Prompt: Would you consider doing a eldritch bill fic where dip enters the mindscape crying and hurt and bill just launches into coddling horror monster mode and wraps dip in tentacles, hands and soft kisses (and maybe revenge on those who hurt his bby)

Story One: The Death of Me - Hurt/Comfort

Bill can count the number of times he's seen Dipper truly cry on one hand. There are occasions when laughter makes his eyes water, when he's oversensitive from coming again and again, or when he panics and the frustration leads to his eyes misting over but Dipper rarely sheds actual tears; Bill makes sure he has no reason to. So when Dipper does cry it is always a shock to his system, as if the experience is Bill's own. Nothing sets him on edge faster than seeing the boy in tears, perhaps the only worse things is seeing Mabel sad because it's so much rarer for her to show such an emotion and, when she does, it almost always means Dipper will be upset too.

It's honestly disgusting how responsive the demon has become to humans and their nonsense emotions. Sadness, tears, heartache: they serve no purpose but to hinder the species. What's the point of tears? What does a flow of saltwater do? It doesn't stave off their enemies or bring them power, it's useless like so many other aspects of the human form and yet, without fail, his chest seizes with terror each time he sees his Sapling's eyes glaze over and his lips tremble.

For a moment, when the boy appears before him, a splash of color in the midst of endless grey, Bill is overwhelmed with rage not only at the thought of someone hurting the boy but at Dipper himself for making him feel something so acutely painful and foreign. The anger passes quickly, however, because those dark eyes are filled with pain and his shoulders are shaking so violently Bill worries he might be about to break down fully.

The demon's soul experiences a sensation not unlike being torn open. He hates it.

Bill's form shifts almost immediately from energy to flesh and he sweeps forward to tug Dipper into his arms, holding him close. Dipper's body practically melts against his own, slipping to fit into his contours like he was meant to. Luckily, Bill can bear his weight with ease, looping an arm around his waist and sliding the other to support his upper back. He grips the base of Dipper's neck to ground him, lithe fingers massaging the tense muscle and his shaking dies down. Only then does he finally kiss Dipper, a small, chaste press of lips to temple, stiff and unpracticed especially due to his lingering irritation.

"What's wrong?" he breathes against the man's skin before kissing the spot again and nosing at his soft curls. Dipper's body is solid and warm as always yet he seems surprisingly frail now, his tanned skin washed out and bags standing out beneath his eyes like fresh bruises. It makes Bill sick to see his beautiful boy in such a state and it only agitates him more. "Tell me," he urges and kisses along his cheekbone, taking a moment to mouth at the skin, rough and fumbling so his breath hitches but not forceful. "Who did this to you?"

"It's nothing," he croaks, voice wrecked, and the darkness that fills Bill's form like cotton in a doll begins to boil and coil, pressing against the seams of this human mask until they strain, seeming to burn him from the inside out so his skin is raw to touch and he's itching to inflict the same pain on another. "I just…" His words get stuck in his throat and he sobs quietly, hiding his face in the crook of Bill's neck, breath hot and skin clammy. He's shaking like a leaf.

Bill is relieved he doesn't see the tar spilling from his back, his anger literally overflowing until his inhuman appendages are lashing behind him, swirling and tumbling around them, eager to both wrap the boy up in their comforting night and seek blood for reprisal. He squeezes the nape of his neck, preparing to draw him away in order to properly take care of whatever has happened, but Dipper raises his head and looks up at the demon pleadingly, successfully making his resolve waver.

"I'm serious," he rasps as if he can read his lover's mind, "it's not worth it. Just-just hold me…"

"Kid," he grits back and his form builds like storm clouds around them, restless and hungry, "if someone hurts you, you hurt them back."

"An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind."

"An eye for an eye makes the whole world a better place because assholes who go around taking eyes get what they fucking ask for."

That shocks a laugh out of Dipper and he smiles wetly up at Bill, so sincere yet shaky that the phantom heart in Bill's chest twinges with adoration, the need to protect and comfort finally converging. He envelopes the boy in his endless arms, tentacles, and searching lips, gentle with the human's butterfly-wing skin and glass bones. Mouths find his hands, dry and mangled lips kissing each knuckle, fingertip, palm and wrist. Fingers and tongues catch up his tears to make it as if they were never there. Hands slide over his tired eyes, cool flesh a balm to the burning heat of Dipper's skin, and he lets out all of his breath, trusting the heartless horror that is Bill Cipher to catch him when he falls.

