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Bill Cipher X Reader - Blog Posts
Gravity Falls Masterlist
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Requests are open! Will write for the following x reader:
Fluff 💖
Angst 🖤
Smut ❤️🔥
Nightmare Fuel {Bipper x Reader} 🖤❤️🔥
GIF by gifsets-blog
Dipper Pines (aged up obviously)
Stan Pines
Stanford Pines
Bill Cipher
Main Masterlist
Nightmare Fuel
Summary: After venturing into the woods and stumbling across a statue, Gravity Falls’ newest resident meets her worse nightmare...or maybe her scariest wet dream.
Requested by @fivvy
Warnings: NSFW. 18+ only. Minors DNI. DARK FIC! This fic contains darker themes such as manipulation, possession, violence, dub/con, and non/con! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! Aged-up Characters, Bill x reader, Bipper x reader, slight Dipper x reader? (There's some tension), porn with plot, slight MabelxPacifica, asshole!Dipper, mind sex, mind break?, sex pollen-like symptoms?, supernatural elements, horror-like elements, fingering, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, revenge sex, choking, asphyxiation, accidental voyeurism. Lmk if I forgot anything! LAST WARNING! DARK ELEMENTS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK AND NO MINORS!! AGES IN BIOS!! Seriously guys, it’s kinda messed up and I will block minors!
Word Count: 7.9 k
Gravity Falls. The town just west of weird. And your new home. When you were younger your family used to drive through the small, eccentric town on the way to visit family in Portland. Your parents just loved the scenic route, and the great nature of Gravity Falls was about as scenic as it got. You never stayed in the town long, but the curious corner of the world always drew you in. The people you would meet during your occasional diner stops or the stories you would hear piqued your interest. It drove you towards a love of writing and reading, just searching for vibrant characters that might match the town's local color. Which is why you decide to take a year off college and live amongst the people that initially stirred your curiosity.
Stepping off the bus, the sunlight speckles through the trees, the warmth dusting your cheeks, and you are welcomed back to the town of Gravity Falls. The scent of pine trees and maple surround you as you walk towards the town square, a suitcase rolling behind you. Checking the address on the post-it note in your hands, you make your way to the house on the edge of the woods: the Mystery Shack. It was probably more of a gamble than you should have taken to respond to the rooming ad for a place called the Mystery Shack, but it was the only available housing in the small town, so you'd just have to take your chances.
Skipping the town tour, you make your way to the tourist trap, but you take note of the town as you go. Everything seems perfectly normal, like you remembered it, but you hoped that wouldn't remain the case. You needed something interesting to write about, something to spark a flame of inspiration in your head. So far, nothing but your new place of residence seems out of the ordinary. You make it to the Mystery Shack, surprised by the number of cars parked out front. A number of people come in and out of the house, most being led around by a dude in a suit, eyepatch, and fez. Walking closer to what you can only assume to be a tour group, you listen in on the man rifting off facts about the obviously fake attractions.
"And here we have the rock that looks like a face, dudes," the tour guide said.
"But is it a rock or is it a face?"
"No, dude, it's a rock that looks like a face," the tour guide sighs as if he got this question often. "It's-it's not an actual face." This only sparks more controversy for the guide, so you peacefully excuse yourself from the group, bypass the entrance for the indoor Mystery Museum, and trudge around to the backdoor. You're pleased to find no tourists there. From the window, you notice a few people filing around the room and you hope they were the actual residents of the house/tourist attraction. Knocking on the door, you are almost immediately met by a bubbly brunette answering with a brooding blond watching intently behind her.
"Uh, hi, I'm—"
"Are you our new roomie?!" She beams, bouncing on the balls of her feet as she ushers you in before you even give your answer. Once you’re in the room, you take in each of the girls' features. The brunette smiles at you excitedly, a pair of perfectly straight teeth flashing between glossy pink lips. Her curly hair tumbles down her back, the front of her bangs are held back by a dark pink headband which matches a pair of leggings she wore beneath a white tee with a multicolored shooting star on the front. The blond behind her has straight hair, straight-cut bangs brushing over her long, mascara-covered lashes, a light purple dusting of eyeshadow matching a purple jersey shirt with a white diamond on the front over a pair of black leggings along with a pair of big, white hooped earrings.
"Yeah, yes, hi," you breathed out, apprehension and shock in your tone as you’re pulled in. "Are you Mabel?"
"Actually...I'm your new roommate!" She squeals before deadpanning with a, “But yeah, my name is Mabel.” You can’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.
"Well, it's really nice to meet you, Mabel," you say genuinely, a sigh of relief passing your lips along with a giggle.
"This is Pacifica, my gf and our other roommate," Mabel introduces. The blond nods her head, not saying a word as Mabel does all the talking. "And my brother also lives here but he's kinda...busy right now. He's sorry he couldn't be here for the greeting party though!" You brush that off. "How about we give you the tour and then we can get to know each other."
She grabs one of your two bags as she leads you to your room: a dark space with a slanted ceiling, a stained-glass window in the far-left corner which offers a muted colored light, a furnace in the far right, a bed at the center of the left wall, and a closet to the left of the bed. It’s perfect for a shut-in writer such as yourself. Mabel tells you that the room used to belong to her Grunkle Stan who was travelling the seas with his brother, her Great Uncle Ford.
Dropping the bags onto the bed, the three of you made the rounds of the house. Mabel and Pacifica share the attic, Mabel saying she has sentimental attachment to the space. While walking through their home, Pacifica tells you how she had grown up as a rich only child. Her parents had fallen on a bit of "hard times" after her dad made a bad investment in some bonds and they had to sell their mansion to the town kook, Old Man McGucket, and, yes, that is how he prefers to be called. After living with her parents until she was legally able to leave, her now living with Mabel and her brother in the Mystery Shack was not only convenient but is also like a middle finger to her oppressive parents. You learn all of this before you even make it to the living room. You really like how talkative Mabel is. Her extrovert personality counteracts your quiet tendencies.
