rage melted away into a look of profound relief and his knees buckled under him. 

Dipper said, "What."

"You saved me!" He placed one hand reverently on the floor boards outside the bathroom. "You're my hero. I knew you wouldn't abandon—" He blinked, squinting up at Dipper's face. "Oh. It's just you. Eh."

Dipper said, "What."

"I was trapped!" His hair was disheveled; his hands were covered in scrapes and cuts; and his shirt's hem was shredded and tattered. There was a wild look in his dark-ringed eyes. He looked like a man who'd been crawling through the desert for a week, who'd then crawled into an active minefield. "I couldn't get out! I tried everything!"

Dipper gazed past Bill. The bathroom walls were coated in mysterious sigils drawn in toothpaste, makeup, and blood. One mirror was shattered, and the other had a smeared drawing of Bill's zodiac. There was a pile of wet cotton balls and used bandaids on the floor.He'd started writing his will on the shower curtain. He'd written an invocation to something called ⅃TO⅃OXA on the ceiling.

"I thought I was gonna die in here." Bill crawled across the hall, leaned back against the opposite wall, and closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. "I had to eat shampoo to survive." He hiccuped up several soap bubbles.

Dipper stared at Bill, stared into the bathroom again, and stared at Bill. "How long have you been in here?"

Dragging his hands down his face, Bill declared, "All afternoon! And evening!"

"You resorted to drinking shampoo in one afternoon?"

"I was hungry! Do you know how much fuel human bodies need?! It's insane!"

And that was the moment Dipper realized that all along, Mabel had been half right: Bill probably wasn't becoming "better"; but even so, they no longer had anything to fear from Bill Cipher. He wasn't haunting their dreams, he wasn't opening rifts. This, this was all he could bring to the table. He was so harmless it was pathetic.

Dipper would never be afraid of him again.

"Welp," Dipper said. "Enjoy your freedom, man. Bye." He turned to leave.

A hand closed on the back of his neck. Bill snarled in his ear, "Ohhh, no. You're not going anywhere. We're going down to the kitchen, and you're opening the fridge for me."

Wow, right, Bill couldn't even open the fridge by himself. Wow. Wow. That was so sad.

They had to slow down at the stairs; Bill was stumbling down them with the weariness of a soldier who'd survived a week in the trenches. As they went, Bill said, "Hey. What's your first name?"

"Wha—?" Somewhat offended, he said, "It's Dipper."

"No. I know that, obviously. Why wouldn't I know that?" (He sounded defensive.) "I meant your—your baby name. Birth certificate."

"Why do you need to know?" Was this like a fae thing? Was telling Bill his real name dangerous?

"It's been driving me insane all day." With the eyes of a desperate man grasping at the last fraying threads of his sanity, Bill said, "Is it Mabon? I could swear it's Mabon. Tell me it's Mabon."

"What? No, that's stupid. Mabon isn't even a real name."

"Yes it is, it's Welsh."

"It's Mason."

"HA!" Bill screamed triumphantly in Dipper's face, "MASON!" He was way too loud and looked way too ecstatic.

Dipper opened his mouth, then decided he didn't want to know and shut it.

Mabel was in the living room on her phone. "Hey, Soos? Could you put Grunkle Ford on a second?" She paused, then took a shaky breath and said, "Grunkle Ford? Hey. I've... got some bad news... We, uh..."

"Psst," Dipper hissed from the doorway, "Mabel!" He pointed at Bill. Bill pointed at himself.

Mabel's eyes widened. "We... ate all the leftovers! Haha, yeah, sorry, thought you should know! Anyway, love you, bye!" She lowered the phone. Dipper faintly heard Ford say, "What leftovers?" before Mabel ended the call. "Bill! You came back!"

"He never left the shack," Dipper said.

"You didn't?!" Mabel bounded across the room and flung her arms around him. It nearly knocked him over. "I knew you wouldn't let me down."

"Yeah, of course not. You can count on me, kid." Bill glanced sideways at Dipper, brows raised questioningly. What?

Flatly, Dipper said, "He got locked in the bathroom."

