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dr3amofagame · 3 years

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take a shot - dsmp!mcc fic

MCC FIC! MCC FIC! MCC FIC! To be clear, I outlined this weeks back, when teams were first announced, and I took very very little from the actual MCC itself when it came to actually writing this - all I have are the same teams, but it really exists in its own continuity outside of Real Life MCC (obviously, as it’s using the dsmp characters) and everything like that as a whole! Just to be clear :D)

The worldbuilding is also Absolutely Bullshitted start to finish, as well as any and all medical information. Rip. We’re here for a good time, not for a long or particularly accurate one - hope you guys enjoy regardless!! I had a LOT of fun writing this fic, dsmp!mcc aus my BELOVED

title obviously from win it all by derivakat

---

Michael loves MCC.

But it’s one thing to love the normal Championships and quite another when his team looks like it’s falling apart from the inside out - and as the games progress, it becomes more and more obvious that losing, this time, might not be an option.

tws: C!QUACKITY CRITICAL (sorry i promise i love him but he is NOT portrayed very nicely here, very dark portrayal of him), implied trauma, abuse, torture, panic attacks, manipulation, gaslighting, needles, hospitals, MCC-typical violence, emotional distress, prison arc, pandora’s vault themes

(16k words !! :D long boi)

Michael loves MCC.

Of course he does! It’s fucking MCC - like, who wouldn’t love it? MCC is how he met so many people, how he met Dream, that one time, the two of them teamed with Techno and Burren and winning it all - MCC is a goddamn blast and he’s thankful every time he gets the invite that he’s able to compete.

Still- it’s hard not to be a little more nervous, now.

Dream gave him an invite to his SMP right after they teamed, but it wasn’t until months later that Michael actually cashed it in. Entering the server, it became very obvious very quickly that the DreamSMP, as it’s known, isn’t quite the same as its shiny media appearance. The spawn was covered in blocks, creeper holes littering the ground. The people he passed were grey-faced, too stoic to be the same, smiling faces he remembers from only less than a year ago. The air stings of gunpowder and iron. Worst of all are The Crater, shoddily covered in glass that does nothing to hide the damage done, rending the server in two straight down to bedrock, and the Prison, looming on the horizon. Absent-mindedly, Michael rubs at his left shoulder, remembering the Warden setting the prongs of his trident against the skin in warning, just hard enough to barely draw blood. Yeah, that place is bad news.

The fact of the matter is the server is a mess. And like, okay, whatever, Michael gets it. Everyone has their issues - it’s just the DreamSMP seems to have more than most. Despite his original worries, it’s honestly not been as bad as he originally feared upon logging in; yeah, Bad and Puffy and Foolish and the rest of them are a little more trigger-happy than he might’ve expected (and he’s not going to say that Bad crying over turtles wasn’t a little startling when he first joined, but honestly he thinks Bad is just Like That.) There’s way more death than he’s really comfortable with, and Puffy keeps mentioning Bad murdering her son (Foolish? He thinks? The guy is also a literal God but like, families are weird, who’s he to judge) in a way that’s way too casual to come from anyone entirely well-adjusted, but overall his experience has been alright.

Still, he gets the feeling that nobody exactly wants the outside world to know about the issues with the place. It’s not an issue for him usually, not when his sleeping schedule is the exact opposite of most of the people he knows and he spends most of his time screwing around on the server, anyway (usually harassing the Warden until the asscrack of dawn if he’s being honest) but with MCC, with everyone watching - he’s starting to get why everyone from the SMP was so damn tense all the time, now.

Anyway- he loves MCC, he really does. But even that doesn’t stop him from wincing when he sees his team card, the names Dream and Quackity and Sapnap written in Scott’s looping handwriting. He’s not seen Sapnap at all since joining the server, has only heard a little about his place (something Kingdom, not that he was paying attention) from Foolish, and has no idea what the man has been up to. Quackity is his own unique can of worms; Michael doesn’t know exactly what’s up with him and his country, but everything he’s heard so far has sounded like nothing but bad news, casinos and schemes and a trail of wreckage following wherever he goes. And Dream-

Michael looks out his window, chewing on his lip, looking directly in the direction where he knows the prison stands, impenetrable, intimidating. Where Dream’s cell is, in line with his house, where he’s been hidden for months without a trace. Where the Warden had confronted him that one night, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, blood splattered on his boots.

There’s no real ignoring an MCC invite - not without good reason, not without the admins picking up on something being up. There’s not really a choice, here, but for Michael to duck his head down and pretend everything’s fine just like everyone else from the SMP. He directs one last glance at the prison before walking away, setting the invite on his counter. If he’s lucky, everything will turn out fine.

(He ignores the part of him that asks what’s going to happen if they’re not. No point in worrying about what hasn’t happened yet - right?)

---

Weeks pass, the tournament creeping closer, and Michael gets no alerts from his teammates on his comm. No one comes to his house to check in, say hi, not even a ‘hey, we’re kinda competing in a massive tournament in like, seven days, you ready?’ Hell, he even starts checking his goddamn mailbox for a letter or something only to come up empty-handed every time. Never mind performing well - it’ll be a miracle if their team manages to arrive at the tournament at all.

It isn’t until the day before MCC, the sun high in the sky at what must be near noon, when he finally gets a message on his comm. Michael fishes it out with a frustrated huff, seeing Quackity’s name pop up first when he manages to turn on the screen.

Quackity whispers to you: you down for some practice?

It takes a couple seconds for him to blink away his shock - out of everyone he expected to arrange practice for their team, Quackity was definitely not at the top of the list. He half-thought they would have to drag him to the tournament kicking and screaming; from what he’s heard, he’s been nothing if not devoted to his country. Shaking his head, he goes to reply; practice is practice, and their team really needs it.

You whisper to Quackity: sure. practice server?

Quackity whispers to you: yes

Pulling up his server list, Michael scrolls for the practice server, finding it and then letting the server transfer do the rest. A few nausea-inducing seconds later, he’s at the practice server spawn, standing in the middle of a neatly paved road surrounded by colorful arenas and signs.

“Michael!”

He turns; there, by the Battle Box arenas, Quackity is waving at him, already dressed in a red varsity jacket and a pair of shorts, the jacket bearing a front pocket embroidered with a rabbit and a large R stitched onto the back. He reaches behind him for a red bag, throws it his way for Michael to catch mid-air.

“Got these outfits for us last minute - hope it’s alright with you,” Quackity smiles, and Michael tries to prevent his eyes from clinging to the scar spanning the entire left side of his face. “Anyway- how are you, man? I feel like we haven’t seen each other at all on the server. How’s it been?”

“I’m good- it’s been good.” Michael opens the drawstring bag, cataloguing the contents - there’s a jacket, just like Quackity’s, a pair of shorts and sweatpants, a t-shirt, and a headband, all in varying shades of red and white. “Nice outfit- thank you. Is anyone else around?”

Quackity waves a hand behind him. “Yeah- Dream’s here. Should be coming out of the arena soon, actually.” Michael looks over behind his shoulder to where he’s pointing - there, walking down the stairs, is another figure wearing all red that must be Dream. “There he is- hey Dream! Michael’s here!”

Dream hurries down the stairs; unlike Quackity, he is wearing the sweatpants along with the same jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets. His hair is a lot longer than Michael remembers, pulled back behind his head in a ponytail, mask, as usual, fastened over his face. He settles behind Quackity, giving Michael a small wave; his hands are covered by a pair of fingerless gloves.

“Hey, Dream!” Michael grins; it’s been such a long time since he’s seen his old teammate, and despite the circumstances and everything that’s apparently happened since then, it’s still pretty damn nice to see him. “How’ve you been?”

Dream seems to freeze for a moment, before shaking his head. “Good,” he says, quiet, sounding almost breathless. Michael’s eyes go to the slivers of skin that show on either side of his face, to the slight shake to his hands.

“You alright? You look a little pale,” Michael asks, and he definitely doesn’t miss the way Dream stills at the words, muscles tensing, gaze averting to the side even with the mask - doesn’t miss how Quackity steps forward, looking Michael in the eye as he tosses a casual arm around Dream’s shoulder, smiling brightly.

“Don’t worry. This idiot has just been practicing a bit too much before you got here,” Quackity gestures with a flippant twist of his wrist, “You know how he gets. Right, Dream?”

“Um- yeah. Ha,” Dream responds just a little too late to be strictly normal, shoulders tight and nearly pulled to his ears under Quackity’s arm. “Practice- I’m a little out of shape.”

“You sure?” Dream’s breathing hitches and Quackity steps forward, just a little bit, eyes still fixed firmly on Michael’s own even as he shifts his gaze to try and look at Dream. “We can take a break if you need, Dream-”

“I’m fine!” Dream smiles with a little stuttered breath that turns into a small laugh, “It’s- uh. It’s fine. Thanks Michael, but we can practice. Not much time left to waste, you know?”

