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A week had passed since Dipper had made the deal and ended up married to Bill Cipher. Each day that ticked by felt like a slow descent into an ever-deepening surreal reality, as if the gravity of what he’d done hadn’t fully settled in. It was as if his life had slipped back into the bizarre, like he'd reentered one of those twisted, nightmare-fueled dreams from Weirdmageddon. But this was real. He was married. To Bill Cipher.
The thought alone was almost impossible to wrap his head around. The demon who once terrorized him, his family, and all of Gravity Falls, who had schemed for universal dominance and laughed at human suffering, was now... an almost constant presence in his life. Not in the same way as before, though. Bill still had that cocky swagger, that annoying, sharp grin that sent a shiver down Dipper’s spine—like he could rip reality apart at any moment if he felt like it—but something had changed. There was a shift, subtle but undeniable. Bill had mellowed out in some strange way.
There were fewer threats of being turned inside out or abstract promises of chaos that Dipper used to brush off with forced bravado. Instead, Bill had taken on a more persistent—and bizarrely domestic—role. He hovered around Dipper like a shadow, teasing him at every opportunity. Bill poked at Dipper's insecurities, his sharp comments landing with a precision that only a demon with millennia of experience could muster. And yet, somehow, there was a new dynamic behind the mockery. Beneath the snide remarks and the playful insults, there was something almost… comforting about Bill's presence.
Dipper hated to admit it, but he’d started to grow used to it—to him. The unrelenting companionship, the knowing smirk, the over-the-top laughter at his expense—it was all becoming part of his daily life. He couldn’t figure out if that was a good thing or a sign that he was losing his mind.
But now came the hardest part of all. The part that had weighed on him like a looming storm cloud for the past seven days: telling Mabel.
He stood outside her apartment, staring at the door as if it might miraculously offer some divine wisdom or at least open on its own to save him from the awkward conversation that awaited. His palms were sweaty, his nerves shot as the reality of what he was about to do sunk in deeper. His twin sister, who had been with him through thick and thin, who had always been by his side through all their Gravity Falls adventures—how was she going to take the news? What was he even supposed to say? "Hey Mabel, you know that demon who tried to take over the world? Yeah, we're married now."
Beside him, leaning casually against the wall with a smug grin plastered on his face, was Bill. He was supposed to be waiting in the car, but of course, he had insisted on tagging along. Now, he loitered with his arms crossed, watching Dipper with that infuriating look in his eye, like he was waiting for the punchline to some joke only he was in on.
“Oh come on, Pine Tree,” Bill drawled, his voice dripping with playful disdain as he leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest. His glowing golden eye glinted with amusement, while the ever-present smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. “You’ve faced down interdimensional threats, stopped a literal apocalypse, and this is what’s got your knees shaking? You’re scared of telling your sister that you and I are—what was that charming phrase you used?—oh yeah, in a strictly contract-bound relationship.” He lifted his hands, fingers wiggling theatrically in the air as he mimicked Dipper’s cautious tone. “She’s gonna be fine with it.”
Dipper shot him a sharp glare, feeling his heart thud painfully in his chest. His palms were damp, and the anxious energy inside him buzzed louder with each passing second. "This isn’t a joke, Bill,” he said, his voice tinged with frustration. His hand hovered just inches away from the doorknob, frozen in indecision. “Mabel’s... she’s not going to take this well. She’s my sister—you don’t get it. This isn’t something she’s just going to laugh off.”
Bill gave an exaggerated, lazy shrug, his glowing eye half-lidded in boredom as if the entire situation was nothing more than an inconvenience. “You fleshbags and your silly emotions,” he muttered dismissively, tilting his head in that infuriatingly casual way. “Always making things way bigger than they need to be, Pine Tree. Seriously, you’re acting like she’s going to exile you to some distant planet or something.”
