His Little Dove (Bill Cipher X Reader)

Stan's Terror of Ladders

Scars and bruises litter my body. I am constantly sore, with the pain being the worst in the mornings. I sit up from my "bed," giving my body its daily check to make sure no new injuries have manifested while Bill was in control.

"No, that one was from when I tried to faceplant from that piece of furniture two days ago," Bill chats in my mind about every injury I come across.

"Not helping," I mutter. I notice my arm slightly crooked, "Ouch! What did you do to my arm???"

"I pulled it out of the socket!" Bill proudly says, "It was hilarious!" Before I could proceed to cuss Bill out for dislocating my arm, I hear footsteps climb up the staircase. I quickly find a way to hide the injuries. Sleeves, jackets, whatever. I quickly sit back down and turn around, forced to move a dislocated arm to innocently clasp my hands together. I squint in pain.

Mabel comes up the stairs. Again. Look, I like Mabel and all, but she's been the only person who comes up here ever since Bill scowled at her. I don't know if she had experience with demonic possessions or what, but Bill definitely thinks that Mabel is suspicious of us. Now, I would definitely call Bill many things. "Psychotic," "demented," "insane," but "paranoid" is not one of the words, so if Bill thinks that Mabel is on the verge of figuring us out, then she's on the verge of figuring us out.

"(Y/N)!" Mabel makes it to the top, "I got great news. Grunkle Stan is no longer sick!"

I give the grinning woman a smile back, "That's great."

"Rather strange that he got better not much longer after you started to get mysterious injuries every night, huhhh?" Do you see what I mean? Mabel used to not ask such seemingly unrelated questions. Now it's almost like she's trying to brute force a confession out of me. Okay, keep cool, keep cool. Bill is here to guide me out of this situation.

"Iii've beeen tryyying to coook bliiindfooolldeeed," I say, slowly following what Bill tells me to say, "And you know how hard it is to cut ingredients blind!" My grin turns from genuine to awkward. Mabel gets up all to my face and gives the scars a closer look. They're all from knives, so the story checks out...kinda.

"Is there a reason why you're cooking with a blindfold on?" Mabel asks.

"I just like a good challenge," I reply. Mabel nods one more time before she goes back to her happy-go-lucky self that I adore.

"What are we waiting for, then?" Mabel heads back to the stairs, "Soos is pouring cereal right now! Let's go get some breakfast." Mabel disappears to the first floor. I head after Mabel.

Mabel and I are the last to make it to the dining table, which is too crowded for the comfort of myself and Bill, which is filled with cereal bowls and plates of eggs and bacon. I grab a plate and a bowl and proceed to dig in. Most people give me weird looks, but I don't care. I got myself and a being made of pure energy living in my mind. Don't you have any idea how hungry that makes a person?

"Truly innovative," Soos says before he proceeds to dig into his food like how I am. Everybody at the table shrug and laugh about what is happening before they eat like civilized people. I haven't paid much attention, but I'm pretty sure only Stanley is missing. He tends to sleep in.

Today seems to be the exception, though. Stan walks in and stops in his steps. He stares at me before he puts his hand on the side of his head and points at me.

"That's the psychopath who brought a ladder into the Shack!" Stan shouts. Bill proceeds to laugh maniacally in my mind. I drop my fork from the sudden, loud noises.

"Ladder!? What ladder!?" I shout over the family's murmurs and Bill's laughing.

"You know the one," Stan approaches the table and slams the palms of his hands onto the wooden surface, "I saw you dragging it into the living room last night, making whispers about how 'Moneypants is going to freak when he sees this.'" Mabel whispers to Dipper about something. Whatever it is, Dipper just glares at Mabel and whispers something back.