“You sure, Dream?” Quackity says, suddenly, voice soft and sincere. “I guess it has been a while since you’ve been able to practice- you sure you don’t need a break?”

Dream shakes his head firmly. “No- it’s fine. Really- where’s Sapnap? He should be coming soon, right?”

“If you say so, pal,” Quackity replies, doubt coloring his tone as he pulls out his communicator. “I told Sapnap to come, he replied a couple minutes back; he should be here soon, I think. You want to go meet him at spawn?”

Dream nods, and they begin to set out towards the center of the server, Quackity and Dream quickly taking the lead as Michael falls back. After a minute, Quackity falls into casual conversation, rambling about something as Dream nods, Michael trailing behind the two of them and adding his own input as he sees fit. Sapnap arrives soon after, and the noise level picks up even more after that, Sapnap and Quackity falling into an easy rhythm of banter and quips as they set out to practice Battle Box and Parkour Tag, carefully working their way through the different games under Dream’s tutelage and advice.

And here’s the thing- Michael isn’t stupid. Yeah, he’d hardly consider himself a top tier MCC player, and he’ll be the first to say that he’s nowhere near qualified to deal with the literal laundry list of issues that affect every member of the SMP, but even so, he’s not clueless. He’s good at looking at multiple sides of a situation, doesn’t easily give into intimidation or manipulation, and he’s observant as all hell. So when Quackity wraps his hand around Dream’s wrist, fingers wrapping all the way around until his knuckles pale, when Dream winces, muscles in his arm locking before letting it go limp, not protesting when Quackity drags him forward except in the tiny, tight expressions that flit across his face every few moments, tight and gasping and shaky at the corners - Michael notices.

“See you at the tourney, yeah?” Quackity calls to him after practice with a wink before clapping Dream on the back, Michael watching silently as the muscles of Dream’s neck pull tight, head ducking to his chest. “Good job, big guy,” he says, laughing. “Keep this up for tomorrow and we’ll be good.”

“Mmhm,” Dream mutters after a brief second, “We’re- we’re gonna win.”

“Betting on it, pal,” Quackity replies, voice light in a way that completely fails to explain Dream’s full-body flinch. “MCC, huh? Can’t fucking wait.”

“See you tomorrow, Quackity,” Michael says as he presses DreamSMP on his server list, pretending that a chill doesn’t crawl down his spine at the smile that the other man throws his way in return.

---

There’s no real easy answer.

Michael comes to that conclusion at some point in the middle of the night, restless and pumped on way too much adrenaline to go to sleep. He can’t outright antagonize Quackity, can’t let him know he knows something’s up - not when Quackity had already spent the majority of practice keeping one dark, narrowed eye on him at all times, lips pursed in a slight frown whenever he thought Michael wasn’t looking. He’s not stupid; whatever’s happening between Dream and Quackity is secret, and kept that way for a reason. His mind goes back to the brief flashes of anxiety that had moved over Dream’s face before he could react fast enough to school them back into a carefully neutral position; whatever it is, he doubts it bodes well for Dream in the slightest.

Unfortunately, his hands are pretty damn tied. He knows public opinion on the masked man in the server is overwhelmingly negative, but has no damn idea how far it extends. How many people are in on whatever’s happening in that damn prison? How many people know what would make Dream, bold and bright and recklessly confident in all of Michael’s (rather limited) memories, into someone so quiet, unimposing, nervous? His head spins with the possibilities, with the ever-present reminder to not make a fuss, let the tournament pass on, to never, ever let anyone find out what’s going on within the SMP. Should he do anything at all?

Too soon, it’s morning, and he drags himself out of bed with a groan to glare at the sun streaming through his window. Somewhere, Quackity and Dream and Sapnap are also waking up, are preparing to compete in one of the biggest damn tournaments to exist. Michael sighs, glancing over to where he’s set out his outfit, freshly pressed and waiting. Any other day, and he’d probably be fucking ecstatic. Here, he buries his head in his hands, muffling a frustrated groan against the palm of his hands.

He loves MCC, but he sure as hell doesn’t like whatever the hell is going on with the rest of his team.

Getting into the server goes smoothly enough. The outfit is comfortable and looks damn good, props to whoever made the thing, and the sight of the multicolored crowd successfully manages to tamp down some of his nerves. He busies himself with saying hi to all of the members waiting in the lobby, happy for the chance to talk to some people he hasn’t seen in ages, feels the night of anxieties wash away with every stupid joke told and burst of laughter drawn from his lungs.

They come back the moment Scott steps up in front of the lobby. “Teams, it’s time to head to your team rooms! The tournament will begin in fifteen minutes,” Scott says, expression sunny and bright, “we’re wishing you all luck for a great performance today! May the best team win!”

In a flurry of movement, they’re all whisked to their rooms for a final few minutes of preparation and morale-boosting, and Michael enters the glorified dressing room to Quackity, Dream, and Sapnap already standing there, seemingly in the middle of conversation.

“You ready to win?” Sapnap yells, and Quackity whoops, and Michael manages a small cheer of his own. They’re all visibly nervous; Quackity has scarcely stopped moving, pacing from one side of the room to the next; Sapnap is basically jumping in place where he stands. Dream stands at the very back of the room, looking tense; Michael directs a wave his way and gets a small one in return.

“Game plan, game plan,” Quackity mutters, “do we know what games we’re playing first? Dream?”

He nods at Dream, and Dream stands up straighter, mouth falling open.

“Oh- um,” he hesitates, a strand of hair flopping forwards as he tilts his head in thought. “We’ll want to save Parkour Tag and Battle Box towards the end- maybe something more high-risk at the beginning, but not first, just to boost morale,” his teeth catch on his bottom lip, “Maybe something like To Get To The Other Side? If they have that- or Build Mart, if we can get it out of the way.” He shakes his head. “If that’s alright- I mean-”

“Great,” Quackity cuts in smoothly. “Sapnap? Michael? Does that sound good to you?”

Sapnap flashes a thumbs up, and Michael nods. “Yeah, sounds great. Thanks, Dream.”

Dream’s head snaps towards him, mouth slightly open in shock. The sight of it makes Michael’s gut twist uncomfortably; there’s something about how surprised he is, at the nervous hesitancy with which he spoke that was nothing like what Michael remembers of his easy leadership in that MCC with Techno, that doesn’t sit right at all in his stomach. Even with his expression largely hidden, there’s no mistaking the clear, genuine surprise on his face at the idea of someone thanking him - Michael tries to tell himself that he’s reading too much into it as Quackity continues to speak.

“We’re going to win,” he grins, just a little too sharp at the edges, “so get out there and play like your lives depend on it, yeah?”

Sapnap cheers, and again, Michael and Dream follow. It’s not until he’s outside the door, within the clamor of screaming teams and people counting down with the timer that Michael realizes that Quackity was staring at Dream the entire time.

---

Michael curses, frustrated, when he’s knocked off a platform again, making sure to flip Krinios the bird before he falls into the Void entirely. When he makes it to the other side, Quackity and Dream are already deep in conversation - if you can call it that. Even from here, it looks worryingly one-sided.

“-were you thinking, falling off there-” Quackity’s hand is on Dream’s shoulder, Dream standing stock-still in front of him, “you better be taking this seriously, Dream.”

“Hey- sorry about that,” Michael calls with a wave, “I swear Krinios had it out for me. At least I made it across, right?”

Quackity turns, startled, and in the split-second that it takes for him to register Michael’s appearance, his expression smooths over into something friendlier, more inviting. “Michael!” He says, enthusiastic, and it’s like the anger that had filled his words just seconds before was never there at all. “Don’t- don’t worry about it, man. We all kinda dropped the ball on that one, right Dream?”

The words should be encouraging, just simple ribbing between teammates. Dream’s mask is still ducked down, facing the floor, shoulders slightly hunched in.

“Um- Sapnap did pretty good,” Dream says, quiet, “he got top ten, right?”

Michael looks over to where Sapnap is standing a little ways away, seemingly busy typing on his communicator. Quackity laughs, sharp and loud.

“True,” he punches Dream lightly on the upper arm, and Michael watches the way he freezes the second the fist makes contact with his jacket, “come on, man, you’re losing your touch. You really gonna let yourself get beat by Sapnap?” he shakes his head, still laughing as he pulls open his communicator. “Jesus- even I beat you in that last round. Watch your spot, Dream, I’m coming for you.”

“I mean,” Michael says when a second passes and it becomes clear Dream isn’t going to respond, “Dream was doing pretty well with the last two rounds, right? I thought I saw his name pretty far up there.”

