Bill Redraw

Ad Infinitem, 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.

Tags

book of bill bill cipher bill cipher gravity falls gravity falls fanfiction gravity falls x reader bill cipher x reader bill cipher x you bill cipher fanfic bill cipher headcanons bill cipher angst

38 notes View Post

cipherstarling

1 month ago

͙͘͡★ i asked the stars about you

tags: sfw, Bill x reader, Bill is an asshole but he cares in his own way, existential crisis?, eh i tried to portray it like romantic tension but i failed, hurt/comfort but i failed it too lmao

a/n: why does writing Bill always unlock the part of my brain that wants to write biblical nonsense. this was meant to be like a paragraph, mb two. and now it’s this mess that ive been writing for a damn week and i still don’t like it cuz Bill here feels kind of wrong and ooc. but hey!!! fanfiction is a lawless land where we make the rules :) sorry to any Bill lovers out there tho, pls don’t kill me for bad characterisation

night in gravity falls was so warm and unusually silent, you knew that only happens in august, when the town is still too sleepily. summer is already fading, but the air still holds sweet memories in it, dust from the asphalt, warm sap from pine needles, the soft haze of moonlight across your forehead.

you’re here again, in the empty yard, on the playground where you used to play until it got dark and someone called you home. there’s no one around now. the swing creaks barely and you sit on one of them, letting your toes brush the ground, clenching your fingers tight around the chains, and you swing.

back and forth, higher and higher, and every time it feels like you’re just a little closer to the sky.

the sky, it’s the only thing that hasn’t changed. everything else left because you grew up. people came and went, switched places. but the sky is still there, still silent, dark blue, scattered with stars, each burning in its own light. you still remember them though, the eagle, the swan, andromeda, cassiopeia.

you once dreamed of being an astronomer.

and even now, grown, you still can’t stop loving the stars. every swing lifts you closer, and you want to reach out to touch them.

well. . . at least something in this world stays in place.

though, except for the stars, there was one more constant in your life.

a triangle. a ridiculous, talking, floating triangle with a single eye and too many opinions for someone who didn’t technically have a mouth.

Bill Cipher. the thing that defied all laws of nature, laughed at gravity, and travelled through your thoughts like a parasite and a friend.

you’d be brushing your teeth in the morning, bleary-eyed and half-alive, and there it’d be, a sticky note slapped to the mirror, “YOU DROOLED. DISGUSTING. NEVER CHANGE.”

and when you were about to leave the house, keys in one hand, bag over your shoulder, there was another one waiting on the door, “REMEMBER: IF YOU DIE TODAY, I CALL DIBS ON YOUR BONES.”

even when you’d get in the shower, it'd be stuck on the sink: “HUMAN HYGIENE FASCINATES ME. DO YOU SCRUB YOUR ORGANS TOO?”

and yeah, they were weird. a little unhinged. sometimes kind of funny. and you started looking forward to them more than you’d admit.

he used to appear more, though. materializing out of nowhere, talking your ear off about planetary alignments and obscure constellations. you remembered those nights clearly. you’d point at the stars, and he’d name ones you’d never heard of, from galaxies that didn’t even have a number in human astronomy yet. he spoke of civilizations erased by time, of things older than your own galaxy.

you used to sit on your porch with him and talk about the absurdity of human civilization. he was smart, frighteningly so. and he never dumbed things down for you. he talked like you were capable of understanding, and sometimes you did, sometimes you didn’t, but you loved that about him

and when you asked, quietly, where he was from, his eye would narrow.

“delicate topic,” he’d say, too quickly.

Bill already knew everything about you. your fears, your dreams, your favorite songs, the names you gave the stars as a child. and it felt unfair how much of you he had, while you had so little of him.

he told you once that you were weird. and then, like it was some kind of comfort, “but don’t sweat it, sweetie. everyone in this freakshow town is weird.”

so maybe he’s appearing less because of that mysterious scientist he kept mumbling about. you heard the rumors, too. people talked, said the guy had six fingers. said he was here for the anomalies. you didn't really care.

and suddenly, Bill Cipher wasn’t visiting your dreams quite so often.

and you miss him.

you hate how much you miss him. how empty the silence gets when he’s not zigzagging through your kitchen talking about 4th-dimensions. how your mornings feel like sleepwalking without his notes. how dumb and pathetic it sounds even to you, that the one presence you long for most is a floating triangle with a god complex. but what could you say?

you kept swinging. the stars watched in silence. and you, in return, kept watching them.

forward, backward. the chains creaked softly with every rise. you closed your eyes at some point just to create the illusion of flying.

you were mid-swing, when it came again. that melody. it came from nowhere and everywhere, pressing behind your ears, vibrating somewhere between your teeth and your spine.

you smiled.

of course.

