Bill Cipher X Reader - Liar's Light [Chapter 1]

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RAAAHHHHH THE FRICKING PARALLELS!!

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It's too beautiful omg, I noticed it from the very first time I read that part! They called each other brave😭

I'M NEVER GONNA GET TIRED OF SAYING: AMAZING WORK @bapple117 !!! 💜💛💜💛

“JUST FIT IN”

This is based on the colour code that appears when you type in “just fit in” in “this is not a website dot com”

Read the pictures from the bottom up to the tune of “rockabye baby” to cry a little harder yayyy

Am I normal about this???? No??? Will I ever be normal about this ???? No??????

Finally I finished painting the figure...yaaay...it took me a couple of days to paint but it was difficult but I'm glad it's finished

The spring bonding montage has arrived! 🌷

Had a lot of fun making some of these. Hope y’all enjoy! :D

been building a collection of posts from like minded individuals

Weirdmageddon but Bill and the Henchmaniacs aren't trying to terrorize everyone. they just want somewhere new to live and they just casually move in and become part of society

Ford is baffled because everything Bill has said and done has pointed to it being much worse but Bill just says he misinterpreted and Ford really should get better at social cues. He recommends that he gets assessed for autism and Ford goes "you and I both know that wasn't because of autism"

💫If only I can hear it one last time… 🎶✨

Also here's the drawings Bill made

Ad Infinitum, Prologue [Bill Cipher x Reader]

Tags: Fluff and Angst, Angst, Hurt/No comfort, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Short fic, Pre-Gravity Falls, Existential Crisis lol

Concept: The reader is an ambiguous void-like, abyssal god who met Bill Cipher in the Nightmare realm. Pre-Gravity Falls timeline!

Prologue

*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ

You were destruction and he was creation. He was light where you were darkness.

Or something corny like that.

Time and space held no meaning here, in the Nightmare Realm. Really, what could be consider a nap could be the death and birth of many planets. You can't remember the last time a living being graced your part of the void. Then again, no one really liked living near a blackhole like you did. This was all you've ever known. You were born in the void, existed within it, and slept within the confines of its emptiness.

Until one day, a bright yellow light entered your life.

He wasn't the first entity to wander into this abyss, but he was the first to greet you with no ill intent. He came one night, in a brilliant blue light, flames licking his frame as he entered into existence, here. A single, dark eye opened before you.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"Dimension 5150-B," you softly answered.

The nightmare realm's cosmic garbage dump, really. Where all things end.

He tilted his head, his eye crinkling in curiosity, then delight.

"Well, this place sucks. Time to liven it up!"

With a snap of his fingers, the darkness around you warped and shuddered. The darkness gave way to light, then, became filled with life.

Suddenly, the void was filled with stars, planets, moons, and suns. Oceans of them rippled through the sky in waves. Since then, you stopped feeling so alone. The silence was replaced with the sounds of life. Illusions of places and things you've never seen before danced all around you. In no time, the void was filled with his jovial voice and your soft laughter.

Bill Cipher never ran out of things to say to fill the silence. Spinning tales and coaxing laughter out of you. He always had something new to share with you. He enjoyed the way you listened with rapt attention as he weaved tale after tale for both of your amusement.

Some days, he'll tell you of a world different than the one you were bound in. A dimension beyond your understanding, full of colors you've yet to see. Full of people who spoke languages you've never heard before. Planets that survive off only one moon, stars that grow and become planets. Worlds that endure despite having collapsing suns, darker nights, and billions of people.

Other days, he'd tell you of his home.

But those stories, they never stayed.

Those stories escaped you like sand through your fingers. Tragic as they were, your mind would fight to hold onto them. You never understood why, but they always fade as soon as Bill's voice would turn quiet and small. He'd look away and it would be as if the moment never happened.

Sadness didn't fit Bill's bright yellow colors, you thought. You'd spend the rest of eternity making sure he was happy if you had to!

It was your silent vow.

*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──*✧･ﾟ

Up above, the endless blanket of stars watched as you and Bill sat next to each other.

You held your breath as a golden glow washed across the barren rock around you. From underneath the earth, tendrils of black twirled upwards. They writhed each curling into a small, black bulb.

Bill always had an affinity for creation- or weirdness, as he called it.

Where he breathed life and curiosities into the nightmare realm, you were the abyss that hungrily consumed it all.

You watched with bated breath as the flowers around you swayed gently. Bill watched with an upturned eye as he theatrically flicked his wrist towards the field.

One by one, the bulbs unfurled, blooming into delicate black petals that glistened faintly with impossible colors. You smiled as the last one slowly opened before you.

"Go on, take it, it's yours!"

Yours.