Quackity takes a second before responding, again, staring at Michael oddly as he does. “That’s true,” he concedes, “hey- I was just making a joke, don’t worry. It’s all for fun, right Dream?”

His gaze goes to Dream, and automatically, Michael follows. Dream seems to startle under the attention, twitching Quackity’s direction in the awkward silence that results. Michael watches as the mask slants slightly to face Quackity, as Quackity looks back at him with an intense, unreadable expression, shoulders strangely tense. Whatever unsaid conversation that seems to pass between them is entirely lost on Michael as Dream finally responds with a sudden, almost strangled bark of laughter.

“Yeah- just jokes,” his fingers twist over one another, hands held close together in front of his body, “Though Qu- Q’s right, I- I should probably pick it up. We’re playing to win.”

A ding alerts them to the end of the round, and Michael steadies himself in preparation for the teleport to the next map. As he turns, he catches Quackity’s expression, once again, and the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he continues to look at Dream.

“Good luck,” he calls just before they enter the next round, and tries not to think too much about what he’s saying it for.

---

They manage pretty well for the rest of To Get To The Other Side, finishing with a second place overall that got cheers from Sapnap and even a slight smile from Dream. Hole in the Wall, on the other hand, has been a lot less successful - though Michael will be the first to say that it’s his fault. His practice in the last few months has been lackluster (at best) and it definitely showed in the arena.

He leans over the railing, watching Dream and Sapnap through the crowd of participants left that have yet to be knocked out by the giant walls of slime. Quackity’s standing next to him, having been similarly thrown off the platform early in the round, expression tight and lips set in a small frown, and looking at him for too long makes Michael uneasy so he looks down at the arena again. They’re in the last round, and they’re supposed to be making callouts anyway for their teammates still participating below.

Without thinking, once again, Michael looks over at Dream. Sue him, he knows the guy best and Dream has been acting odd all day, to put it lightly. Even ignoring the part of him that’s screaming that something’s wrong, that there’s something up that has everything to do with the beanie-wearing man standing besides him, it only takes a few minutes of observation to see that Dream is - for the lack of a better word - off. Michael watches as he vaults over another wall, only barely managing to bring himself to his feet in time on the other side. Dream’s movements - even to his untrained eye - have always been fluid, effortless. He jumped and vaulted and ran like gravity didn’t exist, like every physics-bending maneuver he made was as easy as breathing. Michael remembers watching him sprint over the parkour course before, time completely unmatched as he appraised each obstacle and basically flew his way through, sounding hardly even winded when he whooped loudly in victory from the top of the salmon ladder. In total contrast, Dream jerks away from the coming wall again, movements sloppy and harsh as he scrambles to the other side of the disc-shaped arena. He’s still fast, and still making jumps, but everything is strangely angled where it had once been fluid, stopping and starting suddenly, moving in bursts of speed and then skidding to sudden stops.

“WEST!” Quackity shouts, and Michael watches as Dream’s head turns jerkily at the noise before he dives out of the way of the incoming wall and manages, barely, to twist around the side. Michael winces at the tumble he takes on the opposite side, clutching his chest slightly as he stands back up again.

“North!” Michael calls, because he should probably actually help his teammates, huh, and Dream manages to move around this one better, jumping through a hole in the wall and tucking and rolling as he lands. “Nice jump- East!”

It’s an easy wall, thankfully, and both Sapnap and Dream visibly take a breath as they stand in place for the wall to pass over them. As it passes, a droning buzz comes from the speakers, and the walls below them speed up.

“South-to your right!” Michael shouts as they turn, eyes turning between all of the false walls before finally focusing on the right one, his shout echoed by a similar one from Quackity. At each one of the calls from the man besides him, Dream seems to tighten further, movements increasingly erratic as he dodges and weaves around the walls. There’s still a lot of people left - Michael follows Dream through the crowd with a frown, watching as he and Sapnap jump the next wall, Dream’s foot nearly catching on the top edge.

“West-” Dream flinches, jumping over the two-high wall at the last possible second, landing completely off-balance on the other side and falling to the ground. He scrambles to his feet, but there’s already a wall at the west edge of the platform - his head turns, still searching for the wall - Quackity yells.

“LEFT!”

Something in Dream’s movements seem to shift, even in the distance - Michael watches as he immediately, almost robotically, steps to the left at Quackity’s voice, not even jumping, not turning his head to take in his surroundings, just moving instinctually at the words, and slams into the coming wall hard enough to get flung into the middle hole in the platform. Quackity curses, fist crashing into the railing as Dream falls and the chat message shows on their communicators, and a second later he’s materialized beside them, face oddly slack and mask focused somewhere faraway.

“Shit,” Dream mutters when he seems to come back into himself, shaking his head and then turning to the two of them, still by the railing, “Dammit. Sorry, I-“

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael cuts in before Quackity can speak. “You did good.”

“I-” Dream catches Quackity’s gaze, then pushes his head away, mask facing the ground. Something about it and his raised shoulders and the dark, angry glare that Quackity directs over the railing when Michael looks back makes him shift in place, uneasy. “Could’ve done better, ha. Sorry.”

The three of them watch, silent, as Sapnap continues to compete. He manages to get pretty damn far, making it to the top three, but getting knocked off-balance by a wall and off the platform just before the timer sounds. Michael cringes back at the sound of it over the speakers, watches the other contestants settle into place, panting, in victory.

“Great job, Sapnap,” Michael shouts when he materializes in front of them, and the other two are quick to echo his sentiments. If they sound a little duller than they should be, if Quackity’s jaw seems clenched and Dream’s all coiled up like a spring, far too tense, it’s from placing lower than they wanted and slipping in the rankings, not anything else.

Keep your head down, Michael reminds himself, and everything’s gonna be fine. And if the words ring more and more hollow with every repetition, well, that’s for him to ignore and for everyone else to never, ever find out.

---

Buildmart is chosen next, which they all groan at, but at least it’s going to be out early and not left to ruin all of their scores later. Michael takes his place at his build, one third from the left side - it’s some abomination of colored glass and white concrete meant, if he is to guess, to emulate a stained glass window. He’s between Dream and Sapnap, the former positioned in front of a flower-dotted grass field with a picnic table, the latter staring down a miniature car with black concrete for tires and stone buttons for detailing. He breathes a steady breath as they await the countdown, already planning for his trip to the Colors section to grab materials for his build and the others’- Buildmart isn’t his strongest game, but it’s not his worst either, and he’s damn well going to try his best.

He skids into the portal with an armful of colored concrete and glass, spilling half of its contents inside a chest before running to his build. He pulls himself to the crafting bench to craft - he squints at his build - he needs four red glass panes and 3 yellow, right. As he brings the panes to his inventory and begins laying out the frame of the build in concrete, he looks over to Dream, who is noticeably struggling with placing the flowers in his build and getting the placements to match that of the original. He knocks away a white tulip with a muffled curse, sounding frantic as he looks back to the original, and places it again to no avail.

It seems that his struggle hasn’t only caught Michael’s attention, as the statue to the leftmost side of the room explodes in gold coins and confetti - Quackity has finished his build and is now looking at Dream with narrowed eyes. Dream places the flower again, and the build refuses to respond. Quackity’s gaze narrows further, and he opens his mouth-

“Hey Quackity!” Michael starts speaking before he’s even noticed that he’s opened his mouth, fumbling as he regains awareness of what he’s doing and tries to find a direction for his sentence to go, “do you have any concrete?”

Quackity looks at him like he’s grown a second head, which is fair, considering there’s a block of white concrete pretty obviously visible in his hand. “Um- no? Weren’t you supposed to go to Colors?”

Dream finally manages to place the tulip where it belongs, and the build between them disappears in another explosion of gold glitter. Michael laughs awkwardly.

“Sorry- haha. I got a little mixed up.” He places the last piece of white concrete, watching as his own build disappears. A little wooden cottage takes its place, made of what appears to be just oak wood and cobblestone. “Are you going to get wood? Or should I?”

“I- You get wood,” Quackity shakes his head, visibly frustrated, “And I’ll get stone. We have to hurry, we’re falling behind.”

After that, Michael finds it a little too easy - or maybe not easy, but at least tolerable, to interrupt when Quackity looks a little like he’s about to fall on the side of being angry versus just annoyed, stepping between his angry glares at Dream with a forced smile and an incessant string of annoying questions-

“Hey Quackity, do you have any spare iron?”

“Hey Quackity, I think you placed that a little too far back.”

“Hey Quackity, can you take a look to see what I placed wrong?”