“ah. there you are,” you murmured, already looking around without needing to move. you knew better. Bill could materialize out of a crack in the ground or a coffee mug if he wanted.

but tonight, that demon was feeling poetic, apparently.

the moon blinked and one giant sharp pupil eye opened, and from that glowing socket rolled out a triangle. yellow. laughing. too bright to stare at directly. you squinted, shielding your face with one hand.

“aaaand guess who’s back, baby! enjoyin’ your little emo moment, i see? what’s this, swing therapy? should i book you a session with my imaginary assistant?“

“could you, maybe, not enter through celestial bodies? you nearly burned my retinas.”

“what’s the point of making an entrance if it doesn’t cause mild visual trauma?” he shrugged, floating backwards into a lazy spin. “so. what’s the occasion? out here all alone like a tragic indie film protagonist. spooky swingset, lonely stare. classic.”

you sighed, dry. “just. . . thinking.”

“uh-oh.” Bill floated closer. “dangerous hobby, humans thinking! leads to wars and taxes.”

you let out a breathy laugh despite yourself. “i guess i’m just feeling nostalgic. you ever get that?”

he burstee into laughter immediately. “nostalgia! adorable! you meatbags are the only species that cry over the passage of time, like it didn’t warn you in advance. TICK TOCK, SWEETHEART! y’all live like, what, seventy years on average? that’s not life, that’s a limited-time free trial.”

“wow. thanks. totally made me feel better.”

“you're always welcome, cutie!” his voice dipped in mockery. “sooo, whatcha doing? starin’ at the sky again? tryna hypnotize the stars into making your life less depressing?”

“yep, i just like looking at them. makes me feel like i’m not stuck here. like everything’s bigger than this town. bigger than me. i don’t know.”

“ugh.” he made a gagging sound and morphed briefly into a glittering puddle before reforming. “you and your stargazing. seriously. you’re one constellation away from joining a cult.”

you tilted your head at him.

“what? you don’t like stars anymore?”

Bill fell silent for a moment. his eye narrowed slightly. but then his usual teasing voice returned.

“hate to break it to ya, but your species is stuck on that rock for another ten thousand years at best. moon was a fluke. you guys’ll be lucky if you make it past microwaving leftovers without starting nuclear winter. you’ll never reach those twinkly bastards up there. not really.”

you blinked. your throat tightened unexpectedly from a wonderful support he provides. “you really think that?”

“babe, i know that. you all stare up at the sky and make up stories about it because you can’t deal with how small you are. here’s a fact: you’re not meant to touch the stars. you’re meant to burn under them.”

“you’re kind of a dick,” you said quietly.

“no, you’re just too sentimental and blind.”

you laughed. “well, i like pretending we could go further. beyond the moon and past saturn. doesn’t mean i don’t know it’s impossible, Bill.”

not like you were expecting anything serious in return, so you received that: “hm, tragic. and here i thought i was the monster in this story.”

you looked up again, to the stars.

“you still might be.” that made Bill shut his mouth, he was quiet, for once. meanwhile, you looked down at your shoes. “anyways, ou didn’t always sound so cynical about it.”

“i’ve always sounded cynical about it,” Bill corrected. “you just had stars in your ears.”

you bit your cheek, forcing a smile. “they’re pretty,” you bit your lip and kicked a pebble. there was a question curdling in your throat. it’d been sitting there a while, sharp and annoying, like a grain of sand in your eye.

you didn’t wanna ask. but you had to.

“where were you? why’d you disappear? i didn’t even get a nightmare. not a single one.”

Bill hovered and froze for five agonising seconds, but then laughed with that horrible, spine tingling laugh you loved hated.

“oh sweetie, you jealous?” he cooed, leaning forward. “missed me that much?”

you narrowed your eyes. “that’s not an answer.”

“oh, someone’s clingy! but no, i just found a new toy to play with, that’s all!”

“a new toy?” your voice cracked with disbelief. “what do you even mean by that?” your brows furrowed

“sheesh, sweetheart, relax! you’re still my favorite toy! the others squeal too fast.”

you huffed. “you’re such an ass.”

“thanks!” he responded quickly, but noticing your face expression, he finally gave you an answer. “been busy. got tangled in a little puzzle box of a man. thinks he’s clever,”

he spun his cane around once, then tossed it into oblivion. “you’d hate him, he stinks.”

you didn’t say anything because you weren't in the mood, all what left your mouth was a deep tired sigh until—

“BOO!”

“FUCK!” you yelped, stumbling backwards as he popped into existence inches from your face.

“no need to cry, sweetheart. i’d never replace my favorite weirdo.”

you glared, the corners of your lips turned down in annoyance as you swatted your hand through him like mist. but then something above caught your eye. a tear in the dark.

a shooting star.