Dipper clenched his fists, his stomach twisting into knots as a thousand worst-case scenarios flooded his mind. Images of Mabel’s wide eyes, the look of betrayal, her accusing voice—it all played on a loop, each version worse than the last. He knew how much Mabel cared, how fiercely protective she was, especially when it came to him. She’d been his unwavering rock through everything—the chaos of Gravity Falls, Weirdmageddon, the years of growing up. And now? Now, he was about to drop a bombshell that could shake everything.
His throat tightened, and he let out a shaky breath. “She’s going to freak out,” he muttered under his breath, more to himself than to Bill, but the thought was heavy, weighing down every word.
Bill, standing beside him, cocked his head. Though his expression remained smug, there was a slight shift in his tone. “She’s your sister,” he said, and for just a second, the arrogance seemed to soften. “She’s not gonna toss you out into the void for this.” He smirked again, his lips curling in that familiar, smug grin, but there was an odd flicker of something more behind his words. Something almost... reassuring.
Dipper tightened his grip on the door frame, feeling the weight of everything press down on him. He hated how Bill could make light of something so serious, but deep down, he couldn’t deny the truth in his words. Mabel had always been there for him—through the worst moments of his life. She’d fought through nightmares, faced unspeakable horrors, all for him. She wouldn’t turn her back on him now. She couldn’t.
Right?
“Just stay out here,” Dipper muttered, giving Bill a brief, pointed glance. He knew better than to expect the demon to actually listen, but he hoped that, just this once, Bill would respect the gravity of the situation. Bill raised an eyebrow, his ever-present smirk firmly in place, but said nothing. His glowing eye followed Dipper's every move, like a predator watching its prey, but at least he didn’t make any snide comments.
Taking a deep breath, Dipper gripped the doorknob, feeling his pulse thrum beneath his fingertips. His heart pounded in his chest as he slowly turned the knob and stepped inside, the soft creak of the door feeling much louder in the quiet.
Mabel’s apartment was exactly the way you’d imagined it would be—a vibrant explosion of color and personality. Every corner seemed to radiate her infectious energy. The walls were painted in soft pastels, adorned with hand-drawn pictures, collages of photos, and framed doodles. Glittering fairy lights draped from the ceiling, casting a warm, playful glow over the room. A plush rainbow rug covered the hardwood floor, and shelves were filled to bursting with homemade crafts, figurines, and odd little knick-knacks she’d collected over the years.
The air smelled faintly of lavender, mixing with the distinct scent of fresh paint, and a soft, upbeat song played in the background—something cheerful and bouncy, perfectly fitting Mabel’s usual mood. Dipper could already hear her humming along to the melody before he spotted her.
“Hey, bro-bro!” Mabel called out in her usual sing-song voice, turning toward him with a wide grin that lit up the entire room. She was standing on a step stool, midway through hanging up a trio of new paintings—bright, abstract pieces filled with swirls of neon colors and glitter. A smudge of paint streaked across her cheek, and her hands were splattered with various hues, evidence of her latest artistic endeavor. “You’re early!” she continued, hopping down from the stool with her typical bounce of enthusiasm. “I was just finishing up a new project. You wanna see?”
Dipper swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling the weight of what he was about to say settle like lead in his stomach. The words hovered at the back of his mind, heavy and ominous, but he wasn’t ready to let them spill out just yet. He plastered on a smile, though it felt a little shaky around the edges, and tried to match Mabel’s infectious energy. “Uh, yeah. I’d love to see it.”
Mabel’s grin widened, her brown eyes lighting up with that familiar sparkle of excitement that always seemed to brighten any room she entered. Without missing a beat, she grabbed his arm and practically dragged him across the colorful chaos of her apartment, leading him to the center of her creative universe—a brightly painted easel, splattered with every color imaginable. Resting on it was her latest masterpiece, a larger-than-life painting of Waddles, their beloved pig, perched regally atop a grassy hill.
Waddles was depicted in an exaggerated, almost heroic fashion, his little piggy face gazing out over the horizon like a king surveying his kingdom. He wore a tiny golden crown atop his head, and beneath him, a banner read in swirly pink lettering: "King Waddles, Ruler of All He Surveys."