The words echoed in your mind as you reached for a flower. It seemed to sigh and wilt slightly as you plucked it off the ground.

With care, you brushed the pads of your fingers over its petals. It was unlike anything you've seen before.

However, it soon crumbled and turned into ash the moment you touched its stem.

You pulled your hand back as the ash fell through your fingers. Bill plucked another flower from the ground and held it out to you, his single eye crinkled in amusement. He held it close to your face for you to admire.

Something in you melted at the gesture.

Bill brought so much more than life to the Nightmare realm. With him came warmth and laughter.

He told you of impossible futures, dreams, and nightmares beyond the veil of the world you two were in. You shared in his dream of breaching that veil and existing where there was natural light and more people.

He loved to shower you with gifts like this. You happily accepted all of it, cherishing these tiny gestures from a friend.

Like clockwork, you two would meet in this barren little rock you found in the Nightmare realm. Sharing stories and secrets. Mapping out unnamed constellations and writing your name in the stars- sometimes literally!

Bill moved heaven and earth for you, and you reveled in this. Your heart fluttered every time he used his all-seeing eye to describe beautiful places for you. You memorized the way his black hands would cradle stars and move them in the shape of your name in the sky.

You wouldn't trade this for the world, being beside your best friend in a lonely, unforgiving dimension. A part of you hoped Bill felt the same warmth in your chest you felt when he was around.

You didn't realize you would have to give it all up someday.

You'd look back and realize that this was the last gesture of kindness Bill Cipher would show you for a very, very long time.

He disappeared one day, taking all the light with him.

Time mercilessly passed in cold, breathless, silence.

Until one day, he came back.

No longer the same friend you knew before.

Hi!! I love your writing!!!!! Could I request some totally self indulgent headcanons or a small Drabble/fic? Ford x reader on their birthday! It’s my birthday in a few weeks and I just really want my fictional man there 😭😂 but I thought I’d ask early in case your inbox was full! Thank you! ❤️

when the scientist loves you | Ford Pines x reader

hii angel, happy birthday!! ♡ i hope your day is as lovely as you are, may this year bring you endless inspiration, happy moments and everything your heart desires! ♡ ♡ ♡

tags: birthday, fluff, sfw, established relationship

Ford's voice carries softly from the kitchen, muttering as he reads measurements off an old recipe card. You sit at the table, watching the back of his head tilt toward the stovetop. The apron Mabel gave him, the one with "may the fork be with you" scribbled across the front in obnoxious block letters, look ridiculously cute tied over his sweater.

“You look very dignified in that, professor,” you tease, propping your chin on your hand.

Ford turns his head to shoot you a dry look, though there’s a tug of amusement at the corner of his mouth. “Sweetheart, you know, my culinary doctorate doesn’t let me cook in anything else.” he teases you back.

You laugh and Ford straightens a little, pushing his glasses up his nose with the back of his wrist.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you look at the table where a neatly folded napkin waits beside a single glass of wine. “it’s just a birthday.”

He glances over his shoulder, his face expression changes into serious one. “Just a birthday?” he repeats incredulously. “this is the day the universe decided to grace existence with you. The fact that you think it’s ‘just’ anything is absurd.”

You're staring at him in silence right now because, to be honest, you can't find the right words to respond to such a compliment. And as if satisfied with your surprised cute face, Ford turns back to the stovetop, missing the way your lips press together to suppress a smile.

“Besides,” he adds, stirring whatever’s in the pan, “i’ve run calculations. The probability of me burning this is well below fifteen percent.”

“Comforting.” your answer makes Stanford smirk, but he keeps his focus on his work.

Minutes later, he places the plate in front of you with both satisfaction and concern on his face. “honesty, no pressure, but if it’s terrible, i might die of shame. . .”

You roll your eyes at your husband because how does a man that smart always doubt and criticize himself?

Taking a bite, your lips turn into smile, the taste becomes warm and pleasant, pulling a hum of approval from your chest. “Ford, this is amazing?”

He exhales with relief and pulls out the chair beside you. “Good, i wasn’t sure if the seasoning would—”

“You’re incredible,” you interrupt and Ford stops mid-sentence as the tips of his ears turn red.

“Believe me, my love, you deserve nothing less.”

You eat together and at one point, he picks up the fork himself, offering you another bite. Once the plates are cleared, he stands abruptly, holding out his hand. “Lets go, sweetheart.”

“Where?” you ask, letting him pull you to your feet.

“You’ll see.” you barely have time to grab your coat before he’s leading you toward the door. His six fingered hand feels so warm in yours as you step outside into the cool air. “Close your eyes,” he says, and when you hesitate, he squeezes your hand. “trust me.”

