𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 (Bill Cipher x Reader x Dipper Pines)

𝘟𝘝𝘐𝘐: 𝘚𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘙𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘴

꧁𓊈* (-) *𓊉꧂

Edited on 08/16/2023

(Y/n) and Bill sat in her room with a book, thrumming through the pages with her window open, the sound of faint thunder echoing off the trees coming to a purr in her ears. It had been a week since the camping trip and six days since she was nearly offered up to an unknown god that Bill hadn't told her about yet. She had been trying to get him to talk for a few days now, pointing out that he had promised her some answers, to which he retorted with 'soon wasn't quite yet', which was honestly a bit annoying. She had told him that the demon was the only person in her life right now who wasn't keeping her in the dark, and that she wanted to keep it that way.

Since the Pines family had put a knife through her heart, she had become more withdrawn from them. Ford would even refer to her as colder and more calculating. She guessed with the feelings of attachment mostly severed, it was easier for her to watch them squirm under the impending threat of Bill looming over their backs. They had tried to make a few amendments here and there, but she didn't give in. She acted. In front of their faces she was a nearly typical teenager-- sneaking out every so often, withdrawn, closed emotions-- but friendly enough. But when they turned their backs and the mask dropped, little to no care over Stanford and Dipper showed on her face. She had been practicing.

With the now looming threat of a cult behind every corner, she and the dreamon had been working harder to enhance her physical attributes. (Y/n) was able to run for much long, fly much faster, see much farther, and even lift but heavier things now than before. She had started doing it alone, spending most of the morning in the woods with a rock or tree, punching it until her knuckles were bloodied and raw. That's also how she found out that her healing time was much shorter than a humans, having stopped wrapping her fists with gauze after each bloody strike and leaving them baren. When the dreamon saw that she had turned her anger toward the family into self-inflicted pain for personal betterment, he gave her tips.

At first (Y/n) laughed at the idea of taking fist-fighting lessons from a dream demon who used his magic and followers to do the dirty work for him. But, when he had told her a bit about his rather long history as a 'muse' to famous fighters in history, the girl was pleasantly surprised. But this morning Bill had told her to stay home for the morning hours, and after last week she chose to listen. She wasn't happy about it, but she did.

She frowned into the white pages of her book as she thought about his words, her mind flashing on the three cultists that had appeared last time. Two solid knocks came from the doorframe nearby, Stanford standing on the other side of the open door. Since she had started acting like she had forgiven them, the older man seemed more talkative to her. She guessed that because she had saved his brother's sleeping ass, he was trying to be a bit nicer, but it was obviously not natural to him. He leaned on the doorway and (Y/n) looked up from her book, her (e/c) gaze looking him over for an explanation as to why he was here. The book was closed by her free hand, one finger stuck along the spine between pages to hold her place. He took this attention as a green light to continue, despite her obviously cold gaze.

"So, uh," he started, clearing his throat. He didn't make a move to come any closer to her, looking to the side for a moment and then back. Was this why the dreamon had told her to stay here? For whatever information was about to be spilled? With the way his eyes were gleaming with an emotion close to hope, she had a sinking feeling that it had something to do with going down to his weird spider-infested basement lab. A 'no' quickly prepared itself across (Y/n)'s lips but she held onto it, allowing him to continue for a bit longer at least. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me on a hunt?"