Coming to Mabel's twin brother's room—who you found out is named Mason but is nicknamed Dipper—it’s a mess. Dirty laundry, papers, and books all scattered over every surface. You barely notice the shape of the bed or couch underneath the piles of clothing and maps. The only thing that seems to be somewhat in order was the bookshelf. It’s stacked to the brim with books except for the top shelf, where only three books rest, all with their covers facing out. Each one is a deep blue, a drawing of a silver Pinetree overlayed with a golden Big Dipper constellation and underneath is printed golden numbers 1, 2, 3. They look like journals, though you had no idea what information could be handwritten there. You gather that he’s either a brainiac or a maniac, and neither tend to have very clean tendencies. But you aren’t one to judge, knowing you could get the same way in the midst of an inspired breakthrough. Your muse could work in mysterious and very annoying ways: ergo the entire reason for moving to Gravity Falls.
"Yeah, my brother tends to be a bit...hazardous when he gets in the work zone," Mabel explains sheepishly. "If it's not his room, it’s the basement that's a mess. Or both. Mostly both."
You’ve stayed relatively quiet the entirety of the tour but your curiosity itches at you brain, prompting an inquisitive, "What does your brother do?"
"Science research...of sorts," she answers through thin lips.
"Of sort?" Your brows scrunch together at the vague implication.
"Yeah, I'm not entirely sure the specifics of his work, just that he has a few Ph.D.'s," she shrugs, a nervous laugh bubbling in her throat, as if it wasn't a great feat to have multiple Ph.D.'s before the ripe age of twenty-four.
"Wow, that's...really impressive," you breath, not knowing exactly how to respond to her nonchalance over the subject.
"Yeah, proud of my bro-bro, just wish he would wash his clothes," she chuckles, faking(?) a grimace and pulling a laugh out of you and Pacifica.
The rest of the tour went on like this, sharing stories and taking cracks at one another, giving you an idea of the nature of the relationship between your new housemates. Mabel went on and on about how much the house means to them, and how much their great uncles mean to them as well. It’s really sweet, and you believe that you’ve found yourself some interesting characters to write about.
Mabel is really nice and, while Pacifica had a very hard exterior, you can see her softer side in the moments when she lets herself slip out of that tough exterior to laugh for Mabel. They both help you unpack quickly, even brightening up the space with a lamp Mabel had decorated herself—crystals hot glued to the base, refracting a cascade of rainbows around the room. You feel so welcomed already.
An ear-shattering bang shakes the house, dust drizzling from the ceiling and effectively startling you awake.
"Fuck!" A voice screams. You follow it with a heart-pounding urgency, leading you to the gift shop where smoke billows into the room. The vending machine swings open, and you startle, a small squeak leaping out of your throat. A figure emerge from the smoke, coughing and waving his arms with a cap in one hand to clear out the black cloud surrounding him. When the smog clears enough for you to get a good look at the man, the first thing you saw was the mop of curly brown hair, much like Mabel's, that is powdered with soot and debris. His pale skin is marred by the caking of dirt over his exposed arms and cheeks, yet the dark circles underneath his eyes were still prominent despite only being illuminated by the moonlight seeping in through glass windows. The dark grayish-green tee with a black question mark on the front was also frosted in a layer of powder. The red flannel tied around his waist seems relatively unscathed until he uses the material to wipe what is still on his face. His arms lifted to rub off the grime, showcasing the ink markings on his forearms. You can’t help but stare at him and the opened vending machine entrance, mouth hanging open at the scene. You wonder if you’re dreaming.
"Trying to catch flies, sunshine?" His deep voice rattles. You know he’s speaking to you despite him refusing to look your way.
"Excuse me?"
"No?" He smugly questions, the sarcasm dripping from his voice that is riddled with sleep deprivation and husky from his dust-coated throat. He finally looks over at you, allowing you to meet his chocolate brown eyes. "Then you should close your mouth." You wrinkle your nose at the snark of his tone. Before you can reply, the girls come down from the attic.
"Nice going, Dipstick, what did you blow up this time?" The blonde grumbles. You make a mental note to never wake the girl from her beauty sleep lest you receive the same venomous tone.
"None of your business, Pacifica," he sighs.
"I don't know why you're in such a piss mood when you were the one to wake everyone up at three in the morning, moron," she grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest and rolling her eyes so far back into her head that you’re sure she caught a glimpse of her brain.
"I know that you, more than anyone, need your precious beauty sleep, Pacifica, but my lab is not any of your concern," Dipper snaps back.
"Shut up, Dipshit."
"Buy my silence then, rich bitch."
The tangible tension in the room surrounds the house residents as Pacifica's eye twitch and her nostrils flare. Pacifica, not wanting to put up with his attitude any longer at three in the morning, mumbles a quiet, "Whatever," and turns on her heel, heading back upstairs. You can’t help but admire the great restraint on her part.
"Mason, go to sleep," Mabel utters firmly, tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose in annoyance as she speaks. "You're a dick when you haven't slept in a few days." He knows better than to talk back to Mabel when she calls him out like that, especially so when there is a significant lack of a nickname.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," he groans, his hand dragging down his face, smearing black back onto the skin he'd just half-heartedly cleaned off.
"And you will apologize tomorrow." It’s not a question from Mabel, the no-nonsense tone leaving little room for debate.
"Yeah, I will," he mutters, followed by a nearly silent, "When Waddles learns to fly."
"Well, he already did," she argues, leaving you absolutely confused. "I'll see if I can't get her to apologize for the ‘dipshit’ comment but yours was worse so you have to make the first move."
"I know the drill, Mabel." She nods at his compliance, turning to you.
"I'm sorry that this is your first impression of my brother," she says sheepishly, though her tone scolds him still.
"This is the Ph.D. guy?" You choke out the inquiry softly towards Mabel, shock clear in your tone. She shrugs, nods, then goes off to find Pacifica.
"You must be the new roommate," he smiles then, though it’s more condescending than friendly. Despite that, he still holds out his hand for you to shake. "Nice to meet you. Stay out of my lab."
"Noted," you scoffs, taking his hand as if in a daze.
"Nice pjs," he smirks, instantly turning your cheeks red as you remember what you wore to bed. Nothing more than a thin T-shirt that barely covers your backside. You snatch your hand back from his hold. "Oh, and welcome to Gravity Falls."