Dipper couldn’t help but chuckle, a genuine laugh bubbling up from somewhere deep inside him, cutting through the tight coil of anxiety in his chest—at least for a moment. The ridiculousness of the painting, combined with Mabel’s obvious pride in her work, made it impossible not to smile. “That’s amazing, Mabel,” he said, and this time the words came out with real warmth. “Waddles would definitely be proud. He looks very regal.”
“Right?” Mabel beamed, practically bouncing on her toes as she put her hands on her hips, admiring her own handiwork like a true artist. “I mean, look at him! I was thinking of entering it into the art fair next month. You think I’d win?” She turned to Dipper with wide, expectant eyes, clearly fishing for approval, though she was already brimming with confidence.
“Definitely,” Dipper said, his voice barely steady, but then it faltered, the false sense of ease slipping away. His throat tightened as the weight of what he had to say loomed over him like a dark cloud. “Actually… Mabel, I, uh… I need to talk to you about something.”
Mabel’s radiant smile softened, the shift in her brother’s tone not lost on her. She turned to face him fully, concern flickering across her features like the soft dimming of a light. Her playful energy receded, replaced by a quiet seriousness. “What’s up, Dip?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she studied his face, sensing the tension beneath his forced smile.
Dipper’s mouth went dry, his heart pounding in his chest as he scrambled to find the right words. How was he supposed to explain this? How could he possibly tell her what had happened without sounding completely unhinged? He opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck, tangled in his throat like a web of thorns. His mind raced, trying to piece together something coherent, but every thought felt like it crumbled before he could grasp it.
And of course, Bill, apparently bored of Dipper’s hesitation, decided to make his grand entrance.
“Oh, come on, Pine Tree,” Bill’s voice cut through the silence like a knife, dripping with amusement and casual disdain. He stepped into the apartment with all the theatrical flair of someone who reveled in making an entrance, his hands in his pockets and a smug grin plastered across his face. “You’re killing me here with all this dramatic buildup.”
Mabel blinked in stunned silence, her eyes wide and disbelieving as she took in the sight before her. Her entire body seemed to freeze, her brain struggling to catch up with what she was seeing. She hadn’t heard that voice in years, but there was no mistaking it. “B-Bill?” she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as she took a step back, instinctively distancing herself from him. Her expression was a mixture of shock, confusion, and disbelief, as if her mind was grappling with the impossibility of the situation. “What… what are you doing here? How—”
Dipper winced, his stomach twisting with a mix of frustration and guilt. He shot Bill a seething glare, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Bill! I told you to wait outside!” His voice came out sharper than he intended, but he couldn’t help it. He was already on edge, and Bill’s sudden interruption had only made everything worse.
But Bill, of course, was completely unfazed by Dipper’s anger. He shrugged lazily, as if the entire situation was nothing more than an amusing inconvenience. “What? Thought I’d give you a little nudge,” he said with a smirk, his golden eye gleaming with mischief. “You looked like you were gonna pass out from all the tension.”
Mabel’s gaze flitted anxiously between Dipper and Bill, her confusion and fear morphing into sheer bewilderment. Her eyes darted back and forth, trying to piece together the puzzle of the scene unfolding before her. “What’s going on? Why is he here? Dipper?” Her voice trembled slightly, a mix of alarm and incredulity seeping through.
Dipper took a shuddering breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders. His heart raced, pounding so loudly he could barely hear himself think. He forced himself to meet Mabel’s gaze, his eyes full of worry and a tinge of guilt. “Mabel… Bill and I… we made a deal. A week ago.”
Mabel’s eyebrows knitted together, her expression one of deepening disbelief. “A deal?” she echoed, her voice rising with incredulity. “What kind of deal?”
Dipper’s throat felt dry and tight, his nerves fraying as he struggled to find the right words. He could feel his pulse quickening, a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck. “We… well… we’re kind of… bound together now. Like, legally. It’s complicated, but—”
Before he could continue, Bill, with his ever-present smirk, interjected with a flourish. “We’re married,” he announced with a mischievous grin, clearly relishing the shock he knew this would provoke.
