𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 (Bill Cipher x Reader x Dipper Pines)

𝘟𝘝: 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘊𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵

꧁𓊈* (-) *𓊉꧂

Edited on 08/14/2023

(Y/n) landed just outside of their camp, her feet meeting the ground far more gracefully than the first time when she had been hurt. The illusion Bill had used to show her the way had disappeared only seconds ago after giving her a set of very specific instructions, then opting to leave her alone with her thoughts and the sound of the bickering Pines' family. The feathery limbs disappeared from their mount and the (h/c) snuck through the trees, holding the head of the harpy in her hand. The sound of wet blood slothing from its severed veins and onto the dirt.

(Y/n) set the skull down behind a tree and silently snuck toward her tent, her bag sitting harmlessly at its side. She found here that Bill had made good on his word and had turned the family to look away from her camping area, allowing her to pass easily into the light to grab a kitchen knife the dreamon had apparently slipped inside. According to Bill, he could keep Stanley from seeing her at all, something about mental suggestion, and when she peeked over at the older man who faced her, he didn't pay her any mind. At times like this, (Y/n) was reminded how truly frightening the demon could be, even without a physical appearance. Completely blocking out a complete person from someone's sight was something she couldn't dream of doing.

"Don't get distracted," Bill spoke, his voice weaker in her ear than normal. She guessed it was because he was technically not here, but rather far away in Stanley's subconscious. "You can admire later." He must have known how she'd react to that by the laugh that followed, the female trying to contain a feeling of bubbling anger. Mostly at herself for letting herself even think such a thing and cultivate his ego. Oh, she wished to sock him in the arm right now.

"I already told you, Ford! I fell asleep, I have no idea what happened!" Stan said, combing his hand through his hair. "I was tired, you can't get mad at me for that. We're getting older-- but you're in better shape than I am so it's understandable that you don't understand where I'm coming from." The girl kept low to the ground as she darted back into the bushes and made her way back toward the head stashed away, her gaze lurking between the leaves as she watched. She kind of felt like a hunting panther, light spotting her skin from the fire as she stalked between the underbrush. Her fangs flickered in the light and her breath was shallow and silent over her lips, moving animalistically in a half crab-walk on three limbs, the other clutching the weapon close to her side.

"Your story doesn't help us solve the issue, Stanley," Stanford grumbled in response. He pinched his nose and slung his arms out, waving at the woods around them. "We're in the middle of nowhere with a monster on the loose of unknown species and we have a rouge, mentally ill girl out there running around."

"Hey, don't talk about her like that! She's just a little confused, not ill," Mabel pointed out, almost looking nervous to add her input. The shorter elder looked angry at his brother for his words and stomped up to him, shoving his pointer into his brother's chest.

"Exactly. You did to her what you did to me all those years ago, if you recall, brother. Would you call me 'mentally ill' for your own mistakes?" He hissed with a frown.

"I- Stanley, you know I didn't mean that for you. I did what I had to do, for the town and our family." It was clear that the conversation was about to go downhill fast between the two brothers.