#i want him and bill cipher to go head to head okay i need this for my 2013 selfs enrichment and fulfillment

[cemeterything]

the amount of people i've seen saying cecil isn't a true tumblr sexyman is insulting. i did NOT spend my entire 2013 scrolling past 50 drawings a day of the most sexyman ass skintight waistcoat and purple tie alexandria's genesis looking indigo eye and tentacle tattoo sleeved twink tagged as "#wtnv" on mobile in the era where you still had to install xkit to block tags for you to tell me that cecil gershwin palmer isn't a tumblr sexyman. know your fucking history.

#🐉 #idc much about the polls in general but im invested in this one. CECIL SWEEP!!! #i want him and bill cipher to go head to head okay i need this for my 2013 selfs enrichment and fulfillment

[ckret2]

Chapter 41 of human Bill Cipher being really sick of being the Mystery Shack's prisoner: after absolutely terrorizing Gideon for projecting used car ads into Bill's dreams, tries to blackmail Gideon into working for him again.

But not before showing some unexpected sympathy for the plight of a child psychic on whose shoulders the family's financial future rests.

####

Dipper and Mabel were in the middle of a race on a roller coaster track when Bill wandered back downstairs. He sat on the couch armrest next to Mabel and precariously balanced as he crossed his legs. "So I've been thinking over this whole thing," Bill said. "I think I should apologize to Gideon."

"Work that out all by yourself?" Dipper glanced at the clock. "Wow. And it only took you half an hour."

Mabel finished a lap. While the roller coaster track slowly lifted her car to the top of the hill to start the next lap, she turned to give Bill an appraising look, ready to assess his work. "Apologize for what?"

"For terrorizing him! Is this a trick question?"

She nodded slowly—a little skeptical, but so far so good—but had to look away as she regained control of her car. "What's your angle?"

"I'm equilateral, work it out."

"Shut uuup, I'm serious."

"Why do I need to have an angle? Maybe I want to practice some of the apology lessons they're teaching on Color Critters! Aren't you the one who wanted me to be a decent person? You should be thrilled. You are thrilled."

"Bill."

"Okay fine, I want you to stop looking at me like I'm evil incarnate over a silly little prank letter." He nudged Mabel's head with his elbow. She smacked his arm away. "Isn't that the only reason anyone apologizes? To stop people from getting mad at them?" He lifted his eyepatch and squinted at the screen. "Goose in the left barrel."

Mabel swerved left. "Yes! Eat tail feathers, Dipper!"

"No no no no—!" His anguished groan mingled with angry honks. He tossed down his controller as Mabel sailed past his disabled car. "I'm not playing with Bill in the room."

Mabel laughed. "You're a sore loser!"

"I'll be out of your matted hair in a few minutes," Bill said. "You're cranky, go get a juice."

Dipper stomped from the room, grumbling. "Whatever, I'm getting a snack." He pointed at Bill, "Not because you told me to! I'm just hungry! It's got nothing to do with you!"

"Sure." Bill nudged Mabel again. "C'mon, let me use my training. Don't think I haven't noticed you're trying to mold me into a model citizen. Why bother if I never get a chance to act like one?"

Mabel looked at him thoughtfully. "You know what? Okay. I guess not wanting people to be mad at you is a good enough reason to apologize." She'd been hoping he'd land on genuine remorse, but she'd take what she could get.

"Great! Fisherman's out, Questiony's working, Sixer's gonna be in his cave til dinner, Dolores doesn't care—" Bill gestured toward the door, "so let's get the bracelets and get to the kid's house while the adults are distracted."

Mabel grimaced. "Oough. Right. We have to actually visit him."

"Unless you want me to mail an apology letter—"

"Definitely not." She sighed. "Well, if it's for the greater good... put on something other than a hoodie and let's go."

"You got it." Bill hopped off the couch and swung with one hand around the doorframe as he headed to the stairs.

####

Dipper tried to protest, but he'd missed his window to talk Mabel out of it; and so Bill and Mabel headed out, with Bill in a loose smiley face-covered Hawaiian shirt—Mabel approved of the friendly message—an undershirt, the leggings that looked like jeans, and his dress shoes. In other words, about as disarmingly unthreateningly un-Bill-like as he could get. He seemed to get bouncier and more energetic the longer they walked outside, until by the time they were turning onto Gideon's street he was cartwheeling up the sidewalk.

Bill waited for Mabel to open the gate in front of Gideon's house; but while Bill blithely passed through, Mabel lingered behind a few steps. Bill paused and glanced back. "Hey. All good, star girl?"

"Yeah." Mabel laughed nervously and caught up. "Just... haven't been to his house since before he got weird. Kinda gives me the willies now."

"Can't blame you. This is the guy who agreed to be my sheriff in exchange for custody of your bubble key."

Mabel cringed. "Did he really?"

"Oh yeah. Think he was planning to visit you in there until he wooed you? I never asked him. I didn't want the details."

"Ugh." Mabel shuddered.

Bill paused. "Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned that ten feet from his front door."

"It's... it's fine." She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "Greater good. Right?"

He didn't answer immediately, tapping a foot as he thought. "Listen. Once we're in there, do you want me to go somewhere private to talk with him? So you don't have to worry about him leering at you the whole time?"

"Would you?" Mabel's shoulders slumped as a little tension eased up, relief obvious on her face. "But how will I know if you've apologized properly?"

"That little tattle will tell you if I do an awful job." Bill laughed. "Come on! I don't need you grading me on a rubric! Gimme a chance to prove I can say 'I'm sorry' without my life coach telling me how to behave."

"Thanks, Bill." She gave him a quick hug.

"Sure, any time kid. I'm not about to let any creeps get to you on my watch." Bill stretched his arms out, fingers laced together. "Ready?" When Mabel nodded, Bill knocked on the door.

After a long moment, a worried-looking, gray-haired woman opened the door. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Gleeful!" Bill offered a partial bow. "We're here to visit Gideon, he should be expecting us. Would you let him know we're here?"

"Oh. Yes, of course." Her voice was a hushed murmur, as though she were talking to herself—or perpetually concerned about being overheard. She didn't raise her voice much as she called into the house, "Gideon? You have visitors."

Voice muffled, Gideon shouted from upstairs, "Who is it!"

Joy glanced over Bill and Mabel, but her gaze lingered on Mabel's face. "Oh. Aren't you that girl he...?"

"It's Mabel."

Joy said, "It's Mabel, and—"

Gideon let out an alarmed squawk. "Ohmygoodness. JUST A MINUUUTE! Where did I leave my cologne—"

Joy watched the ceiling nervously, listening to the subtle thuds.

Bill glanced her up and down, as though sizing up what he had to work with; and then he smiled brightly and said, "Well, I'm sure the little star's preparing a big entrance! Shall we wait inside?"

Joy started a little. "Oh—yes, of course. Please, come in." She pulled the door open wider and gestured to the sitting area.

Bill and Mabel took a seat on the couch. Bill crossed one ankle over his knee in a casual figure 4, and gestured to the armchair as though he were the host giving his guest permission to sit. Joy hesitated, but took the seat, sitting straight up without touching the back of the seat, feet together and hands laced over her knees.

"And how has Gideon been lately?" Bill asked. "We haven't had a chance to catch up since last summer!"

"Oh—I'm sure he's probably fine," Joy said, eyes darting around—to the clean carpet, to the framed pictures hanging straight on the wall, to the doorway into the kitchen.

"'Probably'?" Bill echoed.

"Well. He's really closer to his father, you see..."

"Nonsense." Bill lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I trust a woman's intuition on this sort of thing." He paused. "I'd wink here, but uh..." He gestured at his eye patch and shrugged with a helpless grin.

Joy curled her lips into her mouth and, for the first time since she'd opened the door, for a fraction of a second, nearly almost smiled. But it faded quickly; and when she spoke, her voice was low enough that Mabel had to lean halfway across the coffee table to hear her. (Bill didn't even move.) "You should probably know before you see him: he... has seemed a little bit cranky, recently."

"Oh?" Bill prompted.

(Mabel mumbled, "'Recently'?" and Bill nudged her.)

"Nothing like he was when he—" Joy faltered and quickly course corrected, "before his arrest. But, a bit. But then he's going through so much—reintegrating into life on the outside, trying to make friends at school..."

"Say, that's nice to hear! Has he made many?"

Joy hesitated. "He's always been... such a precocious child. It makes it hard for him to relate to other... And honestly, I think most of the children are jealous of his talents."

Bill nodded sympathetically. "I'm sure they are. Kids can be so cruel when they notice someone special. The nail that sticks out gets hammered down."

Joy nodded. "Yes—exactly. And he's so... sensitive."

Bill gave Mabel a warning glance. She pursed her lips tightly and puffed out her cheeks. Satisfied she wasn't about to weigh in on why Gideon wasn't making friends, Bill turned back to Joy. "Do you think that's what's been bothering him lately?"

"Well, yes, there's that."

Voice a tad lower, Bill prompted, "And...?"

Joy paused. She twisted her hands together. "And—I think he might be concerned about his father's business."

"Oh, the auto dealership?" Bill sat up a little. "I hope it hasn't been struggling lately?"

"It's... been a slow few months," Joy said. "It must be weighing on him—"

"He doesn't feel responsible, does he?"

Joy quickly shook her head. "Of course not. It isn't his fault. But he's just a little boy, there's not much he can do to help. Besides perform in a commercial, maybe—and he doesn't like that, we don't make him do that anymore—or..." She trailed off. "Well. Not knowing how to help or what to do... I can imagine he must feel... guilty." She stared down at her hands as she spoke.

Bill's gaze never wavered from her face. He nodded slowly. "I'm sure the business must be weighing on the whole family. It can't be easy for you, Joy—keeping a household running during such a difficult time." He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'll see what I can do to help you all."

Joy stared at his face, eyes shining. "I'm, sorry—did I catch your name?"

"Mr. Locke is fine, thanks. I was in business talks with your son before his incarceration."

Mabel leaned against Bill and whispered, "You mean he hired you to invade my grunkle's brain—"

Bill elbowed her.

Footsteps scurried down the stairs. "I'm coming!" Gideon rushed into the room, tugging his sleeves down his wrists, all gussied up and reeking of three separate hair products. "Hi Mabel my honey pie! What a pleasant surprise, what brings you by so s—" His gaze fixed on Bill, and his sweet smile twisted into fury. "You!"

Joy quickly stood up. "I should be—vacuuming the dining room." She hurried from the room, giving Gideon a wide berth as she went. The sound of vacuuming quickly filled the house.

Gideon never looked away from Bill. "Just what do you think y—"

Bill was on his feet and sweeping across the room before Gideon could get more out. "Hello again! I don't think we were properly introduced. The name's Goldie Locke." He blinked. "Wink."

Gideon grimaced. "You serious? Goldilocks? That's the best you could do?"

"I thought it was funny!"

Mabel scooted up onto the arm of the sofa, took a leap off, and landed next to Bill. "I came up with it!"

Gideon smiled uncomfortably. "Oh—sure, sure. Real cute."

"We came by so Goldie here," Mabel poked Bill's arm with both hands, "could give you a proper apology for his... 'prank.'" She got behind Bill and poked him in the back, directing him toward the stairs. "So you two go off somewhere private and do that! Go! Go on!"

"Wh— private?" Gideon leaned around Bill to give Mabel a pleading look. "M-Mabel, aren't you coming too?"

Mabel laughed nervously. "No, definitely not. I'm staying right here."

"But—but—"

"It's fine! If he tries any—" her voice dropped to a whisper, "—weird space demon magic—you can just scream. But he's basically harmless! I promise."

"But... I don't wanna be alone with..."

Bill put a hand on Gideon's back, turned him around, and practically dragged him toward the stairs. "And she doesn't want to be alone with you, and I'm going to respect her wishes."

Gideon hissed at Bill. He wasn't quite sure what to do when Bill hissed back. No one had ever done that before.

"You've got nothing to worry about," Bill said, giving Gideon a very worrying smile. "I just want an opportunity to show you the sincerity of my remorse. A little heart-to-heart! And anyway, you and I have a lot of catching up to do."

####

The moment Gideon's bedroom door shut, Bill said, in an exaggeratedly innocent golly-gee-whiz voice, "'Well, Mabel, the thing is, I was just cranky because I haven't gotten a decent night's sleep in days, because Gideon's been broadcasting mind control dreams to the town multiple times a week! Yeah, you know how you've been waking up feeling hypnotically compelled to buy a car? Good ol' Gideon! But you're right, bullying isn't the solution! I should have just asked him to cast his brainwashing spell a little further from the Mystery Shack—'" Bill cut off with a laugh. "I take it you get the picture! Your flesh is as white as your hair! It's—it's creepy. Stop it."

Gideon was already on the far side of the room, holding a floating arm desk lamp toward Bill like a sword. Voice shaking, he asked, "How do you know about that spell? H-how are you even alive? And here like... like this?"

"Does it matter?" Bill meandered around the room, looking at Gideon's matching nightstands, his TV, the floppy teddy bear on his bed. "Here's the only important question: what's it worth to you for me not to spill the beans to your sweetheart?"

Gideon swallowed hard.

As Bill rounded the bed, Gideon backed away from him until his back was pressed against the wall between his vanity and his dresser. Bill leaned over to look under the bed and nudged a rolled-up tarp with his foot. It unrolled across the floor, revealing Gideon's magic circle. "Uh-huh."

"Please stop looking around my room."

"Relax, I just want to see what's changed! This is hardly the first time I've seen your room." He glanced down at the subtle depiction of his face woven into the pattern on Gideon's carpet. "I've had eyes in here since you were a baby." 

He leaned over Gideon's bed, studying his knit zodiac blanket. "Although this eye is new. You went with red, white, and blue? How patriotic." He tugged at the blanket's edges, straightening it out. "Lots of pilling on the yarn, this thing's been very well loved. Does it still smell like Shooting Star, you cretin?"

"You keep your hands off of Mabel's blanket, you—!" Gideon swung his lamp toward Bill. It missed by a foot.

Bill didn't even flinch. "You're very lucky that you missed." For a moment, his voice was inhumanly low.

Gideon's blood ran cold. He clutched the lamp against his chest. "W-what do you want from me? I'm sorry I disturbed your sleep, all right? Is that what you want to hear?!"

"It's a good start!" Bill sat on Gideon's bed and made himself comfortable, propping himself up on his elbows, ankles crossed casually, resting in the center of his own zodiac. "Now, promise you'll stop advertising in people's dreams, and everything's forgiven!"

"I..." Gideon bit his lip.

Bill grinned a little wider. "What's the problem, kid? It's not like your daddy needs you running his advertising campaign! The family finances aren't resting on your shoulders!" He laughed.

Gideon just bit his lip harder. 

"Oh wait. Maybe they are. Are they?"

He looked down at the tarp. "Mrrng."

Bill sat up, leaning forward until he caught Gideon's gaze again. "So sorry, Star Boy! I didn't realize how serious your situation is!" His wicked smile said otherwise. "Wow, that must be so hard for you—the family breadwinner, at such a young age. Knowing your family needs you to keep them afloat. And it's not like you can just go out and get a job! So what can you do, except... well, whatever it is you already know how to do? Putting on a good show, right?"

"It's not like that," Gideon snapped, ignoring the weight in the pit of his stomach. He looked down at his lamp weapon and tugged anxiously at one of his sleeves. "It—it's not as though we're broke! We just... might have to tighten our belts a little bit, that's all. It's normal, most businesses have their ups and downs."

"Of course. Just no big shopping trips for a while! Pity you're about to need a whole new wardrobe, though."  Bill casually pushed himself off Gideon's bed, taking a step closer. "Hey, wanna know when your next growth spurt starts?"

Gideon shrank down. "No."

"It costs a lot to keep a growing kid clothed. And fed, and stocked with school supplies... If father asks for a little help, how can you refuse? If you don't, you could lose the business, lose your house, lose everything... all that, plus knowing it'd be your fault for not doing what you can? It's heartbreaking."

Bill leaned over Gideon, propping himself up with a hand on his dresser, trapping him in his shadow. Gideon cringed; but Bill asked, voice unexpectedly low and almost gentle, "You're so important. There's a helplessness that comes from wielding that kind of power, isn't there?"

The weight in Gideon's stomach grew heavier. Bill must have been watching his life ever since last fall; that was the only way he could have understood what Gideon was feeling so well. And yet—hearing someone else put it into words was a strange relief. He'd cut to the bleeding core of the issue. Gideon was the only one with the power to do anything, so he had to do something. It was a helplessness.

"Yeah." Gideon put his lamp back on his dresser, defeated. "Yeah, there is."

Bill crouched in front of Gideon, meeting him at eye level. "It just so happens that I'm sympathetic to your situation, kid. I get it." It was hard to read the mood in Bill's alien gaze; but for a moment, Gideon was sure he really did see a glimmer of sympathy in his slit pupil. "So how about this: I could help you out. Make some calls, pull some strings... give the family business a little boost," he said. "If you do me a couple small favors first."

Outraged, Gideon shouted, "You're blackmailing me into working for you again?! You—!" With a furious grunt, Gideon shoved Bill away from him.

To his surprise (and immediate horror), Bill lost balance, toppling onto his back with a yelp. But he just rolled onto his side and hopped back to his feet, laughing. "No no no! I'm blackmailing you into knocking off the annoying dream spell. That's all! Cut it out, or I'm telling Mabel. And—heck, how about the police while I'm at it?"

"You wouldn't—"

"I am pals with the sheriff and the mayor. Mind control happens to already be illegal in Gravity Falls, you can thank Quentin Trembley for that—such a forward thinker! I don't think there are any state-level laws yet, but I bet they'll wriiite ooone just for yoo-oou." The last sentence came out as a singsong taunt. "Anyway: drop the mind control. That's all I'm asking for. Okay?"

Gideon had circled around Bill to his bed, where he pulled off his zodiac blanket and bundled it against his chest. He wasn't sure which sounded worse. Prison probably should, but the thought of giving Mabel a fresh reason to hate him... He looked down at the blanket, and heaved a shaky sigh. "Okay."

"So? We're agreed? No more dream advertisements?"

"No more dream advertisements. You win."