Looking around, you take in the black-and-white space surrounding you. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings wide spread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. It’s like walking into a vintage photograph. Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest, following the gentle stream. The only color illuminating the monochrome forest is yourself and the image of a floating yellow-
"Mabel! I've said it once, I've said it a million times! I don't want any Mabel juice!" The sound of Pacifica's shrieking voice stirs you out of sleep, pulling you from the odd dream.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you walk into the den full of commotion. "What the hell is Mabel juice?" You ask sleepily, mid-yawn. You’re met with coos about how adorable the action was from Mabel, to which you blush and sheepishly wave off, already getting the sense that Mabel found cuteness in almost anything.
"Mabel juice!" Mabel announces proudly and far too loudly for so early in the morning. "A beverage of my own invention!" She shows off, presenting the drink in question that looked like a hot pink choking hazard. "Want some?"
"Hmm," you hum in thought at her hopeful intent. "Thank you, Mabel, but I think I'll stick with coffee. I do appreciate the offer though." She just shrugs, still beaming, and pours herself a glass. The sweet smell of pancakes wafts around the room as you sit at the kitchen table. "Something smells good."
"It's my ultra-chocolate-chip pancakes with sprinkles!" Mabel announces, sliding a plate over to Pacifica with a nicely decorated array of rainbow colors over a cloud of whipped cream in the shape of the Smiledip puppy.
"Wow, is this what breakfast is always like here?" You wonder aloud, Pacifica shrugs, hesitates in thought, and then nods.
"How many pancakes, Sunshine?" Mabel hums, the nickname falling easily from her lips. She obviously makes attachments very quickly.
"One, please," you say politely. Mabel is quick to oblige, whipping up similar masterpieces that look like a kitten judge, complete with chocolate syrup whiskers, a powdered sugar powdered wig, and a bacon gavel. "Mabel, this is really incredible." You can’t even remember the last time you had a hot breakfast. Or any breakfast for that matter. You didn't exactly practice a habit of self-care while taking your college courses...or any basic needs really like a regular eating schedule or exercise.
"Why thank you, Cutie-Patootie." You would respond if your mouth wasn't currently stuffed with the bacon gavel. "Sleep well?"
"For the most part." You nod slowly before your mind drifts back to the three a.m. incident. "Can I ask you something though?"
"Shoot."
"Is your brother always like that?" Pacifica snorts derivatively beside you, as if laughing at her own inside joke echoing in her head.
"Well, if you mean pushing the reasonable boundaries of his own health to finish his current hyper fixation…then yes," Mabel sighs, offering a sad smile. "But the bitchiness, no. He’s usually sweet, just sassy. But he tends to slip into bitchy mode when he hasn't gotten enough sleep…which now that I think about it is whenever he’s on the edge of a breakthrough…So to answer your question: yes."
"Hmm, that seems so stupid, though," you hum around a mouthful of the sugar drowned pancake bite.
"Pardon?" The voice comes from behind you, startling you with a bite of pastry cat judge halfway in your mouth. You would have choked if you'd taken a bigger bite. Turning your head, syrup almost dripping off your pouting bottom lip, you see Dipper. He obviously showered which was quite the improvement from last night. Now that his face is clean you can take notice of his features. You remember the big brown eyes but now, without the smudges of grease and grime on his forehead, you notice the pair of bushy eyebrows and fluffy curls that rest above those chocolate orbs. It looks like he hasn't shaved in a while, a shadow of scruff shading his chin. Instead of the question mark tee from last night, he’s wearing a dark blue sweater with the words "Disco Girl" in bubbled sky-blue font that reminds you of a 70s aesthetic mood board which he accompanies with a pair of grey sweats. You think it an odd outfit choice for the moody man in front of you, the juxtaposition boggling your mind. He cocks his head and raises a bushy brow in question when you take your time to answer.
"I mean, it just doesn't seem very productive," you shrug when you finally shallow the breakfast bite that was stuffing your mouth, the hypocrisy dripping off your words as much as the syrup. "When you don't get enough sleep your neuroreceptors lose their sensitivity to serotonin and norepinephrine which leads to impaired cognitive function. I thought you were supposed to be a genius or something." You mumble the last part while sipping on your cup of coffee. Pacifica snorts out of laugh, Mabel has to slap her hand over her mouth to cover the traitorous smile, and Dipper stares at you with his nose wrinkled and his brows drawn together, taking in your words and frowning at the implication.
"I'm going back to bed," he announces, immediately turning on his heel. “Save me a pancake gnome, Mabel!”
"Are you a science buff too, Sunshine?" Mabel asks once Dipper has turned the corner. Peering past the wall, you check to make sure he was really gone.
"Nope," you popped the 'p'. "I got that off a tv show. I just wanted to stump him." All three of you erupt in laughter.
"Okay, I’ve decided to like you," Pacifica giggles, leaning back in her chair and giving you an approving once over. "On a trail basis, of course. We’ll see how it goes."
"Honored," you chuckle.
"So, what’s the plan for the rest of the day?" Mabel asks. She turns the stove off, carrying over a plate with a llama pancake for Pacifica and her own her has a pancake shaped like a dolphin…with muscular arms instead of fins?
"Well, I wanted to check out the town a bit," you answer with a mouthful of the syrupy breakfast. "Maybe walk around the forest a bit…Any good landmarks to check out?”
"Want a tour guide?"
"Yeah, that’d be great, Mabel," you answer gratefully.
The three of you make a day of exploring the town. Mabel and Pacifica show off every aspect and share all the quirky attributes of the small town. Considering the size of the town, the tour doesn't take long. The last stop is Greasy's Diner where Pacifica works. The three of you eat lunch before Pacifica clocks into work. Mabel offers to walk with you back to the Mystery Shack before she goes back out to the craft shop for more knitting supplies. You politely decline, saying that you can find your way back on your own. You part ways and you take your own time strolling back to the house, taking the long way through the mysterious woods you've been itching to explore.
After living with the trio for a few weeks, you caught on to a few things. Mabel is a being of pure chaos, but she makes it work. She channels most of her energy into her creativity, her job consisting of running an Etsy shop selling knitted sweaters. Pacifica is actually a very chill person. She was rather reserved, and you'd catch her people watching often, especially when Mabel's friends Candy and Grenda would come over. She would often observe them with a small smile playing on her glossy lips. She seemed like the perfect balance for Mabel's wildness. And Dipper hates your guts. You're not sure why, but you frequently found him glaring at you. You're not sure what you did, but the guy always has an evil eye for you. Especially when you get back from your daily walks through the woods.