Dipper’s eyes widened in horror, and he nearly choked on his own breath. “Bill!” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of frustration and panic. The situation was spiraling out of control faster than he could manage.
Bill, unperturbed by Dipper’s outburst, raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. His grin remained, wide and unapologetic. “What? Just thought I’d speed things up,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. His golden eye gleamed with a blend of amusement and mischief.
Mabel stood there, her face drained of color, her eyes wide with shock as her mind struggled to grasp the reality infront of her. Her mouth hung slightly open, as if the words she’d just heard had knocked the breath out of her, leaving her unable to process them fully. “Wait… married? You… and Bill?” Her voice was a mixture of disbelief and confusion, each word trembling as if unsure of its own validity.
Dipper, seeing the panic rising in Mabel’s eyes, shook his head vigorously, desperate to clarify. “No, no, not actually married,” he stammered, his own anxiety evident in his rushed explanation. “It’s just a contract thing. I mean, yes, we’re technically married in the legal sense, but it’s not—”
Mabel’s eyes narrowed, and she raised a hand, her palm open as if to physically block out the confusing information. “Wait, wait, wait. Back up. You made a deal with Bill Cipher. As in, the same Bill Cipher who nearly ended the world and turned everything into a nightmare carnival?”
Bill, ever the picture of insouciance, leaned against the wall with an air of casual amusement. He smirked, lifting his hand in a mock two-fingered salute and adding a sly wink. “That’s the one! Good times, huh?”
Dipper shot Bill an irritated glare, feeling a pang of frustration as he watched his demon spouse’s nonchalance. Turning back to Mabel, he tried to inject a note of seriousness into his voice, hoping it would bridge the gap between her fear and the reality of their situation. “Yeah, it sounds insane, but it’s not what you think. Bill’s bound by a contract this time—my contract. He can’t hurt anyone, and he can’t even attempt to bring Weirdmageddon back. Ever.” He took a deep, steadying breath, trying to quell the storm of worry building in Mabel’s eyes. “Look, I know what he did before—I haven’t forgotten. But things are different now. He’s powerless to do any real harm, and every loophole is sealed.”
Mabel stared at Dipper, her face a mask of tight-lipped tension, her expression unreadable as she struggled to process the weight of his words. Her eyes darted between Dipper and Bill, a storm of thoughts and emotions clearly racing behind her gaze.
The room fell into an uneasy silence, broken only by the soft hum of the ceiling light and the distant sound of traffic outside. Mabel's lips moved slightly, as if she were about to speak but couldn’t quite find the words. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she broke the silence with a quiet, almost hesitant voice. “Why, Dipper?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Why would you do this?”
Dipper let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair, his fingers trembling slightly as he tried to gather his thoughts. He could feel Mabel's eyes on him, her expression expectant, concerned, maybe even a little hurt. It made the words stick in his throat, but he had to say something. He had to make her understand. “It’s complicated, Mabel,” he began, his voice laced with frustration and resignation. “I don’t trust him, not completely, but I know he won’t hurt me. And he’s—”
Before he could finish, Bill interjected with a flourish, his grin widening to a playful, almost mocking extent. “I’m completely head over heels for him,” Bill declared with an exaggerated flourish, his voice dripping with a parody of affection, the kind that could only come from someone who had seen too many human romantic comedies and decided to mock them all at once. “Can’t resist that Pine Tree charm.”
The twins’ reaction was instantaneous and synchronized—a sharp glare directed at Bill, who promptly started snickering at the reaction. Mabel’s eyes then looked back at Dipper, filled with a mix of frustration and disbelief. Her gaze locked onto Dipper as she sought clarity. “Is this really what you want?” Mabel asked, her voice steadier now, though a trace of uncertainty lingered. Her eyes searched Dipper’s face for any sign of hesitation or doubt, hoping to understand the depth of his decision.
Dipper nodded slowly, his expression a blend of determination and weary acceptance. “I don’t know if it’s what I want, exactly,” he admitted, his voice softening as he spoke, “but it’s what I need to do. Bill’s part of my life now, and I’m… I’m okay with it. I just needed to let you know.”