"Great!" Bill beamed at Gideon. "But then, completely separately, if you want help saving the family business... well, offer's on the table! In fact, I'd happily offer to help without asking anything in return—"

"—you should, it's mostly your fault—"

"—except that, with my own situation being like it is, what with the limited access to my usual resources... I need you to help me help you." He spread his hands apologetically. "Nothing I can do about it."

Gideon pressed his lips together, looking down at his zodiac blanket. A fold in the fabric displayed part of the ripped heart. Gideon plucked out the blanket until he could glimpse the top of the shooting star.

He swallowed hard. "No. Absolutely not."

Bill blinked. "'Scuse me?"

"I can't accept your help," Gideon said. "I lead a support group of ex-cons—the very same ones I stupidly led into battle for you—and what would they say if they heard I was working for you again?"

The indulgent smile on Bill's face vanished. Rage flashed in his eye. "What would they say if they learned you're the first among them to reoffend?" He pointed at Gideon's magic circle. "Wouldn't they be disappointed. Aren't they your followers these days?"

Gideon squirmed under Bill's glare, backing away until he bumped into one of his nightstands. "F... 'followers'?"

"Your devotees—now that your Tent of Telepathy audience has abandoned you." The new smile that twisted across Bill's face now was hard and cruel, and his eye fixed like a prison searchlight on Gideon made Bill seem much closer than he was. "Isn't being worshiped sublime, Star Boy? That unconditional love? A worshiper will always be more reliable than some girl's fickle heart. But even the most 'unconditional' love always comes with fine print. How far are you willing to go to remain worthy of their love?"

Bill pulled a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and waved it in the air. "We both know you'll help your daddy's business. The only question is if you'll do it your way, or mine." He placed the paper on Gideon's dresser and tapped it with his finger. "My way doesn't even involve breaking the law."

Gideon shook his head. "I won't..."

"I'll leave it with you anyway."

Bill strolled around the bed. "Well! I think we're finished here, how about you?" He stopped in front of the door.

He turned back. "Gideon, you're gonna have to get the door, I can't..."

"What?" Gideon asked. "Y'can't what?"

Bill huffed. "I'm sort of under this curse? So. If you could just—"

Gideon burst out laughing in disbelief. "The Amnesia Limina curse? You can't open doors?! Are you kidding me!"

"I can still ruin the rest of your embarrassingly short mortal life, you twit. Just—just get over here—"

Still laughing, Gideon crossed the room and got the door.

"Yeah. Thanks. Great."

As they came downstairs, Mabel hopped off the sofa. "Sooo? How'd the apology go?"

"Great!" Bill got in front before Gideon had a chance to speak. "I think we really understand each other better. Isn't that right, Gideon?"

Gideon grumped, "I think it's the worst 'apology' I've ever heard."

Bill gave him a dirty look powerful enough to kill a skittish horse; but he flinched under the weight of Mabel's disappointed frown. He laughed nervously, "Okay, so I still need some practice with my delivery! Human tones are finicky." He stared at Gideon. "But you accept the overall content of it, right?"

Bill was giving Gideon the creepiest smile he'd ever seen. But Mabel, on the other hand, was giving him this hopeful look—like she wanted this to go well so badly, and only Gideon could make or ruin her day. There's a helplessness that comes with wielding that kind of power.

In the world Gideon had been raised in, if someone who has transgressed against you apologizes, you don't have the right to withhold their forgiveness—it makes you as bad as the transgressor. The only way he could refuse was if he told Mabel he hadn't even gotten any apology; but there was no way to say that without admitting what they'd really discussed. "Yeah," Gideon muttered at his shoes. "I s'pose I accept it."

"Yes!" Mabel pumped a fist in the air so enthusiastically she lifted a few inches off the floor. "Great work! Happy face stickers for everybody!" She smacked a sticker on Bill's shirt and Gideon's lapel.

They tugged out their clothes to inspect their stickers. Bill's had a giant yellow smiley face over the words "Good job!" Gideon's had a smiling whale surrounded by the words "WHALE DONE". They were both disproportionately elated by their prizes.

"So can we go now?" Mabel whispered, "I feel like Mr. Gleeful's new clown painting is staring at me."

"Just one second. I should have a word with the missus of the house." Bill waved back at the kids as he trotted from the room. "Be right back!"

Mabel eyed Gideon warily.

Gideon smiled winningly. "So, Mabel. As long as you're already over here, would you like to stay for dinner—?"

"Nuh-uh." She turned and headed for the door. "Goodbye forever!"

"Aw."

Bill followed the sound of vacuuming through the kitchen into the dining room, and rapped on the doorframe. "Knock knock."

Joy flinched and spun around. "Oh." She turned off her vacuum. "Yes, Mr. Locke?"

"Just wanted to thank you for your hospitality before we leave!"

"Oh—yes, of course. You're welcome."

He lowered his voice, "And I also wanted to tell you not to worry about a thing. I'm sure everything will turn out fine for your family—and for you." He flashed her a winning smile.

She hesitantly nodded. "Thank you."

####

As they walked to the gate around the Gleeful property, Mabel said, "You weren't just all talk with Gideon's mom, were you? You actually are planning to help her."

Bill gave her a surprised look. "Something like that. How'd you know?"

"You told her to call you Mister. That means you mean business!"

A crooked smile stretched across his face. "Hey! No fair, you know too much. You're figuring out all my secrets."

Out on the sidewalk, Bill did a cartwheel, attempted to turn it into a handstand, and fell on the sidewalk. He brushed off a scraped elbow with a grumble and got back up. Well, it matched his burn on the other side.

"4 out of 10."

"I didn't ask."

Mabel snickered. "You know—your conversation with Gideon might not have gone perfectly. But you realized you did something wrong, you apologized for it, and you're gonna do better." She patted his arm. "I'm really proud of you, Bill. That's some serious growth."

"Really?"

"Really."

He beamed. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had been proud of him. (Granted, he didn't generally tolerate relationships in which somebody felt like they had enough superiority over him to feel "pride" toward his actions. Generally "awe" or "admiration" were more common.) He was basking in the praise. He was over the moon. He was euphoric. He was the best person to ever exist.

The fact that the praise was horribly misplaced didn't faze him in the least.

####

Gideon had spent the past minute picking peas out of his pot pie and scooting them to the edge of his plate.

Bud cleared his throat. "Son, you really ought to eat your vegetables. And they'll taste better mixed in with the rest of your food than all by themselves."

"I don't want my peas."

"But they're good for you! Don't you want to grow up big and strong—?"

Gideon flinched. He pounded the table. "I said I don't WANT my peas!"

"All right, okay, that's fine! Just thought I'd suggest it."

Gideon grumpily scooped up a forkful of chicken, carrots, and corn, eyed the carrots skeptically, and took a bite. It was fine. "So, father. How was work?"

Bud sighed. "Oh, it would've made more sense just to close for the day. At least then I wouldn't be wasting money on air conditioning the office."

"Oh." Gideon stabbed at a lone piece of corn with his fork. "Maybe we oughta... stop with the nighttime ads. It doesn't sound like they're helping."

"Ahh, you might be right."

Gideon heaved a sigh of relief.

"I just don't know what else to try." Bud shook his head. "I've tried newspaper ads, TV ads, radio ads, billboards, fliers, sales, cutting brake lines..." He settled his hand near Gideon's spot at the table. "Son, you know I know you're doing the best you can to help our family, and it means more to me than I can say. But, if there's anything else you can think of...?"

Gideon tried to avoid his father's gaze—and instead, spotted his mother. She usually kept to herself during dinner, wholly focused on her own plate when she wasn't setting out dishes or cleaning them up. But tonight, she was looking right at Gideon. Like she expected something out of him, too.

He shrank into his seat. "Well. I've got one other idea I could try."

####

Gideon shut the door to his room—and, just to be safe, stuck his chair under the doorknob. Then he gingerly picked up the paper on the dresser and unfolded it.

The same tall, thin handwriting as on the letter he'd received—but even more cramped, cramming as much text on one torn-out book page as possible. A terse paragraph of instructions, a phone number, a numbered list of questions, a prepared statement.

Gideon got his mobile phone and a notebook, set up to take notes at his vanity, took a deep breath, let it out, and dialed the number. As the phone rang, he looked at himself in the mirror and muttered, "Heaven help me if I'm facilitating the start of Armageddon."

Then someone picked up, and he held the phone up to his ear. "Hello? Oh, right, er—" He read off the paper Bill had given him, "'But rises gold over the pyramid.' ... Yes. Mhm, I'm calling on behalf of... of Bill Cipher. ... My name's not important, I'm just the messenger—oh, oh you recognize my voice! Haha!" He mopped his forehead with the back of his sleeve. "A-always nice to meet a fan! Yeah, we know each other. Small world. N... no, he didn't give me my... I was—was psychic before I met him, actually. Sorry, I didn't catch your name—who'm I speaking to?"

Gideon looked at Bill's list of questions, wrote a 1. in his notebook, and beside it wrote "Sue Blime." One question down. "I have a message to pass on."

####

He pushed harder.

Her skin fractured and peeled off, strand after strand. It filled the spaces between his fingertips, wrapped up his arms. He could shut his eye but he still saw it through his eyelid, still felt it tickling at the corners of his mouth. He let out an angry, hysterical, broken laugh.

And then he laughed louder, and louder—higher, shriller, echoing all the way to the distant stars. "What am I doing?" He opened his eye and looked at his hands, tangled with gold threads and soaked in blood. He laughed again, gleeful. "What am I doing! None of this is real! This is a dream! We're in my dreamscape. None of this matters! I control all of you!"

Bill controlled all of them.

He effortlessly peeled his arm off the plane of his dimension into the third, still tangled in gore, and spun his finger. The golden shreds of skin let go of his hand, rotating around his hand in a loose tornado. Cackling again, he rose up into space, looping like a paper airplane on a breeze, telekinetically twirling the countless golden shreds with him like he was doing a ribbon dance. And wasn't it beautiful? He was changing their color—yellow green blue violet red orange yellow—he was melting them down to floating drops of liquid gold, he was making them vanish into thin air. There was no blood on his hands. There never had been. He had never killed. His mother did not exist.

He glanced toward the stars. "Am I gonna have any meddling from you? Want to sell me any cars tonight?"

The stars didn't answer. Good. He didn't want his show interrupted by a commercial break.

"I control you," Bill announced to the crowd of assembled worshipers below, numb and thoughtless and unmoving while the god of this dream had no use for them to live. "You answer to me!" He jabbed his thumb against his golden face—not the internal organs exposed to the third dimension the rest of the shapes had, but the exoskeleton he wouldn't start wearing until centuries after this memory. "The only life you have is in my head! All of you, all of you have been burned away for a trillion years!" He paused, then flashed two finger guns at a red hexagon in the crowd. "All except you, Hect. Always great to see a long-time fan!"

In the field of frozen shapes, Bill's memory of Hectorgon hesitantly waved.

"But..." Beneath Bill, still as aghast as he'd been so many eons ago, still playing his part to move this dream along, his father said, "But... what are we going to tell your followers?"

"Ugh, you're such a downer. Give it a rest, you old square!" Bill did something no prisoner of the second dimension had ever been capable of doing: he snapped his fingers. His father silently dissolved into origami butterflies and fluttered into space. "You barely even liked her."

He floated back down to the plane, lacing his fingers together to stretch his arms in front of him. "I don't need you," he muttered. "I've got this handled. I've always been the one who had this handled. Now let's end this dream the right way."

Time to sucker his suckers.

He swooped through the open doors to speak to his assembled worshipers as effortlessly as though he'd been doing this a trillion years: "My beautiful, loving believers! I have wonderful news. Your high priestess—my mother—has passed on; but, you should be celebrating! Because she hasn't abandoned us! Her spirit's just ascended—not up, but out of our dimension and into the third, where the spirits of all departed shapes live on! Her spirit's formed a bridge from there to me, and through me to you! She's revealed the true nature of the third dimension—a sublime realm of color and life—and I'll reveal it to you, too!"

The black starry void of the third dimension above Bill mutated as he spoke; now, it was raucous colors, beams of light, and glittery gold. Faraway neon-colored shapes danced deliriously through nebulas and clouds.

"I'll teach you the secrets passed down to us from the enlightened third-dimensional spirits; I'll show you how to see it all for yourself... and if you follow me, if you devote yourself entirely to my teachings, if you trust me blindly—blindly, for I can see what others can't—then I'll guide you INTO the third dimension! I will be your teacher, your divine guide, your muse! So tell me: do you trust me?"

The worshipers cheered.

"Do you worship me?!"

The worshipers screamed.

"Do you love me!"

The worshipers howled, mad with love for Bill, ripping each other apart in a spontaneous outpouring of zealotry.

Bill's shrieking laughter rose up above the roar of his imaginary crowd.

####

For the first time since his death, Bill woke fully rested. Dawn streamed in through the attic window, shining golden on the cloud of curly hair dangling in front of his eyes. And wasn't it beautiful? He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothed it back, and pushed it into the right shape.

He checked to make sure no humans were coming for a while, slid Journal 4 out of its hiding place, and flipped to the page where he'd stuck his "Good Job!" sticker. He'd used his stolen half-dried marker to blacken the sides of the yellow smiley face, turning it from a circle into a triangle, draining the last of its ink in the process. He wasted four pages with every detail he could recollect from this dream, going on and on about how easy it had been to assert his rightful control, how effortless to control time and space. If he ever found the human who wrote that lucid dreaming guide, he was giving 'em a planet.

At the end, he wrote in English, "You'll regret turning me down as your teacher, Stanford. You can't even imagine how many people would have committed murder to get that kind of attention. But I gave it to you."

He tried to remember how that sermon had really gone.

What did he need to remember the truth for? It must have gone something like that. He wouldn't still be here if it hadn't, would he?

####

(Thanks for reading! If you enjoyed, I'd appreciate a comment!! Next week we kick off with more of Bill's history—and then start ramping up for the biggest, longest plot arc so far.)

#bill cipher #(for the art) #human bill cipher #gideon gleeful #(for the chapter) #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #(I'm disappointed i didn't get to draw Bill menacing Gideon; but i only had time for one illustration and i picked Lots Of Colors.) #(plus it's nice every once in a while to get a reminder of what Bill actually looks like)

[eldragon-x]

Okay let's talk about how actually Bill is attached to Ford and genuinely sees him as a friend and maybe even likes him more than literally anyone else which was originally going to mainly revolve around Weirdmageddon, however I absolutely needed to add creator commentary and extra-canon in order to dig into Bill's mentality.

First, I'd like to point out this comment by Hirsch from the Sock Opera DVD commentary about how Bill views Mabel:

“Bill genuinely believes that Mabel’s kinda like him. He sees Mabel as a chaos agent. Like, Mabel has got a little bit of a seed of anarchy in her, she’s a little bit selfish, she likes to have fun at whatever cost. And Bill is all those things times a billion. So he thinks when he lays it all out for her like: ‘How about instead of being lame, you do something fun! And crush whoever you want in the process!’. He thinks that’s gonna go over. And he’s not wrong in seeing that side in Mabel but Mabel is a better person than Bill Cipher.”

as well as this bit from "Dipper's and Mabel's Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun" written by Bill:

Both which pretty much confirm that Bill likes Mabel and assumes they're alike based on a couple similarities, which adds up when you look at how he treats and interacts with Mabel in the show but let's not derail.

The point I'm trying to make here is that if Bill can get attached and relate to a twelve year old he's known for half a summer, it's pretty easy to imagine he probably feels similarly about a guy he's known for thirty years and is the character who by far has the strongest connection to Bill.

Of course for Bill to relate to Ford there has to be some similarity in the first place. And there are! You could compare Ford's willingness to build an interdimensional portal to gain knowledge and admiration to Bill's desire to reach beyond his own two-dimensional world and eventual attain of knowledge and power.

Of course, Ford isn't the first person to attempt to build a portal for Bill. But the similarities run deeper than that.

So you know how Ford's been ostracized for all his life and leaned into trying to be outstanding and special which was encouraged and made worse by Bill?

Because Bill namedrops the author of Flatland in the Bill Cipher AMA when asked about his birth dimension.

and on top of that, in Journal 3 Ford describes a dimension called Exwhylia which references Flatland and suggests Bill could have come from a similar dimension.

To keep it short for those unfamiliar, Flatland is a book about a place of that same name and describes it as a plane where three-dimensionality is incomprehensible, only the heads of society are allowed to know about other dimensions, the social system depends on a strict hierarchy, everything that risks deviating from the norm is shut down, may be worth mentioning here that triangles are near the bottom of the hierarchy too.

Yeah I don't think I need to really explain that Bill would absolutely hate it here and it's really jarring how much this place clashes with him.

Anyway do you see where I'm going with this? Bill probably being shunned by his world and Ford's whole deal?

About the leaning into being special thing, Flatland people are really just. people but shapes. So to me it implies Bill didn't always have his powers (on top of him literally saying "I wasn't always this way" in Weird 3 while talking about his newly gained powers and before talking about his old dimension). Can you imagine how much gaining those brought out the worst in him? I think he was already self-centered before but now he has more reason to see himself above others.

Now obviously, Bill just claimed Ford was special and called him his friend as a manipulation tactic, but it's significant to remember that we're talking about the guy who said this:

and is pretty much confirmed to apply this mindset to himself:

I think that while yes, Ford and Bill's friendship started out as nothing but manipulation on Bill's part, he really grew attached to the guy based on what they had in common.

Unfortunately, Bill does the same mistake with Ford as he does with Mabel and assumed he's more like him than he really is. I mean,

Bill wrote this into the Journal during Ford's paranoid era. And I don't think he's just rambling because he says "don't you understand" and "I ask you" which very much sounds like he's trying to be convincing.

Anyway, yeah I think this scene from Weirdmageddon 1 was really another genuine offer, rather than just plain and simply Bill mocking Ford.

Also Weirdmageddon 2 pretty much proves to me that Bill does see Ford as special. Just look at how he's always carrying golden Ford around in contrast to all the stone-turned townsfolk being built into his throne. Literally special treatment! In a bad messed up way.

Also a big fan of this episode showing that Bill does not care about the well-being of his so-called friends (which is even more outright in the uncut storyboard version of this scene)

really cementing the fact that not only does Bill see himself above mortals, but above everyone and really the only apparent reason they are friends is because they support Bill and he thinks they're fun.