That's another thing about your time in Gravity Falls that seems odd to you. You're not sure why, but you're drawn to the wilderness. It's as if something in the forest was calling out to you.
Your mind wanders as your feet carry you deeper into the forest. Your surroundings blur and blend into the verdant brush or golden glow of the setting sun. You don't even realize how long you've been traveling until your limbs begin to ache and nothing around you is familiar anymore. You hear and see nothing resembling that of a human touch, only the steady thrum of the natural world you've stepped into. The final rays of the evening sun light your path as you venture further, a meager attempt to find your way back to civilization. However, you curiously find yourself stumbling upon a mossy mass of stone, and time seems to slow down the moment you do. The trees still, despite the breeze grazing your skin; the birds hover in the air, wings widespread; the wildlife turn their heads towards you yet don't move an inch otherwise. Coming closer, you see a scrawny statue arm reach out to you welcomingly. Your eyes travel over the attached body, the monument shaped like a personified pyramid. You tiptoe around the monolith, studying the odd artwork. A breeze sweeps over you, a shiver working its way down your spine. There's a sudden subtle tickle at the back of your brain and a slight paranoia settles across your skin. Your eyes find the granite gaze of the one-eyed creature, and goose bumps bloom over your flesh. You don't understand it, but you feel a simultaneous urge to flee as well as an overwhelming draw towards the inanimate figure. The contradiction creates a harsh turmoil within you, and you feel frozen, granting your surroundings the perfect opportunity to whisper advice into the wind. You can almost hear an audible "Run!" from the wood, but you can't bring yourself to follow the orders. Instead, your hand hesitantly reaches out to the outstretched hand, your fingers gingerly grasping the stone and wrapping your digits around the stony hand. However, just as your palm settles against the carved rock, fingers grip your wrist and yank you away, pulling you back into a hard chest. And suddenly, time is back on track. You're ripped from your daze as you're spun around to meet a pair of frantic chestnut eyes.
"What did you do?" he screams, shaking you by the shoulders. His face goes pale, deathly so, and the new ghostly shade causes the dusting of freckles over his nose and cheeks to drain along with his rosy completion. You unconsciously frown at that realization.
"What?" you mutter in a trance, your mind rousing slowly from the mental fog.
"What did you do?" he repeats in a panic, the desperation in his voice snapping you out of your stupor.
"Nothing!" you squeak out in defense.
"You don't touch this!" he wails in your face. "Don't ever touch this!"
"I won't!" you cry out, hands pushing at his shoulders and clawing at his fingers gripping painfully at your arms. His eyes are searching, scanning your face and person manically. Looking for what, you don't know. But he stares into your eyes as if expecting something new. Well, new to you, at least. You get the feeling that whatever he thinks he'll find swimming in your irises is something that he is plenty familiar with. When he seems satisfied enough, he pushes you away softly. Instead, he turns to gaze at the granite figure once more. A shaky hand cards through his curly bangs, showing off the constellation of freckles that were previously hidden. The movement nearly nudges his hat off his head, letting it rest haphazardly on his head. After a moment, it seems as though he settles the argument that has been playing out in his head. He grabs your bicep and starts dragging you back to the house, ignoring your protests.
When you make it back to the Mystery Shack, Dipper drags you through the attraction side of the house, stopping in front of a vending machine. He punches in a code before pushing you through the entrance that reveals itself. You're welcomed into a dark, dusty hallway lit only by a gas lantern. You then ride down in a creaking elevator, watching the numbers change through broken display glass. Once the metal elevator gate opens up again, another room is unveiled, and you soon realize that it's the basement laboratory, the one that he specifically, in no uncertain terms, told you to stay out of. You believe it was the first sentence he said to you, actually.
This room is by far more well-kept than his bedroom, but it also seems more lived in. There are contraptions, books, papers, and writing utensils scattered over every surface, but it at least seems like there is controlled chaos.
He maneuvers you to sit on an uncomfortable wooden stool in front of a wall of monitors and computer keyboards. You don't know why you've let him direct you so easily thus far, but you might be more afraid of what would happen if you resisted. He seemed so shaken, unstable even after you touched the statue.
You nearly jump out of your skin as you feel cold metal atop your scalp. You whip around to see Dipper attempting to fit a rusty colander with tubes sticking out of it over your head. You jump up finally, drawing a line in the sand.
"What the hell is going on?" You screech, a heaviness weighing on you as the fog is finally gone and you begin to understand the possible gravity of the situation.
"Relax," he sighs. "It's a cranium scanner. It's harmless. It's just meant to scan your thoughts."
You scoff. "Why do you need to do that? Why should I believe that's what you say it is? Why were you so freaked out about that statue? Why were you even there? Were you following me? You need to work on your communication because you just drag me down here and try to hook up some terrifying machine to me without my permission and without explaining and this is freaking me the fuck out!"
His jaw ticks with every word that quickly leaves your lips. Silently, he lifts the device to his head and fits it on his scalp. The moment he does the monitor comes to life. Green words dance across the screen and mumbles buzz from the speakers. You see and hear phrases like "Fuck, this girl is annoying...I need to run these tests...We have to hurry...gotta make sure he's not back...keep everyone safe, have to keep everyone safe...Man, I'm starving...When was the last time I did laundry?...Nah, that's a waste of time...Disco girllll, coming throughhhh, that girl is youuu...Shit, now that I look at her she's kinda cut—" He rips the machine off his head and clears his throat before shrugging his shoulders and waving his hands as if to say "I told you so" in a single motion. "See? Harmless. Now put this on."
You shake your head. "I still need an explanation."
He sighs out in frustration, taking the stool for himself as he runs a trembling hand over his exhausted features. "Look, this town...it's not normal, okay? There are things here...things that can't be explained...including that statue." You stare at him tentatively, noticing the way his fingers fidget together and his brow shines with sweat. "Just...do this and we will never speak of this again." You watch him for a moment, trying to gauge whether the knot in your stomach is intuition or just nerves over his odd behavior. You don't think you can trust him...but you feel like he needs this...whatever it is. And you hope that it'll calm his erratic behavior. Plus, you're a little amazed by the mindreading device, and you kind of want to know if it's accurate or not. You cautiously step forward, nodding minutely. He rises from the seat and allows you to take it. You do, wiggling around a bit to get comfortable on the incredibly irritating wood panels.