“Bill, look!”

you sprang off the swing, raising your arm, pointing your finger skyward like a little kid, excited. “there! did you see that?!”

Bill floated beside you, unamused, already knowing what's coming next. “agh. here we go again. . .”

you clasped your hands together and whispered under your breath, closing your eyes. Bill watched you make a wish without blinking.

if he had a mouth, he might’ve smiled. thankfully, he didn’t. because demons like him didn’t do that. they didn’t melt over dumb human eyes or the belief that the universe gave a shit about your whispered little dreams.

“why do you always get quiet when we talk about stars?” you asked suddenly, not looking at him. “you never talk about them like you do other things. didn’t you ever want to touch them, too?” you turned to face him finally, staring into his single eye. “didn’t you ever wish the same?”

“they’re empty,” Bill finally said after another silence. “cold rocks. radiation. broken bones and screaming voids. you think there’s what? some magic up there? there’s just more nothing.”

“then let me see it,” you whispered with hope in your voice. “show me. let me see the stars closer.”

he blinked, surprised at your words, as if you’d just asked to die. “you’re not serious.”

“i am.”

his eye tightened at that response, annoyed at your stubborness. “you won’t like what’s out there.”

you stepped back. “fine! then i’ll get to them without your help! i don't need you.”

and before he could respond, you ran, your feet carried you right through the dark into the trees, the swings creaked behind you. Bill didn’t follow, at least not physically. but a hundred golden eyes peeled open in the trees around, watching you as you kept running.

you reached a tree, tall one, crooked. and you climbed, feeling branches biting at your skin. your feet slipped on damp bark and you cursed under your breath but kept going. cuts bloomed along your arms, your legs, but it didn’t matter.

your hands were scraped and knuckles raw, twigs tugged your hair and the bark flaked beneath your fingers, but you didn’t stop.

you didn’t care that your legs were shaking or that your breath was burning in your throat, you didn’t even notice the thing behind you. the long black limb slithering up the tree’s spine, shadowed darker than night, waiting. Bill’s little safety net. of course he’d never admit it.

he was watching you.

through a dozen borrowed eyes, clinging to pine. he watched your foot slip and you gasped as you almost fell. and the tendril twitched, ready.

“you absolute idiot,” Bill muttered to no one. “you picked the tallest tree in the goddamn forest.”

but you were too high on spite. too high on that breathless wild hunger to prove him wrong.

and when you were there, at the top, the branch dipped beneath your weight but didn’t break. you sat, dizzy from the wind and the way the dark sky opened up in front of you like a mouth.

holy shit. you couldn’t even think.

the stars weren’t just above anymore, they were everywhere. on your skin. in your eyelashes. crawling into your blood.

you tipped your head back and laughed breathlessly, nearly crying. raised your arm toward the dark hoping it might reach back.

“see?” you called out. “i did it! i’m here. i got closer.”

at this time, Bill was right beside you, floating and glowing in the night. he didn’t say anything for a second, until “that’s it? that’s the grand finale? you climbed a tree. congratulations. you’re a squirrel with emotional problems.”

you grinned, not even offended. “i’m still closer to them than i was ten minutes ago.”

“yeah,” he drawled. “and thankfully, that’s your limit.”

“why thankfully?” your face dropped. Bill didn’t answer so you asked again, louder this time. “what does that even mean? why are you always like this about it? what’s there, Bill? what are you hiding? what’s up there that you won’t tell me? talk to me, what did you see? what are you hiding?”

Bill froze and his form wavered. suddenly, a crimson hue ran along its edges.

“you wanna know what’s up there?” he barked aggressively. “NOTHING!” his tone and words made you flinch, but that wasn't the end of his speech. “fire! death! you’ll burn before you even reach the edge of that velvet sky you worship so bad. what are you trying to prove, huh? that you’re special? some saintly sky-gazing freak who’s above the rest of the mud-crawling masses?”

you blinked, startled. and hating yourself for your own reaction, because your body and voice trembled treacherously, you felt anger.

“yes,” you answered. “yes, Bill. i think i’m fucking special. because i fucking try! because i look! i don’t just let everything rot around me and laugh at it from the sidelines like a fucking coward!”

and that’s when your foot slipped, it happened too fast. bark tore under you and your body tipped backward, air was gone and you were falling like a shooting star, metor, until something caught you, the thing wrapped tight around you, too cold for your skin, winding around your waist, your arms, your ribs. a single black tendril, pulled you from the fall, yanking you from death.

Bill had caught you. and he immediately knew that somewhere, in another timeline, he didn’t.

but in this one, he placed you gently on the ground and his all seeing eye watched you intensely. good. not a scratch more on you.

although he didn’t float down to check more. Bill stayed at the top of the tree, watching the sky.

you looked up at him. heart still punching inside your chest.