So yeah it is absolutely possible for Bill to regard Ford on a similar level as them, maybe even above them. Finally, let's talk about the penthouse scene because I have a lot of feelings about that one.

-

After attempting to charm Ford, Bill's first move in trying to negotiate is talking about his old dimension and how restricting and narrow-minded it was. Already brought this scene up earlier but honestly the fact that he just drops that on Ford is wild to me.

Like, this is the same guy who, according to the Axolotl, yearns for his old dimension but denies to himself that he deeply regrets destroying it. Bill hates showing vulnerability. He hates even acknowledging it. He only cares for vulnerability if it comes from other people for him to exploit!

So him telling Ford that his dimension was awful and he was genuinely miserable there is huge. Not just him telling Ford that, but also just the expression? The tone? This is the most sincere Bill has ever been throughout the show and possibly the most sincere he's been in decades, centuries, millennia, God knows. Even if it's still filtered through a lie he's been telling himself for most of his life.

And yeah obviously, Bill was desperate and needed Ford to help him at this point but I think it would've been "easier" for Bill to just. Maybe try and solve the barrier problem himself. Ford figured it out, so surely Bill can at least try instead of, Idk, laying his heart out to the person who has dedicated his life to killing him.

I think Bill tried to make Ford relate to him in this scene for the sake of getting him to join but also maybe, just maybe, Bill craved connection? Dude's a lot more sentimental than he seems and lets on and spending an eternity only befriending people who you'll put below yourself after killing everyone you've ever known has got to get lonely.

Not that I think Bill truly saw ford as an equal, Absolutely Not, but I think Bill saw in Ford someone who could understand him. Someone who, at least for a short time, just simply enjoyed and appreciated his company as a friend. Maybe even a more naive version of Bill himself who hasn't yet realized what's good for him, which is really ironic because Ford is the one ended up stirring his life into a positive direction where he can be truly happy again, while Bill revels in his own misery.

Well. So much about this eleven second long scene I think about way too hard 👍

Bill then goes into his whole tangent about just trying to free the dimension of restrictions and making it into a fun and better world which is reflected in the Journal 3 messages from earlier and ends up on this:

Because this is what Bill believes to be Ford's ideal. He wants knowledge and admiration? Why here you go! Surely there's no reason Ford wouldn't agree to helping Bill now, right?? He's offering him everything he could ever want! He'd be part of his group! Everyone gets what they want!

And again, yeah Bill could've just made things up and immediately tossed Ford to the side as soon as he would've given him the equation to break the barrier, but that little scene where he talks to Ford about his old home dimension just. Really drives it home for me that he does in some way truly sees Ford as his friend. Y'know, on top of literally everything else I talked about here.

-

EDIT: Like the fool I am, I forgot to bring up a point about Bill keeping Ford alive during Weirdmageddon despite Ford posing a huge threat to him which is odd but uuh just read this, it pretty much covers it.

#oops its just another post about how the triangle has issues #gf #bill tag #ford tag #do i put this in the tags. sure why not #gravity falls #bill cipher

[daydreamtoropova]

Gravity Falls Rant

Uhm... Couldn't Bill just?..

(Season 2 Episode 20)

The metal plate isn't even in his head in this scene. Bill could just go into Ford's mind. Bill has the power to do so, why doesn't he just do it? It's literally shown right here. Bill could've just taken out the metal plate pretty easily, it's just metal. And the whole "let me enter your mind so I can figure out how to break the weirdness barrier of this town" thing is just negated because of this.

Also isn't Bill all-knowing? I'm off-topic here for what we're going to talk about. But if Bill is supposedly all-knowing, won't he know how to break the weirdness barrier of this town already? Wouldn't he know what would happen at the end of summer, the whole "Bill being erased" thing and plan? And when Stan let him into his mind, wouldn't Bill know it was Stan? The finger number difference thing... But I guess his quote is, "I know LOTS of things." Not, "I know EVERYTHING." ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also... What is this half-assed job?

(Journal 3)

Bill could still possibly get in his brain considering ALL the free space that isn't covered.

Also a single metal plate? THAT's all it takes to stop Bill (the all-powerful, Dream Demon, being of pure energy, or whatever else is going on) from entering your mind? Not even covering your full skull?

Unbelievable.

Okay, okay. I guess you could make the point that it has some sort of magical ability. Maybe... That doesn't seem to be mentioned, so it's just a metal plate? But wouldn't it be more useful and safe to install a unicorn hair forcefield in your head to prevent Bill from entering your mind then? They couldn't just find a dimension out of the TRILLIONS that are out there that have unicorns? Really? In Journal 3, Ford says he visited an alternate dimension where the only difference is that the Journals got hidden correctly. A clear example of a dimension with UNICORNS IN IT. And in canon, it says that the unicorns are like... uncooperative? In that case, why not just find a dimension where the unicorns are willing to give up their hair for the good of the world?

It would've been safer considering it's just hair. You would only just need to cut into your head, down to your skull, and put it AROUND. Not actually cutting out a piece of the skull and replacing it with metal (or even at least covering it). I mean it's said that he went under a dangerous operation to get that installed... I just think that you would have to cut around the head and then put it in, then it'll heal over. Or like just put it around the neck to just have this astronaut helmet of unicorn hair magic (like the Mystery Shack with the forcefield didn't seem to have a problem with air... The characters managed to pass through it fine)? I bet both of those options would've been much safer... And wouldn't it be much more reliable? Like the magic of the hair will cover your head up more. Also the fact that it's magical unicorn hair vs. a simple metal plate. What do you think is the clear answer? Like something magical versus something completely physical and Bill is known to break the Law of Conservation of Matter by creating and destroying it. Also if it's known that unicorn hair stops Bill's powers, why doesn't Ford (at the time willing to do anything to stop Bill Cipher) just cover himself with unicorn hair? Like I said, the whole scene where Bill Cipher just turns Ford to gold just pretty much wouldn't even happen. He wouldn't be able to turn him into gold (or use any magic on him or even touch him at that point). Like that giant hamster ball Mabel wanted in Season 1 Episode 2 but with unicorn hair magic.

But let's focus our attention on something a little different rather than this unicorn hair vs. metal plate rant though it is very fun. Let's consider what could've happened if the whole metal plate storyline was still in place (let's say the unicorns are not willing to give up their hair, or there were none they could find, or for some other arbitrary reason). What could we change to make it better? To make it more plausible and more precise? How can we still progress the story to still make sense?

Taking out the reality/logical aspect of it, what about the story one?

Like what could the people scripting this do? Like just saying, for example, this food sucks. Like what can you do to change it? Change out the salt for sugar. What I mean to say is: what to do to make this story better. A critique. And all you need to do? Change out some scenes and dialogue in the last episode. Not say, "Oh my Axolotl, the story doesn't make sense from the start, we gotta twist and bend what was already established." But it is just, "Oh, let's change some scenes in the scripted episode." And I bet that the watch time (because that is also important in shows) would stay about the same.

In the established story, a much more plausible thing to happen is this:

The fact is, Ford and Bill made a deal a long time ago revolving around the fact that Bill can use Ford's body. 

BUT, here's something important to consider. 

(Season 2 Episode 15)

And when the part where Bill tries to enter Ford's mind comes up... This is the scenario that could have happened and would've made much more sense. 

-----

Ford mentions to Bill, "You know I have a metal plate installed in my mind, right?" Bill counteracts, "Oh, that? Took that out a long time ago." 

-----

And THEN the reason Bill can't enter Ford's mind anymore is NOT because of a simple metal plate, it's THIS.

(Season 2 Episode 18)

This line changes everything. Since time is dead, the deal has no effect because the rule of the deal was that it was, "Until the end of time." And so since the deal isn't active, Bill has no right or power to enter Ford's mind. And the dialogue and story would connect really well here too.

A bit of a tangent, but, meaning has no meaning. The meaning of a deal is to promise something. But since meaning has no meaning... The point of a promise has the meaning of being a mutual agreement... Henceforth a deal has no meaning. And so deals don't promise anything anymore. Won't all deals made after this not have no point at all? Bill Cipher, I just wanna say if you wanna break all rules, you know the literal thing of a deal is that it's a mutual rule. The thing you're most known for contradicts your ideology. I might be overthinking this, but since when did a Gravity Falls fan have not?

Anyway...

-----

Ford explains, "Our deal was that you couldn't enter my mind until the end of time. Time is dead. So the deal is NO MORE!"

-----

After that, the same storyline takes place where Bill needs to make a deal with Ford to enter his mind (but like remake the deal instead of just making a completely new one). Then instead, Stan takes his place, and Bill gets erased. See? Just change out some scenes (watch-time works, and I bet it could have been even shorter than the original (AND WE PROBABLY COULD HAVE GOTTEN THE VILLAIN SONG OF BILL CIPHER)), it's still in the original character and doesn't strive from canon, and like... Seriously.

But with all this happening, I couldn't help but wonder... Why didn't the writers just adjust the story a little? All that was needed was to change some things in the last episode. They had plenty of time to do this. The watch time would barely change. I know that making cartoons and stories is hard (I tried making some myself, never worked out), but still all I'm saying...

The story would've made more sense.

Oh my Axolotl, this was supposed to be a short rant but I can't believe I made it this long. It was just supposed to be, "Why didn't Bill just enter Ford's mind? It's easy." And it turned into this whole thing. I just haven't seen this being talked about anywhere else. I guess people just take it for what it is, or I'm just stupid and don't understand the absolute awesomeness of this plot. I just couldn't stop thinking about that scene from the last episode where Bill tears Ford in half and I just thought about it too hard like "?????"

But all in all, I'm not hating on the show. I still love it and it's still my #1. Nothing is perfect, but Gravity Falls comes very close to it. And that's still a lot. Most shows from the 2010s don't even have such a strong fanbase going on after all these years. What this show did was a lot, and Alex Hirsch is still awesome for everything he did with it. I'm here ranting about this because I just think it's fun.  

Remember: Reality is an illusion. The universe is a hologram.

BUY GOLD BYE!

#gravity falls #bill cipher #stanford pines #gravity falls rant #ford pines #rant post

[princess-schez]

Fic: Sweet Dreams, Beautiful Nightmare - Chapter 10

Warnings: Some language. Just Bill being Bill. Genre: Bill Cipher/Reader fanfic Summary: The Reader has been plagued by violent nightmares for as long as she can remember. Deciding to move to Oregon for a simpler pace of life, it is there she meets the dream demon himself and begins to unravel a mystery connecting them both. Notes: Bill is such a little perv, but we love him so...

Chapter 10.

You heard the front door opening downstairs, and you hurried out of the tub, drying yourself off and throwing on your clothes as quickly as possible. You had no idea how long you were out for. Everything felt like a blur. Time had slipped past, and you weren’t sure if it was day or night. You sat down on your bed, taking a deep breath. There was something about this town and the ability it gave you to have some of the most vivid dreams ever.

“If you can call them that,” a voice said.

Startled, you looked around to see who was talking to you when a now-familiar yellow triangle appeared out of nowhere. “What?” you asked, feeling like the universe was playing a joke on you and this was just the start of a horrible punchline at your expense. The triangle smiled, or at least that’s what you thought it did, given you had few facial features to work with.

“Are—are you gonna kill me or something?”

The triangle—Bill—actually seemed somewhat surprised at your statement. His eyebrow lifted as though taken aback. “I may be a demon, but I would never harm a hair on your beautiful head.” He bent in an almost bow, reaching for your hand to kiss it.

You swallowed hard, unsure whether to believe him or not. “What do you want?” you asked, pulling your hand away.

“To see you, my love.”

You blinked, surprised by his antics again. “So... how do you know me, exactly?” you asked.

“You still don’t know?” He seemed almost disappointed. Saddened. 

“You already said that to me before!” You didn’t mean to be so cross, but if this was a joke at your expense, then you missed the punchline. And you were getting tired of it.

“Maybe if I showed myself in the van?”

Your heart stopped as an icy chill ran down your spine. “That—that was you?” Your voice began to rise as panic and another emotion you weren’t sure of began to fill you. An invisible triangular demon groped and edged you in a van. If it weren’t for the fact that it felt so strangely good, you would have almost been completely disgusted.

“Or maybe in the bathroom? That show you put on was brilliant. Beautiful. The moans you made—” He gave a chef’s kiss before he wriggled his eyebrow and made an obscene gesture with his hand as though pumping himself.

You stopped, locked eyes with it as his words registered in your head, and your voice rose with each word until you practically yelled. “You fucking, perverted, little freak—”

You hadn’t realized how loud you had gotten or that Ford threw the bedroom door open, with Stan and the twins behind him looking bewildered. 

“What on earth? Are you okay?” Ford asked, eyes wide as he took in the sight before him. Bill was hovering close, maybe a little too close to you, his tiny hands raised placatingly. 

“Whoa, no need for the cavalry,” he laughed, snapping a finger as the door shut again. “We’ll need a little privacy if you don’t mind.”

“No,” you said, stomping your foot like a petulant child. “You’re going to tell me what the fuck is going on. Right. Now.”

You could hear Ford on the other side of the door, telling the others to start touching up the Bill-proofing of the Shack as Bill rolled his eye. He seemed unfazed as he sat next to you on the bed.

“Maybe I went about this the wrong way,” he said thoughtfully, with no hint of emotion in his voice.

“You think?” you replied, eyebrows raised. “It’s not every day someone gets felt up by a geometry problem.”

It was Bill’s turn to shoot you a look. You returned an equally blank expression to him as the demon sighed. “I was hoping you’d remember. You’ll have to forgive my wandering hands; I haven’t seen you in a very long time, and a demon has needs, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” you sighed. You couldn’t help but notice that his very being seemed to light up every time he spoke. It was almost... cute. In a strange way. “But you seem to know me, so why don’t I know you?”

Bill sighed. “It would be easier to show you than to explain it.”

“So show me then.”

“It’s—not that easy. The quickest way for me to show you, I—I have to do something I swore I would never do to you.”

“What’s that?”

“Possess you.”

You watched the tiny being beside you, eyebrow furrowed as though the thought caused him turmoil.

“Possess me?”

“Take over your body to liberate your memories, if you will. But for me to do that, you have to make a deal with me.”

“A deal?”

“Yes, a deal. Red tape, it’ll drive you nuts, believe me. So whaddya say you let me get reacquainted with that bod—uh, mind of yours, huh?”

You opened your mouth to reply but stopped and listened, the unmistakable sound of a drill whirling to life. Ford and Stan were preparing to dismantle the door to get inside. The demon looked up at you, all cockiness aside, and you could have sworn his eye was almost pleading with you. 

“We don’t have much time. If you want to learn what exactly is going on, you’ll have to trust me.” Bill floated in front of you, hand extended. Bright blue flame engulfed it, and you looked at it warily. 

“It won’t cost me my soul, will it?” you asked with some trepidation. “And you’ll leave my body afterward?”

“No, it won’t cost you your soul,” Bill said softly, as though he were talking to a lover. “I just need permission to enter your mind. That’s it. I’ll leave right afterward.”

You could hear the sounds of a drill making contact with the screws holding it in place. It wouldn’t be much longer before they would be in here, and you didn’t know what would happen afterward. Especially to Bill. Biting your lip, you mulled it over. You wanted to discover why and how you were connected to this, with the bizarre dreams and all that. If Bill had the answers, could it really be all that bad to make a deal with him? 

Bill looked anxious as the voice of Stan and Ford grew louder. You had maybe seconds left…

“Okay!” you said, taking his hand as the flames engulfed yours. Right then and there, the bedroom door tilted to the side, enough for Ford and Stan to fit through as Bill laughed.

“Too late, suckers!”

You felt a painful burst in your head as Bill took over your body while his turned to stone and fell to the ground in front of you with a loud thump. At that moment, the two men rushed over. Their looks of complete horror were the last thing you saw before you passed out on the bed. _______ Chapter 9 / Chapter 11 AO3 / Wattpad

#bill cipher x reader #bill cipher #gravity falls #fanfic #fan fic #my fanfic #my writing

[asterkiss]

Prompt: “i thought you went to bed an hour ago”

Maybe some fluff? 🙇‍♀️

This took on a life of its own and I'm gonna have to do a second addition to actually get to the fluff. (>___>) Random AU in the future where Bill has somehow become Mabel's dysfunctional demon room mate who she keeps in check. Why? How? No idea!

-SWEET DREAMS

Mabel was sat in the kitchen, hunched over the table with tongue poking out in avid concentration. She just had to add two hundred more rhinestones to this shirt and it would be finished!

Easy.

She was so raptured in her crafts, she didn't even notice the figure entering through the door until they spoke.

'What the heck is that?'

The brunette paused, raising her head to find Bill staring down at the shirt with a look of distaste. Undeterred by his response, she replied:

'My shirt for Dipper's party tomorrow! Wanna help?'

'Pass.'

Yeah, she doubted he would. 'Okay, well if you're not gonna help then why are you even here? I thought you went to bed an hour ago.' She hadn't seen him around the flat since he left to go watch some weird television show.

Bill snorted as he slid into the seat opposite her. 'I don't sleep, I'm a dream demon. I invade the minds of others whilst they're asleep, that's it.'

Mabel paused. 'You don't sleep? Ever?'

'Don't need to, demon privelege.'

Mabel had forgotten about her bedazzling and was now offering the blond her full attention. 'But sleeping's so fun, and dreaming's like the best part of it! Just last night I had a dream where Zac Efron was my chauffeur to school. That was so fun. Oh Zac, you scallywag.'

'Sleeping's stupid! You basically waste eight hours of your day laying unconscious and being completely vulnerable and easy pickings.' A shrug. 'Guess I shouldn't complain, makes it easy for me to manipulate you guys.'

Mabel's eyes narrowed. 'Hey.'

'I mean, it made it easy. Obviously past tense. Don't do that anymore. Scouts honour.'

She rolled her eyes at his less than believable response and the cheesy grin plastered on his face.

'But I stand by what I said, sleeping's dumb and boring.'

Mabel pursed her lips together. 'You wouldn't say that if you had someone to sleep with.'

Bill shot her a look and she quickly added:

'Not like that! I mean literally just sleeping next to someone in the same bed, you weirdo! Even just a pet!'