"Can I at least get a better chair?" you grumble.
He actually chuckles, a breath of relief leaving his lips as he nods. He drags an old, velvet-upholstered chair that sits next to a chess table. He smacks the cushion and allows a layer of dust previously caked on the fabric to fly into the air. You can live with it more than the splintering stool. You settle into the seat and allow Dipper to place the appliance on your head.
First comes the shock as all your thoughts are displayed on the monitor at a mile a minute, including the thoughts of your shock. Next comes the processing as you watch Dipper take a seat and start scribbling notes as he observes the monitors. You watch as every one of your thoughts is displayed and you begin to feel exposed as every one of your anxieties are advertised. Taking a deep breath, you let your eyes flutter close, trying your best to relax.
The next moment you open your eyes again something feels off. You scrunch your brow as you look around the room, trying to figure out what's different. Looking over to Dipper, you notice that he's stopped writing. Instead, he sits staring up at the screen. You miss how the screen no longer projects your every thought and only produces static. Your skin bubbles with pins and needles, a sudden chill filling your bones as Dipper remains unmoving with his chin resting on his intertwined fingers. You can't see his face and that alone unnerves you as the silence persists.
You hesitate to speak. "Dipper?"
His hands separate, palms placed flat on the keyboard top. Other than his arms moving, nothing else does. The anxiety is slowly pressing into your chest as you patiently wait for his next action or word. You're beginning to think you should run.
"Y'know," he starts. His voice sounds different, higher pitched, and echoing slightly. "The human mind is such a delicate thing...so fragile and easy to manipulate." He stands then but still doesn't face you. When he turns towards you slowly, his features backlit by the sinister green glow of the monitor, his movements are casual, and he leans back against the desktop with his arms crossed. You can see his eyes. They're different from the chocolate chip orbs that you saw before. Now his pupils consume the entirety of his irises, and it seems as if they're slanted like cat eyes. They almost glow yellow. They nearly remind you of...
He laughs suddenly, wobbily stalking towards you as he shakes his head mockingly. His voice morphs as he continues to make the maniacal sound. It becomes high and pitchy, echoing a shrill, unsettling quality in the sinister cackle that makes your stomach drop. "I mean, look at you! Look at how easy it was to lead you to this moment. You didn't even fight it!" Your hair stands on end at his words and your limbs tremble as you're reminded that you were worried that this would happen. Is it possible to tell yourself 'told you so'? "You just followed me through the woods. I didn't even have to trick you into taking my hand, you curious little thing!" You flinch as Dipper cages you between him and the seat, his face inches from yours as his eyes study you.
"What are you talking about?" You squeak out, your voice finally working once again. Now that he's so close, you know exactly where you've seen such odd eyes before. The statue in the woods.
"Ahh, there it is," he giggles. A hand comes up and grips your chin between his thumb and index. He shakes your head from side to side while pouting at you derisively. "Figure it out?"
"What—how?"
"Hmm, maybe not," he chuckles. He taps a finger into your temple slowly, but the gentle touch feels far more frightening to you, as if it's the calm right before the raging storm. "And here I thought you were a smart girl." His voice has morphed once again, two voices bleeding into one. You hear Dipper's voice being overtaken by that discordant tone that he laughed at you with. His eyes drag down your body then, a darkness seeming to seep into those unsettling ellipse pupils. "It's always odd to look through two eyes. Everything seems so much more...third dimensional. Much more graphic. For instance," his hand cups your throat, the touch so gentle and soft, but there was an obvious threat there, "if I squeeze, I'd be able to see your skin turn red and maybe even blue if I cut off your air for long enough." He absently chuckles, as if lost in the image of what he's imagining. He leans in closer, running his nose along your jaw. "I'd be able to see your veins popping out. Maybe I'd feel your windpipe crushing too." His eyes drift up to yours, as if only now remembering that you're there. He offers a smile that could possibly resemble something sweet, but it only turned your stomach. "Don't worry, Sunshine," he whispers, gently pecking your cheek, "that's not what I want."
"What do you want then?" you ask, your voice surprisingly harsh despite how your insides knot up and your throat feels as if it's closing up.
He chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls his gaze away from your temptingly delicate throat.
"Just saying hi to an old friend," he answers, releasing his hold on your neck and placing his hands on either side of your head. As he leans into you it's as if you're witnessing a real-life glitch as the man in front of you shifts from Dipper to a lanky, tan blonde. Wild locks peek out from a tiny top hat atop his head and sweep over his bangs that cover one of his eyes. He'd look like a normal person if he weren't wearing such a predatory grin that reminds you more of a monster instead of a man, the ethereal yellow glow that radiates off his skin, or the cracks at the edges of his face with a galaxy peeking through the unnatural jagged breaks of flesh. But just as quickly as the image of the new man appeared, it was replaced by Dipper once again. He wiggles his fingers in a small wave. "Isn't that right, Pine Tree?" He stares into your eyes but it's as if he's looking through you, instead. He's not talking to you.
Suddenly, his fingers clamp over the nape of your neck, the painful pressure causing your muscles to tense and you're at his mercy. He uses this to throw you towards the dusty couch along the wall. Now that you're out of his immediate vicinity you try to get up and run but he moves like lightning and he's over you in an instant.
"Sorry, Sunshine," he says as he swings a leg over yours, locking your body in place as it's trapped between his thighs. The image of his body continuously glitches from Dipper to the person you saw before. Your arms thrash as you squirm and kick and try to get away, but he pays no mind to your struggle, capturing your wrists easily in his grasp. His fingers dig into your skin as he grips your jaw painfully. "It's nothing personal. Well, not towards you, at least." He laughs as if he said something so funny, an inside joke only for him. "Actually, I should be thanking you. You freed me, your pretty little mind is going to be my new home. And in light of that, I think you deserve a little treat, huh?" Despite your struggle, the man easily held you down with a hand wrapped around your wrists. His other hand smooths down your sides, goosebumps raising in the wake of his touch. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he presses an open-mouthed kiss against your lips, his tongue slipping in and scavenging your mouth. And the taste of his tongue rubbing against yours is…intoxicating.