“you just saved my life.” you whispered in disbelief, knowing full well that he wouldn't hear.

it was just silence, and that fucking tendril, still curled tight around your body like a belt. you hated this, but more than all you hated how still he was, as if he was trying to look unreadable on purpose, like he hadn’t just snapped at you five seconds ago. you felt like you were a curious child who touched the wrong lever on the wrong machine and now had to sit in time out.

you squirmed and tugged, making the the tendril tighten. you knew Bill controlled them, and if it wasn't letting go, it meant he wasn't letting go.

“seriously?” you snapped, still breathless. “what now, punishment? gonna strangle me with your magic spaghetti thing now? teach me a lesson or whatever?” you wrestled with the slick thing coiled around your waist.

nothing. and that nothing made you exhale in annoyance. worse was that he wasn't speaking. you would've rather he yelled again, mocked you again, burned you with words. . . at least that meant he cared.

it was embarrassment you felt. or maybe just confusion. whatever that emotion was, you couldn't understand it. because you didn’t fight like this, not with him. it wasn’t like that between you two, even your worst disagreements had spark, play, jokes. meanwhile, this felt like a wall had slammed down between you and he was standing behind it with his arms crossed, eye closed, pretending you weren’t pounding your fists on it.

“you want me to apologize? is that it, triangle guy?” you asked louder, tired. “fine! here. im sorry, okay? im sorry i tried to understand you, sorry i wanted to see what you saw. sorry i cared. now let me go.”

Bill looked down, as if you’d finally reminded him you existed. his shape turned back to gold, he tilted in the air slightly, observing you from a new angle.

your stomach flipped, because you still didn’t know what the end of a friendship with a demon looked like. you assumed, at best, it ended with your blood on a rock.

he floated down a little.

his voice, when it came, was softer than you expected.

“you said you wanted to be closer.”

and your heart jumped, because yes. yes, you had. and you meant it. you weren’t just saying things to hurt him. you wanted this. you wanted him, wanted to understand what he saw when he talked about the stars. you wanted to be part of that world, even if it was dangerous or made no sense.

“i did. i do.”

Bill stared at you a moment longer and saw a human who reached for impossible things, despite being made of bone and flesh.

he saw in you the thing he hated about himself. curiosity, untempered. wonder, unstoppable. the desire to know, even when the knowing came with teeth. and he hated how you’d burn yourself just to see what lived behind the clouds. hated how he adored you for it.

Bill didn't like emotions, but fuck, you stirred up all the ones he thought he'd buried in whatever remained of his dark soul.

because you were the only creature he'd ever met who looked at the sky the way Bill used to. you were the first one to get that close. and you didn’t even die.

finally, Bill let the tendril slide away from you, melting into nothing.

and then his form grew, literally expanded upward in impossible geometry. limbs stretching until they threatened the shape of the forest, until everything around him felt small. and you felt small.

your head fell back to keep him in view and fuck, your knees wobbled as you staggered back.

“holy fuck,” you breathed in awe. “you are so dramatic.”

you think you just developed megalophobia.

but still, your feet didn’t move.

his hand, now the size of a huge car, unfurled from his side. he brought it low, slow, like the offering of a god.

“step on.” his voice sounded through trees and came from all directions. that's how huge he grew.

you stepped into it and his hand lifted you slowly.

Bill knew, you were the only thing he could show the stars to without it killing you.

and the air tore through your lungs like lightning. you gasped and clutched at his finger for balance, every inch of you burning with euphoria while trees became moss, rivers became threads of silver. gravity falls, your town, your whole life, was now the size of a postcard.

and you were laughing. you didn’t even realize you were until tears blurred your vision.

“oh fuck, Bill,” you gasped, dizzy. “this is— this is insane! i’m gonna die up here.”

“not unless i drop you.”

“don’t you fucking dare.” you grinned so hard it hurt. you clung to one of his fingers, half-laughing, half-crying. still not realising fully what even happened, being held by something you thought hated you five minutes ago.

“see? this is what i meant,” you said in excitement looking down at gravity falls. “down there, they live their lives without even looking up. they don’t know. dont even look up!”

“then why are looking down?” Bill questioned calmly. “didnt you want to be closer?”

and you turned to look, not down, not anymore. up. and for the first time, the stars weren’t distant and unreachable. stars weren’t a ceiling. they were around you, they swallowed you, clustered like diamonds, glowing.

“thats cassiopeia,” you whispered. “and andromeda, and— that’s perseus right? oh my god. i can see saturn! Bill, i can see saturn!”

Bill didn’t answer, because he wasn’t looking at the sky. his eye watched you, unblinking, drinking in the reflection of the stars in your eyes like a creature starved for beauty. the stars were in your eyes, not just above your head. and Bill had never seen anything like it. a creature with galaxies instead of pupils.

“you have a beautiful iris,” he said suddenly.