It’s not perfect. It’s hardly even functional; Michael knows that Quackity has begun with the habit of directing death glares at his back whenever he thinks he’s not looking, his responses to Michael’s questions becoming more and more clipped, often paired with irritated grumbles and sighs. Sapnap, when Michael looks at him, seems largely engrossed with his own builds, but he’s also begun looking over at the two of them with a vaguely dissatisfied expression, and Dream only seems to be getting more jumpy with every frustrated growl out of Quackity’s mouth. Even Michael’s forced levity and falsely ignorant questions can’t do much against Quackity’s anger when they walk out of Buildmart dead last for the minigame, dropping their team all the way down to seventh in the overall rankings, and the tension within the team as they walk out - Quackity nearly stomping, Dream following with his hands wringing around each other and head ducked fearfully - is almost enough to make Michael scream. He looks at the scoreboard with a worried expression as he enters the Decision Dome, trying to quell the sinking feeling in his gut.

There’s still five more games to go, and he’s not sure how long they can last before something snaps.

---

Battle Box is chosen next, and they react to the game with quiet cheers and slightly grim faces. Michael’s been in enough MCCs to know that this game, of any, is crucial - after their lacking performances in the last two games, a good showing at Battle Box will be crucial to pull them back into the competition and raise morale. With Sapnap and Dream, if this were any normal game, they should be able to sweep through a good amount of the competition without much effort. As it is, though, Michael looks at the two more combat-oriented members of his team with a worried expression, the two barely even able to meet each other’s eyes. Their interactions so far have been less than promising- if they can’t hold it together for this round, well.

Michael shakes his head. They’ll do fine. They have to.

Even so, the first round only seems to confirm his concerns - they get woolrushed almost immediately, and in Dream and Sapnap’s stumbling to get to mid, nearly crashing into each other and focusing their efforts on the same player by accident, the other team manages to fill out the wool, sending them back to the spawn box even more frustrated than before.

“Amazing teamwork, guys,” Quackity snarks immediately, and Michael rolls his eyes.

“Like you did that much.”

Sapnap is still staring at Dream oddly, Dream turning his head to avoid his gaze. The two of them look largely oblivious to Quackity and his whole deal, even as Quackity whirls around to give him the stink eye.

“You didn’t do anything either, if I remember correctly,” Quackity mutters, and Michael shrugs.

“Fair.”

A ding alerts them to the round’s end, and they resign themselves to preparing for the next round. Michael picks the extra arrows from the wall, knowing that no one else will want the kit, and watches as Dream anxiously runs his hands over the crossbow.

The next round goes better, barely; Michael and Quackity end up knocked out pretty early, but Dream and Sapnap manage to kill the rest of the team soon after. He watches from the box as they fill in the wool, Dream looking awfully tense as he shears away the white wool for Sapnap to fill it with red. Quackity watches them both with a tight expression, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

Michael turns away, ignoring him, going back to watching Dream and Sapnap still standing within the arena. Both of them look awkward, oddly out of step with each other - Michael’s not watched them fight much, but he knows that they have a reputation as a pair, was there for the Sky Battle round where they completely wiped through the competition. Even here, Sapnap moves forward and Dream flinches back - there’s something heavy and tense between them, lingering in the few words they’ve spoken to each other, if they’ve even spoken to each other at all, one always rushing forward too fast or following just a little too slow. They’re still brilliant fighters, almost unrivaled in hand-to-hand combat and with swords, but the faltering communication is sure to hurt them more in the future.

His worries come true just three rounds later, the two in between being narrow wins for their team, each a little more shaky than would be comfortable. Michael has found himself easing off the worst of his anxiety in verbally sparring with Quackity, jabbing at the other with offhand remarks and little needling jokes to keep his attention off the other two, especially as his glare has become more pronounced and his words more angry. Even so, nothing he does or can do will fix the odd tension between Dream and Sapnap, whose communication remains as stilted and awkward as ever.

They’re facing a stronger team, PVP wise, with Punz and Seapeekay, and Michael ends up falling in a bow duel against Jack. He watches as the Captain falls to a potion by Sapnap, then as Jack is taken out by a crossbow bolt courtesy of Dream, just before Quackity falls to a well-timed bow shot from the opposing team.

That leaves the strongest PVPers to battle it out, and Dream and Sapnap manage to team up and kill CPK - but not without taking a nasty damage potion to the face that must leave the two of them low. Michael watches Punz, booking it to mid with a crossbow, anxiously - both of them would be a oneshot with the thing, and on the condition that he takes no damage before fighting with either of them outright, he’s probably got enough health to hold out a few hits.

Sapnap pulls out a health potion, and Michael grins - that’ll be good for the two of them, and should secure them the win - only for him to gesture roughly with his sword and for Dream to stagger backwards, panic flashing over his face. He only seems to grow more fearful at the sound of glass shattering on the ground, falling backwards further - far enough to be largely out of range of health pot - and in their shock, Punz manages to catch both of them off guard and nail Sapnap with a crossbow bolt that downs him for the round before similarly dispatching Dream in two hits of his sword.

Sapnap explodes upon respawn in the box - “What was that? I had a health pot!”

“I-” Dream fumbles, face still oddly pale, “Sorry I didn’t- I- I-”

“We had that round!” Sapnap’s arms flail forward as he gestures angrily, Dream freezing further as one hand skims past his shoulder. “I can’t believe- I had a health pot! Punz was on, like, half! We could’ve killed him!”

“Easy, easy,” Quackity moves forward, putting a hand on both of their shoulders - Sapnap seems to relax immediately, while Dream, if anything, only looks more tense. “It’s time for the next round - we’ll talk about this later, alright?”

Dream nods, movements overly tense, and Quackity flashes a toothy smile his way as Sapnap moves back, still mumbling to himself. He and Quackity move to talk in the back corner, words quiet enough that Michael cannot make them out, and something sick and cold slithers over his spine. Sapnap and Quackity are fiancés, aren’t they?

Michael looks over at Dream, mask still covering his face as he looks away through the glass to the arena, shoulders still tight as Michael’s pretty sure they’ve been for as long as he’s seen him since he came onto the server. He remembers the panic that make itself obvious on his face every time Quackity came up to him, even as covered as it is, the similar- if not the same- fear that had painted his face when he respawned fresh off of the Battle Box round after Sapnap’s sword had passed a little too close to his body.

Quackity and Dream- he’s sure, even if he doesn’t want to admit it, that there’s something going on there, dark and dreadful and poisonous. Who’s to say that Sapnap isn’t involved, as well?

---

They finish Battle Box decently well, but not as well as they’d hoped, pulling them up to fifth place with a decently large gap between them and fourth. Quackity and Dream disappear immediately as the Audience Votes begin coming in, leaving Sapnap and Michael to stand awkwardly in the lobby to wait for the rest of their team to come back. Michael watches the crowd for a glimpse of Quackity and Dream, comes up empty. A sigh fizzles through his teeth as he looks up into the sky, the endless blue doing little to ease his nerves - he’s worried, even if he doesn’t want to think about it, for his teammates. For Dream.

It doesn’t take a genius to see that the man is scared of Quackity, that there’s an odd sort of history there that Michael conveniently has no information about. Whatever it is, it’s left Dream unsure and uncharacteristically nervous, left the entire team floundering without proper leadership to tie them all together. Really, a part of him knows that the Championships should be the least of his concerns - if he were braver, or a little better at combat, or a little less inclined to just let things pass as they always have, then he’d be raising a fuss. Getting in the way, talking to Dream, doing something other than making backhanded compliments to Quackity that he’s sure have been doing little more than annoy the man further.

“Michael?” Sapnap comes within his line of sight, lips pressed together in a carefully put-together expression that Michael is sure will collapse the moment they’re away from others’ prying eyes, “Can we speak for a moment?”

Michael forces another easy smile to his face as he turns towards his teammate, feels a little disgusted at the amount of them he’s had to use to simply function with the rest of his team. “Sure! Where to?”

They walk at a brisk pace to the team room, Sapnap’s eyes focused forwards the entire time, not speaking. If he’s being honest, it’s a little awkward, but the lighthearted comment on his tongue to break the silence dies out the minute Sapnap closes the door and looks back at him with fierce, focused eyes boring into him.

“What’s your deal?” He hisses immediately, words pitched low even though he doesn’t really have to - there’s no one nearby, and the team rooms are decently soundproofed. Michael feels his hackles rising as Sapnap’s arms cross in front of him, eyes still focused on his own as he talks. “I’m not going to lie- I don’t know you that well, even though you’re on the SMP now, but can you quit it with Quackity already?”

“Quit what?” Michael snarks - sue him - matching Sapnap’s tone with irritation of his own.

“Don’t- you’ve been antagonizing Quackity all day,” Sapnap’s hand runs through his hair, messing up his hair and tangling it into knots, “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re kind of in the middle of a competition here? So it’d be really nice if you could save the fighting for until after we’re done?”