Bill blinked. 'What difference does that make?'

'Well, you get cuddles and can stay warm on cold nights. Plus, it feels nice and comforting and if you have a nightmare, you can just roll over and hug Waddles- or, uh, the other person.'

'Hm. Don't see the appeal.'

'Urgh, forget it.' It was like talking to a brick wall. He'd totally ruined her motivation for bedazzling as well.

She called it a night and went to sleep in her double bed surrounded by twenty stuffed animals.

>

It was three hours later in the middle of the night that she awoke to a hand on her shoulder.

She groggily opened her eyes to the sight of a pale face inches from her own. On instict she slammed her fist forward only to have it halted with impressive speed. There were very few who could stop an attack from her. Such as:

'Wait, Bill?'

'Sup.'

Her eyebrows furrowed and she sought out the clock in her room. 'Urgh, it's like 3am. Why are you in my room?'

'Let's sleep together.'

'...eh?'

He smirked. 'Not like that you sick pervert.'

'I'm not-!'

'I figured I'd give what you said a try, and since you're the only one around what d'ya say?'

'Uh...' An attractive guy was asking to share her bed. Granted, it was Bill Cipher though that only made the request even more bizarre.

He quirked an eyebrow. 'Cm'on, I don't bite.' A pause. 'Much.'

'Okay, fine!' She just wanted to go back to sleep. Although that prospect was seeming less and less likely the more her heart rate picked up.

She felt the covers shift as he shoved off her stuffed unicorns and slid in. 'Jesus Christ, how many stuffed animals do you have?'

'Never enough and- hey, don't touch me with your weird cold feet!'

'Aw cm'on share the warmth, Shooting Star. I'm freezing.'

'I thought you said you did't feel the cold!'

'I feel it, it just doesn't bother me.'

'Then keep the ice blocks at the end of your legs away from me, you dorito!' She already regretted this as she turned her back towards him and curled in on herself. 'Either that or get out and go back to your own room.'

'Okay, okay, I'll behave.' She felt him settle behind her, though she was still on high alert. But as the minutes ticked by and he remained quiet, she began to ease up, gradually unfurling her body.

But it was still impossible to sleep!

'Why did you change your mind?' she asked, cutting through the piercing silence.

'I change my mind a lot, I'm funny like that.'

She glanced back over shoulder, narrowing her eyes. 'If you try to pull something, I'll punch you in the eye.'

'Jeez louise, relax.'

'Then be honest and stop lying! Why did you really come in here?'

She could feel him scowling at her through the darkness. 'Tried the whole sleeping thing, and it was awful. Lotsa screaming and nuisances I'd rather forget about. Was a big pain in the ass.'

She blinked. So, he'd had a nightmare?

'So that's why I came here,' he said cheerfully. 'You said sleeping together helps you forget that weird stuff so here I am. And guess what, you were right. You make quite the good distraction when you keep wriggling around like a worm cut in two.'

'Wha- gross!' Did she wiggle that much? 'And you should try sleeping again, maybe you'll have a nice dream.'

'Shooting Star, it's cute and naive you think like that but I'm literally made of nightmares. I don't have any good dreams in me.'

'That's sad.'

'It's true!' A pause. 'I mean I guess there's-' He cut off abruptly and she arched an eyebrow at his sudden silence. She could make out his profile in the darkness but that was it. She rolled over so she was completely facing him.

'There's what?' she asked, prodding him to speak.

'....Nothin', forget it. Demons and good dreams don't mix. It would never work out.'

She frowned. 'You just need to learn how to have nice dreams, it's like learning anything new. If you want, you can watch me for practice. I can be like your fun teacher.'

'What?'

She poked him. 'I'm cordially inviting you to pop into my dreams tonight. I'll show you how exciting it can be.'

'What happened to you punching my lights out if I invaded your dreams?' He still had a bruise from last time.

'Tonight's a one-off. And you better behave! No turning ribbons into human inestines, that still makes me wanna hurl.'

'Oh yeah I forgot about that, heh.'

'So?'

He turned over so they were facing one another in the bed, and she became acutely aware of how close in proximity they were. It was fine. It was just platonic. Totally platonic. So what if she could feel his breath hitting her skin?

'Alright, deal,' he said, voice quiet and the way he said it made her heart tug slightly. Haha, weird. A warm hand covered her eyes and she swallowed thickly.

'Sweet dreams, Shooting Star.'

She fell asleep, and the real fun began.

TO BE CONTINUED

#drabble

[theautismgoblin]

Okay more rant time, so I've noticed the ASD community has again decided to grab something by the Figurative strings for dear life (The Amazing Digital Circus) which has happened quite a few times in the last two years, with it happening a total of like four times at this point in that timespan. Anywho, I think I know why, it's something I've been running through my head for a few weeks. So I think I'll explain, it's the isolation and confinement factor. What do I mean, let's take a look at all the fandoms I'm talking about

First is The Amazing Digital Circus, where the characters are all effectively isolated from the outside world, and trapped there.

Next, is Welcome Home. Now this one is depending on the theory people have, since it affects how you view the main character, Wally Darling. If you believe the isolation theory (where Wally is trapped and alone inside Home, and is using the restoration project to try to escape). But the same concept exists, trapped and isolated and alone .

Third, is DHMIS I don't even need to explain this one. But I will, all three puppets are trapped inside the house, and each of them is also isolated from others, only having each other to rely on.

Finally The Stanley Parable, once again, Stanley and The Narrator are literally trapped in the Parable. They are isolated from anyone other than each other, with them sometimes isolating themselves completely (like the not real ending, or the escape ending, the skip button ending, just all of it)

Now what does this have to do with autism, wellllll, a lot actually. Now this is just from my own experiences so it doesn't fit every one, but I know that it applies to plenty of autistic folks, but many folks with ASD have been isolated from our peers throughout our lives, even if we could mask really well. We were picked on, when we ranted or talked, we immediately got weird looks. So many of us got ostracized from social groups, hell sometimes we isolated ourselves by hiding in our rooms or closets to get away from others. And then the trapped factor. This is another one, many of us have felt trapped in our own lives (yes it sucks). We had to play pretend with everyone, just to not get isolated and even that didn't work (but the kicker, was it was hard to stop masking). Many of us got forced to sit still, the touch or eat things that hurt, to drain our social batteries for gatherings. And when you're a kid, which is where most of the trauma comes in, you got little to no say in what you and your family did. I know on multiple occasions I was forced to go to festivals I didn't want to go to, and was exhausted when I got home (yet still expected to clean afterwards sometimes, depended on the day though)..

Anyways, this sore of sympathy and empathy I think extended very specifically to characters even more than where their from. In most of these case the main premise has the idea already there (with the exception of Welcome Home, though their puppets so that absolutely plays a factor), but there are plenty of characters who are isolated or trapped in their respective media, like The lonely Wizard, Goobert, P03 (look I have seen multiple people call P03 out, and you can't tell me you don't love Goobert or Lonely Wizard). Chara and W.D. Gaster was another one, Gaster makes sense, and Chara is only heard by one person (the player) so yeah isolation. You also have Suns and Moon again they are stuck in the daycare (Moon's iffy, but Sun's definitely there). Bill Cipher was another one, I think not sure about him (could just be my bias)

And the best part, the majority of these characters are also viewed as having ASD or ADHD, which those two things go together too well, which adds to the empathy even more. But I do want to point out that what I just stated isn't a requirement at all, but it does help.

#the amazing digital circus #tdac #welcome home #dhmis #tsp #dont hug me im scared #the stanley parable #the stanley parable narrator #autism #fnaf #analysis #wally darling #isolation #trapped

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

That Blood of Yours

Ao3

Fandom: Gravity Falls

Chapter: 1/?

Word Count: 1,533

Summary: There is nothing about this he understood. But here Stan was, with his twin brother in his creepy house who had nothing better to do than to summon a demon. Said demon wants to rule the world and is also a huge jerk. Luckily, this time Stan calls for help. Family is the most important thing in life, they say. If that doesn't backfire. Oh well, then the Pines' siblings have a lot to recover from, what about it?

Or: Ford doesn't go through the portal, instead he is possessed by Bill. Stan doesn't like what his twin has been up to at all and calls Shermie. Turns out: The Pines' boys all have struggles they weren't aware of. Bill Cipher is not helping.

Chapter 1: The House in the Woods

There is nothing about this he understood.

Here he is, with his twin brother, whom he hadn't seen for 10 years, mind you, in his basement. The creepy house in the middle of the woods of a town which isn't even on a map gave off enough "mad scientist vibes" already. Then said twin brother talked about a hole in their dimension, whatever that is supposed to mean.

It didn't even matter anyway. Not right now. What could he say? Things had gone… a little too out of hand; they got angry and now they are both in a fist fight as if they were teenagers.

"You don't care about your family! You only care about your dumb mysteries!", Stan shouted, followed by a left hook.

Ford fell. He didn't stand up.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no. It couldn't have been that bad, right? He didn't want to knock him out! Stan knelt beside his brother, checking his pulse and looking for injuries. His own shoulder stung like hell, but Ford had priority right now. Even if he would never be forgiven.

Just when he wanted to pick up Ford's head to examine it, Ford began to shift and sat up.

"Sweet Moses, you're fine! I am so sorry, Ford!"

Ford turned his head so he could look at him. Stan jumped back. Panic and confusion rolled over him.

Ford's eyes were yellow. The grin he pulled was unsettling and inhuman. The whole atmosphere suddenly changed and the cold basement in the winter now felt like an ice chamber.

Ford started talking. "Oh, but Stanley! You have nothing to apologize for! You just helped me start my most incredible invention! We'll be famous, you and I!"

This wasn't his brother. He grew up with a pathological liar for a mother, he himself was a conman. Stan knew when someone made false statements.

"Who or what are you?", he asked with strong determination, preparing himself for a fight. This town was weirder than he thought.

That thing turned away from him, now facing the blue-glowing portal. The smile was still there. "You'll soon find out". Making eye contact with Stan again, he added, "But early introductions can't hurt. This dimension doesn't have much time left anyway. But don't worry, you'll be in the V. I. P. lounge right next to your lovely brother!"

Okay, something wants to take over their "dimension" and said something looks like Ford. In what weird sci-fi movie did he end up in.

The creature looked at him and offered its hand. Stan had to admit, these eyes were creepier than his darkest nightmares.

"Hi, name's Bill Cipher!", it greeted, limping towards Stan. Without thinking he crept backwards to the control panel.

"You don't need to be afraid of me. Your brother and I are friends! But I see you are much smarter than IQ here!", it laughed and it gave Stan the chills, reminding him of the horror films they used to watch.

Finally reaching the control room, he looked around real quick. There weren't any loose, heavy things except the chair. That will have to do.

"What did you do with Ford!", he yelled.

Deep breath. If it was Ford's body and not a clone or something alike then… a concussion is still better than being possessed, Stanley reasoned. The thing came closer and closer.

"Sixer made a deal with me! He helped me build this thing! My entrance to the party! I am just waiting until it's stable!"

The chair swung against its head and the body fell to the ground, unmoving.

He didn't feel as guilty as the first time when he knocked out his brother. The second time this day he kneeled beside him to check his pulse, much more hesitant.

Slowly he took one hand, pressing two fingers on the wrist. It's there. Faster than it probably should be, but it's there. That is all that matters.

Now the next question is: what to do next.

He didn't think this plan through.

The portal was glowing and a timer was ticking. But he had to secure his brother or his clone as well. Looking at the counter told him he still had several hours left, so securing Ford could go first. He really didn't want to meet this Bill again.

Best thing is to bring some distance between Bill and the portal. He picked his brother up and carried him towards the elevator. What the heck, Ford. Who has an elevator in their basement.

When the elevator stopped, he sighed at the sight of the stairs. His shoulder is going to kill him. Conquering them as well, he went to what seemed to be the living room once. It was full with books and papers and weird paranormal shit, but there was a coffee table with a radio and an armchair. Which also had nerd stuff on top. Great.

He tried his best to move everything from the armchair with his foot. Carefully he placed his brother on it. Now he needed something to keep him in place in case Bill decided to show up again.

After his unsuccessful search in the living room, he continued in what was probably an office. There was a desk, a couch, a bulletin board and the ugliest carpet Stan has ever seen. Wow, his brother had bad taste.

He went over to the desk, whose drawers were overflowing. After rummaging through the chaos, he finally found something that could be of use.

Back in the living room, he was glad seeing his brother was still unconscious. That didn't sound right. But it is still possible that this isn't really his brother. He just had to wait to find out.

A third roll of duct tape later, Stan considered another of his tasks accomplished. The scene now resembled a kidnapping, especially considering that they were in the woods of a dead end's town, but he had other things to worry about.

The silence was deafening. And it left Stan alone with his thoughts. His brother hated him or was impersonated by something. His brother built a portal which someone named Bill Cipher wants to use to conquer earth. And it was still on. If this is his brother, he is an absolute mess and if not, he has no idea where he is.

All in all, Stan came to a conclusion: the supernatural is dangerous.

The pain in his shoulder was still strong, so he decided that should be the next task. Less to screw up than if he tried shutting down the portal.

He went to the bathroom, which was by far the tidiest room. Which just showcased how much of a mess the rest of the house is, as the cabinet's are wild open and clothes are littered in a pile.

Stan approached the cabinet with the mirror first, in hope of finding a first aid kit there.

That's when a red stain on the sink caught his attention. His eyes went wide and a gasp escaped his mouth. Was this… was this dried blood?

Next to the sink is a small trash can, filled to the brim. Bandages upon bandages, mixed with gauze pads, all spotted with the same haunting color.

This home was a horror house and his brother can't escape it.

The anger from earlier was now replaced by worry.

There was a first aid kit, but it was empty. Maybe the wound didn't need treatment and would heal from alone. Unlikely, but still possible. So he examined it in the mirror and- ouch, that is a nasty one. It seemed leathery, but it didn't bleed. Cooling will do it.

Of course his nerd brother didn't have anything in the freezer. Creativity is man's best friend. Looking out of the window, he got an idea.

With an idea in mind he grabbed the cleanest cloth, went outside, filled it with snow and closed it up with the duct tape he put in his pocket.

Immediately his skin felt better. Back inside he went to check up on his brother and nope, he's still asleep. If he thought about it, he had to admit that he's pretty tired himself. On second thought, he doubted that he could fall asleep with all the thoughts racing through his mind, which he didn't want to unpack just yet.

Instead, he toured through the house and made some interesting discoveries. For one, the home didn't really seem like a home and more like a lab. Second, his brother had some weird obsession with geometrical decorations. If the boxes upon boxes of décor pyramids and carpets with triangles in the attic were anywhere to go by.

What's more, he felt like being watched up there. And not just there. The whole house gave him goosebumps if he didn't look over his shoulders every once in a while. It didn't make sense, because no one else lived here.

A yelp spread across the silent cabin and Stan rushed to the living room, where his brother was strapped to the chair, unable to free himself. His eyes were normal again.

They had a long conversation ahead of themselves.

-----

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#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanfiction #stan pines #stanley pines #gf stan #ford pines #stanford pines #gf ford #bill cipher #gf fanfiction #that blood of yours #tw blood #tw violence

[alters-journal]

🐈‍⬛ If you have an inner world did an alter consciously create it? And is anyone able to change it at will?

Okay so our inner world is actually pretty interesting and has evolved over the years. I've been waiting for an excuse to talk about it. >:) *Dr. Eggman voice* YOU FOOL! YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY TALK ABOUT SOMETHING IN GREAT DETAIL MODE! MUAHAHAH! Thank you.

Okay so I've been able to access our inner world for quite some time. I usually did so when I was asleep, or going to sleep, to lessen dissociation. However, the inner world has undergone a lot of change from when I could first access it as a child.

My first experience with the inner world was in the 6th grade. I was going to sleep one night and found myself waking up in a completely pitch black area on a bed I barely recognized. At the foot of the bed was some sort of demon (who I assume is an alter who hasn't made themself known yet) telling me everything was gonna be okay. Things were tough at school and I was getting in way over my head doing things I shouldn't have been doing outside of school. Another what I can only assume was an alter at the time took the form of the grim reaper and talked to me too. Both the "demon" and the "reaper" asked me if I really wanted to continue doing the things I was doing. I told them I did. I felt disappointment from both of them. They told me to go sit by the stream and think about some things.

From then on whenever I needed to calm down I'd close my eyes and imagine myself at that stream in the pitch black area with the reaper and or the demon. I honestly hope they come back around they were chill.

(Fun note: They were both around BEFORE my emo phase begun so....)

At one point I stopped going in to the inner world because I convinced myself it was childish, just like having alters. I knew about some of them as early as the third grade but come middle school I thought I had to "grow up" and leave a lot of that behind. So, just like them, I stopped going in to my headspace.

UNTIL I became obsessed with Gravity Falls in the 7th grade.

In the 7th grade I was hanging out with this psychotic dude who was honestly my closest friend. He had a delusional attachment to Bill Cipher and I just went with it. There wasn't really terms for "fictokin" "DA" and "IRL" at the time so I just thought he was an extreme LARPer. Anyways, I might have a factroject of him I don't really know, but bc I was obsessed and BFFs with a Bill Cipher IRL and I had a Tumblr at the time guess who I introjected. You get ONE guess.

Anyway, Bill has since then fused and it was sad to see him go but we all knew it was necessary. He wanted to fuse so yk. Healing healing etc.

But before all that, Bill got bored and decided it'd be best to fuck around with our headspace and BOY did he fuck around with it.

Anyway, this all starts to read like a bill cipher x reader fanfic but fuck it man I was 13 and cringe culture is dead.

I went to bed one night and woke up in the dirt this time. I looked up at a blue, slightly clouded, sky. Bill poked his head over me and asked me if I was okay before helping me up and showing me around. He asked, and I'll never forget it;

"So, whaddya think? I did it while you were at school cause I thought it needed some spicing up."

I looked around at the intense complexity of it. Birds in the distance, trees surrounding us, dirt pathways, nature calling and filling my ears. A rich, earthy sent filled my lungs. It was extremely vivid, I had no idea my mind was even capable of creating something so complex and real.

"I love it." I whispered. I remember crying a little too.

