𝙸𝚜𝚗'𝚝 𝙸𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜, 𝚁𝚞𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐?

|18| ᴘᴇᴛʀɪᴄʜᴏʀ

Trigger warning: not eating, vv long chapter, implied death, self-sacrifice, dark backstory 

thanks for 200 votes! i missed 100 so there's the next milestone lol 

Maia surveyed the papers littering her desk. There was enough that if you stitched them all together they could pass as a novel. She swept some unimportant ones to the side, the pages fluttering as they drifted off the surface and onto the floor where they laid peacefully, waiting to be picked up again. Her pencil scratched while she wrote, lines and lines of handwriting coming to life with sharply-drawn letters and fast paraphrases. Finished papers were stacked on another, nearby table. She let out a low, tired sigh, reaching her arms above her head. Bones in her shoulders cracked loudly, and she rolled them backwards a couple times. 

Too much work for a Saturday. It wasn't what she wanted to be doing— would anyone really enjoy this? But she was working through it, and almost completed the work anyways, if she took a break now she wouldn't start again. Her music was at full volume. It broke through the otherwise silent air, the base rumbling in her ears. She hummed along with it as she checked boxes and answered inquiries, subconscious taking her mind elsewhere while she flipped through finished sheets, flitting her thinking to new outfit designs. The steps of feet tapped quietly behind her. "Techno." 

"Hi, Maia. Police stuff?" She nodded mirthlessly, putting an elegant 'x' in the circle required. The pink haired man shrugged, turning his attention from the bore-worthy texts. "We need something for Dream to wear as a mask. That okay?" 

Maia stood up and brushed her skirt; the plaits had become slightly folded on the sides. "Sure. His shirt fit? Collar isn't too itchy?" Dream's head peeked through the doorframe from the kitchen, a pale-coloured bandaid over his nose. His freckles were becoming more prominent each day, and now the speckles were dotted with small, pastel stickers. 

"I like the shirt. And the pants, too. Were you going to make a vest, or?" He asked, licking batter off his fingers with wide-eyed innocence. He looked like a kid. Not threatening at all. It was ironic, because if he ever chose to, Dream could probably kill all of them then walk away. Well, probably not Techno, and he wouldn't hurt George... 

"The vest? Yeah, it's on your bedside table." Maia strolled over to her fabric drawer, taking out a piece of white silk that was bigger than her arm. Dream went to his room, coming back seconds later in a shiny black vest. His shirt and general aesthetic royally clashed with it to the point that she had to stifle a laugh. "Oh my goodness, take it off. Acid washed jeans, white/pink cropped shirt and black vest? No, god no." 

He rolled his eyes, but shrugged it off and handed it back to her. She shooed him back to his room, pointing at his modest closet. Dream closed the door and Tubbo came out of his room, startled by the sound, but mainly just hungry. "Tubbo! Do you want something to eat?" The boy nodded faintly. She led him to the kitchen, he looked too pale. Tubbo gratefully took the sandwich she offered, eating it slowly as Maia went back to Dream. He had changed into the full outfit, thank god, too, pastel aesthetic and dark villain wear do not mix. 

The black vest gleamed dark green patterns when the light hit it just right, a special addition she had added for flair, and to match the high-collared shirt he was wearing. He had assorted all of her pieces of white fabric into neat piles, folded and smoothed the tops so it was fashion-designer ready. Maia ripped the silk into thin shreds and he stifled an offended gasp. "How dare you." 

"Stick it up your ass, Dream, or get George to do that for you." Bad yelled 'language!' from the other room, and Maia smirked. George hit the back of her head but didn't say anything else. Dream took a minute to realize what she had said, brain computing like a loading screen before his face went completely red and he turned away; too quickly to be casual.