I Can Never Leave Tumblr Because After Years Of Sporadic Therapy Utterly Failed To Even Approach The

I can never leave Tumblr because after years of sporadic therapy utterly failed to even approach the core of my problem some random tumblr user was like “I processed my trauma by writing a 10,000 word work of filthy fanfic erotica” and I was like “fuck it I’ve tried everything else” and now I’m 17 chapters and 20,000 words deep into an unpublishable work of obscenity and after careful literary analysis with one of the Beloved Mutuals I have come to some Terrible Revelations about my childhood and may now continue the process of Healing. Where else am I supposed to get this kind of experience. Who does this. Why are we like this. I’m never leaving. I love y’all.

Bill Cipher x Bounty Hunter!Reader Concept

Wherein Bill escaped the Theraprism, and Dimension #5150 sends their best bounty hunter after him. YOU!

But none of them ever expected you to fall in love with him.

The Theraprism was a place built to rehabilitate. But with the Great Axolotl's sudden disappearance, a lot of convicts used the opportunity to slip away and disappear. Among them, was the infamous Bill Cipher.

~~~

You pick up his book after finding the last human who read it. Your mind is hungry for information about him- the first ever convict to escape the Theraprism, a space outside of time, a place of redemption.

How evil and powerful do you have to be to escape such a place?

You convince yourself you're reading it to find out where he is. To know the scale of Bill Cipher's crimes. But deep down, you knew better than that.

It was helpful in tracking the triangle down, but also for entertainment.

"Slow days? Why don't you come on over for a drunk at O'Sadley's, my favorite pub in the entire Rock Bottom Asteroid Belt of the Vicious Spiral Nebula! Their "I'm Fine" juice is guaranteed to keep you coming back."

The book entertains you on a boring day.

"Ever think to yourself, mystery reader, what would happen if two warring planets collided in an epic, world-ending display? Ya ever pick up any romance novels? I'm a sucker for Enemies-to-Lovers fics, myself. So I made two planets kiss once, it was COOL! FIXED THEIR LITTLE WAR PROBLEMS TOO AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

There was a lot of filler pages just filled with "AHAHAHA"s, you noticed.

The contents were indeed disturbing. At least, to a mortal or any normal person. You've seen worse in your line of work, really. But so far, all you saw were funny little stories of mischief and shocking antics. Nothing of a dimension or planet killer.

Perhaps, that was all that he wanted you to see.

"SAY PAL, I KNOW I ASKED YA LIKE A BAJILLION TIMES ALREADY... BUT D'YA WANNA MEET UP FOR A DRINK? I COULD USE A NEW DRINKING BUDDY AFTER THAT LAST ONE GREW A SPINE AND TRIED TO ZAP ME OUT OF EXISTENCE!"

The book spoke to you. Tried to befriend you. You knew deep down it was a ruse, that it was manipulating you. It even asked you to give it some of your blood, once. Ha! No one would ever fall for that. So you decided to take a break from it.

The next time you opened it, the words written there weren't so funny.

"Y'know, I wish I could see the look in your face while you're reading this", the book wrote, its ink fading into splotchy letter.

"Why are you stalling? What's taking so long? Can you really not find me, or is it that...."

A singular, giant eye flashed through the darkened pages of the book, startling you.

"...You're having fun reading my book? You're enjoying my stories, aren't you. Ya sick little freak! We're not so different, you and I."

"You're not as good and moral as you think you are, [REDACTED]."

Upon surrendering the book to the Wardens of the Theraprism, you were tasked with hunting Bill down.

You closed the book after that, heart hammering in your chest. You couldn't look at it for days.

~~~

Shaken yet determined to do your job, you set out after him. It needed to be done, the book was made of lies. The book was made to manipulate the reader.

You needed to do your job, before Bill destroys more lives. You needed to be a Warden, and bring him to justice.

You needed to go back to your monotonous, violent, and bleak life, where all you did was spill blood and-

You needed to find Bill.

He asked you time and time again to have a drink with him.

And you knew just the bar to find him in.