"It's your mind. You deserve to feel at home and comfortable in it." Bill said patting me on the back.

Then he showed me around. There was a train station. A train that would show me more to headspace. Its tracks went in a loop that edged closer to the mountains in the distance. Bill said they were mostly decorative and unreachable. He showed me the "consciousness shack". It was located on one end of the mindscape as we called it at the time. I'd go in to become conscious. AKA, that's where the front was. Near the front however there was this dark part of the forest that always made me feel uneasy. He told me I shouldn't go near there. Still to this day that part of headspace makes me uneasy but I sure as hell aint brave enough to go look.

He showed me the cliff with the dream mist last. Its this weird part of headspace where you can kind of walk off a cliff and be drifted into unconsciousness. If you REALLY wanna have lucid dreams that night you gotta go walk off the cliff. The mist carries you and you just lose feeling. It's strangely relaxing. I think its a lot of fun personally.

Anyway, 7th grade was coming to an end when I thought It was time for me to move past my "daydreams" with the ever famous tumblr sexyman. To move on from my fun little "daydream world". I was an adult now after all! /sar. But for some reason I couldn't. My friend was slowly moving on from his own Bill Cipher phase. Why couldn't I?

I remember we got into an argument one night. I told him he wasn't real and that I had to move on and grow up. He demanded that he was real. After the fight he did something he later admitted was petty. Before he fused we all made up. He said

"If you're so damn sure that all of this is fake, that all my hard work for you is just a figment of YOUR imagination DESPITE your breathlessness the moment you stepped foot in MY creation-" He paused to catch his breath. "If you want to be the only one here so bad then see how long you last without us!"

And with that he slammed the door to the shack and I woke up in a cold sweat. I wasn't entirely sure who or where I was but the inner world was inaccessible from that moment forward until I realized I was a system a few years ago. When I even learned that systems had a headspace.

It had been years and I had long since forgotten the richness of what the world once was. I found myself in a small, dimly lit, wooden cabin with a few other people. Two doors lead somewhere. One to dormancy and one to a place we were too scared to go to. It was new to all of us and we didn't want to risk anything. What if something terrible happened when we opened that unknown door? We were scared of it. But, as more alters returned from dormancy our little shack grew. Soon it became apparent that this little one room cabin wasn't going to cut it for all of us.

I took it up as my duty as a host to open the door and see what was out there for myself. Low and behold, not a thing changed. The world was the same as the day I left it.

The gatekeepers worked on expanding the cabin, we now have an upper floor designated to all of our bedrooms. Only the gatekeepers can alter headspace itself. Not even I can change the space we occupy.

Not long after the discovery of the outdoors Bill came back and we made peace with each other. He told me once again that he had created this world for me, for all of us. He thought after all we suffered we deserved somewhere to go and feel at peace in our own mind. And thats what it still is today. Headspace is an escape for all of us when things get too tough in the real world. Its a nice thing to have honestly.

More recently, an alter named Snow, ventured to the bottom of the cliff. He discovered it was actually a ravine that served as an excellent pathway to the mountains and as a backdoor to dormancy. He recommended that nobody should really go there because the mountains are freezing.

Last month Marquet showed me something. Hidden by some of the trees he found the old stream, now flowing like a river. It's a fun little spot to sit and relax at so we're clearing a pathway to there so its easier to get to.

And last week Marquet showed me something else. He flew me up above the dream mist by the cliff and showed me that there is still more land to be discovered. Snow said he'd go out and explore it sometime soon so, there's even more to our headspace we'll be discovering soon.

ANDDDDDD that's the chronicles of our headspace. Thanks for coming to my TEDtalk.

#headspace #asks #endos dni #sorry not sorry

[tswwwit]

hey, i was wondering if you could give a brief recap of the events in confessing it? ive been wanting to read the new chapter but its been a while and i cant recall whats happened 🙈 thank you!!

Hm, let's see how quickly I can sum things up!

Okay so. Confessing It.

Bill heads out to go to a demon party, bringing Dipper along with him for what he claims are 'show off his mortal' reasons. What quickly becomes apparent is that Bill, as always, has an ulterior motive. In this instance, it's because he really is in charge of a lot of demons, and he's using the party as an excuse to regain control.

What Dipper eventually figures out-slash-drags out of Bill, is the real reason that Dipper's along for the ride. Their whole life-bond scenario means Bill's looking more mortal than before, and in return - Dipper's looking more powerful. Bill didn't need Dipper around to get his spot back. There was another reason!

Bill pulled his human along with him to the shindig to try and sus out how being with a mortal like that was going to reflect on him. Luckily enough, for the most part, it seems like it works out okay!

Unfortunately for Bill, Dipper's clever enough to notice what Bill hasn't - and what some other demons have.

Mostly that Bill's acting strangely sane, in a noticeable way, and it's only going to paint a bigger target on that human body's back.

After the party's over, Dipper tries to indirectly confront Bill about his newfound semi-sanity - and the emotion that it sprung from - only to get Bill being a Total Asshole about it, claiming 'Nobody's ever gonna love you, kid!'

Dipper is understandably upset, and storms off, leaving Bill in his newly-regained palace.

They're.... not 'broken up', according to Dipper. But they take a break.

Serves you right, Bill, you dick.

During said break, Dipper spends a lot of time going on adventures with Ford. Eventually it's discovered that Bill - or at least other demons - think Dipper's actually broken up with him due to his assholery, and his entire realm has become a pretty bad place to party. An upset Bill Cipher is no fun whatsoever!

Between the revelation that Bill misses him, and Dipper encountering a couple methods of communicating with his semi-estranged husband - the two of them mostly make up by going on phone dates. It's a comfortable stasis that lasts a month or two.

Later, after going through some of Ford's notes, and after a conversation with Bill - Dipper finds out that at some recent point, Bill got his human body killed. Again.

Which means that the all-powerful Bill Cipher is now in a really shitty position, after just putting in a ton of effort to get his status back. Bill is Not Having A Fun Time.

The latest chapter starts where the last one ended off: Dipper's going to fix that human body, Save Bill, and most importantly -

They're going to actually talk. About feelings.

That about sums it up! Go forth and read.

#Confessing It #There's a lot of other details but this is the big summary I suppose #The last chapter was literally the biggest goddamn one in the whole fic by a factor of three #That's because it was jam-packed with important things #answers #Familiar!au

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hopefully this isn't perceived as a request, but what do you think some Disney Villains favorite cuddling position would be?

Oooh, okay lemme see. Remember not all these characters are cuddlers XD So a lot may be left out. Also I myself do not like the idea of cuddling so its hard to imagine haha XD

Some key-cuddlers I can think of though...

Human!Bill Cipher: He likes your backs to be pressed against eachother late into the night because at that point he's still planning and thinking, so he's muttering to himself and lighting up and all that for ours after you've gone to sleep and he wants to be close to you but you don't want him bothering you. When he's done though he's definitely a big spoon, if only to tease you (; Get a good handful of your thigh, or tummy. You know, that good stuff.

Captain Hook: Of course he's a cuddler. He likes to have you buried in his chest at night, so he knows you're not going anywhere. He's a little possessive.

Clayton: Clayton likes to have you in someway against his chest. Like, he's laying on his back and you are using his chest as a pillow.

Don Karnage: Cuddles sustain him. Any kind of cuddles will do. he just gets sad- and comes straight to you. You're like his charger.

Evil Queen Grimhilde: SECRET CUDDLER. She just loves to be all tangled up with you, similar to Hook so she knows you cant get away in the night and also because she just cant get enough of your body. In a sexual and non-sexual way.

Gaston: He only hugs you when he's jealous, sorry. Or he wants to stake his claim. He'll have you perched on his lap in the middle of the tavern if he feels he must, and you don't slap him (But then again, depending on how jealous he is- that may not even stop him.)

Hades: He loves to have you sitting all comfy in his lap while e's doing Important Lord Of The Underworld Stuff like paperwork, and strategy. Its just an easy way to spend time with you when he's busy.

Hans: I think, like Hilde, he is a secret cuddler. The boy is touch starved to the max and turns to mush on the inside (because on the outside he's still heartless, of course) when you wrap your arms around him, or snuggle in his body in bed at night. He has a preference for you facing him when it happens.

Horned King: See Hades. Cant say his lap would be very comfy for you though XDD Maybe place a cushion down.

Jafar: Ehhhhhhh, any snuggles with him turn sexual...

Long John Silver: All. All of the cuddles.

Human!Lotso: Oh my god, he loves cuddles. You wouldn't expect him too after the 'abandonment', but its in his bones. So all sorts of huggles happen here. Happy hugs, sad hugs, angry hugs...

Maleficent: Power cuddles. She has to be in a position of 'power' (Like the big spoon or the bottom, on her back with your head on her chest or on her lap as she sits up) but she does find them quite lovely.

Mother Gothel: She used her cuddles as a manipulation tactic... sorry...

Oogie Boogie: He's more a hug man then a cuddle man.

Prince John: Like Don Karnage, you will need to give him lots of cuddles and affection when he gets all pouty and whiny in order to charge him up again; Console him. He requires these.

Prof Ratigan: He's open to being educated on this matter, but... its not really his thing. He prefers to waltz you, honestly!

Randall Boggs: Very similar to Hans, he doesn't want you two know he wants/likes snuggles, but he does want them. He just cant let you know, because he's really freaken touch starved, and he refuses to let anyone see he actually needs anything soft like that- which he doesnt.

Scar: OH MY GOD SUCH A CUDDLER. All together he's just very affectionate. Lots of kisses, lots of brushing up against you, lots of standing very close, and l o t s of PDA- and a good 90 percent of that is cuddling in front of the rest of the pride. It is part of his power claim, but also he just loves you. He just loves to be touching you.

Shan Yu: He's excuse is that its freezing outside and you two need to stay warm... now take off your clothes. Skin on skin contact is warmer. *Cough* In other words, like Jafar, many of Shan Yu's cuddles turn sexy. He at least wants to really tease you.

Shere Khan: Absolutely. He's down. Likes to sweet talk you while you cuddle so you go red.

Stabbington Brothers: Yes, they do... Patchy more so. He's not ashamed of wanting you in his sleeping bag with him. Sideburns on the other hand is a bit of a 'macho man' and doesn't want to admit he wants cuddles in a purely innocent way. But yeah... he does.

Steelbeak: Again, all.

Sykes: Loves to have his arm around you in the back of his limo, just talking quietly and enjoying the minutes you have alone together before the drive ends and he has to work again.

Syndrome: Again- like Hans and Randall.

Toon Patrol:

Greasy- Greasy is definitely a kisses over cuddles kinda guy but he can appreciate cuddles every now and then too.

Psycho- Hugs that feel more like restraints. You may bruise. He also can be super super gentle though- and there is no in between.

Smartass- AGAINNN, like Hans, Randall and Syndrome. Doesn't want to admit it but he does appreciate them.

Stupid- This boy will wrap his arms around you in the middle of the street and will not let go until he's filled.

Wheezy- If you're buried in his chest, you aren't inhaling the smoke that comes puffing outta his face like a steam train. He also likes it ^^ And he isn't afraid to admit it ^^

King Candy: Ohhh yep. Has his arm around your waist so much of the time.

Ursula: Her cuddles turn sexual too.

[ckret2]

Editing's going faster now. Here's chapter four of The Mystery Shack Takes Human Bill Cipher Prisoner. (Real title TBD.) Chapters one, two, and three.

####

In the middle of the night, Ford knocked on the attic door: "Eye check!"

Mabel and Dipper groaned.

"No complaining! This is for everyone's safety." Ford opened the attic door. "This will be the last one before Stanley and I take over guard duty, you can get some uninterrupted sleep then."

Mabel squinted up at Ford's flashlight with her blanket pulled up to her nose. Dipper groggily sat up as Ford inspected his eyes, but then he snatched the flashlight. "You too."

"Good thinking, Dipper. I know I'm me, but the rest of you shouldn't take my word for it." Ford crouched by the bed and let Dipper shine the flashlight in his eyes.

"Okay, clear." Dipper handed it back.

Mabel yawned. "What if Bill got colored contacts? We wouldn't be able to tell he's in someone's head, right?"

Ford froze halfway out the attic doorway. "Nobody go back to sleep! I need to do another eye check!"

The entire household groaned.

####

Once Soos reassured the Pines that Bill was "Still sleeping like a creepy, tied-up baby," he and Melody went to bed as Stan and Ford took over guard duty.

Usually, the cellar was one of the least interesting rooms in the shack. A water heater, a washing machine, storage for some old furniture and electronics. But when Stan and Ford opened the cellar doors, the first thing Ford's flashlight beam fell on was the body of Bill's puppet, face covered in a cloud of hair, curled up small on the bare mattress at the bottom of the stairs. The bright yellow and purple in the dull room was as shocking as a scream.

Ford quickly turned his flashlight off. He stood stock still on the top step.

Stan locked the doors behind them. "So, uh. Do you wanna just... stay up here?" 

Ford nodded stiffly. "That seems wise. It keeps us between him and the only exit." 

"Yeah. Smart thinking." 

They sat on the stairs together.

Even with the flashlight off, Ford couldn't stop seeing the figure curled up below—invisible in the dark but nevertheless vividly, dreadfully imagined. It changed the room, transforming it into a tomb. The walls seemed to tilt in on the unconscious, unseen silhouette, forcing Ford and Stan toward the thing that wanted them dead.

After about fifteen minutes, Ford was on the verge of being driven insane by his own heartbeat pounding in his ears, when the cellar's silence was interrupted by a soft shuffling-creaking on the mattress below.

Ford elbowed Stan. Stan snorted and started awake. "Huh—what—?"

"Shh!"

There was more shuffling, then a groan. A high, fearful, feminine voice called out, "Wh... where am I? Am I tied up? What happened? What—"

Ford turned his flashlight on. The person on the mattress flinched, blinking heavily at the sudden light. "Hello? Wh-who are you? How did I get here, what do you want with me?"

"All right, calm down," Ford said brusquely. "Tell me, what do you remember?"

"I..." The person on the mattress frowned in concentration. "It's a blur. The last thing I remember is this... weird dream about a golden triangle?"

Ford exchanged a glance with Stan. "What did the triangle do?"

"I think he offered me some kind of bargain? After that, I'm not sure... I think I remember sleepwalking—"

"That was Hebrew," Ford said. "You speak fluent Hebrew?"

The person below blinked. "Jewish school?"

Stan snorted.

"Fine," Ford said. "Where are you from?"

"You mean, before all this? Arizona—I'm from Sedona—how far am I from home—?"

"And," Ford said, "that was Latin." Stan wheezed.

Open mouth. Shut mouth. Open. "I... majored in classical studies—"

"Give it up, Bill."

The expression of innocent fear melted away into a tired, almost bored look. "Ha. All right, I'm too tired to talk my way out of this one." Bill's voice sounded like him again. "It was worth a shot." He struggled in his restraints to roll over. "Turn off the light, would ya? My head's killing me."

"Leave it on," Stan said.

Without looking at them, Bill said, "I can make my voice very annoying."

Stan said, "Leave it on, and I'll get a sock and duct tape."

Ford turned off the flashlight.

When Bill had been unconscious, he'd been a vague, undefined threat. The dark seemed different now. Less frightening. Knowing Bill was awake made it easier to remember what he was:

A pest. A nuisance. A pain in the keister.

Stan quietly pantomimed chucking something at Bill's head, then muttered under his breath, "I don't know why he's tired. He's almost got a full night's sleep."

"I don't know if he's ever controlled a human body for this long," Ford said. "Much less been magically trapped in one by a unicorn belt. Maybe prolonged psychic puppetry drains his energy—"

"Or maybe he's a wimp," Stan cut in. "That's what I was going for, I'm suggesting he's a wimp."

Ford snorted quietly. "Or he's a wimp."

There was no sound from below. Either Bill had already fallen back asleep, or he was doing a darn good job of pretending he had. For a moment, Stan and Ford remained silent, listening.

Then Ford stood, unlocked the door, and quietly left.

####

There was a clatter at the attic window. Dipper and Mabel both immediately bolted upright, fully alert—they'd never quite gotten back to sleep—and exchanged a terrified look.

There was a second sharp tap. They scrambled out of bed, peered out the window—and then flung it open. "Wendy!"

Wendy froze in the middle of winding up to throw another stone. "Hey! Dipper, Mabel! I couldn't sleep, I was worried about you guys. Is your secret weird paranormal thing over?"

Dipper and Mabel leaned out of the window. They were wearing pajamas and matching tin foil hats.

Wendy stared at them. "I'm... taking that as a no." She bit her lip to keep from laughing. "You guys look exhausted."

Mabel groaned. "It's been keeping us up all night. It's impossible to lay down with tin foil on your head?"

"And we've been getting checked on every couple hours," Dipper said.

"Plus it might not be safe to sleep!"

"And—" Dipper grimaced. "And we can't even talk about it until it's over..."

"Okay, yeah, got it," Wendy said. "Secret family business, it's cool. Just—reassure me that you guys are safe? I don't want you to get eaten by a T-Rex-nado or something before we get to hang this summer."

Were they safe? They exchanged a look. Mabel tilted her head and shrugged uncertainly. Dipper said, "The threat... is... securely contained."

That time, Wendy did burst out laughing. "Okay! I'll accept that. I already told Soos, but—call me if you need backup, all right?"

Mabel stuck a thumbs up out the window. "You got it!"

"Thanks, Wendy."

"I'll see you in the morning if the Mystery Shack's open," Wendy said. "If not... I dunno, my day'll be free, maybe we can do something? If you don't have to deal with the contained threat."

"Yeah, that sounds great," Mabel said. "I'm gonna see Grenda and Candy sometime tomorrow, buuut I don't think Dipperhas anything planned—"

Dipper kicked her ankle. She kicked his back, grinning.

"Awesome. See you tomorrow, then."

When Wendy had biked away, Dipper said, "You're not gonna spend all summer teasing me about last summer's crush, are you?"

"Nooo, I'm not, I promise! But I had to get one in." Mabel laughed and flopped heavily on her bed. The old mattress springs wheezed. "Besides! I know your heart belongs to that girl at the judo club who likes you."

"Mabel, I don't—" Dipper paused. "Do you really think Kelsey likes me?"