“Says you?” Michael can’t help the retort this time, huffing irately at the offended expression that flashes over the other’s face, “I don’t really know if you’ve noticed, but your teamwork has been a little less than stellar, today. Pot calling the kettle black, much?”

“What-” Sapnap looks confused, even through his anger, gesturing more and more wildly. “What do you even mean?”

“Oh, so are we just ignoring what just happened in Battle Box then?”

Sapnap’s eyes flash as he closes into himself again, hands gripping at his upper arms as he crosses his arms in front of his chest once again. “That- that’s different. That’s because of Dream.”

“Oh, just keep blaming it on the other guy, why don’t you?”

“No-” Sapnap shakes his head furiously. “You haven’t been on here for nearly as long, you don’t get it, Michael. Dream- he’s-,” Sapnap flails, and Michael groans at the familiar words.

“Dream’s what? I was on the team with the guy before, you know. It’s kind of the reason why he invited me in the first place?” He raises an eyebrow. “We worked together perfectly well then - am I supposed to believe that his self-proclaimed ‘best friend’ can’t do the same?”

“You don’t understand,” Sapnap repeats, expression hard and oddly far away, “Dream- he’s changed- he’s done so many terrible things. I don’t know what he’s said to convince you, but he’s bad news, man. He’s hurt- so many people.”

“Oh- you want to talk about hurting people?”

Michael isn’t quite sure what comes over him - only really realizes a white-hot flash of rage lancing through his chest, a sleepless night and half a competition’s worth of anxiety and frustration and build up combining into a sizzling spike of fury that briefly tinges his vision red.

“How about the way Dream looks like he’s about to keel over whenever anyone gets close to him? How about how he flinches back at literally every loud noise and fast movement? How about how Quackity’s been making these stupid, angry comments at him for the entire competition that make him freeze for a minute each time? Or how about when you were in Battle Box and Dream backed away from your sword like he thought you were gonna drive it through his chest?” Michael barely feels himself stepping forward with each word, jabbing his index finger into the other’s chest. “You want to talk about hurting people? How about you go talk to that fiancé of yours and then come back to talk?”

A loud, droning buzz comes over the speakers, alerting them of the end of the break. Michael steps back, face flushed in embarrassment, before the world whirls away and they’re teleported back into the Decision Dome.

He adamantly refuses to meet Sapnap’s eyes as Quackity and Dream materialize in the sector with them, Quackity’s hand clamped around Dream’s upper arm as the other man keeps his eyes fixed firmly on the floor, looking even more panicked and frozen than before the break.

“You ready to win?” Quackity laughs, and Michael watches as his hand tightens around the sleeve of Dream’s jacket, knuckles paling from the strain.

“Yeah,” Michael tries to cheer, and it feels like ash on his tongue. “Let’s do this.”

---

Survival Games ends up being picked next - Quackity and Sapnap quickly pull up to the front of the group, close enough to be within eyesight but too far to really pick up their conversation. Michael keeps an eye out for the reddish glow of their bodies as they scout the surrounding areas for chest, staying back with Dream as they look at the other side of the road. He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t feel a smug sort of satisfaction of Sapnap seemingly confronting Quackity about whatever the hell has been going on, as awkward as his whole outburst had been. As it is, some time with Dream is nice without Quackity watching over his shoulder like a hawk - he directs a small, genuine smile at the man by his side that Dream seems to do a double take at before shyly returning it with one of his own.

“There- I think I see a chest,” Michael points under a lamppost, running to the wooden box and flicking the lid upwards. He pulls out a chain chestplate that he promptly puts on himself, then throws over the iron boots to his teammate as well as a small stone axe that he’s sure Dream will make better use of. “We should probably catch up to the others - don’t want to be caught off guard while separated.”

Dream nods, and the two of them pick up the pace before finding another chest that Dream rummages through, this time, finding an iron sword that Michael takes for himself and a cake.

“You’ve been doing really well so far,” Michael says after a few minutes of quiet, words becoming more firm when Dream looks up at him with a surprised expression. “Seriously- you’ve been doing great, man.”

“Thanks,” Dream smiles, words quiet and terribly sincere, and the sinking pit in Michael’s gut returns at the tone. “Not as good as I should, though. I’ve been underperforming a lot,” he laughs a little at the words, but even to Michael’s ears it rings hollow. “It’s not over yet, though.”

“No it’s not,” Michael concedes, rearranging his inventory as they run. “But it’s good enough, man, really - just look at my rankings.”

Dream huffs. “You’ve been doing good, Michael.”

“And you’ve been doing a hell of a lot better than me,” Michael tips his head in his direction. “Give yourself some more credit, man. You’ve been playing well.”

Dream smiles again, but even now the corners of his mouth seem tight, tense. “I need to play better, though, if we want to win,” he says, matter-of-fact, analytical to a damn fault. Michael rolls his eyes, but nods to concede the point.

“Sure, but that goes for all of us, Dream,” he shakes his head. “And it’s okay if we don’t win, you know?”

“No.”

Michael turns, frowning. Dream’s tone has become oddly flat, eyes dead as he continues to stare at the pavement under their feet. He seems to be chewing on his lip anxiously, startled out of his own thoughts when he looks up to meet Michael’s gaze. “I mean- I don’t know. I really have- want to win.”

There’s something so carefully worded about the admission, quiet and scraped open and raw in the slow sincerity of the words. Michael wants to poke at it, wants to understand what’s left him so unsure of every step, what determination lies behind the words that has left desperation clinging to every shallow breath he draws. A crack of thunder on the horizon, heralding a player’s death, reminds him that now is not the time.

Keep your head down.

“Alright,” he smiles thinly, hoping that the fracturing, yawning pit of emptiness in his chest isn’t obvious in the words. “Then we’re going to win.”

---

Michael skids to a stop at the finish line, feeling the elytra deequip as he’s thrown into spectator mode. He runs his hands through his wind-tousled hair, feeling it strain against his fingers as he roughly finger-combs it back into place. Dream and Sapnap are off to the side, standing next to each other but seemingly not speaking - Michael smiles as he floats over, still shaking the adrenaline off from the race.

“Hey,” the two look up, smile in recognition, and Dream waves; there’s a small smile on his face, strained but present. “You both did really good!”

“Thanks, Michael,” Dream laughs, earnest, “I did decent, I guess- haha. Top ten at least.”

Sapnap whoops. “We’re popping off!” Michael cheers in agreement, and their efforts manage to pull Dream’s smile a little wider as he ducks his head to look away again.

“Thanks, guys.”

They watch as Quackity flies through the finish line, appearing in front of them and shaking his arms out as he gets his bearings.

“Geez- that trident,” he shakes his head, looks up. “Hey, there you guys are. How’d we do?”

“Dream got seventh,” Sapnap scrolls through his comm, looking through the rows of contestants and their times as they come in, interspersed by the occasional chat message, “And I got 10th. Michael got- 28th, I think? And you got 32nd.”

“Hmm,” Quackity hums, “What do you think, Dream? Is that good enough to pull us to Dodgebolt?”

Once again, Michael watches as Dream stiffens under the scrutiny, head ducking down and looking for all the world like he’d rather be anywhere else. “Um- I don’t know,” Dream mumbles, “I messed up a trident- fell into the void once, probably could’ve done better otherwise-” his voice trails off, tensing further as Quackity takes his usual spot by his side, jabbing an elbow none-too-lightly into his ribs.

“But you didn’t, though,” Quackity says, tone flippant, “so what do you think? With those placements- is it going to be enough?”

“Hey, we did great, man,” Michael glares at him, more forward than he’d usually be - but all he can see is the shoulder that he has pressed against Dream’s arm, the way Dream’s stood stock still since the moment he made contact, “Lay off of Dream, would you? He did great.”

“Yeah, Q,” Michael’s eyebrows raise in surprise as Sapnap chimes in from the side, rising further when Sapnap moves forward to link his arm with Quackity’s own and half-drag him away from Dream. “Chill out, man, we popped off. We’re gonna fucking win this, ok?”

Quackity’s lips press together; he’s still smiling, but there’s no mistaking the seething darkness that lingers in his narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows, gaze still trained on the pale off-white disk of Dream’s mask. Still, with the rest of the team against him, he’s in a losing fight and he knows it; Michael watches as he visibly backs down, rolling his shoulders back as he lets Sapnap pull him further back.

“We’re going to fucking win this,” he repeats, and Michael wonders how he manages to make the words sound so much like a threat.

---

“Sky battle,” Sapnap calls as the decision dome below them lights up in confirmation of the penultimate game, expression immediately becoming more focused as he turns back to the rest of the team. “Alright- strats, what are we thinking?”

“There’s the iron at spawn,” Dream starts, interrupted by the teleport to the Sky Battle arena, making him cut himself off comically and take a second to shake off the resulting disorientation, “And then there’s the iron in the nearby island. We gotta pick one, tower as soon as we can.”