Psst, thanks for reading!

Pitching an idea into the void here. The reader isn't human, still fleshing out what she is. But she is an entity whose SOLE purpose is to be a bounty hunter and warden to the Theraprism.

Nightmare Realm! Bill Cipher X Reader Headcanons

I don't see a lot of reader-insert writing for what Bill was like before the events of gravity falls. I think he'd be wandering the Nightmare realm for a long while, trying to understand how it works.

You remember the day you met Bill. You two are peas in a pod, joined at the hip since then, thick as thieves- sometimes literally! It's rough out here, in the Nightmare Realm.

It was a slow development, eons of keeping each other company and one day, his attitude towards you changed. It happens after you express a desire to leave the realm, to find broader skies and diverse dimensions. He's right there with you, already thinking of a ticket out of here!

You sometimes catch the way his eyes widen with something close to love, yet closer to obsession when he sees you fight your way out of a sticky situation. It was an intensity that would make the devil blush.

He'll give ya anything you want. A puppy? Sure! He'll make it rain puppies. They'll have an extra set of eyes or limbs, but that's close enough right?

Flowers? He actually paid attention this time and MADE you ones you like- plucked straight from the mindscape of the world's best florists. They're just as cute, fragile, and breakable as you! So what if they screamed and sprouted eyes?

Bill would never admit that he grows softer by the day with how you look at him, marvel at his powers and being with those wide, sparkling eyes of yours.

When you aren't looking, Bill makes sure to check on those flowers. With a snap of his fingers, he'd force life into them, making sure they never wilt.

In a world full of opportunistic and truly desperate dregs of what used to be people, he made sure to keep your light alive. The nightmare realm feared Bill, he'd keep you were safe.

He makes a ukulele from the hair of whoever wronged you- stringed intricately to it WHILE their streaming head is still attached to the instrument! It makes for interesting back-up vocals. He'd sing you a happy, whimsical little serenade he heard on Earth once.

He's make sure to zip up the mouths of anyone who talked badly of you- literally! Sometimes you come across those random people around the nightmare realm, still unable to run their mouths.

He stopped a comet for you, just so you can cross the asteroid belt towards your favorite interdimexican joint.

And if the line was long, he'd get rid of whoever's ahead of you with a snap- they'd turn into silly string or balloons.

Of course, he'd turn them back to normal at your behest. He listens to you! Sometimes.

Bill is much more sappy than you give him credit for. He will deny it till his dying breath. It just looks… different than what mortals would call romance.

He painted the black canvas of the void with stars, comets, suns and moons for your amusement. He loves making them dance and spell out your name. Really extra, but Bill's all for big displays of affection!

He’ll poke fun at how dumb and easily amused you are, but if you see past his scathing banter, you'll see how his eye softens and gazes at you with an other-worldly fondness. Closer to obsession, really- but tom-ay-to, to-mah-to.

He'll never admit it, but he absolutely melts when you call him yours. Some other nicknames that would make him feel like putty would be Sweetheart, honey, light of my never-ending-all-consuming-void.

But of course, he won't say no if you started calling him by his REAL name. The one that would scramble your mind, melt your ears off your face, and vaporize you into nothing but atomic dust.

Just kidding. He won't tell you what it is. Depending on whether or not you're mortal, he'd never risk your well-being like that.

Much.

He will always praise you. For your ups and downs, for your wrongs and rights. He's right there with you, no matter what.

But, he'll get an extra kick out of seeing displays of power from you. Y'know, putting people in their place, defending him from opportunistic bounty hunters. Maybe burning a town or two in his honor, if you lack morals like that! That is H-O-T!

He loves you and his admiration burns. For Bill, love is something close to giving up your entire existence towards each other- in all forms, for all of time.

He will share pieces of himself with you, but give him an inch and he'll take a mile.

He's afraid of vulnerability. Love is a weakness, he's burned himself so many times with mortals and cosmic beings alike.

So, he'll expect you to give yourself fully to him... But he'll be hesitant to do the same.

