Not On The Wheel (Bill Cipher x Reader)

Chapter Twenty-Six: Feigned Camaraderie

Inigo remained on the porch, unsure of where to go.

He was conflicted, with both himself and the world. How did he only just find out his daughter was still alive? What kind of person was he? What kind of father was he? He didn't have much experience with the paternal role if he were to be completely honest— demons weren't known to have children; it was a whole debate amongst the population— but he was sure at least knowing your child was alive was some sort of prerequisite... right...?

"What is wrong with me? How could I miss something so crucial!" He scolded himself out loud. His shouts were carried with the wind, off into the crisp night.

He had known of what happened that fateful night; he was a mess for a couple of years when he saw what destruction his power— his inherited power— had caused.

"But she survived," he muttered, pulling at his hair. "All this time I thought she had died, but she survived."

That's why he sensed his fire: it was from his own daughter using it, completely unaware of where it came from or who it originally belonged to. He remembered earlier, where the same spasm from his dimension struck him down in the parlor.

"She used it earlier...?" He thought back to her foot; it was obvious she had gotten injured. "Was Y/n in danger?"

"Almost! It would have been much more interesting to watch!"

Inigo froze; that was a voice he hadn't heard in a long while.

While in thought, the demon had failed to notice his surroundings lose their color. The rich color of the night was reduced to a monotone he could only associate with one person.

Or, one triangle, rather.

"So that strong demonic presence I sensed," he spoke, looking back over his shoulder. A golden triangle floated little ways away from the porch, positioned at the edge of the woods. "That was you?"

"Well of course it was, Inigo!" Bill cheered, floating a bit closer. "Who else was it gonna be? One of those kids?" He pointed to the shack.

Inigo bit his lip. Of course it belonged to an actual demon. For a moment, he thought it was Y/n; that fire's energy wasn't something to be messed with. But she was still very much still human: she could still— as she proved earlier— get hurt, and Death wasn't going to simply walk past her if it ever got to that point. But Bill Cipher? Why was he here?

"What are you doing within this dimension, Cipher?"

"I could ask the same thing, Horns," Bill laughed. He snapped and his trusty cane appeared by his side. He used it to motion to the man. "Though it's rather obvious: couldn't stay away from those little meatsacks' frivolities, could you?"

Inigo rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. He flicked his wrist, deciding to rid himself of his physical human facade. It was beginning to become a nuisance, and while the foreign and strong feelings that came with a more emotional form was what originally coaxed him to try his hand at the human experience, he wanted to catch a break from any more mind blowing information that might further shake his rather frail form.

His amber eyes rolled into the back of his head, black crawling up from his chest to cover his body. White glowing eyes rolled into place from all around his face, running from one side of his face all the way to the other of his neck. Horns grew from right above his lengthening ears, curling with his hair and sweeping back, the tip pointed downwards. His clothes changed within an instead, replaced with Inigo's more formal attire: a white collar poked from beneath a form-fitting black vest, a dark violet tie hiding beneath it. The vest was tucked into black slacks, falling nearly over neat dress shoes. Inigo seemed to grow taller, smoke beginning to billow from his ethereal being and dissipate inches above him.