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Summary
Once, Bill Cipher was a god—feared, worshipped, and free. He drank wine mixed with lilies and slept in temples carved by non-divine hands.
Now, he’s little more than a whisper, bound to a scholar’s shrine, summoned by hands that tremble with mervousness and devotion.
Stanford Pines seeks knowledge, and in Bill he finds it. Their bond is strange, slowly spiraling into something neither of them can—want to—name.
But Bill still remembers what it means to be finite, and he will not stay diminished forever.
After all, even fallen gods still dream of fire—and the mortals who might help them burn bright again.
Or alternately;
"Shimmering Scales" it's getting it's longfic, but before we get to the fiddlestan, we must tackle the evil toxic yaoi Bill and Ford are.