You and him against the world, forever and in death.

There are nights where he'll warp the nightmare realm into your own personal playground.

He'll make music play out of nowhere, cheerful little tunes he heard in the mindscape of Earth's greatest artists. With a twinkle of his eye, he'll slip his hands over yours and guide you through steps. He teaches you new dances you've never seen before.

You'll dance the night away as he a chorus of screams and wearing flames surrounded you. Your very own, blue and warm spotlight shines over your perfect features. Bill can't possibly take his eyes off you! Whether or not your afraid or elated at the chaos he brewed, he absolutely ADORES you!

Love is acceptance and submission. No matter what, no matter the cost. So he won't understand why you disapprove of certain things he's done. He understands morality- but that's a meat-bag concept! You two are beyond that!

It would shock him to find you won't go with his Weirdmageddon idea.

His pranks turn harmful, well, even for you. Turning coffee to decaf was his worst idea before, but that quickly turned into making arsenic taste like blue raspberry so everyone in Gravity Falls wouldn't be able to tell the difference between that and Kewl-Aid.

Over time, his whimsical, funny little ideas turn into plans. Things that made you laugh out of the sheer absurdity of his ideas, becomes a twisted reality.

He expected you to be with him for all of eternity, no matter what.

So why? Why were you pulling away?

He just doesn't understand. Deep down, he does. But he refuses to acknowledge that.

The sweet gestures and love bombing come back tenfold. Until it becomes unbearable.

He nearly burns you in his attempt to show you a sun so bright and so powerful. He thought you'd love terrifying displays of power as much as he does.

At some point, if he thinks you're pulling away, he'll try to cut you a deal.

He knows you from the inside out. He knows what makes you tick. What you need and want.

If you refuse him time and time again, he gets a little upset. But deep down, he likes the chase. He admires individuality, it is chaos and creative balanced- it makes you YOU. Not just some sad sack he had control over, in a world full of puppets.

Deep down, he doesn't want to take that individuality away from you by shackling you to his whims.

But Gods don't love the way mortal men do.

They consume and devour. Overpower everything until nothing is left and they can rebuild it all in their image. They do what they do best, cast dominion over everything they see and rule.

He whisks you away to the edge of the Nightmare realm, near a void no one comes back from.

A pair of his slender black arms wrap around your waist tightly, almost suffocatingly. Another pair of them sprouts to lovingly cradle your neck and turn your gaze towards him.

He holds you over the edge of this void, vast and endless. You drown in the twisted obsession building in his eye. He takes in your terrified, confused expression, and whispers promises of a future with him. Your form shakes, your feet swinging desperately for purchase.

"It's you and me against the world, I will never let you go."

All of this fear and hurt, just to prove his point. That you need him, and he needs you. If there was one thing Bill had been good at his entire existence, it was sowing fear deep into the minds of everyone he met.

It's up to you, whether or not you'll give in to that fear.

God, proof-reading this just makes me realize how in deep I am. Did you see the little secret notes between the lines? <3 Thanks for reading!

✮⋆˙ twinkle twinkle little star (Bill Cipher x reader)

author note: hii, so this is my first time writing Bill Cipher (if we’re not counting smut LOL), so if he feels a little OOC, I’m so sorry in advance :((

Please Can You Write Something With Bill? 🥺 I Would Really Like Him In Your Writing Style

“You’ve got no idea how small you are. A little ant, crawling on the rim of a soda can, thinking the universe stops where the metal curves. But you’re lucky, babe. You’ve got me to show you the truth.”

You never should’ve made that deal and you knew it.

You should've known better than to trust him.

“Love” wasn’t the word for it.

At first, it felt. . . flattering. Who wouldn’t be seduced by the idea of being special in the eyes of something so vast, so incomprehensible? But Bill wasn’t the type to love, not in the way you understood it.

He didn’t love you, not the way humans did. Bill Cipher didn’t do love. You were his curiosity, obsession, a bright, burning light in his endless void.

