Fool's Gold (Bill Cipher X Reader)

Dreams Can't Hurt You

Hey guys, I realize now that people are gonna get notifications for this bc it's a new chapter so yeah I'm just editing this and adding stuff—essentially rewriting the whole thing. The plot line is gonna be abt the same but I'm making some changes. I've edited the first three chapters and added this one so far, so if you wanna go back and read the new content, be my guest! As for new readers! If the quality of writing suddenly shifts, it's because I haven't quite gotten around to editing that chapter yet, so please stick around and I'll give you good content! Thank you (:

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It was late in the evening. You and Wendy were by a fire, roasting marshmallows and catching up on the school year. She asked about Monty and whether he was your boyfriend yet. You laughed and said there was no chance he'd ever be. She told you about Robbie and how they worked better as friends. Then, about Dipper, and how she noticed the way he stared at you.

"Maybe he can be your boyfriend."

You laughed, playfully shoving her. "No way," You smiled. "He's, like, what? Twelve?"

"So?"

The two of you laughed, knowing it was a bit too strange. Then, suddenly, Wendy stopped laughing. The scene changed, and you were beside her as she lay on the ground. She was bleeding and coughing, her face covered in scratches and hair matted. You screamed, rushing over to her side.

"Wendy!" You cried. "N-what? I don't—"

She reached up and touched your face, wiping away your tears. Her hand was as cold as ice.

"This is your fault," She managed.

Then, her hand fell over her torso, and her dull eyes bore right through you. Your throat hurt terribly and your stomach curbed with anxiety.

"Wendy," You choked. "I..."

You couldn't think of anything to do. Your best friend just died in your arms. You felt her weight on your, and as you removed your hands, you saw her blood staining your fingertips, which made it all the more real for you.

Finally realizing what happened, you screamed loudly, viciously rubbing your hands on your jeans.

"No, no, no!"

You heard a high pitched ringing gradually getting louder and louder. You covered your ears and bent over yourself, forehead pressed to your knees, as you screamed a terrible, loud scream.

"(Y/N)!"

Then you were awake, safe in your room. Your father was on your bed, holding you in his arms. You thrashed around trying to get away; you still hadn't gotten a sense of your surroundings.

"You're okay! (Y/N)!"

Hearing your father's voice calmed you, and you stopped moving around. You looked at your hands and found they weren't covered in blood.

"You're okay..." He said again.

Even though you felt silly, you began to cry as you leaned into him.

"It was just a dream,"

"W-Wendy was—"

"Shh... it's okay. It isn't real." Your father securely held you, slowly swaying side to side. "Dreams can't hurt you,"

He held you until your crying stopped. He often dealt with your night terrors. It was fun having realistic dreams when you were transported to different worlds, but when they were nightmares, it was much different. Luckily, your dad knew just how to handle it.

When you calmed down he pulled away. "Let's get you some water. Then we can watch some Disney movie. Deal?"

You nodded, sniffing pitifully. "Okay,"

Within the next thirty minutes, you were out cold, nuzzled into your father's side as Hercules occupied the silence.

The next few days were the worst of your summer. Night after night you had terrible, terrible dreams. You dreamt of your friends being ripped away. You dreamt of your father leaving you alone forever. Even of young Dipper and Mabel, whom you'd only met once but already taken quite the liking to, dying right before your eyes.

Each dream was worse than the last; more graphic, somehow. Every person blamed you, every single time. How it was your fault, you did not know, but feeling their cold skin and smelling their blood was enough to convince you that you did have some part in it. And it was the worst feeling in the world.

As the nights went on, you grew more and more tired. Some nights, you did not sleep as you dreaded the nightmares too much. Others, your exhaustion crept up on you and took you to bed. You would be brought to a world of loss and despair. It tore you apart to see people you loved die, and to be so utterly hopeless took a toll on your waking hours of the day.

Until one night when Bill returned.

"Heya, Princess! How's life treating ya?"

The two of you were in an open field underneath a large apple tree. Rays of sunlight peeked through the leaves. You felt a breeze pass through your hair and you felt peaceful. You were so tired, you contemplated closing your eyes and drifting off.

"Gee, you sure look rough." Bill said, circling around your head. "What's troubling you?"

"What do you care?"

"Hey! I'm supposed to care."

You felt bad for snapping at him, but you were exhausted. "Sorry." You said. "It's these stupid nightmares."

"Nightmares?" He questioned. "What about?"

"My friends. Just dying, and I can't do anything about it! And it's all my fault. Even my Dad, he blamed me!"

"That's too bad. But you're in luck! I specialize in dream... manipulation." He laughed cheerfully. "I can make those nightmares disappear like they never happened, and you can get some well deserved rest!"

"Why would you help me?"

"I'm your guardian angel, remember?" He spread out his arms. "That's my job! So we can get rid of those pesky nightmares in a snap, and all I'd need in return is your help with my project."

"What angel makes deals? Shouldn't you help me out of the goodness of your heart? Not to gain something."

"How many angels have you talked to, huh?"

"Well—"

"Exactly! So how's about you listen to the one in front of you? What d'ya say? You help me, and in return I'll cut those nightmares. You look like you could use a good nights rest for once."

"I could..." If you had just a bit more energy in you, or sense for that matter, you might've questioned exactly what he needed help with. Maybe asked what your end of the bargain entailed. But you were drained, and the prospect of sleep was so promising. Not to mention no longer seeing your loved ones' dead bodies.

"So?" You could tell by his tone that if he had a mouth he'd be smiling hard. He outstretched a hand to you, and his hand ignited with blue flames. Through your sleepy haze, you found them to be beautiful. "We have a deal?"

You reached out, wrapping your hand around his own. It was like you were in a trance. Your eyes stared at the flames as you shook his hand. "Deal,"