Before "The Book of Bill" is released, I wanted to finally put out my thoughts that have been plaguing me for years now.
Bill's repentance from the axolotl, is being sent to "another place, another time."
And his statue is in our world, just as he is in their world. But in the Graphic novel, there are two instances of ciphers that say "Cipher lives." Along with Stan acting very off during the duration of the Cipher Hunt.
Tons of people believe in Same Coin Theory...
But, I have an even crazier theory!
[Preface: We know our universe is "canon" (as Canon as it can get) to the Gravity Falls universe, because at the end of Journal 3, it's basically spelled out to you that once Ford dropped the books into the bottomless pit, they ended up here. Alex and Rob Renzetti both said that the journal is as Canon compliant to the show as it can be (the show being the end all be all of canon.)]
In our world, Stan and Soos don't exist. But we hear them constantly throughout the clues of Cipher Hunt. Stan is even singing "We'll meet again." Which Bill sang in the finale. And the axolotl specifically stated "another place, another time." For Cipher only. Not Stan and Soos as well. So, why do we keep hearing them? Bill is shown multiple times to be perfect at imitating voices. He imitates Soos in Dreamscaperers. It's implied that he imitates Dipper in Sock Opera. Etcetera, etcetera!
What is a bigger penance than introducing yourself to a gigantic platform, as the villain, and even showing that you lost. That you were destroyed. Not by magic, just by a man who cares about his family. And in this new world, that man shares a few things in common with you. Well, the main thing he shares, is the same voice. Stan Pines and Bill Cipher share the same voice. Or more importantly, the same voice actor. Who is also the creator of the hit TV show Gravity Falls.
So, my theory is that Bill Cipher got sent to our dimension. And to not shirk the blame, but to show our world what a monster he is, showed us his downfall as a villain. So yes, in the Cipher Hunt, we hear Stan acting not himself. But here's the thing, that wasn't Stan. It was Alex. Bill was using Alex to create the Cipher Hunt, the literal headstone of Gravity Falls, Bill's final resting place. Bill was imitating Stan and Soos' voices, but not because he was imitating them, he was using Alex's vocal abilities. Who set up the Cipher Hunt? Alex. Who created Gravity Falls? Alex. And what is my damning pieces of evidence? In the Cipher Hunt treasure box, a drawing of Stan, Soos, and McGucket on there, all with their signatures. And when you shined a blacklist on it, Bill was drawn there too, with his signature, saying 'Stay Paranoid.' And on a card, all of the characters, in blacklight, had Bill's eyes. You know the last signature on both drawings? Alex Hirsch. To announce his own Reddit ask me anything, Bill sent out several tweets on Alex's Twitter. And even said he made a deal with Alex at one point.
Throughout the Weirdmageddon trilogy, not only at the end of the credits, the backwards whispering is Bill saying "I'm watching you." It also says instead of created by Alex Hirsch, created by Bill Cipher.
And what is at the end of the TV show, Gravity Falls? A flickering video of Bill's statue, the first clue of the Cipher Hunt. And if you find him and shake his hand, like "Stan" told you to, he might not need penance. He might not need one man's body. He already has a legion of worshippers in this universe that "Alex" helped him obtain. Why not put them to good use?
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@scripted-downfall a continuation? To the Curt falls au? You bet! You know how much of a freak I am for good quality angst, especially when it involves these two!
"Cynthia, there's an MI6 agent waiting for you outside."
It wasn't often that anyone caught Cynthia at a good time. She was an incredibly busy woman, and that often meant that everything she did was held up in some kind of queue.
Owen had been told this in brief when he'd quietly requested to see her, but he'd insisted that he could wait. He had to. He owed Curt this much.
Barb had insisted he come back with her, since he was so desperate to give Cynthia the news himself. He was very much fine with the idea of calling her, especially since seeing her in person would be such a difficult ordeal, but Barb had suggested talking to her in person until the idea became vaguely imprinted in his mind. Then he couldn't let it go, even though he knew it was the wrong direction to take this in.
He'd been trying to hold himself together for hours. His heart had broken when the facility had fallen, and he felt like he'd been left with a tiny bucket, trying to get it all into shape again before he cracked in front of Curt's goddamn boss of all people.