“Got it,” Sapnap looks down, seemingly calculating, before looking up again - Michael has heard him compared to fire before, but he thinks this is the first time he’s really seen it; there’s a veritable blaze burning in his eyes as he looks at each member of the team, easily taking charge as they prepare for the first round. “Same buddy system as Survival Games - Q, stick with me, Michael, stick with Dream. I’ll tower to the next island- Dream, you good with getting the iron at spawn and crafting armor for us?”

Dream startles, before flashing a small thumbs up at the other - Sapnap smiles wider, teeth bared dangerously.

“This is our game,” he cheers, and Michael enthusiastically whoops in reply, “we’re winning this, you got that team? Let’s go!”

This, Michael thinks, is the way the games should’ve gone - they jump into action upon the start of the game, Michael watching as Dream races through both chests on the spawn island, getting the iron and jumping down cleanly with a water bucket before following Sapnap’s bridge to the other island. He tosses over a pair of leggings and boots as he lands, then takes Sapnap’s excess iron to craft the other pieces of iron for himself and Sapnap as the other man begins shooting at opposing teams. Their communication is near wordless, simple one- or two-word requests communicating all they need as they follow each other seamlessly into the main arena area, sealing off their entrance as they search the ring for other teams.

Sapnap, especially, seems to have shifted - instead of waiting for Dream to take the lead, he seems comfortable barrelling on forward on his own, trusting for Dream to follow his steps. Michael watches as the two of them easily work through the two lagging members of Orange, shooting through a gap in the wall to catch an unsuspecting Yellow player chased by the border. Michael ends up dying to an unlucky block of TNT placed on his head - curses out what appears to be Quig, bounding over to the other side of the arena, and follows Dream and Sapnap as they continue to fight their way through the competition.

It’s not perfect, for sure - Dream hesitates at a bad place a minute later, ending with Sapnap getting 2v1ed and exploding in a flash of red sparkles. Dream is similarly dispatched a few seconds after, and the three of them watch Quackity, caught in the crossfire of two other teams, before he also goes down.

“Good work, team,” Sapnap says as he appears, disoriented, in spectator mode, and they watch the remaining two teams battling in a rapidly shrinking border before Fruit falls as well, leaving Pink as the winners. “That was close- we’ve got this.” The conviction in his voice leaves no room for argument, and Michael, briefly, feels bad for anyone that stands in the way of it.

With the second round, they once again fall into rhythm without any major hiccups - someone tries to cut them off before entering the main arena, but are made quick work of by Sapnap’s relentless onslaught. As Michael watches, Dream seems to regain confidence as well, moving more to fight with Sapnap side by side instead of just playing support, tugging him back from a risky play and catching Punz in a nasty combo that does him in when he manages to slip past Sapnap.

The four of them end up in the final stand off in the middle, but end up getting caught too high up and killed by the border before they can jump down. Sapnap hisses at the narrow defeat, but the disappointment has hardly seemed to dim his determination - if anything, it seems to burn brighter.

“Last round,” he mutters, and Michael watches as Dream walks up to him, bumping him lightly with his shoulder.

“This is our game,” he says, a small smile appearing on his face, and Sapnap returns it with a fiery, blinding one of his own.

“Ours,” he says, and even just standing on the side, watching - Michael believes it.

Still, his concerns have yet to disappear - they linger in his mind as they jump into an adrenaline-filled last round, jumpy from excitement and victory just within their grasps. Dream is still more jittery than he should be, taking a second more than usual to react to fights, and his teamwork with Sapnap - while good - is still noticeably rusty. Michael’s lips thin at the memory of Dream backing away from Sapnap’s sword in Battle Box, hunched into himself, almost on the floor, with a clearly desperate edge to his expression - and no matter how he tries, he can’t quite manage to shake it off.

Unfortunately enough, the third round doesn’t bode well for them from the start - Quackity gets bowed off while bridging to the main arena, and upon entrance there they end up flanked, hard, by another team in a conflict that gets Michael killed within seconds. Sapnap and Dream book it to the other side of the arena, where they manage to work through a full team without too much trouble - but the next minute brings another half-team flying at them from the back, catching them in the middle of trying to recuperate. The two focus Dream in the middle of eating a steak, and Michael watches as Dream steps back instead of moving forward to fight, that same shade of fear making his muscles seize as he stands, stock still, watching helplessly as swords fly his way- Michael cries out, but there’s nothing he can do-

Between one blink and the next, Sapnap is standing in front of Dream, a snarl painting his features as he whirls through both players in a fury. Michael watches, awed, as his sword weaves and dances between the two attacking Dream, making quick work of them both until they’re no more than items scattered over the ground, then grabs Dream by the wrist and drags him up a nearby ladder onto the upper floor, plopping him by the wall and then backing off.

Sapnap stands back as Dream sits against the wall, breathing fast and labored, dropping to his knees with his hands in front of him, palms up, no weapons in hand. Michael watches, frantic, for the signs of any teams nearby - with Dream panicking and Sapnap’s back to the rest of the arena, they’d be easy pickings - but for once, luck seems to be on their side, because no one comes. Dream heaves a breath through his lungs, deep and shuddery - Sapnap watches, lips flat from concern, but doesn’t speak.

“You good to continue?” he asks, when Dream seems calm enough to recognize his surroundings, and Dream looks up at the words, jaw slack from shock and disorientation, before his head dips in a firm nod.

“Good,” Sapnap smiles, tight-lipped and fiercely determined, fiercely loyal, as he reaches out a hand that Dream moves to take. “Let’s go fuck them up, yeah? You and me, just like we used to.”

Michael watches, heart in his chest, as they stand together to face the rest of the competition, towering towards the middle and facing off with the remaining teams, watches as they move forwards through explosions and buckets of lava, coalescing onto the middle island, as they battle through the remaining opponents as one in a clean spiral of clashing blades and flying arrows, fighting with their backs to each other in the center of the arena. He watches as a well-placed fishing rod by Dream knocks their final opponent off the platform, leaving them in the middle, triumphant, as the only remaining team -

Watches, a brilliant, bubbling laugh in his chest as Dream and Sapnap take their spots in the middle of the arena, standing side by side as Sapnap raises Dream’s hand in victory, both laughing and cheering into the sky.

---

Their performance in Sky Battle manages to pull them to third - but second place still stands a few hundred coins away, and they watch anxiously as Parkour Tag is chosen as the last game and they are transported over the arena.

“Last game,” Sapnap calls, “We’ve got this, alright?”

He gets terse, short nods in return - it’ll be a close game, and even Michael is feeling the pressure. He breathes a soft, quiet breath through his teeth as they prepare, looking over to the opposite team as they choose their hunters and runners.

“Dream, you up to hunting first four?” Sapnap seems to be watching the effects of his words more, waiting for Dream’s agreement before moving forward, sliding into the position of leader easily when Dream seems to struggle. Dream nods and steps into the hunter’s box, lips pressed together, flat and focused, and Michael turns back to the arena to plan out his route.

Parkour, by far, is not his strong suit. It hadn’t been his strong suit during Parkour Warrior and sure as hell isn’t it now - he enjoys it well enough, but with the pressure of a hunter on him or the time creeping past and the competition standings hanging over his head like a guillotine, he’s prone to slipping up and he knows it. The map is full of dizzying, multi-colored structures and difficult jumps, the twists and turns of the arena making his head spin. Being good at parkour is more than being good at movement - it involves being able to make split-second decisions and execute them with no time to hesitate. Unfortunately, Michael isn’t particularly good at any of that, so Parkour Tag mostly just stresses him the hell out.

He sets out to the arena, listening for callouts over comms as he fumbles over the buildings. Halfway through the game, Dream’s voice comes through comms, quiet, focused.

“Gottem.”

“Nice, Dream,” Michael smiles, trying not to trip over a particularly hard jump, only to fall to being tagged in the back by the opposing team’s hunter - Ant, if he remembers right. “Sapnap and Q are still in- we’ve got this.”

Once again, each time, Dream races through the opposing team in seconds, seemingly going faster with each round. Michael has heard his reputation as a hunter before, but only now is he really appreciating the extent - the speed at which he manages to dispatch all three opponents is downright terrifying. They manage to win all four rounds, lingering around second place overall on the leaderboards, before Sapnap and Dream switch off for hunting.

With each round, Michael watches Dream in the lobby, watching as he tenses further in focus and determination and no small degree of fear, but it hadn’t been nearly as obvious in between rounds. Now, with him in the arena with Quackity and himself, Dream’s jumpiness is all that more palpable, adrenaline making him pace and jump in place from where he stands at the edge of the place. The glass lowers, and he explodes into motion, bounding on top of the nearest tower to wait for the hunter to come towards them.