Mabel laughed. "Good night, Dipper."

Dipper shut the window. They both got back in bed, slid under their covers, and stared at the ceiling. And stared at the ceiling. And stared at the ceiling.

"Pssst. Dipper."

"What is it?"

"I can't sleep. Can you?"

A heavy sigh. "No." Voice low, as if afraid they could be heard all the way from the cellar, Dipper said, "I just keep wondering—did we really trap him in that tourist before he escaped? Or did we lose as soon as he fainted?"

Mabel kicked off her covers, sat up, and turned to face Dipper, hugging her knees. "Actually, I think we did trap him. I... kinda think Bill can't escape?"

Dipper sat up as well. "What do you mean?"

"You remember how I wrestled him when he was you?" Mabel asked. "Your body was really, really cold. Like, dead-cold. But when I was drawing on Bill's face, his skin felt..."

"... Normal." Dipper had spent six hours tackling Bill. When he'd been trying grip Bill's arms and ankles so he couldn't flail free, Dipper hadn't noticed anything unusual about Bill's body—but that was unusual, wasn't it?

"Yeah. Normal. What if he's not controlling somebody? What if he, I dunno, turned himself human to avoid getting killed? Like a unicorn."

"Unicorns don't do that."

"They can if a wizard helps! That's not the point. The point is..." Mabel struggled to put her mountain of emotions into words, and finally, simply finished, "... what if he's just a human now?"

They both had to sit with the suggestion, waiting to see if it filled them with relief or dread. A human was less powerful than whatever Bill had been; but in some way, the human body shielded Bill, too, making it impossible to properly confront and defeat him.

"What if his human body is like a Trojan horse?" Dipper asked. "And this was all a big trick, and he's just—waiting inside it? For one of the remaining micro-rifts to the Nightmare Realm to widen, or—or the perfect moment to return to his real body?"

Mabel hugged her knees a little tighter. "But if he could leave the body any time he wants, do you think he'd be patient enough to just wait?"

"He was patient enough to wait billions of years to get into our universe."

"I don't think that counts. He wasn't biding his time, he was stuck. He would've gotten here sooner if he could have." 

"Then... I don't know."

That was just it. They didn't know.

They didn't want to talk about the dread pooling in their stomachs and creeping up the backs of their necks. They didn't want to talk about their anger—the injustice that he was back, that this wasn't over, that another summer was going to be overshadowed by him.

But if they weren't talking about that, what else could they talk about? It was all they could think about. For a moment, they just sat together in silence.

Which was when they heard Ford yelp in alarm.

####

Soos had answered the knock on his bedroom door holding a baseball bat.

Ford drew back, hands raised. "Soos, it's me! What's this for?"

"Sorry. It's been a crazy night. I keep having dreams about the Roman Senate assassinating Bill? Like, Julius Caesar, except he's a triangle?" Soos put the bat down. "Anyway, what's up? Is it time for another eye check?"

"Yes, but that's not the main reason I'm here."

Still in bed, Melody groaned, "Are all these really necessary?"

Soos had to use his fingers to hold his eyes open for Ford's flashlight. "'Fraid so. Bill's really good at taking over people. He's got Dipper, he's got Ford... One time he got me! That doesn't really count though, it was in a dream. Kinda."

"All right, you're clean." Ford looked at Melody, decided that since he'd had confirmation that Bill was still in the body in the cellar it might be a little too rude to examine a half-asleep young woman in bed, and offered the flashlight to Soos so he could check his fiancée instead. "What I really came up here to say is that Bill woke up. Now we know he's still in that body."

("Melody, have I told you lately that you have really pretty eyes?" "Awww, Soos.")

Ford cleared his throat. "Stan's 'friends' are waiting. Time to gag him and go."

Soos's expression hardened. (It wasn't terribly intimidating.) "I'll get the sock and duct tape."

Melody rubbed the spots from her eyes. "Are you up for this? You've got a long drive, and you've been up all night looking at everybody's eyes."

"Bill's given me worse sleep deprivation than this," Ford said wryly. "I'll be fine."

"You're sure? If you need someone to help drive..."

"Melody, you're an angel for helping as much as you have. Especially when none of this is your problem yet." Even though she occasionally spent the night with Soos, she wouldn't be moving into the shack until after the wedding and honeymoon, which they'd scheduled for after the summer tourist rush. "And I know you have reservations about—how we're handling this."  

Melody shrugged ruefully. "I mean—I don't like that you've got the demon triangle in your cellar, but Soos says you're some kind of insane space wizard and an expert on this stuff, so..." In the dim light, she flashed Ford a strained smile. "Just—I guess—tell me if there's anything else I can do to help prevent the apocalypse." 

Insane space wizard. Ford hoped that was a compliment. "Just hold down the fort while we're moving Bill. Thank you."

####

Dipper and Mabel pulled their ears away from the attic door. Dipper whispered, "Anything could go wrong while they're moving Bill. Do you think we should...?"

"Pfff!" Mabel rolled her eyes. "C'mon bro, is that even a question?"

Dipper smiled wanly.

Wordlessly, they put on their backpacks—already packed—and pulled sweaters on over their pajamas, and tiptoed downstairs with their shoes in their hands.

####

Ford inspected Stan's eyes again before he said, "Soos will be down in a minute."

Stan blinked the lights out of his eyes. "You'd better not keep doing that while I'm driving." He shut the door so that if Bill woke back up, he couldn't listen in on their plans to relocate him.

"You're not going to be driving. I am."

"Come on! It's my car!"

"It's night, you have cataracts, and you already fell asleep during guard duty."

"I wasn't asleep, I was resting my eyes!"

"In the dark?" Ford asked. "Would you prefer Soos or me?"

Stan grumbled and crossed his arms, but decided he wasn't going to win this fight. He nudged Ford and changed the topic. "Now, that Latin was all Greek to me—but is it just me, or is his Hebrew better than yours?"

He was saying it to be annoying. Ford knew he was trying to be annoying. It worked. Ford was annoyed. "Well—of course he's better. He's probably been speaking it three thousand years. And his accent's probably just as old."

"Ah, excuses. Bet his Latin's better, too."

He was doing it on purpose. He was doing it on purpose. "You wouldn't know Latin from Latvian!"

"This isn't about me." Stan gave Ford his most annoying shit-eating grin. "Hey—when did you pick up Latin, anyway?"

At least he wasn't teasing anymore. "I needed to complete an undergrad foreign language requirement."

"You just couldn't go for something useful that living people speak, huh?"

"On the contrary, Latin's been enormously useful in my study of weirdness. It's very popular with sorcerers and occultists alike," Ford said. "And it got us out of that bar brawl in Atlantis, didn't it?"

"That gobbledygook was Latin? I thought it was some kind of mermaid language. Or Italian," Stan said. "Well, whaddaya know? Good job going to the only college in the world teaching Conversational Latin, I guess."

Ford grimaced. "Actually... I just learned to read and write Latin at Backupsmore. The only reason I can speak it... is Bill."

An uncomfortable silence settled over them, the way it always did when Stan asked where'd you pick up—? or how'd you learn about—? and Ford had to say Bill. It was an answer that demanded more questions that Stan didn't really want to ask and Ford didn't really want to answer. Usually, when Ford said Bill, Stan changed the topic.

But burying the topic was harder when Bill was less than twenty feet away. Stan shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his gaze on the weeds sprouting in the shack's parking lot. "You've said he used to be your friend. You didn't mean like when you call a guy a 'friend' because you don't hate running into him twice a year at the grocery store. Did you?"

Ford got the impression that Stan wanted to believe Bill had just been a cordial acquaintance. Ford wished. He shook his head.

Stan clicked his tongue. "You know, I never got the impression you were 'friends' when I was reading your journals. He just seemed like another of your random... demon-fairy acquaintances."

"I ripped out the other pages about him."

"There were more?"

Ford's head burned with shame. He'd waxed poetic—called him divine, blessed, a miracle, a muse—been inspired to draw sunrises and constellations because a mere drawing of an eye in a triangle couldn't convey the all-encompassing awe Ford's muse filled him with—and all that for what? A two-dimensional two-bit con artist who'd been slumming it in the lawless no man's land between civilized dimensions, now chained up on a dingy mattress in Ford's cellar.

Stan had a right to know—but it was hard to admit just how enraptured Ford had been by an interdimensional grifter. Hard to admit nothing else had enraptured him so much since. Nothing sparkled quite like fool's gold. "We can talk once he's gone." 

Stan paused. "Yeah. That's probably better."

####

Apparently Bill really had fallen asleep again that fast, because he didn't stir as the Pines and Soos gagged him and carried him into the back of Stan's car. Soos sat in the back with his baseball bat and Bill, and Ford and Stan silently envied him for not having to turn his back on Bill. The car pulled away from the Mystery Shack with its headlights off.

Moments later, Dipper and Mabel followed on bikes.

####

#wendy corduroy #mabel pines #dipper pines #(for the art) #bill cipher #human bill cipher #(for the fic) #(ironically bill does the least out of anyone this chapter but like it's ABOUT him) #gravity falls #gravity falls fic #fanfic #bill goldilocks cipher #my writing

[eldragon-x]

An attempt at a backstory/character analysis of Bill Cipher

I'm kinda into Gravity Falls again lately, Bill has been living in my head rent free for ages, and I've been thinking a lot about the extra-canonical content around him so I decided it'd be fun to speculate around that!

This post doesn't even include everything I originally wanted to talk about because it was already a long and very speculative mess, but I hope it's enjoyable regardless.

Also credits to this post by weirdmageddon here, this pile of information defenetly made my life easier.

Okay let’s just start with the Axolotl Poem from the book “Dipper and Mabel and the Time Pirates’ Treasure”:

For the purpose of this analysis I’ll be focusing on this part, since it’s easily the most interesting and revealing bit of the poem:

Saw his own dimension burn. Misses home and can’t return. Says he’s happy. He’s a liar. Blame the arson for the fire.

Bill’s birth-dimension and why it was destroyed

This is actually something that is referenced in the show! Bill describes his original dimension as dull, boring and restrictive. He claims that he freed it by destroying it and that he’s granting our known dimension a similar freedom through Weirdmageddon.

But we can dig deeper. In Journal 3, Ford wrote an entry about a dimension called Exwhylia which he encountered during his time in the multiverse. I'll add text under all references to J3 to make things easier to read.

(My quest to defeat Bill led me to a strange world that I mistakenly believed to be his birthplace. / “Above” being a direction they know nothing about and does not exist.

A. an upper-class circle B. a lowly triangle C. a building off in the distance D. a leaf 5 inches from your face I believe Bill came from a similar world that was mysteriously destroyed. But how?)

On top of that, back in 2015, Alex Hirsch hosted a Reddit AMA where he would answer questions as Bill which gives us another piece of information:

Edwin Abbott Abbott is the author of the novella “Flatland” which was published in 1884. I’m going to hold myself back from rambling about this book because this is a post about the funny Mr. Peanut Triangle and not Flatland, we just need some bits of it for this post.

Flatland is about a two-dimensional world of the same name which is inhabited by people who are simple shapes. The amount of sides a resident in Flatland has determines their social class. The more sides, the higher up the ladder.

Due to its two-dimensionality, Flatland’s inhabitants normally can’t comprehend up or down, yet some have discovered three-dimensionality. But it’s such a taboo in their world that anyone who knows of it is locked away at best and killed at worst. The upper-class circles are the only ones allowed to know about it without consequences and withhold this information.

Similarly, though by far not as forbidden, are colors. Color isn’t naturally-occuring in Flatland but it can be created and used to be a whole thing until its use was banned and limited to those more privileged.

At one point, the protagonist himself describes Flatland as dull in relation to the lack of color.

While the two pages about Exwhylia obviously can’t give as much insight as Flatland, both have a few differences, and it’s kept vague exactly how similar Bill’s dimension was to either of these worlds (“came from a similar world”, “has a decent idea”), we can get a pretty good picture of it based on these pieces.

A small, strict, dull world where the higher-ups keep away anything that could provide enrichment or a wider perspective from the general public.

I’m sure many people would hate that. I’m sure someone like Bill (who, as an equilateral triangle, would’ve been part of the middle class and no way in hell easy access to color or 3D knowledge) would especially hate that.

-

I think there’s more to this though. Let’s talk about Bill’s powers.

We know little to nothing about when or how he received them, but the Axolotl Poem implies it was before he destroyed his dimension as he’d need outstanding abilities in order to burn a whole dimension down while also not getting himself killed in the process.

Here we see Bill talk about his newly-gained and expanded powers with the occurrence of Weirdmageddon. Seeing that this leads into his dialogue about his old home dimension (shown earlier in this section), the line “I wasn’t always this way” suggests he wasn’t just born with his power or anything like that.

The way he compares this to his new powers could mean he might’ve even started out with relatively little power that just grew after he left his dimension. For all we know he could’ve burned it down while only possessing the necessary abilities to burn things in large scale and escape his dimension, having learned of higher dimensions through other means and gaining omniscience at a later point.

Still, this isn't my main argument for Bill’s choice to destroy his world being a gradual process that involved several factors. His family is.

-

We don’t have much information about Bill’s family. The best there is is this bit from Journal 3,

(Apparently, his thirst for power caused him to destroy his home dimension - including his parents)

possibly this bit from Sock Opera? Partially because Bill kinda projects onto Mabel but more on that later.

and this statement by Hirsch from the NYCC 2015:

Q: “I was thinking if Bill has a brother, or is he working with someone?” A: “If you think Grunkle Stan’s relationship with his family is bad, Bill’s is worse.”

Now you can read a lot into this especially with the comparison to Stan and the question being about a potential brother of Bill’s.

Stan was kicked out by his parents, never saw them again, and had a lot of conflict with his brother (which gets resolved by the end of the show). Does this mean Bill had bad parents and conflict with a sibling, especially considering Sock Opera? Maybe!

But I definitely consider it likely that this comparison really serves to further establish Stan and Bill as foil characters with parallels. I won’t go into it here but here’s a great post about it!

But let’s finally get to the point. Bill has a bad relationship with his family and the Oracle mentions his parents in relation to him destroying his dimension. You know what this makes me think of? This statement by Hirsch from an interview:

I know it says here “over thousands of years” and the examples used are probably very childish because a kid asked the question but I can’t help but think this reflects Bill’s attitude even in his earlier life. He doesn’t always get his way, he holds onto this pettiness, it festers the poor relationship with his parents, at some point he learns of an unrestricted world that has been withheld from him, he gets wildly destructive powers and next thing you know the multiverse is doomed.

The Nightmare Realm and Escapism

So, Bill sees a lot of himself in Mabel and projects onto her. It’s very outright in Bill’s page in “Dipper’s and Mabel’s Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun”:

As well as in the DVD Commentary of Sock Opera:

“Bill genuinely believes that Mabel’s kinda like him. He sees Mabel as a chaos agent. Like, Mabel has got a little bit of a seed of anarchy in her, she’s a little bit selfish, she likes to have fun at whatever cost. And Bill is all those things times a billion. So he thinks when he lays it all out for her like: ‘How about instead of being lame, you do something fun! And crush whoever you want in the process!’. He thinks that’s gonna go over. And he’s not wrong in seeing that side in Mabel but Mabel is a better person than Bill Cipher.”

And when you look at how Bill thinks Mabel is like him, how the poem mentions him - a fun and delightful character - lying about being happy, and how he hates rules and holds these little grudges while Mabel learns to face difficulties despite wanting to hide from them, and learns to grow up and move on… it paints an interesting picture.

This post comparing Mabel Land and the Nightmare Realm is kinda similar to what I imagine, but let me make my own case.

(...my old “Muse” is actually one of the most feared beings in the entire multiverse. Bill took over the Nightmare Realm as a hideout for him and his cronies, but because this place is lawless, without any consistent physics or rules, it is eventually fated to self-destruct. This is why Bill seeks a new, more stable dimension to take over and a foolish mind willing to let him in.

Bill’s universe is not exactly a dimension, but rather a boiling, shifting intergalactic foam between dimensions - a lawless, unstable crawl space between worlds that only the strangest and most unknowable beings call home.)

So, at some point after destroying his original home dimension Bill got some buddies and they willingly entered this foam dimension and took over it. The Journal also mentions that the realm acts as a gateway to other worlds and has wormholes that lead to other dimensions. And we know there’s ways not just in but also out of the Nightmare Realm because Ford left it through a wormhole and the Lost Legends comic book has an alien truck driver who helps Stan and Ford get around the multiverse from the Nightmare Realm.

But something’s weird because in Weirdmageddon, Bill says that he’s been trapped in the Nightmare Realm, despite all this.

And it definitely gives him restrictions since before Weirdmageddon, there was no connection between the realm and our known dimension and Bill could only interact with our dimension through the Mindscape. But in theory he should still be able to go to other worlds unless he specifically is genuinely trapped there. But we get no indication of how or why that would be, and why would he willingly enter a space that would trap him in the first place?

Y’know, maybe these restrictions are exactly what makes him feel like he’s “trapped”. Because there still are limitations. But I also think Bill just doesn’t want to leave the Nightmare Realm (behind).

Think about it, Bill made the realm his home after destroying the 2nd dimension. Maybe at this point there was already a lingering regret. But he finds this lawless realm of endless possibilities where he can party forever which is like the antithesis of his old home at just the right time. It’s everything he could want! Maybe destroying his home was all worth it and he never has to think about it again!

So yeah, Bill could theoretically leave the Nightmare Realm to avoid being caught in its decay. But why would he? What other dimension could possibly satisfy him and offer more? Instead he looks for a dimension to merge with the Nightmare Realm so it can keep existing. And hey, he’d kinda be helping the people in that dimension by doing this because maybe they’d realize how limited their existence is just like he once did! Tho it's uh. questionable how much he cares about that part.

I mean he goes so far to risk tearing down all of existence alongside the realm and himself just for the chance to keep it around. 

Anyway the fact that he found this dimension that offered him everything he always wanted at just the right time inspired him to create Mabel Land

But unlike Bill who tried to keep the Nightmare Realm stable no matter what, Mabel leaves Mabel Land and is the one to destroy it because she has accepted that she’ll face hardships, unlike Bill who continues to look for distractions from his problems.