“what? iris?”

“part of the eye, controls light. yours looks like it could hold galaxies. i like it.”

your cheeks flushed. “oh uh, always thought my eyes were boring, heh.” inside though, you panicked because a triangle just called you pretty and that forced your heart to beat stupid.

Bill's voice sounded offended. “you’d be wrong.”

you laughed nervously, gripping his finger tighter, feeling your pulse in your ears. the cold air stung your face, but you didn’t care.

you looked away quickly to hide yourself from his all seeing eye. “hey. . . can we, can we get closer?”

Bill's eye narrowed, glinting. “oh?” he purred and his usual cockiness returned to his voice. “what kind of ‘closer’ are you asking for, sweetie?”

your face went completely hot and your heart screamed. you tried to hide it, giving him a blank expression, “to the stars, Bill. closer to the stars.”

he groaned. “i swear i should drop you.”

and you giggled as his eye lingered on you, wide. “i don’t get it though,” you muttered, gripping his finger tighter as the cold stung your cheeks. “you tell me not to look up, you say there’s nothing out here. but you live here. you literally float through it like it’s your playground. so what, i’m not allowed to want it too?”

“ohh, back to our lovely term, you think you’re special?” he asked, voice flat.

you flinched at the sharpness. “yeah,” oh, how stubborn you were. “i mean, i already answered that question, Bill, i think maybe i am, so what?”

Bill was silent again. longer, this time. until you almost regretted speaking. then, “that’s cute.”

you frowned because you waited something else in response, but yeah Bill was still Bill. “oh fuck off.”

“i mean it. it’s adorable the way you reach for shit that’d melt your brain in two seconds. how you think being ‘different’ makes you immune to the burn. i remember that.” he looked to the sky too. “that hunger. that stupid obsession with wanting to matter. to see something no one else does. to believe there’s something waiting out here if you’re just brave enough.” then he let out an amused laugh, “you’re wrong. but i like that you believe it.”

you didn’t know whether to feel insulted, supported or understood. “so what now? you gonna let me fall back down?”

Bill laughed at how offended and naive your voice sounded, “nah.” a tendril, cold one and weirdly gentle, slid from the air and rested against the top of your head, petted you like you were some kind of little puppy.

“you’re good, human,” Bill admitted simply. “i love good humans.”

107 notes View Post

cipherstarling

1 month ago

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

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

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

You were two gods, powerful yet alone.

Time and space held no meaning here, in the Nightmare Realm.

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.

"Where am I?" he asked.

"The Nightmare realm, where all things end," you softly answered.

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

"Well, that won't do!"

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.

~~~

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

AAAA I'm so nervous, please be kind! I haven't written fics in years!

The silence was filled 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.

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

But those stories, they never stayed.

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.

~~~~

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.

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

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 on 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.

38 notes View Post

cipherstarling

3 weeks ago

Ok so you know the karaoke page? While I know everyone interprets it as they made out or whatever, but here's what I think ACTUALLY happened, I think bill got so drunk that he told his plans for what he was actually gonna do with the portal and how he was gonna rule the earth with ford because bills a fucking idiot who get emotional after a couple of drinks, and drunk ford understood Half of what bill said cause he's plastered as hell too (bills fault) and was like "oh em gee tis guys he's got it all figured it out, he knows exactly what's hes gonna do!" so the part where ford write "I'm gonna, were gonna" is referring how their gonna take over the world together, because its something their GOING to do, not something that they've ALREADY done

Tags

this is an interesting take because I too remember jack if I drink THAT much also I headcannon that Ford woke up STILL feeling the mindscape fun juice effects wrote this then re-read it once he's sober lol only to draw this masterpiece because he really did have fun and remembers the night fondly whatever he does remember of it anyways hehe

195 notes View Post

cipherstarling

4 weeks ago

To Sonder, Part 1 [Stanford Pines x Reader]

Tags: Fluff, Nerds in love, Strangers to lovers, Two idiots in love, Eventual Smut, Mutual Pining, Canon Divergence, Slow Burn

Premise: You're a curious librarian. You think Stanford hates you but he really doesn't, Stanford thinks you're friends but you secretly hate (and like) him.

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

You've never wanted to spend time with a man so, so badly that you decided to learn complicated studies like quantum physics, cryptozoology, lepidopterology- and a bunch of different other -ologies you didn’t know even existed before meeting Stanford Filbrick Pines. Your brain is burning from the sudden onslaught of information.

So here you were, back aching from hours of crouching over your notebooks in the library. You ran out of paper a while ago, so you settled for writing on the back of your book- your boss would kill you if he ever found out. But who cares? Not like anyone buys anything from the forgotten cooking section of the Gravity Falls public library. Black splotches peppered your hairline from where you stressfully combed through your hair with ink stained fingers.

