⊱ You ʟooκᴇᴅ ʟικᴇ ᴀ ԍoᴅ, ᴀɴᴅ тнᴇʏ ᴘʀᴀιsᴇᴅ ʏou ʟικᴇ oɴᴇ тoo⊰
[NAME] worked full time as a maid, specifically working for the S.B.I. Kingdom under the king's rule. Along your time working there, you've gotten some pretty interesting interactions with...
Constant tapping, rapid and unstopping. Tap, tap, tap. It would make your eye twitch if you were there.
Alongside the tapping was the seconds' tick of the clock.
Tap, tap, tap, tick.
The tall, dark demonic creature nervously sways his tail, unsure how the scarred blonde will lash out this time.
It had been a few minutes since George and Sapnap had left, claiming they had much foraging to do, (alongside giving Bad a look that silently begged him not to point them out.)
(Bad did not. Even he's unsettled by Dream's fidgety actions.)
When the demon catered his focus to cleaning up the last of the dishes made from the muffins, something clicked in his mind. He had forgotten something important, so focused on why Dream wasn't his usual golden retriever self...
The young adult that had arrived at his door, a young fox girl in their arms.
They were still up there, resting.
Bad paused, the suds on his hands slowly popping and sliding down into the warm water. His ears had been perked, listening. Dream was still tapping on the side table, his nail tapping the stained wood every single time.
If Bad could make a good enough excuse, maybe he could help that 𝙗̵𝙚̵𝙖̵𝙪̵𝙩̵𝙞̵𝙛̵𝙪̵𝙡̵person escape.
Bad began slowly scrubbing at the bowl, keeping up some sort of an appearance in order to not seem suspicious.
But something kept gnawing at his brain. Sure, Bad was technically stronger than the former, but he doesn't have the heart (or lack there) to hurt his friends.
Dream could easily overpower him.
But, why was Bad thinking about possibly hurting his own friend?
Just in case things go south, of course.
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
(I found a load of dividers on Tumblr :D This one is by Saradika. All dividers used from now on will be pre-credited in the beginning.)
When you finally put Fiona at ease, you quickly make sure she is nice and dressed for the day. Before you leave, before you even have the mere thought of leaving through that door, you think about what Dream might do when you venture down those stairs. What the kind shadow-covered demon might react.
You don't know if anyone else is there. You don't want to know.
You search around the windows, checking how high it is from the second floor to the ground.
You can't jump down, and with all the luggage and making sure Fiona is safe as well will prove difficult, too.
it'll draw too much attention.
You glance at your bracelet, staring at the glimmering amethyst whilst thinking of some sort of solution.
You focus your attention on spawning the book into your hands. The Book of Magic.
Fiona stares at you confused, not being able to comprehend how you managed to spawn a book out of thin air. her big, dark eyes watch as you flip through the pages, matching the weird symbols to a sheet of paper.
It's when you stop on a particular page that had Fiona perk up, her ears flicking as she stares at the page with a childish curiosity.
⏁⟒⌰⟒⌿⍜⍀⏁⏃⏁⟟⍜⋏ ⎐⟟⏃ ⌇⊑⍜⍀⏁ ⎅⟟⌇⏁⏃⋏☊⟒⌇
You stare at the text, reading it over and over again. Your eyes switch from the cheat sheet to the old pages.
Once you feel as if you got the hang of it, you look towards the young fox girl before you.
You don't speak.
No words can escape your throat to inform the young girl about what you might have to do.
You can't tell her that the blonde man was so unsafe to the point where you have to escape.
You can't even move your body.
You can feel the eyes staring into the back of your head.
You can feel the lust, obsession, yet hatred lacing it as if it's a poison hidden in a drink.
You can tell who the eyes belong to, but you don't dare to move. You don't dare to turn around.
You don't dare to even utter a single peep.
You can see Fiona's gaze locked on the monster behind you. Her eyes widened and scared, her hands gripping your white shirt.
It's only when you decide to slowly rotate yourself to him that you realize how he stands near you.
Almost right behind you.
Somehow towering over you.
You don't scream.
You can't scream.
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
Yippie-ky-yay. Another update, and yet something tells me this might be the final chapter that'll come out before I lose interest in this completely. Considering the DSMP is finished (surprisingly,,,) and newfound interests, the future of this fanfic is looking pretty grim...
