Beauty and the Dorito (Bill Cipher X Reader)

Chapter 11: Maison des Lunes

Dipper and Mabel sat at the table in a darkened room.  The man sitting across from them was shrouded in shadows.

"Well, if it isn't the Gleeful twins," the man said in a sibilant baritone, barely above a whisper.  "To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from the foremost "magicians" in the region?"

"I heard those air quotes, you son of a-"

"Mabel," Dipper cut across her.  "Be polite."

Mabel snorted.  "Our magic may seem like paltry stage tricks to the small-minded, but I assure you our magic is all too real."  The glow of her amulet cast an ominous shadow across her face.

The man gave a single sharp chuckle.  "Oh, I'm hardly small-minded, my dear."  He leaned forward in his chair, the overhead light throwing his startling features into view.  "In fact, I'd be so bold as to say I've seen more than you could ever dream of."

Dipper raised an eyebrow while Mabel barely managed to restrain a gasp of surprise.  The man was bald, with tattoos all over his head demarcating various labeled areas.  The strangest thing was the red X across one of his mismatched eyes.

"You may call me Blind Ivan," he informed them as he settled back into the shadows.  "Now, what exactly is your business with the Society?"

Dipper smiled.  "Now we're talking.  There's a beautiful girl in town who's simply too stubborn- or too stupid- to agree to marry me.  Mabel and I have devised a plan to rectify the situation, but we need your help."

They could hear the disdain in Ivan's voice.  "I believe there's been a bit of a misunderstanding.  I run a secret society, not a matchmaking service."

"That's not the kind of help I need," Dipper clarified.  "You see, she's quite the loose cannon, but she's completely devoted to her father.  If he were to suffer an... unfortunate accident, perhaps one that would require me to perform a "miracle" to fix, then she would have no choice but to marry me in return."

"How delightfully sadistic," Ivan remarked.  "I believe we can come to some sort of arrangement.  However, I don't come cheap."

Dipper heaved a sack of gold coins onto the table.  "Not a problem." 

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"Why'd you stop?"

"Make me waffles."

"You just had a sandwich."

"That was like three hours ago. I want waffles."

"Make your own waffles."

"I won't keep telling the story until I get some waffles."

"Coming right up."

------------------------

Stanford grunted in dismay, crumpling up yet another blueprint and tossing it to one side.  He'd been desperately working on a machine capable of reaching the Fearamid and rescuing Y/N.  He'd already dismantled most of his previous machines for parts to use, and had a robot the size of a house halfway assembled in the front yard.

"All it needs is a framework in the center," he muttered to himself, tapping his pen against the paper.  He looked around the house for inspiration and was struck by a sudden idea.

"I suppose that'll do," he said as he wrote "SHACK-TRON" in huge letters at the top of the blueprint.  With renewed vigor, he set to work.

After an extended montage of designing and building, Stanford stood before his house transformed into a giant robot of doom.  The evening light silhouetted the impressive machine, all primed and prepared for an assault on the Fearamid.