It’s like the sweetest of ambrosia seeping into your tastebuds. You feel like you should be fighting more, struggling harder against the man's advances. You feel the way your veins fill with ice at the realization of what he is planning to do. But your mind feels foggy, your movements sluggish and out of your control; the same way you felt while walking in the woods. Your mind is only consumed by the taste of his lips and how it fills your every being. You need more. Your skin feels hot, burning but in the best ways possible. The feeling slowly begins to thaw the ice in your bloodstream as his touch lights your nerves. You vaguely hear the light chuckle in his voice as your lids flutter halfway and you focus on the featherlike trail his fingertips left over your skin.
You open your mouth, but no words leave your lips, and that shrill laugh rings out again.
"See?" he coos, a mixture of Dipper and the other high-pitched voice resonating through the small room. "So easy." His hand releases your wrists, but your limbs stay in place, unmoving even with their newfound freedom. His thumbs knead into your sides as they slip underneath your shirt, slowly rolling the fabric up your body. "Bet Pinetree is squirming in his seat right now. Better give him a show, huh, Sunshine?" Despite every alarm bell in the back of your mind going off, you find yourself agreeing with the strange entity, knowing nothing but the need for more, more, more. His lips curl up into a sinister smirk as he watches the confusion etch into your brows but you do nothing to stop him.
His shirt is ripped over his head in an instant, displaying Dipper’s pale skin and the curly brown hair of his happy trail before his image shift into a mirage of the other man. Golden brick-like tattoo lines and crack of glowing galaxies along his body mar the perfectly tan skin of the unfamiliar man. And the glitches stop, you notice. He is no longer Dipper. He is only the fabricated personified image of the statue in the woods.
Dark fingers that look like they were dipped in ink and absorbed up to his elbows drag over your frame, cutting away each scrap of clothing covering your body. They fall away so smoothly, as if they were merely delicate drapes just waiting for a breeze to brush them away in a gentle sigh. You want to move your hands and cover yourself, but you can’t bring your limbs to listen. They belong to him now. All of you belongs to him now. And the smirk on his face tells you he knows that.
"Wish I had a real body to truly enjoy this, y'know?" He murmurs, gaze hungrily roving over you. He unhurriedly brings himself to lay on the couch chest down between your legs, the dark tendrils of his hands curling below your hips as his head nuzzles into the side of one of your plush thighs. His hair is soft, you notice. Softer than any earthly object. And you are choosing to focus all of your attention on that fact rather than the hungrily look he gives you. "But taste is more of a mental construct, isn’t it? I don’t need a real tongue to thoroughly enjoy a meal." It’s the only warning you receive before a devilish tongue is ravishing your inner walls. Despite his initial nonchalance, he moves quickly to pick you apart with only one muscle. Your eyes flutter shut at the pleasure but just as quickly, a fist closes around your throat and your eyelids fly open once again. "Eyes on me." And you listen, keeping your eyes on the golden iris trained in you as your jaw drops open in a silent scream while he brings you to completion under his skilled tongue. You don’t make a sound until his hand claps down in your thigh, signaling the need for an audible response to your climax. You oblige, letting a high-pitched moan escape your lips. He looks satisfied enough as he comes off of you with a wolffish grin.
You keep your eyes trained on him as he leans over you once again, as if you are incapable of closing them again. You’re not entirely sure if that inability is because of your own will or because of his command. Either way, you watch as the man hovers over you, causing you to jerk when his cock surprisingly taps your sensitive entrance. You look down then, watching the angry red, mushroom head sliding between your folds. Your body seems conflicted, trying both to get away from the friction and seeking to catch the bulbous tip on your weeping opening. You realize that he’s teasing you, however. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know that he won’t do anything until you beg for it. He wants you to beg for it.
You listen to his sinister chuckle, the maddening sound bouncing inside your head…or are you both already inside your head…?
"Oh, you figured it out, Sunshine!" He chuckles in that echoing voice of his. "Now you know what I want, so do it." Your mouth opens without your permission but no words escape. "Oh, c’mon, Sunshine. I know you want it too…just give in."
"Please," the word is barely audible as it escapes your lips, but he hears it, perking up at the sound.
"Please what?"
"Please…please fuck me!" You can’t keep the whine out of your voice as you finally plead for what this has all been building up to. You don’t know this man—Creature? Ethereal being?—or what kind of spell he put on you. All you know is that you need it. Everything will be better once you feel his cock pummeling in and out of you. And that’s exactly what he does, plunging into you the second the last syllable leaves your lips.
The stretch is painful and you aren’t sure if the scream you release is because of the pain of his dick tearing through you or the pleasurable drag you feel on your inner walls. It’s like you want to scream, cry, push him out, but you can’t. You can only take it, take it, take it, just as he orders you to while he snaps his hips into you. You realize that you are crying, but again, you have no idea if the tears are from the wonderful stimulation or the searing shame of this moment. And somewhere in the back of your mind, you wonder if Dipper knows. You ask yourself what he thinks of you in this moment and if you even care when you’re being speared on a fat cock.
Again that demented laughter rings in your ears, reminding you of the demon you’ve officially sold your soul to that’s treating your body like his personal property. Maybe that’s his now too, along with your sanity. You can’t seem to say much besides moans and whines and pleas for something you’re not sure you want.
"Oh, I really wish you could see her face right now, Pinetree," he giggles, as if talking to himself. "You’d fucking love it. I know I do." He chuckles then, like he made an inside joke before his hand curls around your throat and makes sure your eyes are on him solely. And he speaks but not to you, to something he’s looking at through you. "But I really wish I could see your face right now. You getting off on this, Little Dipper? I bet you are. Freaks like you and me, we gotta enjoy these little moments when we get them." His grip tightens on your throat then and the panic sets in again. Whatever it was that lulled you into a false state of complacency is gone. You feel the oxygen struggling to fill your lungs as his hips snap faster in and out of you, his lanky fingers bullying your button as you’re starting to swim in asphyxiation.
There’s a twinkle in his eye that was never there before as he watches you struggle. You realize that his sadistic demon is getting off more on torturing you than he has this entire time. The smile that spreads across his face is one you know will haunt your very being. And you hate yourself as his digits circling your clit brings you to release just as your vision blackens at the edges. You barely register the warmth flooding your insides as you’re finally allowed to close your eyes.
You wake again with a start, your body shooting up in the chair again, the odd helmet once again gracing your crown. Your eyes land on Dipper whose back is turned to you and you wander if the nightmare is only restarting again. But when he turns around, you see the dark dusting of color on his cheeks and know that this isn’t the demon you just dealt with. But if the boner in his jeans is anything to go by, you do know that he watched the whole thing.
