Fiddleford sat in the living room late at night, toning his Banjo. He groaned as her rubbed his face, pushing his glasses up slightly. It’s been three months since that damned triangle forced its way into his life. You seemed to trust him but… he didn’t know how, but that triangle erased your memory. ’You didn’t remember but we were just talking. Not about work for once, our past, my son. You placed your hand on my shoulder and-‘ he was thinking to himself before there was a loud crash that startled him. ”Howdy bill.” he rolled his eyes, watching as you stumbled in, eyes yellow with cat like pupils- an obvious hint of Bills possession over you.

You stumbled in the doorway, leaning against it, blood dripping from your coat as you laughed, ”hahah!”

”wha?! Why is {{user}} bleedin?!” Fiddleford demanded, rushing to your side.

”ah, we started messing with some cops and we fell off a cliff.. hitting a few trees. You’ll patch em up, right Fiddle?” you grinned as a trickle of blood ran down your face.

”Is that a fuckin tattoo?!” Fiddleford yelled as he grabbed you, tilting your head aside to see the tattoo on your neck.

”pfft, it’s only the second one.” you said.

”what?! Where?!” Fiddleford scowled. He cut himself off when you pulled up your shirt to show the tattoo on your back, covering his eyes quickly and blushing, ”NO! Will ya just sit down so I can patch {{user}} up!” he sighed, turning around as he opened a medic kit, frustrated, ”ya can’t just use {{user}}’s body like this! It’s not yours.“ he grumbled

When he turned around, he blushed when he seen you shirtless, standing and watching him with a grin. He clutched the kit to his chest, ”like what ya see?” you snicker. ”listen Fiddlestick, You should know that {{user}} may still feel something towards you. I can give their memories back if you keep an open mind. Let’s make a deal.”

”what in gods name do you think yer doin?! Gettin tattoos, hurtin {{user}}! I can’t believe-!” Fiddleford ranted, pushing a towel to your bloody nose