connected ; bill cipher x reader

A familiar name.

— A/n: I apologise for the lack of updates. My last exam period for this school year has started and I really need to focus on them.
As of now, this chapter is unedited.

Stanley looked over his brother's shoulder to see photocopies of the third journal's pages scattered all over the table, a barely finished drawing of a young man he's never seen before right in front of the six-fingered man's nose. With narrowed eyebrows he carefully tapped Ford's shoulder, making him sigh loudly, and questioningly, in response.

"So you're either crushing on someone or searching for a reason why that damned statue suddenly got legs and ran off."

The twin sighed once again, tapping his pencil on the wooden surface before abruptly standing up to properly show the drawing he's started as soon as he came back from grocery shopping. Which in itself was already quite strange, since Ford seemed a bit stressed, and really stormed into his study room the moment he set foot into the living room and placed his bags on the counter. That was the reason why Stanley decided to check up on his brother in the first place.

"Look at him and tell me that he doesn't remind you of someone."

Just as he was asked to, Stanley took a closer look at the drawing, rubbing his chin in thought as he observed every detail. Which was an aspect that worried him a bit, too, since his brother drew him extremely detailed. Usually that wouldn't be surprising at all, since he was a perfectionist, but somehow that was a different case.
Other than that it looked like a normal drawing of a lean, slightly pale teenage boy to him, except for an eyepatch that covered one of the eyes and a grin that didn't look right, or human, even. The blonde hair was a bit messy and mostly combed to one side, a few strands falling over said covered eye.
The longer his observation took, the more Stanford visibly got impatient, which is why his brother decided to cut things short instead of stretching the moment out longer than necessary.

"He doesn't. So, what's the big deal? Please tell me you're not crushing on him."

"I am not crushing on anyone, Stanley."

With yet another sigh he placed the drawing back on the table and picked some of the journal's pages up, looking through them as if he was searching for something. In the meantime Stanley took a sip from his cooled can of soda, waiting for his brother to continue. Although he'd rather go back upstairs and leave him be with his creepy drawing and journal pages.

"Listen, four days ago I bumped into this young woman who said that she was going to be in town for a few months. Bill's statue disappeared without a trace three days ago. According to Soos, she was the one who's been looking after the statue during that short period of time and was also the first one to notice that it's gone.
Now today I met her again in the supermarket and this man was accompanying her. Apparently he is her brother named William.
And if I'm being honest, this is all a bit suspicious. I mean, look at him! Only one functioning eye, blonde hair, weird grin. He was also quite pale!"

"Now let me be honest: You're being a little paranoid."

For the umpteenth time in just a few minutes, the elderly man sighed again, rubbing his temple in frustration. He didn't know what was wrong and what was right, perhaps he really was overthinking this whole situation. Perhaps it really was just a coincidence.
However, he couldn't shake that feeling of similarity off. The appearance, the name. William.

"This is ridiculous," Ford mumbled, half to himself, and sat back down on his chair, facing the drawing of the peculiar man and all the photocopied journal pages that had some leftover information about the dream demon. Before throwing all his three journals into the bottomless pit, Stanford couldn't stop himself from making copies of some important and memorable pages, and lock them away safely. His brother had called him obsessed, tried multiple times to stop him from doing so, tried to force him to just let go off the whole thing and start a new, much more peaceful life.
But in the end it turned out to be a smart move, in his opinion. Stanford didn't know what he would have done without those wonderful pages in such a situation. With the disappearance of Bill's statue and the arrival of the new people in town.

Stanley gave him a pat on the back, nodding in what seemed to be agreement.

"I agree with you on that one. Now if you'll excuse me, I promised Mabel to watch the spin-offs of Ducktective with her. And there's, like, a lot, so we really have to get started. As soon as you're done with...that, feel free to join us. Dipper will probably be there as well, as soon as he's done talking to, uh...Wendy."

With that being said, Stanford was left alone with his thoughts in the dimly lit study room, eyes wandering around the room while he allowed his thoughts to run wild once again. Perhaps he really should let go of the whole thing and relax, watch that show with his family, even if he fails to comprehend it's sense — or purpose, or whatever.

As he leaned back in his chair and looked over the entries on the table again he thought that that might be the best thing to do. Turn off the small lamp that sat on the desk and served as the only source of light in the room. With a frown decorating his face he started to collect the pages that were scattered over the table, neatly stacking them and carrying them over to the hidden locker in his study room. Before typing in the code to open it, he spared the very top page one more glance, his eyes widening in the matter of a few seconds.
Stanford never truly believed in coincidences.
And he refused to believe that that the statue's disappearance, the girl and her apparent brother weren't connected in some way.

Finally, we reached the top of Gravity Peak and made camp for the night. As we stared up at Gravity Falls' beautiful and strange constellation patterns, we found ourselves discussing our future as if we were back in our college dorm.