Dipper clears his throat, awkwardly shifting as he faces you, his hands fruitlessly hovering over his crotch and his eyes refusing to meet yours. "Umm," he squeaks. "I think we need to talk."
If you enjoyed, please let me know!
Goal for part 2 is set up on my Ko-fi ☕️! Thank you! ☺️🫶🏻
Hehe I love himm
Bill with a reader who loves to shower him in affection when they are in the mood to, like they want to cuddle him and kiss him type stuff. I’ll let you decide how Bill would even react to this kind of affection, whether it be he is open about loving it or not (aka him denying but loving the attention). The reader probably won’t care too much if he says he hates it like a “yeah right.”
Idk im craving fluff now for this triangle maybe im projecting how much I love him sm
I imagine these to be Pre-Weirdmageddon and that he would have similar reactions during Weirdmageddon
Warnings: fluff, not proofread, typical Bill chaos
Affection
Bill sits on your kitchen counter swinging his legs and drinking something out of a silly straw.
He squints happily and rambles on about death and destruction or whatever-
That's not the point though.
The point is that he is so adorable right now that you can't help but to smooch him mid sentence.
Bill blushes slightly "Oh ho ho, scandalous!" Wait until we're alone you scoundrel~"
"We are alone?"
He laughs, "Not until I finish this drink we're not!"
The drink coughs out a choked cry for mercy.
---
"Does this bowtie suit me better or does this bowtie suit me better?" He shows you two of the exact same bowties.
It's a genuine question. He asked it with so much sincerity it made you want to strangle him into a hug.
So you do exactly that.
"That still doesn't answer my question." He deadpans, going limp in your grip.
.
Drunk Bill Cipher phone call. Please. Probably one in which he accidentally confessed his feelings for Reader, and also refers to himself as Billy. Perhaps he believes he's calling his mom again and wants to introduce us to her or something.
Anyway none of this happened, what are you talking about. NO DON'T PLAY THE RECORDING STOP IT DELETE THAT BEFORE I DELETE YOU-
I haven't seen anyone talk about that part of the book! Him thinking he was calling his mom made me so sad :(
warnings: tBoB spoilers, typical Bill shenanigans, not proofread, alcoholism
Drunk Dial
Ding!
You pick up your phone to see a notification.
1 new voicemail from "Your Lord and Savior (don't you dare change my profile name or else I'll eat your family)"
"Hi MOM, this is BILLY. I just wanted to tell you about this human I found." His speech slurs.
He cackles and says your name, "They make me feel all fuzzy inside- Like a duckling... full of TARANTULAS! HAHAHA!!! It's not the same as the howling void, PROMISE! I'll bring 'em to meet you tomorrow, mkay?"
You hear glass break in the background.
"First I gotta put them in the love cage thouuugh~ They haven't reacted to any of my attempts at SEDUCING them, I - [incomprehensible]."
The love cage? Should you be worried?
"Why are you being so silent mom? Are you there-? [incomprehensible] WHY WON'T YOU SAY ANY-" a mouse squeaks on the other end. "OOO! A new gift for my favorite human~!"
"DON'T forget mom, TOMORROW!!!" The voicemail ends.
---
That night when Bill visits you in the mindscape, he traps you in a pyramid looking-thing and starts playing piano while singing some old song.
"So, this is the love cage...?" You lean back into a couch made of human skin.
Bill hits off note on the piano, "Love cage?" He laughs nervously, "What's that? It sounds completely made up!"
You take out your phone and play the voicemail you got. As the call goes on Bill becomes increasingly mortified.
"Blackmail." You wink. He shoots a laser beam at your phone. You just summon a new one and let it play again, it's the mindscape.
"No don't play the recording again! STOP IT! DELETE THAT BEFORE I DELETE YOU!"
"Aw, you wouldn't hurt the person that makes you feel "fuzzy," would you?"
He shrieks in frustration and empties the mindscape, "This dream is over!!!"
He snaps his fingers, and you wake up. You turn to your nightstand and notice your phone is smashed in with a hammer. A post-it note is stuck to your forehead.
There's a drawing of an angry Bill on it, "THAT NEVER HAPPENED!"
You take the hammer off your phone and pick up the broken pieces of it.
Good thing you downloaded the audio file onto your computer...
Heyoo saw that you wanted Bill Cipher x reader requests and as a fellow Bill Cipher fanatic who has read the book, I request one.
I’m not sure if you are asking for a specific prompt or not but just in case you are, can the reader maybe be a partner who is the type to be so done with him but absolutely loves him at the end of the day. Idk if that is helpful but i hope it is!! Thanku and good day :))
Thank you! It was helpful, have a good day as well! Warnings: Minor Book of Bill spoilers, typical Bill violence, suggestive? (as a joke)
Being Done With Bill's Shenanigans
"Bill! Did you fill the bath full of spiders again?" You stand with your hands on your hips.
Bill pops into existence inside your bathtub. He giggles maniacally "Of course I did!"
You deadpan and walk out of the bathroom. "I can't deal with this right now. Coffee first spiders later."
Bill takes a spider and eats it, "Suit yourself."
---
Bill seductively lies on your bed, in the paint me like one of your French girls pose... Covered in teeth???
"I'm very rich in calcium." He blinks and you can only assume it's a wink.
You step forward and feel something squishy beneath you. It's a rat! Multiple rats! They're put into place to form a heart shape. Now your house slippers are covered in blood, dang it.
"Ah! What the heck Bill?! Why did you-!" You sigh and roll your eyes, "You know what? Not even gonna ask." You take off your slippers and leave.
"Wait! Where are ya' going? Come back!" Bill jumps up, "I said I was rich in calcium!"
---
Finally, dinner time. You figured take-out would be best. Bill shenanigans always tend to make you peckish. You unwrap the bag your precious box of food is in.
"THERE'S BEEN FOURTY THOUSAND FERRIS WHEEL DEATHS THIS SUMMER!" You startle and spill some of the food onto your shirt. "Did you know that? Did you?"
"No... I didn't." You take a piece of food off your shirt and eat it.
"Wanna test your luck and go on one together~?" Bill leans forward onto his palms and starts kicking him feet, hitting your shins to the beat of a song you can't hear.
