The first thing he was aware of was the darkness of the room, the flickering blue glow of the ancient TV the only source of light. He could see the dark greyness of the night sky and the black outline of the pine trees against it through the kitchen window, and for a brief moment he wondered what idiot had just let him fall asleep on the living room couch instead of forcibly relegating him to the crummy room downstairs with the stinkbug infestation where he was allowed to sleep. Serves them right, he was totally going to trash the kitchen now.
Then he went to push himself upright and was stopped by a weight on his chest.
Oh. This idiot.
Dipper was asleep on top of him, one leg between Bill’s long ones and the other hanging off the couch. His head was resting just below the demon’s sternum and his arms were draped around Bill’s ribcage.
Bill froze with one hand on the back of the couch and the other on the seat, the leg Dipper was resting on already sparking with pins and needles and the other one thrown over the opposite arm of the couch. His first instinct was to shove the brat off and bolt. He hated being touched, especially by humans, and especially by these humans in particular. He was ancient, he was a god, they had no right to put their grubby paws on his physical form no matter how humanoid it was or how friendly they thought they were being. He didn’t mind touching them, i.e. initiating contact–like how he’d put one leg on Dipper’s lap and the other behind him to make the kid’s TV watching even more uncomfortable aaaand that more or less explained how they’d wound up like this–but he hated when they initiated contact with him. High fives, pats on the shoulder or head, a tug on his coat or sleeve, even when people brushed past him–it made him feel pathetically mortal, and he refused to be one of them.
But he didn’t unceremoniously toss Dipper onto the floor and teleport away. He just…stopped.
The boy looked far more peaceful than Bill had honestly ever seen him. And, he’d seen the kid in sleep, so what made this different? A different dream, something different he’d ingested into his flesh sack before he’d clocked out that had given him pleasanter dreams?
Or was it–no, that was ridiculous. He hated the sweaty teen and he was hated right back in return.
Well, either way this was blackmail material. He could lord it over Dipper’s head to finagle a different room or better food from him–or just threaten to tell and keep the boy continually on his toes, continually afraid of Bill claiming the debt owed.
But…Dipper could also hold it over his head if he was smart enough to. And the boy was quite intelligent, it was one of the reasons Bill was honestly happier–and he used happier loosely–that he was bound to him and not the sister. Although he admired the latent chaos in the girl, he hated being human and he didn’t have the energy for her undying optimism and friendliness. Who needed friends, anyway? But that was the whole issue. Dipper was friends with all the other fools, and who were the rest of the humans more likely to believe? That was a whole slew of things he didn’t want to deal with.
He carefully pushed Dipper’s head off his stomach and sat up, scooting back and pulling his leg free before lowering the boy back to the couch. He was about to walk away when Dipper stirred and murmured something.
Bill went still as a statue, hardly daring to believe he hadn’t just had an auditory hallucination. They happened every now and then when he took on a body, a glitch in the wiring of his mortal form’s puny brain–but this wasn’t a construct or a host or a shapeshift, it was, as far as he could tell, him, just…shaped differently.
But then he heard it again.
The demon stood in silence in the darker part of the room, the TV flickering some 80s sitcom in the corner of his eye, and did not move. He tried to walk over the threshold and to the basement stairs, but something was holding him back, and he couldn’t explain it.
And so he went over to the boy.
And very carefully lifted him into his arms.
And carried Dipper upstairs to his room.
He set the boy down in his unmade bed–what a slob this child was–with care that surprised even him, lowering Dipper’s messy head onto the pillow and then half-heartedly pulling part of the blanket, but not the thin cotton sheets underneath, over the teen’s torso. Let the kid think Stan or Ford had carried him up here, even though he was the only one in the building physically capable of carrying a nearly-grown 17-year-old such a long distance, and Dipper probably knew that.
He paused and looked down at the kid. Why did he want to smooth those messy bangs back from the little nerd’s forehead? Was it their bond that was making him act like this?
Or was it the fact that in his sleep, Dipper had whispered his name?
The whole thing left him uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to break the boy’s peaceful slumber by setting him on fire or something. Not for the first time, he longed to be able to jump into the dream realm. Maybe then he’d know what thoughts consumed this kid’s head when he whispered the name of the demon he hated.
Bill stepped away from the bed and headed towards the door, then paused again. Against his better judgement, he glanced over his shoulder again, and after a moment he said quietly, “You’re…probably my favorite meatbag, y’know? And that’s really the only reason I didn’t toss you onto the floor.” He snorted. “Look at me, going soft…” His voice softened. “I like you, kid. So for that…we just won’t mention this tomorrow.”
As the door shut behind him, Dipper blinked blearily and smiled.
Headcannon: Some time into the future, where dipper is well established as Alcor the Dreambender, and Mabel has reincarnated plenty of time, he finds a music group popping up, and it reminds him of a boy band Mabel fell in love with that summer. It's Sevral Timez. The original ones. They are still alive, and still the same. Candy said they wouldn't last a week. They instead lasted several centuries.
Bipper: HOLY HELL YOU MEATSACKS ARE PERSISTENT. THERE. I KISSED THE DUMB HUMAN, WILL YOU PLEASE DROP THE TOPIC OF US PAIRING UP FOR ONCE? THIS IS NOT A SHOW FOR YOU! Dipper: Who the hell are you talking to????
HeadCrack: What if the Eversoul tree (because I abso-fudging-lutely LOVE that hc) and its abilities grow until-BOOM. SENTIENT TREE. (to go with that sentient object friends idea someone had) And then the tree slowly brings the rest of earth's flora to sentience through its roots spreading until Dipper has a run-in with Mother Nature and she's like "sup maker" and he's like "0-0"
Dipper is now 2 for 2 with supernatural beings he accidentally made out of Henry
Oh for the fic thing! (Moar ideaz) 23. Things you said [when you saved my life] With your Siren Bill and lil Dipper! or alternate 23. Things you said [when i came back to thank you for saving my life] ? Or anything with your Siren Bill... he a cutie X3
Here’s the first of three!
BillxDipper Siren’s Kiss AU Bill to Dipper WARNINGS: Dipper is a child and the relationship happens between them IN THE FUTURE ONLY.
there was a tearjerker musical based on Mabel and her work on the transcendence that includes dipper's life during Mabel's later years, she complements the creators by saying "congrats you made Alcor cry" it was actually said that in all future productions of the show, you can hear Alcor cry when he hears the duet of Mabel as an adult being wished luck by the spirit of her twin brother singing the finale as he ascends to heaven.