Michael ends up caught first, early in the round, once again, and resolves to following Dream over the glass to watch his movements and make callouts for the hunter chasing behind him. Watching Dream move through the arena, dodging below fixtures and through tunnels and jumping from tower to tower with seemingly no regard for gravity pulling him down, it’s become all the more obvious that this is his element. He makes another hairpin turn around a pole, kicking himself up over a tower and then diving from it to a nearby building, landing on a ledge inside it, hands clutching the wall - Michael watches, quietly awed, as he outlasts the hunter, landing in small, panting breaths in the lobby.

“Great work,” he cheers, quiet, as Dream shakes off the last dregs of the adrenaline, all of them watching the leaderboard anxiously, “Just three more rounds, alright?”

The rounds that follow continue in much of the same vein - Dream, once he’s gotten started, seems near-impossible to chase down; Michael and Quackity provide support, distracting the hunter for as long as they can until they get tagged, but part of him wonders if it’s all even necessary. Dream flies from structure to structure seemingly unhindered by The Laws That Be, expression firm, if a little frantic, as he parkours his way through the arena. To their credit, the hunters chase, and several come pretty close - but Dream, worked up on adrenaline or anxiety or some twisted mix of the two, races over and around the buildings within the arena like his life depends on it.

It’s a surprisingly (if sickeningly) apt description - the skill in parkour is far from unacknowledged on Dream’s record; they all know his reputation with Parkour Warrior, all know that there are little that can match his skill as a traucer - but there’s something newly desperate in the way he runs, the muscles of his body tight and taut even in between rounds, expression permanently tight at the corners from fear. His movements, lacking in their usual fluidity, are made up with sheer speed and mad scrambles up walls that no one else seems to dare replicate. It’s concerning, even to Michael’s untrained eye, how frantic he seems the entire time, the flashes of expressions that he’ll direct towards the hunter like being caught by them will be his end, but- if anything, at least it’s effective.

Between his parkour and Sapnap’s own skill, they manage to dominate the other teams without much issue, and the bonuses from eliminating the other team first combined with Dream’s survival points each round land them a first place for the game by just a few hundred coins. The four of them watch with bated breaths for the event standings, whooping and cheering together when it shows the red rabbits in second -

“DODGEBOLT, BABY!” Quackity cheers, loudly, and the rest of them join him, laughing and screaming incoherently, “LET’S FUCKING GO!”

“LET’S FUCKING GO!” Sapnap punches the air with a loud, resolute whoop of joy, and Dream - still shaking off the jitters of his last round in Parkour Tag - soon joins in with a few cheers of his own.

Michael watches them all with a smile on his face as they cheer in victory - Dodgebolt has them against the Yellow Yaks, which will be a hard match up, but between Dream and Sapnap’s skill, if they all stay focused, they shouldn’t have any issue.

They’ve done it. They’ve made it to Dodgebolt - if they keep their heads in the game, then they should win. All he has to do is keep his head down a little longer, long enough to win them the game, long enough for them to go home with new crowns and new coins, long enough for him to go back to living his quaint little life in his quaint little house - going back to heckling the Warden at night and hanging with Bad and Puffy, working on builds and living life away from the rest and pretending that nothing is wrong. The server will go back to normal come tomorrow, and it will all be okay.

The smile slips off his face.

They’ve done it. And then they’ll go back to the SMP, and Dream might evade whatever immediate consequences come with losing, but there’s no evidence that whatever’s caused that heartstopping, devastating fear that has characterized his every move is going to stop. They’ll win, and they’ll go back to the SMP, and they’ll keep dying and fighting wars and keep pretending that the world they live in is normal; they’ll go back to the server, and Michael will go back in his house while Dream goes back into his cell directly across from it, still locked in a black box with no way in or out, no means of communication with anyone outside, locked away with the key thrown away for anything to happen with no one to know-

Michael glances over to Dream, to the tense edge of his shoulders that has never left for as long as the tournament has continued and long before. To the grey-faced, grey-eyed inhabitants of the SMP, coming to the Championships with sealed lips and a shared determination to never reveal that anything is wrong, to pretend that things are normal and move on.

Michael’s hands clench into fists at his side, then unclench, the helplessness cutting through his excitement like a splash of cold water straight through his chest. They’ll win the Championship, and then what? They’ll go back to the server, and then what?

He looks up at the sky, avoiding the eyes of the rest of his team as they are teleported to the arena. Around him, nothing comes in reply.

---

“Shit-”

Sapnap disappears in a flourish of red particles, and Michael winces as Dream picks up the arrow he left behind, biting his lip as he watches the opposite side maneuver on the ice.

Both of Dream’s shots hit true, and Michael switches to dodging over the ice as the opposing team begins to shoot. His mind is still buzzing with uncertainty, questions whirling around his skull and making his head spin, the reminder to just let things be raging against the anxiety that has wormed its way deep into his bones for the better part of the day. His performance has fallen a bit as a result, and they’re tied, 2-2, for the last round of Dodgebolt against Yellow - winner takes all.

He doesn’t know what to do. He wants to tell, but he wants to fall back into the background. He wants to make a difference, but also wants nothing more than to go on pretending that everything is fine. It would be so, so easy to move on and wash his hands of the whole affair - it’s not like anyone else will know, only himself and the guilt that he’s sure will haunt him to remind him of his failures. Is there even anything he can do? He’s no genius at combat, or parkour, or strategy- all he has are his eyes, his ability to see what the hell is happening with no means to change any of it.

An arrow whizzes towards him, too low to hit, and falls to the ice by his feet. Michael feels it plop into his inventory as he runs past it, shivering slightly from the cold or adrenaline or some mix of the two - not that he can really tell. The other team still has an arrow, the gleaming arrowhead catching the light as the person shooting - Jack, it looks like - moves it from one side to the other, looking for someone to aim. Michael lets the arrow into his hand, feeling its weight.

A sudden shock of clarity.

He staggers back and nearly trips over his own feet, feeling relief rock his body when he manages to catch his balance - his eyes rake over the rest of his team, still dodging over the ice, completely focused on the opposing side. He worries his lip between his teeth - it’s a risk. It’s a hell of a risk, and if he messes up - they’re fucked. They’re more than fucked. There’s a good chance that this does more harm than good, a good chance that it won’t do anything at all.

Michael takes a deep breath, and nocks his arrow.

With his bow pointed to the floor, he doesn’t think anyone’s noticed yet - especially the rest of his team, gazes still trained over the centerline to the other side of the arena. Michael plants his feet, raises his bow, aims - he’s standing still, too still, and he can already see Jack swinging the bow towards him from the corner of his eye, preparing to let the arrow fly directly at him. That’s fine. It doesn’t matter.

Keep your head down.

Michael lets go, and Quackity manages to turn just in time to see the arrow hit him between his eyes.

Not this time.

Michael just manages a wicked, satisfied smirk before the world disappears in a flash of red.

---

“What the hell was that?”

Michael teleports into the middle of the MCC main lobby, finding Quackity already mid-yell in front of the podium, where the Yellow Yaks have taken their places as the winners of the Championships, new, shining crowns on their heads as they greet the crowd with smiles and cheers. Michael turns to where the rest of the team has gathered in the corner, Quackity hissing angrily at Dream, curled into himself against the fence.

“I- I-”

“You lost us the fucking game, that’s what you did,” Quackity grabs him by the arm, rage painting his features as he yanks Dream closer to him, ignoring the other’s panicked yell at the proximity and flailing to get away. “What the fuck- you had both the arrows. How the fuck did you miss that?”

“Back the hell off, Quackity.”

Michael steps forward, bodily shoving Quackity out of the way - Dream’s head rises just enough for the two eyes painted on his mask to look above where they’d been hidden behind his arms, though Michael’s far too lost in his own anger to pay any mind to him at the moment. Quackity turns his furious direction towards Michael, only seeming to get angrier as he meets his eyes.

“Oh, fuck off, Michael- you-” he rakes a hand through his hair, “You fucking- we fucking lost because of you, you know that? We had that! We were going to win that, you fucker-”

“And then what, Quackity?” The words Michael had been pushing back the entire day come forth, mixed with his simmering anxiety and muffled anger that he’d been forced to push down, game after game after game, one bubbling mess of emotion underscoring his tone and making Quackity rear back, “Then you’ll go back the SMP and pretend that everything’s fine and dandy? Go back to your shiny little country with a shiny new coin, beat up Dream a few times to work off the adrenaline because, hey, it’s not like anyone else is gonna know if he’s black and blue inside of that shitstain of a prison, is that right?”

The flash of panic that makes its way over Quackity’s face is more than enough to confirm the worst of Michael’s assumptions, and the rage that has made a home in his chest only burns hotter.

