bill cipher · gravity falls · traumatized · depression · ptsd · broken villain · stanford pines · dream demon · panic attacks · angst
The forest air hung heavy with the scent of pine and damp earth, broken only by the sharp crack of a gunshot. Bill Cipher, a fractured triangle of orange and blue, scrambled from the dirt, his single eye wide with residual panic. The rabid wolf had fled, leaving Bill trembling, sweat beading on his forehead. He straightened his tattered form, attempting to mask his exhaustion with a shaky smirk. He looked up at the stranger holding the smoking gun, the savior who had interrupted his near-demise.