Also this is unrelated to the whole escapism thing but I really want to mention in this section that another reason Bill wants to cause Weirdmageddon is likely not just to keep the Nightmare Realm going, but also simply because it juiced up his powers. Y'know considering the Oralce said Bill destroyed his dimension out of a thirst for power and he wants more power because something something breaking limitations. I know this is obvious stuff but I feel the need to keep this post somehow grounded on solid canon, especially with what I'm about to make up.

Nihilism

Okay I’m going to wildly speculate here and probably look at Bill’s mindset through a more human lens than intended but just bear with me for a moment. I think at some point Bill grew nihilistic as a way to distance himself from his unhappiness and further avoid dealing with it.

What mainly kicked off this train of thought was this here from the AMA.

On the surface this just reads as Bill being a god who is above the concept of reality as we know it and understands things differently ect. ect. but with the context of “Says he’s happy. He’s a liar.” it’s like… that tells something about him.

There’s also these pieces from the AMA which give the impression of Bill being above mortals and the concept of love and whatever but from a human lens I’m just seeing some miserable guy going “love isn’t real and life has no meaningful purpose”.

Also something about him in the show saying things like “reality is an illusion” and “meaning has no meaning”.

Now don’t get me wrong, I think a lot of this is just straight up Bill being a chaos God who has an abstract perspective on things. God knows he genuinely sees himself above mortals.

But I just think it’s interesting to think about this in the context of there being something underlying here. Or maybe I’m just lost in the sauce of overanalyzing Bill Cipher’s mysterious backstory and psyche hell if I know.

-

Footnote about the whole escapism and denial thing: I feel like you can vaguely draw a parallel with McGucket here. He tried to just forget about everything but ultimately finds closure by rediscovering and coming to terms with his past and all.

Control

Just something interesting that occurred to me while writing this whole thing. It was kinda odd to me that Bill “took over” the lawless Nightmare Realm and is even described as “The King of Nightmares” by Ford in Journal 3. Bill also tells the residents of Gravity Falls that they can call him their “new Lord and Master” as he tries to turn the dimension into a world without rules with Weirdmageddon. 

And it’s also weird how, despite how terrible the 2nd Dimension was and how much it clashes with someone like him, he still misses it after all this time.

I just think there seems to be an irony about Bill being a chaos god who finds comfort and kinship in the strange, unusual and incomprehensible while at the same time desiring control and craving familiarity.

Conclusion/Summary

Bill grew up with restrictions in his life, be it little things within his personal relationships or on a greater scale within society and the universe as a whole. Once he had the chance to escape these restrictions, he did so by burning down his home dimension and everyone in it but ended up living with regret over this. He made the Nightmare Realm his own home because it offered both the freedom he wanted and the distractions he sought from his unhappiness. The Nightmare Realm was dying but instead of leaving it, Bill was dedicated to merging it with a more stable dimension. Mainly to keep it existing and push the limitations of his own power, but also hoping that other beings would realize just how small their world was.

Additionally, Bill’s perceived superiority over mortals and indifference towards a lot of things might’ve possibly started out as a nihilistic mindset that he adopted to disconnect himself from his regrets. And despite the chaos about him, he wants to have control and yearns for familiarity. 

-

I think I just want to close this post by saying it’s fascinating how such a delightfully cruel villain lives such a miserable and bleak existence. I’m going to tattoo the Axolotl Poem onto my brain.

#gf #bill tag #gravity falls #bill cipher #analysis #<- this post may be a mess but I put time and effort in there and you will look at it

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems Ch.14

That’s it folk, we’re done here :) AO3 link

Chapter 14 - Family

“Pass the rice.”

“Say please.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“I don’t know which scares me more,” Brad mused. “When you look murderous or when you try to make that puppy-face.”

Maria threw a pea at him in retaliation. Eduardo passed her the rice, since Brad was too busy ducking and laughing.

The apartment was filled with the greasy, mouthwatering scent of takeout. Elisha had put on some upbeat background music. Outside a spring storm tapped on the windows, but inside it was warm and cosy.

Thomas sat back in his chair, surrounded by the familiar teasing and joking, and couldn’t help but relax. Something inside of him that hadn’t felt quite right ever since that night was finally thawing. 

On the other side of the table was Tyrone, poking at his food and listening to the easy conversation around him. He must have felt Thomas’ gaze, because he looked up and smiled.

Twelve, Thomas thought, remembering this afternoon and what Tyrone had told him. Twelve, and at the same time centuries old. How difficult that must be. How painful to see everyone you cared about grow old, while you never really could. 

(“You were just a kid.”

“Bill Cipher didn’t care,” Dipper Pines had said.)

“- no way you can. Come on, prove me wrong.”

“Okay dude, be ready to be amazed!” Eduardo shoved his chair back and took off his shoes. 

When his socks followed, Elisha cleared her throat. “Could you move this to the couch?”

“What exactly are we doing? I wasn’t paying attention,” Thomas admitted.

Tyrone seemed distracted as well. He had barely touched his food. This wasn’t the first time Thomas noticed how human he looked. Only this time he knew it wasn’t just a disguise, but more of a might-have-been. A human soul turned into a demon, a demon’s soul released into the human reincarnation cycle in return… It still sounded crazy.

(“Evergreen,” Thomas had said, as puzzle pieces slipped into place. “I get it now. Very clever.”)

“Eddy claims he can use chopsticks with his feet,” Brad said.

“A useful and rare talent, I’m sure,” Elisha said, visibly amused despite herself. “But not one for the table we are all using to eat.”

“I’m moving, I’m moving,” Eduardo said. “Got an extra pair of chopsticks?”

Maria put down a single dumpling on the coffee table with an air of ceremony. “Go ahead.”

(“My twin sister. She was the original Mizar. And I know she’s still around, her soul at least – but I miss her,” Dipper Pines had said, shrinking down into himself until he was small, and so very young. “I can’t expect every reincarnation to be the same. They’re all Mizar. But they’re not all Mabel.”)

“It’s never going to work,” Brad said. “I don’t believe – what the heck? How are you doing this?”

“I have skills, dude,” Eduardo said, chewing on the dumpling. He swallowed it. “Tadaah!”

Maria whooped. Thomas laughed, and Elisha shook her head with a smile.

“You’re all ridiculous,” his fiancée said.

“It’s not that difficult.” Eduardo slipped the chopsticks from between his toes and sat back upright. “Want to try?”

“How about you, Tyrone?” Maria teased. “I bet you can’t.”

“Pff, of course I can. I just don’t feel the need to prove it.”

Brad glanced at him, and his uneaten plate of food. “You’re awfully quiet tonight.”

“Yeah, well,” Tyrone said, with a wry smile. “Nearly getting my friends killed dampens the mood somewhat.”

“That’s no reason to mope around,” Maria claimed. “Everything worked out fine, right?”

“I’m just glad it wasn’t you after all.” Brad made a face. “I was kinda worried about your weird PMS thing.”

“What exactly do you mean by that?” Elisha said, with a rather dry look at Brad.

“He means the whole Beast-and-Star theory,” Thomas saved Brad from his fiancée.

Which wasn’t right, he realised. They claimed Alcor had two faces – and maybe he did. But there was a third face, the one that loved candy and adventures and games. Not the destructive demon, not the fire-wreathed saviour. Just a child that never got to grow up.

“I don’t have a ‘weird PMS thing’!”

“Sure, whatever. Let’s just all be glad we’re alive and leave it at that.”

“Ugh.”

“There was a challenge given,” Maria reminded them, a glint in her eyes. “How about it, Tyrone? I bet you can’t pick up that dumpling with chopsticks, without using your hands.”

“Fine, challenge accepted. Get me those chopsticks.”

“Let’s make it interesting, shall we? If you succeed, you get my dessert. But if you fail, you owe me a little favour.”

“I take back what I said, this is your scariest expression,” Brad said. “Maria, scheming.”

“A favour, huh?” Tyrone grinned, back in his element. “You have something particular in mind, then?”

“Yep,” Maria said, matching his mischievous energy with her own wide grin. “Just your help with some little adjustments on my motorbike. Sentient vehicles are all the rage, after all.”

“Oh Stars,” Thomas groaned. This was a horrible idea. 

“Deal!” Tyrone said, brightly. He snapped his fingers, and the chopsticks floated through the air, delivering the dumpling to his mouth before helpfully moving Maria’s banana fritters to his own plate. “Thanks for the free dessert!”

“Hey now, that’s cheating!” Maria laughed.

Tyrone only shrugged and returned to his plate, where he finally started eating with his usual enthusiasm. “What did you expect? I am a demon.”

(“I was a normal twelve-year old, with a twin sister, Mabel,” Dipper Pines had said. “One summer our parents shipped us up north to a sleepy town called Gravity Falls, to stay at our great-uncle's place in the woods…”)

-----

There was a girl, opening a door. She had soft brown eyes and thick curls. Her shirt depicted a cartoony image of a cactus in sunglasses and had a truly ridiculous pun on it.

Elisha swallowed her fashion advice and smiled. “Amy Wethers? My name is Elisha McKenzie. I’m here on behalf of a mutual friend. Messy hair, short, tends to float when he gets excited?”

“Oh,” the girl said, leaning against the side of the door. Wary, but not completely unapproachable. “I’m familiar. Why did he send you?”

“Just to talk,” Elisha said. “You probably have a lot of questions and I know for a fact that Alcor can take some time to get used to. I also know some little tricks to get him out of your hair when he gets too annoying. Can I come in?”

------

Back in the Mindscape, there was a place called the Midway Bar. It was the place demons visited to relax, to socialise, and occasionally make deals. 

There was an empty table in the corner. A moment ago it had been occupied, now it was empty. This may have something to do with the large pair of curled horns currently stuck in its surface.

“I’m not here to fight,” Alcor said, the horns still vibrating slightly from the force with which they had been rammed into the table. A drop of sulphurous demon blood sizzled on the wood. “Just redecorating a little. That’s fine, isn’t it?”

The Bartender was frowning in his direction. The low-level demons that had fled to the edges of the room stayed there, wary. Each of them wondering if they could run, and for how long.

“Can’t fight inside the Midway Bar, right?” Alcor added. “I promised the Bartender. I’m playing nice, see? But I’m not promising the same if you leave. Come on, let’s have a talk. I have some deals to offer. To low-levels only, though. Limited time offer! You don’t wanna miss it!” 

The Bartender sighed, but went back to cleaning glasses.

Alcor’s burning eyes found the nearest demon. “Come a bit closer, don’t make me yell at you.”

“Eep!” said the Skeleton Bug. She turned one eyestalk towards the exit, another towards the Bartender. A third remained fixed on Alcor, whose shape was still coated in little flecks of demon blood, of several different colours. 

Behind her, those lucky bastards who weren’t the focus of Alcor’s attention slipped out. 

Alcor beckoned them closer. Itpolec, halfway through climbing through a window, suddenly thought better of it and hid underneath a table.

Asopiel pulled herself together, her storm clouds thickening. “You’re not going to destroy us?”

“That depends. You have two choices. One of them is this,” Alcor said, and shoved a densely written parchment in front of their trembling eyestalks and other assorted sensory organs. ‘Oregon University Safe Summons List’ it said, on top of the document.

The Skeleton Bug swallowed. “And… the other choice?”

Alcor smiled. Or showed his teeth, at least, all several rows of them. “The other is me.”

 ~The End~

#transcendence au #fic: not what he seems #alcor the dreambender #thomas strange #the demonology gang #elisha mckenzie #various demons

[princess-schez]

Fic: Sweet Dreams, Beautiful Nightmare - Chapter 7

Warnings: Some language, and just a short chapter overall. (Sorry) Genre: Bill Cipher/Reader fanfic Summary: The Reader has been plagued by violent nightmares for as long as she can remember. Deciding to move to Oregon for a simpler pace of life, it is there she meets the dream demon himself and begins to unravel a mystery connecting them both. Notes: N/A Fic under cut below.

Chapter 7. “He is very bad news,” Dipper said, waving his hands in emphasis before crossing them over his chest. Mabel, with a dreamy look still in her eyes, stated, "It's adorable that he has a crush on you," as Dipper looked at her skeptically. “All I know, it was just weird as hell,” you said as Dipper and Mabel joined you in your room, sitting on the floor beside the bed. “What else did he say or do?” Dipper asked. You rubbed your neck. “Uh, well, that was it,” you lied. You had purposefully omitted specific details of the encounter with Bill, knowing it wasn’t appropriate for two young teens. “Well, he said ‘those aren’t simply nightmares’ before he left, so I don’t know what to make of that.” The twins looked at you quizzically, and your face felt warm again. “I—I’ve had strange dreams as long as I can remember, and since I first decided to move to Oregon, they’ve only gotten worse. They’re so vivid, and it’s just—” “What are they about?” Mabel asked. “I don’t know. It’s like I’m viewing it from my perspective, but something is off too. Like, I’m not me per se. And there’s usually fire and destruction around me like the world is ending. And I feel like I’m always dying.” The twins shot a worried look at each other before looking at you again, each saddened by your words. “And this one I just had involved some weird deer-headed woman. She killed me in it.” “Huntokar?” Dipper asked. “Yeah!” you replied. “I remember hearing that name, too. Like over and over.” “That is weird,” the boy replied. “Somehow, that monster is tied to you and—” “Ooh, another mystery to solve!” Mabel interjected. “But,” she added, suddenly saddened, “you have to go. Don’t you?” Oh crap, you thought. In everything that had happened in the short time you were here, you quickly forgot that you still needed to get to your destination. “I must admit, I kinda want to figure out what all this means. And I don’t have to leave right away. And only if it’s okay with your grunkles if I stay longer.” “YES!” Mabel fist-pumped the air. Dipper looked happy, but kept his emotions more in check than his sister’s. “I’m sure they wouldn’t have a problem with it,” he laughed. “So, uh, what is the deal with Bill, anyway? Like, what is he exactly?” you asked. The atmosphere’s tone quickly changed from one of fun to one more solemn. You were curious about him. From what you had seen—and experienced firsthand—he didn’t seem all too bad. Besides, he was a triangle, for fuck’s sake; how bad could he be? The twins shot another look at one another. “Bill... Bill is a demon,” Dipper replied. “A terrible and very powerful one at that.” “A what?” “A demon.” You raised an eyebrow, not expecting that response at all. A demon? You thought demons were just stories meant to scare people, not sentient beings in the shape of a geometry problem. But as it was, you now had one very powerful, evil demon that was also hella horny for you out and about in the world. Yeah. You always were able to attract the weird ones. As you processed this revelation, you watched as Dipper excused himself and came back a moment later carrying three heavy books. Setting them down on the bed next to you, he grabbed one, flipping through the pages until he found what he was looking for. Then, turning the book to you, you saw the page he had opened. A handwritten entry with sketches portraying the triangular demon and the words, “Do not summon at all costs,” was written across the bottom in bold lettering. Worry made your stomach turn as you ran a finger across the splotches that decorated the pages. “What is this?” you asked, taking the book from Dipper to get a better look at it. “Is that... blood?” “They’re journals our Grunkle Ford made, chronicling the weirdness of this town and his encounters with it,” Dipper replied. “This is his entry on Bill Cipher.” “And we’re pretty sure that is blood splatter on it,” his sister added, a look of disgust on her face. “We almost lost these during Weirdmageddon... well, we did lose them; Bill destroyed them. But after we thought Bill was defeated and everything went back to normal, the journals came back again.” Your eyes scanned over the pages, hardly believing it. You flipped through the journal, each section stranger than the last. Gnomes. Zombies. Demons. A cold feeling settled over you as you handed it back to Dipper. This demon seemed to know something about you you didn’t. And that worried you because it also somehow tied into this other monster, Huntokar. “What do you think he wants with me?” you asked, trying to keep the nerves out of your voice. “Don’t know. Bill always has an angle,” Dipper replied, a slight smile pulling on his mouth at the pun. “But Bill can’t be trusted. That we know for sure.” “I’m not gonna lie; I’m scared of what this all means and how it’s connected to me.” The twins quickly hugged you, and you were grateful for it. Despite having known them for only a short time, you felt as if you knew them forever. “We’ll figure this out,” Mabel said comfortingly, pulling away to look at you. Her eyes sparkled with confidence and enthusiasm. “Thanks.” You ruffled up her hair a bit. From downstairs, you heard their Grunkle Ford calling up to them. “Do you guys wanna go out for lunch?” “YES!” they yelled back.“We’ll explain Weirdmageddon to you at the restaurant,” Dipper added. “And we can ask them about you staying longer.” “Okay, cool,” you replied as you followed the kids down the stairs. ____ AO3 / Wattpad Chapter 6 / Chapter 8

#bill cipher x reader #bill cipher #gravity falls #fanfic #fan fic #my fanfic #my writing

[fallen-gravity]

Aftermath

A whole summer later, and Mabel's still having nightmares about being trapped in her bubble. One unfortunate morning, Ford just happens to be the one who overhears her crying in her sleep.

Notes:

A huge, huge shout out to @ariasofelegance

A little white ago I reblogged a silly post that said something like "come into my inbox and tell me what my writing brand is", and without hesitating she dragged me into the dirt. Got me so on the nose that it backfired and whoops, I wanted to write it.

Said ask can be found here

Hope you’re happy with the results, Rin ;)

AO3

It’s the sound of sugary pop music seemingly wafting in through her bedroom window that wakes Mabel first. She assumes it’s just an alarm she doesn’t remember setting, and frantically waves her arm out for her nightstand so she can turn it off and go back to sleep for another minute or ten.

Then it’s the fact that her hand smacks something that squeaks, and okay, maybe Waddles accidentally left one of his toys in her room. He’s got plenty, so she can shrug off that as long as it’s not his favorite then he can go another few minutes without it. She’ll bring it downstairs to him when she wakes up, or if Dipper rises before her he can bring it downstairs instead.

It’s fine. She can brush those things off, and to prove it to herself she turns over on her other side and brings her blanket up to cover her ears. If anyone needs her they’re gonna have to climb the stairs all the way up to the attic and tell her themselves. She smiles to herself at the thought, and settles easily back into her sleep.

It doesn’t really click that something’s…off until the sun shines in through her window. Despite knowing that she’s facing away from her window, the sunlight still pierces through Mabel’s blanket and lands right into her eyes. Even for the mid-summer Oregon sun she’s gotten accustomed to, it’s uncomfortably warm and unreasonably bright for so early in the morning.