Mabel remained silent, her gaze fixed on Dipper as she absorbed his words. The silence stretched on, filled with the weight of unspoken emotions and the gravity of their shared past. Finally, after a long moment of contemplation, she let out a deep breath, her shoulders relaxing slightly. A soft, sincere smile began to form on her lips. “Okay,” she said gently, her voice tinged with a blend of acceptance and support.
Dipper blinked, taken aback by her immediate and seemingly unconditional response. “Okay?”
Mabel nodded, her smile growing warmer and more genuine. “If you’re sure about this,” she said with quiet conviction, “then I’ll support you, Dipper. I just want you to be safe and happy. And if that means dealing with Bill… well, then I’ll deal with Bill.”
Bill, clearly delighted by Mabel’s acceptance, clapped his hands together with an exaggerated flourish, his grin turning into an enthusiastic smirk. “Oh, I like her, Pine Tree. She’s got spunk.”
Dipper chose to ignore Bill’s continued antics, instead focusing on the wave of relief that washed over him. His shoulders sagged as the tension slowly melted away, a grateful sigh escaping his lips. “Thanks, Mabel,” he said sincerely, his voice filled with appreciation. “That means a lot.”
Mabel's warm smile at Dipper quickly faded, her brows knitting together in a stern frown as she turned her attention to Bill. Her finger shot up, pointed directly at the demon, and her voice took on an edge of warning. “But if you hurt him—”
Bill, ever the showman, raised both hands in mock surrender, though for once, there was a glimmer of something genuine in his eyes. “Oh, don’t worry, Shooting Star,” he said, his usual playful tone softening just enough to sound almost sincere. “I’ve got no plans to hurt your precious brother. In fact, I’d say keeping him in one piece is pretty high on my to-do list.”
Mabel’s frown lingered for a moment, her eyes narrowing as if weighing the truth of his words. She was no stranger to Bill’s slippery nature, and she wasn’t about to let her guard down just because he said the right thing. Still, after a few tense seconds, she lowered her hand and gave a slow nod, though her eyes remained sharp. “Good,” she said, her tone still firm. “Because if you do, it won’t just be me you’ll have to deal with.”
Bill chuckled, clearly amused by her boldness, but he didn’t push it. He simply winked, clearly entertained by the threat. “Noted, Shooting Star. I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Satisfied for now, Mabel turned back to Dipper, her expression softening again, though there was still a hint of wariness in her eyes. “Alright, then,” she said, her voice lighter now. “I guess we’re all good here. For now, anyway.”
The colorful apartment, with its bright fabrics and quirky knick-knacks, seemed to reflect the shift in the room’s energy. The tension that had hung over them like a dark cloud gradually lifted, replaced by a tentative sense of ease. Mabel’s presence, as always, brought a warmth that softened even the sharp edges of the bizarre situation Dipper had found himself in.
Dipper, standing between his sister and the demon who had once been his worst enemy, let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. The weight on his chest eased slightly, and though the future still loomed uncertain and full of potential complications, for now, he felt a sense of relief. Mabel’s support, her unwavering belief in him, was like a lifeline. No matter how strange things got, as long as he had her in his corner, he could face whatever came next.
Bill, lounging with his usual smug confidence, glanced between the Pines twins, clearly content with how things had turned out. “Well, now that we’ve got the family blessing,” he drawled, stretching his arms dramatically, “I think it’s time to celebrate. Maybe with a little chaos later—nothing too big, just a taste.”
Dipper rolled his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in the faintest hint of a smile. “Don’t push your luck, Bill.”
As they stood there, surrounded by the bright colors and comforting chaos of Mabel’s apartment, the tension shifted into something lighter, something more bearable. Dipper wasn’t naïve—he knew there would be challenges ahead, moments of doubt and difficulty as he navigated this strange new connection with Bill. But for now, in this moment, he had the support of the one person who had always been there for him.
And that was enough.