"What?!" Mabel stepped back, looked Bill up and down, and said, "You look awful! What happened?"

"I was trapped," Bill said wretchedly. "I thought I was a goner." Dipper rolled his eyes.

"Oh my gosh, you poor thing!" Mabel hugged him again. "Tell me all about it."

"In the kitchen."

"Of course! You must be starving."

"I am," Bill said, hand on his heart, the most pitiful thing you ever did see. "That was the worst afternoon of my existence. You know—being stuck in a human body makes waiting for anything absolute torture. An energy being can wait indefinitely, but a flesh being can feel the passage of time via its own cycle of slowly decaying flesh. The flesh knows it's got less than a century til its expiration date. Compared to the length of my entire life, one afternoon to a human is proportionate to, like..." There was a pause as Bill did some mental math, "over nine million years of my life? So I was basically in there for nine million years!"

"That's awful! I'm so sorry, if I'd had any idea..."

Bill was enjoying this performance, Dipper was sure of it. If he were any hammier he'd be a pork chop.

Still—and Dipper never thought he'd be grateful for this—at least Bill was here.

He followed Mabel and Bill into the kitchen to get some proper dinner.

####

Dipper pulled a tray of dinosaur chicken nuggets out of the oven. "Okay, dinner's ready. You guys want any condiments? Ketchup? Barbecue sauce?" He looked at Bill. "Shampoo?" Mabel snorted.

The absolute picture of dignity, Bill said, "Shampoo's really more of a dressing than a condiment." Once he'd raided the cabinet for snacks, Bill had gotten bored with the woe-is-me act and was now acting like he was above any petty jabs about his bathroom adventure. "I'll take maple syrup."

Mabel looked at Bill like he'd just invented a brand new number. "I'll take maple syrup, too."

Dipper split the nuggets on three plates—they weren't quite divisible by three, so he gave Bill the plate with one fewer.

"By the way," Bill said conversationally. "How was dumpster diving?"

"Shut up." Dipper took one more nugget from Bill's plate.

Once they were all seated around the table, Bill said, "So! Let's talk alibis."

Dipper frowned. Mabel said, "Alibis for what?"

"I might have been safe at home all day, but you two didn't know that, because you both decided to leave the big scary triangle here alone. I mean, anything could have happened. What if I'd burned the house down?" Bill feigned a grimace. "I don't think you want the grunkles to know you left, do you?"

Mabel winced. Dipper said, "So, what—are you blackmailing us?"

"Nooo. I'm saying we need to get our stories straight in case they ask. After all, I'd hate for you kids to get in trouble."

"I think you're just embarrassed they might find out what you were doing all day."

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't see why I should be embarrassed by your negligence."

After half an hour of rigorous debate, they agreed that, if anybody asked, they'd never left the house and had spent all afternoon battling a ghost werewolf. It was the one thing they could think of that made them all feel sufficiently cool, but was mundane enough it wouldn't call for any follow-up questions.

They collectively decided they didn't know anything about the state of the bathroom.

####

(I hope y'all found that half as hilarious to read as I found it to write. If you enjoyed I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts! Next week: the complete emotional opposite of this week.)

[dappledpaintbrush]

Full honest options on dimentio?

Looks at you like this

Autistic Answer: OHH YM GODODDODHRKEJTJTKTJR LAYS FLAT ON MY BSCK ON A HIGHWAY HESSOOO FUCKINGGNCOOOOOL RUNS FULL SPEED AT A. BRICK WALL AND JUMPS THROUGH LEAVING A CLOUD OF DUST AND A SHAPE OF MYSELF IN THE WALL IN MY WAKE I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HES SO INTERESTING AND LOSER PILLED I NEED HIM EMBROIDERED ON MY ARM

Autistic Answer:

Okay so at the start of my spm special interest when I was a tiny little googoogaga baby (seven years old) Dimentio was just. This guy. Evil and shit but just a guy. But he was MY guy. I don’t remember beating the game that young. I seriously think I gave up on the yold desert puzzle and just binged koopakungfu let’s plays over and over again but regardless I remember the aftermath and GODDDDDDDDDD I was so indescribably enamored with this Thing . it was REVOLTING.