God, why did you have to have a crush on someone with a stupid, big brain?

You learned very quickly that Stanford Pines doesn't care for small talk. All your "hello"s and "whatcha up to?"s were greeted with a stern echo of a greeting or a short response before silence draped between you like a heavy, wet blanket. Then, he'd walk away, leaving nothing but the faint scent of his cologne, which endearingly matched his surname.

He always hugged a leather bound book close to his chest, you were sure he was the type to fall asleep thinking- cuddling papers of his own nonsensical (at least to you) ramblings and equations.

Stanford visited the library often, and you practically lived here. Like clockwork, he'd head straight to the science fiction section, then browse all the sciencey aisles the Gravity Falls public library had.

Eventually, the universe had to lovingly pick on you for enjoying your quiet work in the library.

It was late in the afternoon, summer was in full swing and everyone abandoned the library to go out camping or for barbecue. The front bell chimed pleasantly as it signaled your impending doom (read as: a socially embarrassing event with a hot nerdy guy that will keep you up for nights to come.)

Of course, you were none the wiser to his presence, definitely, as you stalked through the magazine section. Reading a rousing volume of "Lawn-mowers and heart movers weekly digest". You needed to tidy up here, anyways.

The guy took a ridiculously long amount of time mumbling about two books. Should he get the one labelled 'Help! My boyfriend's an alien overlord with a colossal, cosmic, world ending ego' or pick up a special edition hard cover of Lord of the Rings? He mutters something about how book titles were getting stranger by the day. You thought the titles were gripping.

His eyes were a dark brown, matching his tousled hair. He wore a tan coat that draped over broad shoulders, there was dirt and ink staining his sleeves. He glared at the synopsis written in the back of another book, as if it personally slighted him. The picture of a scholar, inquisitive and sharp-minded.

Finally, he decided to pick up all three books as he hastily fished for his wallet. As he left the aisles, you noticed a torn up piece of paper falling from his pocket.

Without really thinking about it you picked it up.

A decision that would drastically change what the next few weeks of your life would look like.

This small, ink stained piece of paper would eventually lead you to a spiral of wondering what a 'gobblewonker' was and why you should worry about it when you hardly even make eye contact with regular people in the first place. Eye contact was for extroverts.

This life-changing piece of paper was something Stanford scribbled down so hastily. Something that would eventually derail the path he was walking on.

The universe smiled that day. Because this time, you entered the narrative and he was getting a happier story from now on.

On the piece of paper was a simple sentence.

"Don't forget The Jellybeans."

It made you snort.

His handwriting was loopy and pretty. There was a circle looping around the words, as if the fate of the world hinged on whether or not he’d remember The Jellybeans. The capitalization on 'The' and 'Jellybeans' did you in, you giggled.

"Excuse me, you dropped this." You schooled your expression to something more neutral.

The man turned around, clutching his books tighter as he regarded you with a confused expression. Like a raccoon caught eating hot garbage at 4 in the morning. He had dark circles under his wide eyes.

His cheeks were flushed, his jawline was strong, and he smelled of aftershave, old books, pine, and something you can’t quite place.

"You smell mysterious." You mumbled, your thoughts escaped you and settled in the air between the two of you.

.... REALLY? BRAIN??

"Oh. Thank you..?" He said, with a voice so deep and smooth it rivalled the empty void in your brain where small talk and social charm usually resided.

"Ignore thaaaat, sorry. Here,"

You hastily waved the piece of paper at Stanford, who seemed abashed at the little note he wrote. He carefully folded it before tucking it deep into his pockets. You offered him a grin, he offered nothing back in response. Oookay..

"All good! I lost a few things here. So many aisles to lose your stuff in, y'know?"

You rambled, cheeks flushing as the man stared at you. The only response was his blinking and the way he glanced between you and the window to your right. Ah. He wanted to leave. You should probably peel your lips off your face and throw it in the nearest garbage compactor now.

"I didn't want you to lose something important too. I've ah... "Bean" there, done that."

The pun sealed your fate, the silence grew ever heavier at your fading, strained chuckle. The universe grimaced at your subpar sense of humor.

You wished you had even a sliver of literary grace that you saw in "Silver chains for silver foxes weekly" magazine you pretended to read earlier. You hoped that the ground underneath you opened up and decided to save you from the absolute nothing-burger of a reaction the man gave you.

But then, he chuckled.

It was like the world around you came into focus again after that small sound.

You bit down on your traitorous tongue. Too flustered from the string of words that left your mouth to respond.

The man chuckled into the palm of his six-fingered hand- six fingers? God, now even your eyes were betraying you. You decided not to comment on that and let the poor man go.

"Ah, yes. I suppose it is your job to pick up after guests. My apologies for littering, even if it was unintentional."