He was close enough that he could hear the conversation in Cynthia's office, and he leaned in a little closer to catch it, absently running a hand through his hair to make himself look more presentable. God, he really hoped he wasn't still covered in brick dust...
"MI6? What the hell do they want?" Cynthia asked, and then paused in her tracks. "Who even is it?"
"He called himself Carvour?"
"Oh..." she hummed like that was in some way surprising, her expression softening. MI6 never wanted anything good, and the fact that most of them travelled in to give their official business made most of them worse. Knowing it was Owen changed things a little. Not a lot, he could still have been sent by his superiors just because he was in the area, but enough to make her reconsider how snappy she was going to be...
Then, she remembered that he had been on that mission with Curt, so he couldn't possibly have come with anything like that. Her expression softened ever so slightly. "Let him in."
Owen heard that and just about managed to stand and straighten himself up before Susan opened the door and stood aside to let him in. "Agent..."
"Thank you..." He wandered in through the open door, looking to his best ability like he was here for a purpose that hadn't already caused him that much heartbreak. All semblances of professionalism had been completely eradicated when he'd come out of there bleeding and broken but very much still alive.
Why? It had been a string of convneiences that had gotten him to where he was right now. Luck, or chance, or something else he didn't fully believe in. He was the only one left, out of dozens of agents working the facility. There were razor blades in his throat, dust clogging his airways, and a deep, inescapable feeling of emptiness pitted up in his chest, but he was alive, wasn't he?
Getting out had never felt like such a curse before.
"Owen? What happened to you, you look like shit..."
Hearing Cynthia's voice again brought him out of his thoughts, and hearing the door close behind him brought him back to the present. He was trying to keep a sturdy grip on reality, so he could stay here, in this conversation he was about to have with Cynthia. He didn't care if he faded out later, but right now, it was imperative that he was as present as he could be.
"Hello, Miss Houston..." He managed. His throat was still dry, but at least speaking didn't hurt as much as it had a few hours ago. He watched Cynthia frown, her brow drawing together.
"God, you sound like shit too... Need something strong? Whiskey?"
"Please..."
Susan brought the decanter, and Cynthia pulled two glasses from a tray behind her, filling them both with the amber liquid, and the air with the fiery scent of it.
Owen took his glass with a grateful nod, and almost relished in the way the first sip burned all the way down his throat. It didn't make that particular situation any better, but he'd already lost the comfortable facade; he supposed it couldn't exactly get much worse.
"Okay, so what's the deal?" Cynthia asked, leaning back in her chair. "What brings you all the way out to Washington?" Her voice was surprisingly soft, for her standards. She'd registered the change in accent, realised she'd never heard Owen sounding quite like that before, and came to the conclusion that something particularly awful had to have happened.
"I've come to make a report." Owen answered simply, hoping for all it was worth that she hadn't picked up on his breath starting to run short. At the end of the day, did it really matter if she blamed him for Curt's death? He was already there, what was one more person?
And it wasn't like it was untrue, as far as these things went...
She raised an eyebrow. "You do realise this isn't your agency, right, Carvour?"
"I know. But I'd rather you heard this from me than anyone else. It's about Curt..."
"What did he do this time?"
"No, it's... Not about what he did... I lost him. He's dead." Best to be out with it quickly, he supposed. He sighed, just waiting for her reaction. Every passing second was one more where the deep pit of residing anxiety got worse. Where he felt more and more hot pricks at his eyes. Where his guilt started to rack up on itself and morph into real, genuine grief. Hearing himself say those words wasn't right. Curt should be here right now. The two of them should be returning the blueprints together.
Cynthia fell silent for a little longer than Owen cared to admit was comfortable. "What happened?"
"There was... A miscalculation on the explosives timers. We were cornered by a group of agents, but when they went off, we had a chance to escape. One of them- the explosives, that is- went off while we were running. Curt fell. I couldn't reach him in time."
Had that come out faster than he'd intended? Did any of that even make sense? He held his breath, hoping that she had at least grasped part of it.
She nodded slowly, seemingly understanding. He knew she'd never really had the greatest affinity for Curt. Sometimes she could be unnecessarily hard on him, but she'd also seen how much of a wreck he was over his death, so he thought the least she could do was try and show a little sympathy.
Her gaze dropped into her glass and she sighed. That was... A start, at least.