He called you his little star, but very soon it turned into his pretty, breakable toy. And you hated how the words made your skin prickle, how his attention felt like sunlight filtered through glass, so beautiful and searing, but dangerous if you stayed too long.

He never asked you to love him. That would imply some sort of equality, wouldn’t it? Something mutual, balanced, tender. No, Bill Cipher wasn’t a man or a demon. . . or a whatever he was, who traded in such mortal trivialities. Love? What even was that, anyway? A chemical spill in the brain? A pathetic excuse for self-destruction? Hilarious!

Instead of your love, Bill demanded your existence. Every breath, every thought, every fleeting moment of fear or fury or fascination, it all belonged to him, as surely as the stars belonged to the sky. And wasn’t that the whole point? To take something so ordinary, so inconsequential and remake it in his image?

Bill didn’t love you. He consumed you.

He didn’t care about your happiness or well-being, but he cared about your essence and your potential.

The stars were his obsession, and now you were too.

When he first spoke to you about the them, he said, “you humans love to romanticize the heavens, don’t you? Gazing up with your sad little eyes, dreaming of escape, like you’re anything more than dust stuck in a whirlpool. But you, sweetheart, you could be a star if you wanted.”

And it sounded too tempting.

***

With fear and trepidation, you realised that you would like him to appear more often in your life. You felt lonely and empty without that singular eye which was so damn alive in ways human ones could never be. When Bill Cipher looked at you it felt as if the fabric of the universe peeled back, and for the first time, someone truly saw you.

“You’re different,” he whispered once and his voice sounded like molten gold. “They’re all rats in a maze, but you’ve got potential. You could shine, dear.” and you believed him.

Maybe that’s why, when he first tore the sky apart and dragged you into a void of glittering stars, you didn’t scream.

Because Bill doesn’t show you space, he shoves you into it.

It was fucked up, all of it.

The way he could snap his fingers and peel the world apart like wallpaper, exposing the writhing void beneath it. Bill doesn’t do anything halfway. One moment you’re standing on Earth, listening to him wax poetic about infinity; the next, you’re drowning in the universe itself.

“Look what I can do. Look what I’ve seen. And now, you get to see it too!” Bill said excitedly meanwhile all you could do was only stare, slack-jawed, as galaxies spun like pinwheels with their light painting you in hues of silver and violet.

Bill’s laugh cuts through the silence like static on a dying radio. “Beautiful, isn’t it, dear? A front-row seat to the cosmic symphony! And guess what? You’re the lucky guest of honor!”

“Fuck,” you whispered in awe, not even daring to blink.

Bill laughed at you again. “Exactly, baby! Fuck! That’s the kind of reaction I’m talking about! Do you get it now? While all these other ants were busy bumping into walls, I saw this. This!”

His eye spun toward you, unblinking, watching you from head to toe. He watched you both worshipful and utterly unhinged because for him you were part of those infinite constellations he adored, he watched you like you were the only thing that mattered in a universe of infinite distractions.

“You could be one too. A star.” Cipher spoke.

You didn’t ask what he meant back then, only laughed. “Stars burn out, Bill.”

“Yeah, but they make one hell of a show first.”

But how sad that stars didn’t just shine, they exploded.

***

It wasn’t all chaos and destruction, not at first. There were soft and tender nights, when the storm of his mind calmed just enough to let the starlight through.

Bill Cipher didn’t have lips to kiss, but he had power and he wielded it for you when he felt like it.

One of the clearest proofs of his power was that night by the lake.

You remember it, the night the moons danced just for you.

Bill hated water, loathed its constraints, its rules, but he was levitating beside you anyway, watching as you waded deeper. You floated on your back, staring up at the night sky, feeling the silence, enjoying it. His eye gleamed in the darkness, lighting you up, taking you in like a masterpiece he didn’t know how to ruin just yet, but there was unusual softness in his voice when he snapped his fingers.

And the moons, now two of them, impossibly large, swelled and glowed with light. And then the lake shimmered, the ripples reflected the radiance until it looked as though you were swimming through liquid silver, no. . . melted pearls in their beauty.