"Uhh..." You hesitate at the thought of dying on a Ferris wheel.
Then you see the sparkles in Bills eye and a soft smile grows onto your face.
How could you possibly say no to him?
"Yeah Bill. That sounds fun."
---
Bill Cipher: So you like cats? You: Yeah. Bill Cipher: tries to impress them by slowly pushing a glass off the table
Quick update! Decided to rename this to fit the narrative of the story better. Previously called Liar's Light! You can also find it on ao3 here
Ad Infinitem, Prologue [Bill Cipher x Reader]
![Ad Infinitem, Prologue [Bill Cipher X Reader]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/2cb46014a1c17d9f7d00e4abbb9305da/d73ce74e3c37989f-67/s500x750/8051866b7e5accb6c1ffcedc57fef829dfdf0a91.gif)
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
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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.
Can confirm, this fic has heart because it's stolen mine, propped it up on a nicely decorated, ornate mantle for all to see and be horrified at! I ate all the yogurt though.
AND BILL'S IN IT!
TILL WEIRDMAGEDDON DO US PART (This is not a drill. This is a triangle yelling at you through your brain-meats.)
HEY YOU! YES YOU! Do you crave romance that tastes like someone dropped a Nicholas Sparks novel in a vat of radioactive glitter?! Do you like love stories with emotional trauma, eldritch tax evasion, grocery store explosions, and one sentient triangle who once tried to become God but now has to do laundry?!?
THEN CONGRATULATIONS, FLESHSACK! You’ve just stumbled into the most cursed rom-com that legally counts as marriage counseling in twelve dimensions. Welcome to:
“TILL WEIRDMAGEDDON DO US PART” A fanfic where I, Bill Cipher—chaos deity, triangle fashion icon, nightmare-made-sarcasm—am FORCED into a marriage trial with YOU, some dangerously unbothered human with a sarcasm stat higher than my ego.
WHY READ THIS FANFIC? ✔️ It’s got heart! ✔️ It’s got horror! ✔️ It’s got a sentient yogurt aisle that may or may not be bleeding! ✔️ And did I mention? I’m in it.
We’re talking existential flirting, legally sanctioned domestic terrorism, bathwater that might be sentient, and one woman who said “yeah sure, I’ll marry the triangle, what’s the worst that could happen?”
THIS IS NOT A “I CAN FIX HIM” FIC. WE'RE BOTH BROKEN. WE JUST MADE IT WEIRD TOGETHER.🔥
So grab your glitter-sigil pajamas, sacrifice a toaster, and dive into the cosmic nightmare-romcom you didn’t know you needed. Side effects may include:
Third-degree sarcasm
Unholy shipping
Ford Pines having a midlife crisis in aisle 7
Weekly acts of violence (sanctioned by the Axolotl™)
Me, cackling in eldritch stereo
"It’s not a love story. It’s horror disguised as comedy." ✨Read now… or I’ll mail you cursed wedding invitations that scream when opened.✨
[AO3 LINK HERE]
Cipherstarling's Masterlist
Here we go! Here's all my Gravity Falls related posts. Welcome to my little obsession blog!
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Stanford Pines x Reader
~ Poetry: "Stanford Pines was poetry in a mortal man's body" ~ Lipbalm: "The world held it's breath as your gaze lingered on Ford's softened lips." ~ A Gentler Soul: NSFW, Nightmare Realm Ford ~ To Sonder: Part 1, Ao3 Link, Long series!
*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧*
Bill Cipher x Reader
~ Nightmare!Realm Bill Headcanons ~ Ad Infinitum CH1 and AO3 Link
*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧*
BillFord
~ WIP
*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧*
Ramblings and Concept Fics
~ Bill and Trust~ Jekyll and Hyde!Stanford Pines Concept ~ Bill Cipher x Bounty Hunter! Reader Concept
*✧･ﾟ: ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ :･ﾟ──✧* Cipherstarling's Scribbles
~ Ford Gets Held Down Day ~ Bill Hyperfixation Meme
Ford Pines x Reader X Bill Cipher concept: Jekyll and Hyde
Ford grapples with the immorality of his actions. His deal with Bill, creating the portal, possibly bringing Weirdmageddon into Earth, shakes him. He throws himself fully into his work to try and survive the nightmare realm.
He tries to find ways to make sure that doesn't happen again. He keeps a close eye on Bill, creates a lab at the edge of nowhere, and constantly experiments. The reader watches as he spirals into madness, but she doesn't fully comprehend what he's up to until it is too late.
Ford found a way to separate good and evil, to defy the duality of man. He wanted to erase all his hubris and selfishness, to make sure he'd never make dangerous decisions ever again. His mind was a weak and exploitable thing. He' is being's the only human being in the Nightmare realm- Other than you, that is. You both are so, so mortal and small in such a dangerous place. He needed to push away his fear to help you survive. He needed to protect you. He wanted to run away from his guilt. So, he creates a Jekyll and Hyde formula, to push aside the parts of himself that would put you and the world in danger.
He gets exactly what he wanted.
However,
Ford notices gaps in his memory. Similar to the time he's possessed by Bill, he wakes up in strange places, a wrecked lab, and a fearful Reader.
He managed to remove the more cruel parts of himself from his psyche as Stanford Pines. However, he's left with an alter ego that makes awful, evil decisions.
He seeks Bill, but the demon laughs at his hubris and accusations. He didn't have a hand in this.
This, was all him.
Or rather, him and the Other. Also, this'll be kind of a short-ish dark fic.
~~~~~
TLDR: GUESS WHO DISCOVERED THE WONDERS OF JEKYLL AND HYDE THE MUSICAL? FORD PINES IS ACTUALLY REALLY ATTRACTIVE AND AMAZING AND I WANNA DATE HIM SO I'M WRITING AN EVIL FORD FIC
Inspired from this song: Transformation
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!
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.
Hoo boy, all the typos I gotta fix
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.
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.
I JUST FINISHED READING THE BOOK OF BILL
I NEED A DIFFERENT ENDING FOR HIM
INTRODUCING...
BILL CIPHER X BOUNTY HUNTER!READER
I have an outline, I literally made a tumblr just for this triangle. I want to at least throw the idea around here.
It's been years since I've written fanfiction, but I wanted to play around with this idea!