…Stranger still, she’s sure that Dipper would’ve already complained about it before she did, or at the very least, she’s sure she already would’ve heard him shuffling around the room by now.

Mabel takes it to mean that he must already be awake and downstairs, and groans. It still doesn’t explain why the sun is so painful in her eyes, but she guesses that could be a result of her sleeping in later than she’s used to.

“Alright, universe, you got me” Mabel mumbles, and stretches as she finally pushes herself into a sitting position. Opening her eyes is a bit tougher with the sun still harshly shining into them, but it’s manageable, and…

…This doesn’t look like the attic.

She attempts to rub the sleep out of her eyes, in case she’s still not fully awake yet, but no, the image in front of her still doesn’t change. She’s about to try standing up to see if walking around will help snap her out of her haze, but before she can even kick her feet over the edge her bedroom door swings open.

“Oh, thank goodness!” Mabel sighs. “Can you close the window? I can’t see a thing”

“Sure thing, Miss Mabel!” a cheery voice that is decidedly not Dipper’s replies, and with a snap of their fingers the lights go out. Now that her eyes finally adjust, Mabel’s able to glance around her room, and…

Oh no.

Oh no no no no no no no.

There are stone statues of her face in every corner of her room, piles of rainbow plushies stacked all over the floor, a collage of sweaters all over the wall, inflatable furniture scattered everywhere, and most notably, a large rug with a bright shooting star embroidered into the center.

“Miss Mabel?” the strange voice asks again, and a bright pink hippo steps into view towards her bed. “Is everything okay?”

Mabel frantically scoots backwards in her strange bed. “Stay back!” she tries to shout, but everything comes out as more of a panicked waver. “Stay back or I’ll grapple hook you in the face!” she frantically pats all around her body for any sign of her trusty weapon.

The hippo tilts its head in confusion, a squeak emerging from it. “Oh, Miss Mabel, you’re a riot! Don’t you remember?”

Mabel freezes in her frantic patting. “Remember what?”

The strange hippo laughs. “Our volleyball match! You promised you’d play with me, but then you took a suuuper long nap instead!”

Mabel shakes her head. It can’t be. It can’t be. She knows Dipper already came to rescue her, she knows they already took the bus back to Piedmont together, she knows they promised to stick together through thick and thin.

Or…did they? What if that was all part of this sick fantasy too? What if Bill just made her believe that Dipper came to her aid, when he’s actually been captured, or hurt, or worse, and Bill is still pacifying her for as long as he can to keep Weirdmageddon going?

She can’t breathe. She tugs at the collar of her turtleneck, but that only makes things worse, because it’s not until she notices the hot pink of her collar that she realizes she’s wearing her shooting star sweater. She wants to rip it off and claw at it until it comes apart thread by thread.

“M-Miss Mabel?”

She has to get out of here.

“Of course!” she replies, just to avoid suspicion. “Let’s go play some volleyball!” She claps loudly, and the pink hippo grins, seemingly unfazed by her behavior.

“Great!” it beams, and bounces happily out the door. Mabel follows more slowly, casting nervous glances everywhere she looks for any signs of creeping yellow eyes.

“Oh, shoot!” the hippo shouts once they’re outside, and Mabel nearly jumps a mile out of her skin.

“What is it?”

“We don’t have enough players,” the hippo pouts. “I can go see if I can find anyone who-”

“No!” Mabel shouts, and a few beachgoers freeze to cast glances her way. She blushes, and tries again. “I...I mean, we could always get my brother to play with us! Where’s my good ol’ twin brother?”

For the briefest of moments the hippo’s eyes flash yellow, but they’re back to normal just as quickly.

“Over here, sis!” Dippy Fresh waves, approaching them on his skateboard.

Mabel steps back, shaking her head. “Where’s my real twin brother?”

The crowd of beachgoers begins murmuring uncomfortably to each other.

“Aww, c’mon sis, don’t be like that!” he grins, jumping off of his skateboard and taking a step closer.

“You’re not my real brother” she hisses. “None of this is real! I know it isn’t!”

She’s shouting now, but she doesn’t care. “Come out and face me yourself, Bill! I know you’re out there! I don’t want to take part in this sick fantasy anymore!”

Everyone around her gasps, and between one breath and the next she’s painfully tackled to the ground.

“Mabel Pines!” an unfamiliar voice shouts, mixed seamlessly with the shrill echo of Bill’s. “Not only have you broken the one and only law of Mabeland, you have also spoke up in defiance of Bill Cipher, the true creator of this land. A simple court trial will not be enough. For these transgressions, you will be taken straight to the Fearamid for proper punishment”.

Mabel’s face pales. “W-wait! I was only just kidding!” She pleas, but a strong pair of arms is already lifting her into the air. She kicks and thrashes, but no matter how much she fights back, more pairs of hands seem to grab onto her and keep her in place.

“No!” she shouts. “I’m sorry! I won’t do it again, I promise! I’ll do anything you guys want! I’ll never leave you again!”

“It’s too late!” Bill’s voice finally separates itself from the crowd, and he manifests himself in front of her. He lifts her into the air, and she starts thrashing even harder, but nothing she’s doing is working to free herself from her grip.

At the very back of her mind, she thinks she can hear someone shouting her name. But she’s sure that’s all just part of the illusion, that Bill’s using the sound of her own family against her to torture her one last time before she never sees them again, and-

Something brushes against her forehead.

Something soft, and warm, and comforting, and so humanlike compared to everything else around her that it’s enough to make the every single aspect of the illusion disappear into thin air all at once, even Bill himself.

Everything’s black, and then, with a blink of her eyes, she’s staring into Ford’s eyes, soft and loving and pooling with worry. It doesn’t take long for her to piece together that it’s his hand on her forehead.

“Mabel?” he asks, and she realizes quickly that it had been his voice shouting her name in the bubble.

She gasps, bolting upright, and does her best to recover her breathing. Ford doges out of the way to avoid smacking heads, but stays right where he is beside her, rubbing soothing little circles into her back.

Her throat hurts. She must’ve been shouting in her sleep. She wants to cry, but she can’t even do that right, because  the moment a sob tries to escape her throat her chest feels like it’s closing up, and she can’t take a breath anymore, no matter how much air she inhales.

“It’s okay,” Ford whispers to her. “Deep breaths”

Mabel shakes her head. “I…I can’t”

“Yes you can,” he replies, firmly but kindly. He scooches closer to her, slowly as not to re-startle her. “Mabel, look at me”

She does. His eyes are so soft, conveying so many grounding, human emotions that the single moment of eye contact alone is almost enough to completely ground her back to reality. “You’re okay,” he murmurs, once she’s finally able to maintain eye contact without her eyes trembling. “You’re awake, I promise” he offers his hands out to her. “Reach out and squeeze my hands if you need to, but I promise that I really am right here”

Mabel reaches out and takes his hands in her own. They’re so much bigger than hers, and they’re rough with calluses and there’s quill ink stuck under his nails, but they’re so comfortably the hands of her great uncle, all the way down to the extra sixth finger on each hand that the sob stuck in her throat finally breaks its way through. He’s not just another illusion, he’s not a perfect copy that Bill sent to keep her complacent, he’s just…Grunkle Ford.

Mabel throws herself into his arms as her sobs overwhelm her small body. She buries her face into the collar of his turtleneck, and forces her eyes to focus on a little loose strand sticking out at the back of his neck. It’s just a tiny little imperfect detail that could easily be snipped or sewn back into place, but a little imperfection like that to let her know she’s home is more comforting than she’s willing to admit.

Ford wraps his arms around her and holds her closely. He gently runs a hand through her hair, whispering I know and it’s okay over and over again into her hair, and she just buries her whole face into the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of coffee and ash and ink coming from his sweater like it’s a lifeline.

She stays in his embrace until her sobs finally calm, and they pull away gently. She wipes at her nose with her wrist.

“I’m sorry”

Ford shakes his head. “You’ve got nothing to apologize for, dear. I know firsthand just how awful it feels to suffer through a panic attack alone”.

Alone?

She glances to the other side of the bedroom, and finds Dipper’s bed empty. Her heart drops to her stomach. “Wh-where’s..?” she starts, but Ford places a gentle hand on her shoulder before she can finish that train of thought.

“Dipper’s okay, he’s outside with Soos”

“Grunkle Stan?”

“He ran out to the store, but he’s okay too”  

Mabel buries her face into her hands. “You didn’t…come in here because you could hear me from downstairs, did you?”

Ford shakes his head, a fond smile itching to spread across his face. “I came upstairs when I’d heard you were still asleep and didn’t want my favorite niece to miss out on such a beautiful morning,” he pauses, the smile on his face vanishing just as quickly as it had appeared. “But then when I came in to wake you up, you looked like you were having a panic attack in your sleep, and…” his voice trails off. “You started…crying out names.” He winds a protective arm around her shoulder, and gently squeezes her arm. “I’d never want to make you recount something so awful, but if you want to talk about it, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon”

Mabel sighs. It isn’t even close to being the first dream she’s had about the bubble, so she should be used to all of these strange feelings by now. But this particular dream felt the most based in reality, and it’s the first time Bill’s actually shown up and threatened to hurt her to her face.

She returns his gesture, winding an arm around Ford’s back and giving his arm a gentle squeeze. She scooches just a tiny bit closer to him and rests her head on his shoulder. “I…” she begins, squeezing her eyes shut to brace herself. “I was trapped in Mabeland again. Except it wasn’t like all the other times I’ve had nightmares about it where I knew something was off and I hit the ground running as soon as I realized where I was, it was more like…I felt like I’d always been there.”

With her free hand, Mabel brings the collar of her sweater all the way up to her nose. Anything to distract her from her uncle’s worried expression burning into her. “It was like everything we did last summer was for nothing. I woke up in my bed in the castle, and everyone was acting like it was peachy keen. I tried asking someone about where Dipper was, just for some sense of normalcy, but all that did was summon that dumb clone Mabeland created of him so I wouldn’t get too lonely. I know it’s dumb, but the whole thing just felt…too real. Like I was still stuck there, and the apocalypse was still going on out here, and the whole rescue mission was just a sick dream that Bill put in my head to trick me into believing everything was okay”

Mabel squishes her face into Ford’s sweater and just forces herself to focus on his scent, on the soft material of his sweater, on the gentle pattern of his breathing. “Everything was ripped away from me, Grunkle Ford, and I couldn’t do a thing about it. I tried speaking up for myself, but that only made things worse, because Bill showed up, and he-”

She’s suddenly painfully aware that she’s trembling again, and can’t help the tears building in her eyes. She tries burying her face even further into Ford’s sweater to collect herself and keep going, but before she can she feels Ford’s hand at the back of her head, gently holding her in place as she cries.

“It’s okay,” he tells her, his voice a soothing presence among her racing thoughts. “You don’t have to keep going.” He’s back to gently petting her hair, and the gesture is consistent and familiar enough to ease Mabel’s crying. “I’m so sorry that you’re still having nightmares about this”.

“It’s okay,” she sniffles, and finally finds the strength to pull herself away from his sweater. “It’s not your fault”, she says, and her eyes drop to the hardwood floor of her bedroom. “I’m just so scared, Grunkle Ford.” She grips onto the edges of her skirt. “I know that I shouldn’t be, because I know Bill’s been gone for a year and I know everything’s okay now, but I just can’t help but feel that everything’s not.”

Ford nods solemnly, and for a moment he doesn’t respond, until he shifts in his sitting position so he’s facing directly towards Mabel rather than beside her. “Mabel, may I show you something?”

Mabel blinks, her head tilting slightly in confusion. “Sure, Grunkle Ford, what is it?”

Ford rolls the sleeves of his turtleneck up to his elbows. His wrists are covered in faded white slits, and the rest of his arms are covered in burn scars, scratches, gashes, and decades-old bruises that never healed properly. Some of them are still red and blistering, and others look so faded that she could just as easily mistake them for birthmarks.

It hurts Mabel’s heart just to look at them. Her hands hover cautiously over them, and she glances at the wonderful great uncle that they’re attached to. “C-can I…?”

He nods. “Sure.”

Mabel gently runs her fingers along each of them so lightly that it’s almost as if she isn’t touching them at all. She knows that he’d been hurt in the past, and she knows that it couldn’t have been easy roughing it out in the multiverse for thirty consecutive years, but it breaks her heart to see the evidence of it all up close.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ford sighs, cutting into her thoughts. “But most of these don’t come from the portal” he pauses to rub at the back of his head. “Or, rather, they do, but not in the way that you probably think”

Mabel pauses. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…sometime after Bill betrayed my trust, but before I was able to get the metal plate in my head to keep him out, he’d take advantage of our deal that let him into my mind whenever he pleased,” he taps at his forehead. “He was furious that I shut down the portal, so any time I fell asleep he’d use the opportunity to hurt me as much as he could. He never wanted to kill me because he was convinced I’d change my mind in due time, but he felt the need to torture me so I’d never act against him again. He’d slit my wrists, he’d burn me, he’d do just about everything he could to make sure I could feel the repercussions of his actions when I woke up.” He rubs awkwardly at the back of his head. “Thankfully he was never able to break a bone before I woke up in time to stop him, but…” he trails off, and for the briefest of moments he looks as though he’s lost in thought.

“I’m getting ahead of myself,” Ford blushes, snapping himself from his own thoughts before Mabel has any time to ask if he’s okay. “The point is,” he says, “Just because you know he’s gone now doesn’t mean that he never hurt you. Your nightmares are your scars, and they’re just as real as the scars under my sweater.”

Mabel wants to respond with a proper thank you, because she’s genuinely touched by the validation, but there’s a part of her that just can’t move past all the gashes and scars on Ford’s arms. She knows she’s seen similar cuts elsewhere, maybe not nearly as dire, but she knows in the back of her mind that’s just because she was just barely able to stop them from becoming much, much worse.

“I don’t think it’s just the nightmares” she mumbles, just barely loud enough for Ford to hear.

“Hmm?” Ford hums. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…” Mabel runs two fingers gently around the white scars on Ford’s wrist. “I don’t think it’s just that he hurt me, I think it’s that he hurt a lot of people that I love, too.” She shakes her head. “I know there isn’t a lot I could’ve done to prevent it, but…I was so oblivious to it, Grunkle Ford. I had no idea he was hurting so many people until it was almost too late”.

She keeps rubbing gentle circles into his wrist, like she can make the scars and all of the memories of the pain he went through vanish into thin air with her loving touch alone. “Dipper’s got these scars too. I know he’s okay now, but…” the sigh that escapes her is broken and shaky. “I know that much worse things could’ve happened to him, too”.

Ford frowns. “He…did tell me about being possessed, yes. But he also told me that he couldn’t have gotten his body back without your help. Bill’s a master at trickery, Mabel, it’s not your fault you couldn’t recognize him in Dipper’s body”.

…But she also knows that the reason Dipper was possessed in the first place is because he was up all night trying to crack a code that she told him she’d help him with, and she also knows that if she found out that it wasn’t Dipper controlling his body until it was too late, then…

“He wrote a letter”

The words slip out of her mouth before she can stop herself, and she slaps her hand over her mouth, tears building in her eyes again.

“Who did?” The soft smile slips off of Ford’s face. “Dipper?”

Mabel shakes her head. “Bill wrote a letter when he was still in possession of Dipper’s body. I’ve never shown it to Dipper before because I didn’t wanna freak him out, but I just…couldn’t bring myself to throw it away, because I was so afraid that if I did, Bill was going to find out, and wait until the moment my back was turned so he could…” her voice trails off, and she can’t finish the sentence no matter how badly she needs to get it off of her chest.

“Mabel?” Ford asks, his voice dripping with worry.

She shakes her head, and hops down from her bed to reach underneath. She grabs a seemingly useless crumped up piece of paper, and carefully unfolds it and pats down all the wrinkles before she offers it to Ford. “Before he could do this,” she replies, her voice barely rising above a whisper.

Ford takes the letter from her, and Mabel takes her seat back on the bed beside him. All she can bring herself to do is just watch as Ford’s expression becomes more and more horrified as he reads further down the letter, and the hurt in his eyes when he looks into hers when he finishes reading is palpable.

“I’m scared, Grunkle Ford” she repeats, her mouth continuing to speak before her brain can stop her. “I know Bill’s gone for good, but how can I be so sure that everything’s okay when I know that this is what he could’ve done to my brother?”

For a few painfully short moments Ford says nothing. Mabel’s sure he’s at a loss of words, or that it was a mistake showing him the letter because he’s freaking out now too, but much to her surprise  Ford’s next move is pulling her into his arms again and hugging her so tightly it’s as if he never wants to let go again.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs into her hair, but doesn’t give her enough time to respond before he keeps going. “Mabel, I’m so sorry you’ve been burdened with this. You’re the last person I would ever wish to feel so unsafe that you can’t even trust the quiet moments.”

His breathing sounds broken and shaky, but if he’s tearing up at all he’s doing a really good job at hiding it.  “You don’t deserve any of this. You’re too young to feel like you have any responsibilities over anyone’s life or death. I’m so sorry that he made you feel this way”

She knows he’s not the kind of person to use his words carelessly. She knows that he’s phrasing it this way because he recognizes his own behavior in her. She doesn’t respond verbally, but she reciprocates the hug best she can, and a heavy sigh escapes Ford when she does. They stay there in silence for a few short minutes, just reveling in the comfort and safety of the other’s arms.

When they finally pull away, Ford seems to have gathered his composure again.

“I promise, Mabel” he takes one of her hands into his own. “I promise you that he’s gone. He can never hurt you or me or Dipper or Stan ever again. It doesn’t mean he hasn’t, and it doesn’t mean that recovering from that sort of pain will be easy, but if there’s anything I know for sure, it’s that he’s never showing his face here again”.

Mabel finally crumbles in his arms. She’s sobbing again, but it’s a cathartic kind of sob, and she’s gripping onto Ford’s shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping her together.

“And even if he does, I know just the grappling hook to scare him away”.

Between her sobs, Mabel can’t help but giggle.

#my writing #gravity falls #ford pines #mabel pines #sweater twins #mystery twins