Bill's body shifts around him, very carefully easing the boy off his feet and back, to sit, drawing him away from the human vessel until his hand shoots out and catches it by the wrist. "Can I have the human part, too?" he asks, suddenly cautious and almost embarrassed, his fingers releasing Bill's human form as if he's ashamed for grabbing him.

Bill doesn't respond verbally, he's not sure he can at this point. Instead he awkwardly moves to join Dipper on his bed of ink and tar, kneeling to straddle his lap, nuzzling his curls and petting the tufts of hair along his jaw. He relaxes immediately, burying his face in the demon's chest and looping his arms around his waist as he takes deep breaths of his scent, nose trailing along his collarbone.

Feeling hollowed out from emotion and slightly angry with himself, Bill is glad to keep him blind, unable to face his searching eyes, at least not now. He carefully nudges the hands, all ebony carapace and claw, out of his way and brushes the boy's untamed hair from his forehead, giving his birthmark a kiss. Dipper grows still, breathing shallow and heart like a bird's wings.

"You're still such a child, sometimes…" Bill whispers, voice barely there over the slick slide of alien appendages and the scraping of scales. He drags his nails against the man's scalp lightly before petting the soft strands thoughtfully. "Don't allow them to hurt you like this or I won't. And you won't like it if I have to get involved."

Dipper opens his mouth to object but Bill quickly quiets him with a kiss, catching his bottom lip between his own to nip gently before soothing the small hurt with a flick of his tongue. Dipper follows him when he leans away, making a soft, disquieted noise that makes Bill want to do it again and again. The boy worms his fingers beneath Bill's own, the ones hiding his eyes, and the demon grunts in disapproval only to have Dipper push them away with more vehemence.

"I mean it. You look gross when you cry," he adds stiffly, voice oddly rough and distant even to his own ears, just as Dipper's eyes are unveiled, alight and alive, shining even in the endless night of this eldritch horror as if all of the stars have been plucked from the sky and placed in the boy's mind. "I don't want to have to deal with that," he finishes hoarsely, words hollow even to him.

Dipper smiles and it's like the sun coming out, his expression hopeful and adoring. Bill covers his eyes again with a sigh.

"I love you," Dipper croaks and fresh tears spring forth, burning and unbearable against the immortal's flesh. Bill hates himself for how much they mean, for how they make his own eyes twinge. The boy's arms lock around Bill's neck, back to being strong and steady, and he tries to kiss Bill's lips only to miss, catching the corner of his mouth instead. "I love you."

He feels like he's in the eye of the storm, as if something is going to happen and all of this emotion is just waiting to overcome him, yet Bill is helpless but to give in. He takes this foolish, brilliant boy's face in his hands, thumbing the tough fuzz along his jaw and his silky lip before drawing him into a proper kiss.

Dipper kisses like a god and Bill like his acolyte, the endless power the demon wields rendered useless when the boy cups his face just so, tongue swiping over his lip just right, allowing Dipper to take control.

The tentacles curl around them, pressing them chest to chest, holding them so they are perfectly entangled it sends shivers down his spine. Dipper sighs and his fluttering eyelashes tickle Bill's fingers; the demon wants to make him do it again.

They don't have to breathe here, they don't have to do anything, so he's free to kiss Dipper until all of the hurt, all of the fear, the pain is forgotten and all he can think of is Bill's body against his own and that's just what he intends to do.

Still, Dipper eventually breaks the kiss, lips and cheeks rosy, hands now stable. He only does it to drag his lover into a hug of all things. "I love you," he repeats, hot and fervent in Bill's ear and his throat grows tight.

Bill squeezes his own eye shut against the words, unable to speak.

"It's okay. I know," Dipper continues and kisses his temple. His ability to read Bill is perhaps the worst and best thing about him and it twists the demon up inside each time Dipper sees through him. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he mutters lowly and Dipper laughs, breathless, kissing every bit of skin he can reach, human and nonhuman alike.

This boy will be the death of him, Bill decides, chest warm and full of stars, and holds him as close as he can, considering how best to ensure he never cries again.

Feedback is greatly appreciated! Feel free to send me prompts amaranthephemera