You huff but obey, curling your fingers against his. Ford proudly guides you through the woods as he starts talking enthusiastically. “You know, if we were walking blindfolded through the quantum multiverse instead of this forest, you’d have a thirty-five percent chance of stepping into a dimension where time runs backward.”

You grin, keeping your eyes closed. “Fascinating.” you're parodying his catchphrase. “should i be worried about that here?”

“Unlikely,” he deadpans, though you can hear the smirk in his tone. “but if you hear an oscillating sound, let me know immediately.”

You laugh, squeezing his hand. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously well-prepared.” some minutes later the ground beneath your feet changes texture, the soft crunch of dirt giving way to grass, and Ford’s pace slows.

“Are we there yet?” you ask impatiently.

“Almost, darling. Okay, stop. You can open your eyes.” you hesitate, preparing yourself before letting your eyelids flutter open. The sight in front of you makes you gasp.

Ahead of you, nestled in the clearing, is a flower that glows, it's long and translucent petals, curved outward, are made of the thinnest glass. Luminous veins, similar in color to silver, pulsate through them. The center shimmers with different colors, like the aurora borealis trapped in a single bloom.

“Ford. . .” you take a step forward, the damp grass pressing under your shoes, but you can’t look away. You turn your head slightly, glancing at him. Ford is staring at the flower too, the bright light from the flower is reflected in his glasses, but his expression isn’t the detached curiosity he usually wears while talking about his discoveries. It’s different now, gentler.

“A luminaria eximia,” Ford explains, predicting your question. “it’s rare, very rare, it only blooms under specific conditions.”

“You brought me here to see this?”

“Of course,” he replies with intonation as if the question confuses him. “you deserve extraordinary things.”

Your chest tightens and the tears you’ve been holding back sting at the edges of your vision. You don’t want him to see, don’t want to ruin the moment with your sudden wave of overwhelming emotion, so you turn away and close the space between you and him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pressing your face into his chest.

Ford stiffens, caught off guard by your reaction. Did he do something wrong? That's his first reaction, worry and concern for you, but then he relaxes, settling his hands settling your back, hugging you too. The time he spent with you made him know exactly what to do without you needing to ask and explain.

“Hey, hey,” he says gently, leaning down. “now what’s this?”

You shake your head, tightening your arms around him. “You—” you hate how your voice trembles, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

Ford chuckles. “sweetheart, of course i did, i wanted to.”

You lift your head slightly, still not letting him see your face, and his hand moves to your chin, tilting it upward until you have no choice but to meet his attentive gaze.

“You deserve this,” his thumb brushes a stray tear from your cheek. “you deserve everything.” his words unravel you completely and he must see it because his brows knit together with concern before softening again. His six-fingered hands cup your face gently, treating you like his precious artifact he’s vowed to protect. “you mean so much to me, i don’t know how else to say it except—”

But you don’t let him finish. You lean up, standing on your toes to close the small distance between you, and kiss him. The first reason is just because you want to, and the second is because that smartass needs to shut up with his touching speeches before you flood the whole field with your tears. Ford freezes for a moment, startled, but then his hands find your face and he deepens it carefully, afraid of breaking the moment.

You don’t know how long you stay like that because you're ready to spend eternity with his lips on yours, kissing you slowly, so sensually, softly, so damn tenderly, trying to memorize the shape of your mouth while his thumbs moving in slow arcs over your cheeks.

When you finally pull back, his hair ruffled from your hands, Ford looks at you as though you’ve just rewritten the laws of the universe. “oh, you really do have a way of surprising me.” he raises his eyebrows.

“Takes one to know one,” the corner of your mouth lifting as you run your finger over his jawline.

He laughs at that and after one last lingering glance at the luminous flower, he takes your hand again. “come on,” his voice changes into more teasing. “i haven’t even given you your present yet.”

“This wasn’t it?” you ask, gesturing back toward the flower as he starts to lead you out of the clearing.

“No, this was. . . an extra. A bonus, if you will.”

“Ah, an extra,” you repeat teasingly. “you’re ridiculous, Stanford Pines.”

“You already said that.”

By the time you step inside the Mystery Shack, the lingering chill of the evening has melted away. The warm glow of the lamps greets you and Ford’s hand lingers on yours before he releases it. He takes off his coat and drapes it over the back of a chair. You follow suit, watching as he rubs his hands together nervously, before giving you a soft lopsided smile.

“Wait here for a moment!” and though you’re still glowing from the earlier surprises, his tone piques your curiosity again. He disappears, leaving you standing there, before you can ask any questions.

When your husband returns, he’s holding a small wooden box, polished as though he carved it himself. Its edges are rounded and there’s a mark burned into the top: his initials, alongside yours.