And it took your breath away.

“You like it?” he asked in a casual tone. “I can make it brighter, if you want. Or darker. Or gone.”

And as if reading your mind, Bill snapped his fingers once more and the two moons shone even brighter.

“Better now, right? It’s for you, sweetie,” he said, leaning on his cane. “The moon, the stars. . . hell, the universe.”

You hated how beautiful it was. How much it felt like it was for you. But back then, you felt loved. Or at least, something close enough to it.

***

Bill was everywhere. In your mind, in your shadow, in the air you breathed.

But love with Bill was never meant to be gentle, it meant to be a trap. A game played in his favor, in which you were destined to lose. It started small, quiet, too quiet to notice and react, his words cutting deeper, his charm was imbued with a poison. He didn’t just want you near; he wanted to own you, to reshape you in his image, to pull you apart until there was nothing left but the star he claimed to see in you.

He didn’t just want your attention, he demanded it, craved it with a desperation that was feral. And when you tried to push back, tried to claim even the smallest piece of yourself, he didn’t take it well.

One night, after you’d dared to argue with him, to tell him no, he burned with a rage that lit up the sky. His form glowed red, large, his voice so loud and low that made the ground tremble beneath your feet.

“You think you can defy me? You think you can just walk away? Newsflash, sweetheart: you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And you’re not going anywhere.”

He grew restless. Obsession turned to cruelty. When he spoke, it was no longer about the stars you could see, but the ones he wanted you to become. His anger was cosmic, vast and unrelenting, and it terrified you.

“You’re wasting yourself here,” he snarled one day, his triangular form flashing red again as he hovered above you. “These people, this place, they’re nothing. I could make you mor—”

“W-what are you even talking about, Bill?” you spat, though your voice trembled. “I’m human, Bill. I can’t—”

“Bullshit! You can. You just won’t. And that’s what makes you pathetic. You think you can leave me? Do you even know what I’ve done for you? What I’ve shown you?”

You stared at him, trembling, but still defiant. “You’ve shown me a prison with a prettier view.”

And Cipher only laughed. “Prison? Sweetheart, I’ve given you the fucking stars! You’d be nothing without me. Nothing.” if he had a mouth, it’d be that disgusting crazy wide grin.

You wanted to run. But how do you run from someone who can rewrite the very ground beneath your feet?

***

You remember the terror of Weirdmageddon because you were at the center of it all. Not by choice, never by choice, but because that’s what he wanted. And what Bill Cipher wanted, he took.

But when it was over, when the Pines family managed the impossible, when Bill was defeated, erased from Stanley’s mind, when they unraveled Bill’s madness, tore him apart, and your world snapped back into place, the silence felt. . . deafening.

You didn’t see Bill fall, not directly, but you felt it, you knew it was over, the sudden, aching silence where his presence used to be.

The world felt smaller without him, quieter, duller. And you hated yourself for noticing.

You should’ve been relieved.

But instead, you stood in the ashes of his world, staring up at a sky, at the empty space where his chaos had once burned so brightly.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t laugh.

And you remembered the stars. But Bill taught you that stars were always meant to burn out.

You remembered the way his voice softened when he talked about them, how excited and happy he sounded, the way he’d show you galaxies as if they were flowers he’d plucked just for you. You remembered the way he watched you, like you were the only thing in all of creation that mattered.

Even now, after his fall, you hope he remembers the galaxies. . . or if he’s just another forgotten star, lost to the void.

And you wondered if, somewhere, in some forgotten corner of the universe, he remembered and saw stars too.

249 notes View Post

cipherstarling

1 month ago

I ACCEPT ANY AND EVERY HUMAN UNDER CIPHERTOLOGY BY THE WAY IN CASE YOU WERE WONDERING

I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR GENDER, SEXUALITY, RACE, AGE, RELATIONSHIPS, OPINIONS, ANYTHING! AT THE END OF THE DAY YOU’LL ALL TASTE THE SAME

31 notes View Post

cipherstarling

1 month ago