"Oh god..."
"Like I said, I'd rather you heard it from me than someone else..."
"I fucking knew Mega's recklessness was gonna get him killed one of these days. I just... Didn't think it'd actually happen. Thanks for... Coming, Agent Carvour. Where are you going from here?"
"I don't know," Owen frowned, drawing himself back a little. There was an uncompromised location in Chicago that was still a good bet, but he didn't know whether he'd be able to face it without Curt. They'd shared that space for so long that it would seem entirely alien to go there alone, to wait for a man who would never turn up late again.
"I don't know what I'm gonna do."
--
Somewhere off the North American continent, a man woke up in a cell. His face and chest were tight with fresh stitches and new scars, his every breath seemed to heave, and he could feel new bites of pain flooding through him every time he tried to move.
From where he was, he could just about make out a large, dramatic burn mark spread across one of his biceps, that he could feel spreading across his shoulder blades and partway down his back. His memory was a patchwork of fire and rubble, but he remembered someone stepping away from him. Watching him fall. Running the other way. That someone had a face, and a name, and a history. With him.
Owen Carvour.
His face twisted. The memory of the name was enough to sting. Owen had left him there to die. Where was he now? Had he gotten away? Some could be so lucky...
Owen was a free man. Where did that leave him? A prisoner. Captured and broken and alone. No end in sight, nothing beyond these four walls.
The door in front of him opened and a man walked in. Perfectly polished, looking down on him like he was a fly on the wall.
"Good to see you made it through, Agent Mega..."
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The world has not done me any better, been rrading 2ha and all i can think about is Ashborn/Antares as Jinhae brainrot:
In their past life Antares had a deep obsession with Ruler Ashborn and the same could be said for the ladder but Ashborn didnt know how to express much of his love and ended up hurting him even more as a result.
Antares wouldnt care for a single moment whenever or not he was constly hurt by how much Ashborn seemed to care for others more than himself or him, whereas Ashborn didnt seem to notice that Antares was deeply in love and tried to see just how far that love truly ran since he wasnt sure that a dragon, much less a fragment of darkness could actually love.
Unfortunatly when he ended up noticing that he had fallen to the dragon's undying devotion, he decided to distance himself and push him aside because Ashborn was more so devoted to the Absolute Being and though that all his faith might shatter if the two actually were to become lovers, since– thats not how they were designed, they are to be rivals not lovers, thats what his god wanted— and so when the time came he fiercely fought with Antares and left him to almost bleed to death.
This is when Antares realized that he should have never tried to chase any kind of love and started to realize thag Ashborn had never loved him in the first place, so from that day on he swore to kill everyone and become the most powerful being in existence so that Ashborn can die at his hands.
And die he did, but only to pass his powers to his sucessor.
Even when he standed a top the world as the strongest being, his new incarnation had killed him, and he swore he would one day destroy him.
But alas he somehow ended up in the body of a child of 12, maybe 13 something like that. It was a girl with no parents, no lineage, no story of her own except for having a strong physique, capable of holding the small remnants of his soul left and somehow still being mentally strong so as to fight off much of his horrible personality.
Thus with all the knowledge in the world about magic, in a world with none of it, and being the emperor of a now ransacked, brutally massacred and destroyed empire, he had no choice but to stay low and find a way to become just as powerful as before and this time destroy Jinwoo!
Since no one liked this girl as much to begin with, Anatres managed to blend his own ambitions with Haeins pretty well and become adapted into society for a good while until, shocker.
Just as he was about to train he was about to heal himself after exterting too much power in the young girl's body to win the race, his old enemy, lover and killer appeared right in front of him.
And yeah, that was definetly Ashborn, kind both in monarch and ruler form, but also with detached eyes watching everyone in the world like a lonesome god, alien to evrrything and at the same time not.
He looked as though he had been at the start of the universe, and at the same time he smiled like a little boy.
Jinwoo went on to heal her calf and Haein asked of him just how he did that, but deep inside other questions arose too, why are you here? Do you know me? What do you want for me? Do you want to kill me again? Hah! I wont let you. This time I shall be the one to send you to your own damn pits of slumber!
And Jinwoo of course replied innocently, not knowing the true soul behind this little girl as he said "Ill tell you everything if you have a race with me."
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