“This,” and for all his brilliance, his voice sounds so nervous as he holds it out to you. “this is for. . . you.”

You take the box carefully and lift the lid. Inside, on a piece of dark fabric, is a necklace. No, calling it a necklace doesn’t do it justice. It’s far more otherworldly, the pendant a swirling prism of beautiful colors that change, reminding you of the starlight caught in a bottle.

You stare at it, not daring to find the words.

“It’s called a crystallite shard,” Ford explains again. “i found it on one of my expeditions. It only exists in one dimension and it’s said to reflect the thoughts of the person wearing it. Not their memories exactly, but their essence, in a way.”

You look up at him, wide-eyed. “Ford. . .”

“I thought,” he continues, “that if anyone deserved to have something so unique and unrepeatable, it would be you.”

You’re speechless, brushing your finger over the pendant as it gleams under the light of the Mystery Shack.

And before you can say something, ”b-but that’s not all,” Ford gestures to the box. You tilt it slightly and see another layer beneath the fabric: a small, intricately detailed wooden charm, shaped like a constellation. More simple compared to the necklace, but so beautiful in its own way.

“I carved that,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s. . . it’s the constellation we saw the first time we stargazed together. I wanted you to have something from me, personally.”

Your heart swells and before he can say anything else, you throw your arms around his neck, clutching him tightly. “Ford, you didn’t have to. This is. . . this is so perfect.”

Stanford smiles softly, wrapping his arms around you. “you deserve perfect,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “you deserve more than I could ever give, darling.”

“This is more than enough,” you pull back to look into his eyes.

Ford akes the necklace from the box. “May i?” what a damn gentleman, you think and nod, turning around as he drapes it carefully around your neck. When he’s finished, you touch the pendant lightly, marveling at the way it seems to shift with your movements. “It suits you, matches your beautiful eyes.” he just stands there and can't stop admiring you.

You both end up on the couch not long after, wrapped in the softest blanket he could find. Ford's arms wrap tighter around you, pulling you against him. But some time later, blanket is forgotten as his hands desperately, but gently explore every part of you they can reach, your back, your arms, the curve of your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” Ford brushes his lips against your hair. “i hope you know that.”

You laugh. “well, you tell me often enough.”

“Not often enough,” he says firmly, cupping your cheek. “i don’t think i could ever say it enough or show you enough. You're everything i don’t deserve but can’t let go of.”

“Ford—” you start, but he doesn’t let you speak, kissing you, stealing the words from your mouth. Ford tilts your head gently, threading his long fingers into your hair as the kiss grows with aching intensity, damn, he’s been starving for this moment. Your hands find his chest, his shoulders, clutching at him.

“Every time i touch you, i can’t believe you’re real.” he breathes out between kisses, trailing his lips down to your jaw, then your neck. He pauses there, pressing another kiss just below your ear. “your skin,” his hands trace the line of your shoulders. “so warm, i could stay like this forever.”

You can’t even reply, not when he’s kissing you like this, pressing open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck.

Then he leans back only to take your hands in his, bringing them to his lips, kissing each knuckle. “these hands, they’ve done so much. They’ve built a life for us, cared for me in ways i never thought i’d experience again. They’re precious to me.” you bite your lower lip when his mouth finds the delicate skin of your wrists. “and this heart,” he presses his lips where your pulse beats steadily. “so full of love, so generous, i’m in awe of it every single day.”

“So beautiful, every part of you. I could spend a lifetime just looking at you, touching you, loving you. I just love you, love you so much it terrifies me sometimes.”

You can’t find the words to respond, so you just lean into him, burying your face in his neck as he holds you. His hands never stop moving, caressing and holding you, trying to reassure himself that you’re here, that you’re his. Because you damn deserve to be cherished, every inch of you deserves to be kissed, to be loved. And Ford Pines will spend the rest of his life making sure you know that.

“Come here, darling, closer, need you closer,” he pulls you deeper into his embrace, his lips are on you again, kissing your cheeks, your eyelids, the tip of your nose. You giggle when he presses another kiss to your temple, then to your ear. “do you know how long i’ve waited to hold you like this? to touch you, to love you? it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.”

You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, but he doesn’t stop, cradling your face in both hands. “youre extraordinary, every part of you. your mind, your heart, your body. I don’t know how i got so lucky, but i’ll never stop trying to be worthy of you. You're everything to me and i’ll spend every day reminding you of that. Happy birthday, darling, thank you for letting me love you.” Ford kisses you until you’re dizzy, your fingers tangling in his hair as you try to keep up.

we need more asshole!Ford fics. The man has the tendency to be utterly unbearable and pompous, and i fuck with that heavy