Just remembered I can bring this drawing back from high school.
Oh no! He's falling apart
family therapeutic dream demon beatdown tonight
(Click for better resolution)
For anyone who missed us at ECCC or wasn't there to catch the Ciphertologists, this is the recreation+ (with new original content!) pamphlet we were handing out! Now you, too, can spread the word of Bill Cipher
These were handed out with an additional flier explaining how you can donate to Grief and Hope fundraiser to help LA artists recovering from the fire, as a call to action for all the true Billievers out there
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
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.
Just some headcanons I've been thinking about lately.
Stanford really went for 12 PhDs just to find a moment to brag and tell someone he has a PhD for every finger he had.
Talking about a single bill book page under here
The thing about this page is, for something that was supposedly ripped out, it doesn't really contain anything that strikes me as needing.... to have been... ripped out.
Sure, he talks about being lonely here and maybe that could be embarrassing to him, but it's not like he hasn't talked about being an outcast before, his entire about page has a section dedicated to his trials and tribulations with his peers when he was younger.
Additionally, there's many times in the journal where he seems to have written something he feels he shouldn't have. Though ripping that thing out isnt usually his method of choice. He much prefers to scratch things out.
Why couldn't the page have existed like this? Or even, if the entire thing truly is too embarrassing to have in your journal, why did you write it there in the first place?
It seems to me that the only reason this page was included with the other Bill pages was to set up the narrative of Ford's loneliness. (That within Journal 3 proper isn't really needed, because one can already ascertain that...). Doyalist reason? Sure, Alex is trying to set up his story. Watsonian reason? Naturally you turn it around and see it as Bill trying to set up his own story.
This page's existence in general isn't the only beef I have with it though. While we're meant to accept it on the basis that he ripped this out, Ford engaging with personal feelings, especially negative ones like this in such a blatant way is... unusual. I'd say he's much more prone to distracting himself away from that sort of thing with his work.
For the journal especially, this page would have to take place pretty early, as it's supposed to be pre-Bill. Which is weird, considering a later page in the original J3...
Of course, like I said, we the audience can understand Ford is lonely. And I'm not trying to say he doesn't know it himself, but he does not engage with it.
The thing about this page though, is that it's much more than just a single spot where Ford's own loneliness is mentioned. It's a turning point for the way Ford writes. Prior to Fiddlefords arrival, Stanford takes a few pages to introduce himself, then everything following is either an anomaly page or the occasional muse page. Like I said before, it's all very work-focused.
After Fiddleford comes to town, Ford is forced to feel the full extent how lonely he's truly been, and he starts to write a lot of pages of his and Fiddleford's adventures together, including his feelings during. (insert everyones favorite lines here:)
But he also starts to write about something else...
Over
and over
and over
again...
Fiddleford's renewed presence in his life really opened some mental-block floodgates in Ford's mind. From experience, sometimes you really aren't faced with how truly lonely you are until you are provided with some respite from it.
Again, I would like to say, it's not that I think he wasn't lonely before. He definitely was, and it's certainly part of why Bill was able to target him. But would he have written it out like that at that point in time? In the journal no less?
I dont really think so. I think he was doing everything in his power not to think or feel it.
And writing it down isn't really what I'd call conducive to that.
og pic!⬇️
LIL SOMETHIN SOMETHIN FOR YA 👀 SHIPPING WILL START ON THE 23Rd!!!!
Let's write!20+ | She/her | Artist and fanfic writer | MDNI for your own safety.
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