Damn. He spoke like a gothic horror novelist and sounded smoother than the surface of your brain.

"Haha! Yeah. Um, are you ready to go?"

"Yes, I'll take these."

The check out was fast and quiet. You tried not to look too interested in his selections.

"Mothman, Man, Myth, or Modern MLM Legend?"

"Trigonometry: A Mathematical Tango for Try-hards in their Thirties!"

"Quintessential Quotes for the Quantum Quizzical Individual"

And a bunch of what seems to be heavy books on engineering. Is he a professor of some kind?

You tell him his total and force yourself to move on from the moment. So, Mr. Mystery handed you his money and left with a stiff nod and a strained smile.

The night was a blur as you closed up, you really just wanted to check in with a guest, do your job, and maybe make some small talk. No one ever visits the library this time of the year. Plus, he seemed nice.

You spent your day off wallowing and being especially nice to the raccoons that tried to sneak a bite out of your garbage bin.

Then, the next day came and you clocked in for work. Your boss is officially on vacation starting today and that already threw you off.

Something about the world felt off today.

You woke up from a nightmare about a triangle with limbs tap-dancing through a field of weird flowers. You shoveled stale, lumpy oatmeal into your mouth. You could have sworn your food was trying to spell out your doom. But you ate the ‘M’ so all it spelled was ‘DOO’

You somehow slammed your finger in between the till drawers this morning, you had to clean dried pitt cola in the children's aisle, and Manly Dan came in asking about books for Lumberjacks.

"I NEED BOOKS THAT HAVE A HARD-WOOD, MASCULINE COVER," he then proceeded to yell about how these books were definitely real.

They were, in fact, not real and you had to narrowly dodge the splinters from the chair he threw over his shoulder in a rage.

You could understand his passion, in a way. The pages of a book were once trees after all. He was but a simple lumberjack looking for something he can cut down with the enthusiasm of a chainsaw.

But worst of all, Lazy Susan gave you decaf today and you didn't realize 'til you walked all the way back to work.

So yes, Murphy's law is in full swing today and you were its (un)lucky victim!

Halfway through your shift, you saw him again.

Mr. Mystery.

Everyone knew who he was, the only guy who didn't grow up in Gravity Falls. The weirdo who only came up to buy groceries every couple months and to collect his mail. You were half-convinced he survived off wild mushrooms and pure academia.

Today, however, he didn't come to browse or buy a new book.

Instead, you watched as he ascended the spiral steps to the second floor and disappeared to a familiar part of the building. He grinned at the ornate wooden table sitting in the nicest corner of the library, pulling up a plush chair to sit on.

Oh no.

He slung a messenger bag over a chair and started unpacking papers, old tomes, and a worn out journal onto the space.

No.

That was YOUR space.

For years, no one really bothered to spend time in the library. Hell, no one even noticed the second floor. It was just you, your boss, and the annoying family of moths that made a home in the dusty philosophy section.

Alright, he may be cute and polite, but that was YOUR spot for years now.

You looked forward to taking your break and fixing your dissociated gaze at the window overlooking the beautifully boring sight of Gleeful's Auto Sale.

But today, everything about your routine changed. Even this.

An irrational fury simmered in you. You fumbled being friendly with him the other day and he didn't even TRY to talk to you. Now, he took your favorite dissociation spot!

But you were too tired to kick him out.

Instead, you settled for second best. Nodding shortly at him when he caught your stare. You crossed the room and settled onto an armchair adjacent to his- your- alcove.

And for a time, things were... okay-ish.

Gravity Falls was quiet, with only birdsong and the occasional turn of a page filling the air. For a moment, you could relax.

But then, came the scritch-scratching.

You glanced over at the man, past your book. He was leaning over his journal, pen scribbling away at a suddenly maddened pace- as if he was going to die if he didn't jot his thoughts down at that very second.

A new wave of irritation washed over you.

But then, he stopped. A satisfied little grin bloomed on his face. When he didn't look so severe, he looked... handsome. You could admit that much.

You thought you could forgive the man for his annoying habits. But then, the furious, loud writing would start up and end so suddenly. You can never predict when he'd be stricken with a feverish sort of inspiration for whatever it was he was writing.

You breathed a sigh of relief as he stood up to go to the bathroom.

You were sure you'd hear the sounds of his pen scratching at paper in your dreams tonight.

You got up to fix yourself a drink from the breakroom, but your eyes wandered over the scattered papers on the table.

A mess of equations, half-finished sentences, and... drawings.

Your eyes widened at the detailed and beautiful sketches laying on the table. You can't help but look at one page in particular. On a torn up piece of paper was a drawing of a moth. It looked fantastical in nature, swirly patterns painted its forewings and at the edges were flames. Every scale on its wings was sketched with precision and care. You eagerly admired its details like a moth to a flame. Maybe it was something from a book he read.