Now as a near 19 year old I can’t think about him or the game in general without having to stop drop and roll but at the end of the day, Dimentio is still just some guy. But in the morning and the afternoon he’s a fucking idiot. Like you absolute goofiest of goobers, all you had to do was teleport the heroes to Dimension D and wait everything out. That shit is why he’s currently burning in hell. Not for mass murder or being annoying but for the stupidest plan I have ever heard in my entire life. He is also one of the most intriguing characters ever made in the Mario franchise.

Like okay. You are given this purple and yellow triangular smudge on your screen and you go “hmm… (scratches chin) something is Wrong With This Animal. It Might be Sick.” And of course he ends up betraying the sympathetic tragic villain Bleckie Bear and dies (thank GOD) whatever credits roll NO!!!!

FIRST. This guy tells you Bleck has lied about creating new worlds. That is . THAT IS!!! Now he could be lying but he could also NOT be. After all, what other motivation would he have for betraying Bleck? All the worlds to himself perhaps …………………. That’s the thing. You don’t know . That’s this entire character.

You

DONT.

KNOW.

Anything he says and anything about him is either a blatant lie, COULD be a lie, COULD be the truth, or is vague 3,000 year old information given from this dude in a bar that may or may not even be about Dimentio. He is LITERALLY wearing a mask. A TWO FACED MASK might I add.

Nintendo doesn’t lay out his story for you on screen like they do with Bleck. If you don’t take the time to explore, Dimentio will never be more than Bleck’s silly and funny-talking minion who betrayed him out of greed or.. whatever reason. Because he didn’t say it. No no- You have to go out of your way to investigate and pay money and put pieces of this puzzle together to find out that hurt people hurt people (🤓)

He could be some random bloke. He could the descendant of this sad unnamed character and somehow “never found happiness” whatever THAT means. He could be THE sad unnamed character that went through an accident so devastating that it left his mother dead and it left everyone believing HE was dead. This accident, whatever it was, was so horrifying that Dimentio, who can teleport across dimensions, was unable (by choice or not) to find and tell his remaining family he was alive. After his “death”, his sister would die as well. Their father, likely going insane with unimaginable grief, would rip her soul from the afterlife just to keep his only child- the only family he had left- with him, oblivious to the fact that somewhere, his son was still alive. This little girl, now forever trapped as a Pixl, would become so angry at what her father had done that she would start a war and slaughter ANYONE that tried to get in her way. The Pixl Queen- this angry, scared, and confused child- would lose once more. She would be destroyed. All she is now is a shadow of her former self. And that’s what she would reform as in the pits below an Ancient city, where, at the hands of our heroes, she would lose AGAIN. Dimentio could be oblivious to all of this. He could know a fraction of it. He could know all of it. He could hold no guilt. He could blame himself for what had happened to her, for he had been gone all those years- whatever that means.

He could want to destroy everyone and everything out of personal gain- to recreate them all in his image and rule them as he sees fit all because he is a greedy narcissist. He could want to destroy everyone and everything because, like Blumiere, he sees no point in anything after losing all he loved in all worlds. Maybe he betrayed Blumiere because Dimentio wanted to rule a timeline that goes his way and ONLY his way. Maybe “his way” is where he gets all he wanted in riches, in wealth, in a population that essentially worships him, and so on. After all, he does say that he wants to be king of all worlds. Maybe that isn’t everything he wants. After all, he doesn’t just wipe out everyone in all dimensions and create mindless followers using the Dark Prognosticus that is capable of doing that exact thing. No. Like Blumiere, Dimentio, too, wants the worlds gone. Erased. All of them. The worlds that caused that accident. killed his mom. “killed” him. killed his sister. And in these self-described and self-created perfect new worlds, his timeline, his way, where he can create anything and anyone he wants- maybe he isn’t alone anymore. Whatever that means.

In my full honest opinion, I think he is SO .FUCKING. COOL.