A few minutes later, you came up with tea.

Feeling a little bad for snooping, you decided to fix the man a cup of tea. You didn't know if he even liked tea, but you did feel bad for being irrationally annoyed at the clueless man.

He was back in his chair when you went up. You carefully set down the warm beverage in front of him, he startled at your quiet presence.

"Oh, sorry! I just wanted to ask if you wanted a drink? It's just lavender tea."

One of your favorite tea strains, he should be thankful you let him sit at your spot and drink your tea. Gods, why was he cute? Why can't you be more rude to him and scare him away?

"No."

The word came out clipped and fast. The man was in the middle of a hastily scribbled equation, barely registering your words. You could hear a pin drop- you HOPED a pin dropped and it would be sharp, in the middle of the piece of paper he was glaring at.

"Oh, okay." came your light, totally un-hurt answer.

"Wait, sorry. That's not what I mean- I'm tackling a particular... difficult study right now."

You smiled tightly and moved to take away the cup. But he stops you with a vigorous wave of his hand.

"Please, forgive me. I actually DO want tea. I'm out of sorts today, I... I appreciate your gesture of goodwill."

"Oh," you breathed.

Curse this man and his eloquent words. The absolute nerve of him! You tried to do something nice dammit, you're paid to do that for good business. Why can't he make this easy on you?

"It's okay! I get it. You look like you're reading something really complicated." You offer him a small smile.

Once again, he answers your words with a strained smile of his own before mumbling a thank you. He took the tea into his six-fingered hands - hey, so you weren't seeing wrong last time!

Unwilling to let the conversation die just yet, you decide to try and pick his brain.

"I like your drawing."

A warm rosy red colored his cheeks and ears.

“Oh.. I’m sorry…? I didn’t mean for you to see my mess-”

You laughed.

“Sorry? What are you talking about? That’s a really cool moth sketch.”

His eyes guiltily turned to the paper you pointed at. He almost sagged in relief as he pulled it forward.

"Ah... the Igneous Tinea."

"Igni-what?"

"A fire moth!"

His eyes brightened as he turned the page towards you. In the small amount of time you went to make tea, it seemed that the man filled the rest of the paper with writing and notes.

Upon closer inspection, the creature looked a lot like the local moths. Having grown up in Gravity Falls, you'd definitely recognize it. They only ever show up in the deepest parts of the forest.

You wondered why he drew them on fire. “They’re indigenous only to Gravity Falls, I happened upon them while I was out looking for singing mycelium- or as I like to call them, my-sing-iums-”

Your lips quirked upwards at his words. Wow, he could talk a mile a minute. All you needed to do was talk about moths, it seems. Too bad he was so excited and fond of scientific jargon that your brain couldn’t quite catch up to his pace.

"Huh. That's awesome, are you a writer?"

At this, the man's expression dimmed, he looked away. A lonely smile slipped into his face as he drummed his fingers over his journal.

"Ah, I am somewhat of a writer, yes. I am... looking for new material, per se, in Gravity Falls."

Dead silence once again enveloped the two of you. You wondered what the right question was so that you wouldn't kill the conversation with him somehow.

You took a deep breath and flashed him a deceptively easy grin.

"Well, I'll leave you to it, Mr. Writer-"

"Stanford."

You raised a brow at his interruption. The man- Stanford, fidgeted with his fingers. You’d have to ask him about his hands one day, but you didn’t wanna scare him off. He was the only regular the library had now.

"It's Stanford. Stanford Pines. I... I meant to introduce myself the other day. I'm new in town."

Your eyes practically sparkled. Finally! Something other than silence. You try not to be too eager when you tell him your name.

"Haha, I wouldn't say you're new anymore. Stanford. It's been a year hasn't it?"

"How'd you know that?" He narrowed his eyes at you slightly.

"Dude, you've been coming by for months and it's Gravity Falls. Everyone knows everyone."

"Ah... That is true." He mumbled.

Welp, looks like the conversation’s run dry. But now, you had a name to the face so you cheered internally.

"Well, I have some work I need to go back to. Enjoy your time here, Mr. Pines."

You didn't get a response, which was normal for the elusive and aloof Mr. Mystery- Pines, now. You breathed a sigh of relief after disappearing from his line of sight.

God, why was customer service difficult? Why is talking to people worth only 15 bucks an hour?

You spent the next hour or so organizing the moth-filled Philosophy section.

You tried to be gentle with the little creatures and you wondered if they too, ignited into a small fire ball like Stanford Pines' drawing.

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

Thank you for reading! <3

Title is a work in progress~

Tags

gravity falls ford pines gravity falls ford gravity falls x reader ford pines x you ford pines x reader stanford pines x reader young ford pines stanford pines headcanon

49 notes View Post

cipherstarling

2 months ago