“What- what the fuck did he say?” Quackity barely manages to catch onto his tone, pressing harder with narrowed eyes and a snarl, “He’s lying, you fucking idiot, that’s all he ever fucking does-”

“He’s not told me shit,” Michael presses forward, forcefully pushing Quackity away from Dream, who is cowering from both of them behind him, “But you would know a hell of a lot about that, wouldn’t you Quackity?”

“I have no fuckin’ clue what you’re on about, pal,” Quackity shakes his head, hair whipping past his eyes, “And I’d recommend you shut your fucking mouth before you go around hurling baseless accusations- I could have you sued for defamation, you know-”

“Oh, we’re talking law, now? Fine! We’ll talk legalities- how about we start with that casino of yours and work from there?”

Sapnap moves over, quiet thus far as he watched from the sidelines, and Michael watches as Quackity relaxes, minisculely, at his approach - only to tense further when Sapnap presses a hand to his shoulder, meeting his eyes with blazing eyes staring right at his.

“Q,” Sapnap says, voice uncharacteristically serious, “tell the truth, now- what did you do?”

Quackity laughs - it sounds unsure, even in Michael’s ears, “Sapnap? You can’t tell me you believe-” he waves his hands frantically, “this- this fucking asshole, now, do you hear him? He sounds- he’s literally out of his fucking mind-”

Sapnap shakes his head, firm. “Quackity, I’ll need you to cut the bullshit. What did you do?”

“He’s backing up Dream, Sapnap,” Quackity focuses his gaze on Sapnap, something creeping up in his tone, sweet and cloying despite the bitter tone, that Michael can’t quite recognize, “You know what Dream is like- he pulled the same shit with you, remember? You and George? Tommy?” He waves a hand at Dream, who ducks down further at the attention, “He hasn’t changed, man! He’s still pulling the same bullshit, still manipulating people for the hell of it- you know, the exact same thing he did to you? Don’t fall for that again, man.”

“I-” Sapnap seems to hesitate, conflict warring over his features.

“Look at me, Sap - you know what Dream’s like. He pretends to be your friend, makes up some stupid bullshit to justify his shit - Michael hasn’t been around for as long, not like the two of us, remember? He doesn’t know.” Quackity brings his hand to Sapnap’s own, ignoring Michael’s protests as he laces their fingers together, “I care about you, Sap. All of this- I’m just worried that he’ll end up manipulating you again. I’m just trying to protect you.”

“...liar.”

“What?”

Sapnap steps back, wrenching his hand out of Quackity’s own. His expression, out of what Michael can see from the sliver of his face that is facing him, is stormy with fury and no small amount of regret - Quackity steps back, unease finally beginning to flicker in the corners of his self-satisfied expression as Sapnap stares him down.

“You’re a liar, Quackity.” Sapnap draws himself up. “Now, I’m asking this for the last time- what did you do?”

Quackity’s expression stutters, falls, as Sapnap stands back next to Michael, the two of them between him and Dream. His eyes flick between their faces, then to Dream, then back again, frown deepening with every pass he makes between the three of them. Michael keeps his arms crossed in front of his chest, feeling his muscles tense with every second of silence that ticks by, Quackity seeming to grow more and more angry and tense under their scrutiny and unforgiving stances-

-a second passes, and he throws himself forward.

“Quackity!”

Michael only manages to throw himself out of the way of the man barrelling towards him just in time - too late, he realizes that he wasn’t Quackity’s intended target. He tackles Dream to the ground, pinning the taller man underneath himself onto the ground in a rough thump that seems to knock all the air out of him. Dream immediately begins to thrash aimlessly, jaw going slack in panic as Quackity levels his arm against his neck, going still as Quackity presses harder against his windpipe. Michael is only barely close enough to pick up what he says over the sound of the surrounding screaming, Sapnap rushing forward to pull Quackity off to no avail-

“-make what I did two weeks ago look like a fucking joke when we get back, going to make you wish you fucking died-”

The world explodes into white.

When Michael’s vision clears, he’s face to face to the stony face of one of the MCC admins, their status displayed by the proud red [Admin] by their nametags and the fact that they’re floating several inches off the fucking floor. He backs away, strangely winded - probably from the panic or adrenaline or yelling or, more accurately, all three, as Quackity is pulled back effortlessly by an admin, easily caging his flailing limbs with a snap of code as he is frozen into place - and Michael whoops.

“LET’S GO!”

(The arrow hits Michael in the shoulder, and he disappears in a flash of red - only instead of going to his usual place above the Dodgebolt arena, standing with the other competitors, he finds himself teleported in front of a dizzying array of screens and buttons, too many to have any idea where they connect and how they work. Michael turns to meet the faces of the MCC Admins, each one looking at him with odd, concerned expressions and furrowed brows.

“You shot your teammate,” one says - Noxite - and Michael nods to concede the point, not quite finding the words to speak. “Why?”

“If you had such a big issue with the teams, you could’ve just talked to Scott,” another one pipes up from the back, “I’m sure we could’ve worked something out.”

“I know, I know,” Michael runs his hand through his hair, both relieved at the plan working better than he could’ve ever fucking imagined and suddenly lost for words in front of the admins, each one looking at him with their full attention. Every nerve in his body rails against the scrutiny, reminds him to pretend that nothing is wrong - but it’s too late to pretend, now. It’s been too late for a long, long time.

He remembers Dream, looking away all competition, voice dead and lacking all of its former vitality - remembers Puffy, hair a little greyer from stress, grief painting her face whenever she thought anyone wasn’t looking - remembers Bad, hands still shaking despite his attempts to hide it - the prison, looming on the horizon, unbeatable, impenetrable - himself, helpless, for all this time, to do anything but watch and wait. Until now. He takes a deep breath, steels himself-

“Something’s wrong with Dream.”)

“Thank you for your information, Michael,” Noxite smiles at him, and relief throws itself through his system so fast that it makes him dizzy- “We’ll handle this from here. Good job.”

“Holy shit- when did you get time to contact the fucking admins, Michael?”

Michael ignores the clamor around him as the lobby bursts into activity and people talking over each other, each one probably trying to figure out what the hell just happened, ignores Sapnap muttering, awed, from beside him, to move towards Dream, still sprawled out over the floor. There’s an admin by him, standing by to seemingly keep the crowd away but not engaging with Dream directly, and Michael ducks by them to kneel down by Dream and meet his gaze.

“Hey,” Michael smiles, still shaking from the leftover adrenaline as he presses his hands to the ground to try and hide it, “We’ve got you. It’s over- Quackity’s gone. You’re safe now.”

“Michael?” Dream’s voice is so damn small when his head twists to look over, hair having fallen largely fallen out of his ponytail to land in wisps all around his face. “You- how-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Michael shushes him, chest twisting painfully. “It’s alright.”

“...I don’t feel so good.”

Dream coughs harshly, and Michael quickly maneuvers him to a sitting position as his shoulders shake with another one, hand flying to his mouth as he is wracked with loud, wet-sounding coughs. Concern wells up in his throat, watching as Dream shakes with more coughing, nearly choking as he curls into himself, muscles tense. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls his hand back, and Michael gasps at the sight.

“Dream-”

There’s blood, and a lot of it - mixed with the saliva in his palm, shiny and stringy over the planes of his hand, dribbling past his lips and down his chin. His teeth are similarly stained red when his mouth opens slightly, stance wobbling before he collapses altogether against Michael’s body - Michael can barely hear himself shouting for a medic as Dream heaves a rattling, wet sounding breath into his shoulder.

“Th’ts not g’d,” he mumbles, quiet, before going completely limp.

---

When you first get strong enough to go to the Nether and collect blaze rods and brew potions for the first time, the first thing that gets beaten into your head forwards, backwards, left, right, and every way in between is that health and regen aren’t a replacement for actual recovery. Instant health pots are famous for their tendency to heal everything affected to the same degree - which is bad when you have a particularly deep injury, as it’ll often finish healing it near the surface while the injury persists underneath. Regen pots tend to be better at that front, but even they cannot completely fix a serious injury - the two can only act as a temporary, emergency fix for severe wounds, often being an invaluable resource to stop the worst of the bleeding and hold everything together for long enough to bring someone to proper medical attention.

Unfortunately, when someone tries to use health pots and regens to completely bypass the time and rest needed for the body to properly heal itself and recover, what usually ends up happening is internal injuries - not completely healed by the potions alone - continue to be jostled and irritated, which can lead to further, worse, problems with internal bleeding and bones shifting out of place if they’ve been broken, which can then pierce through muscle and organ tissue - to be honest, Michael was never the best with all the medical stuff, and he’s half-sure that the horror stories he’s heard were exaggerated to beat it into his head never to be an idiot that thinks that potions can solve everything, but either way, he’s never tested his luck with the things.

Unfortunately, Dream doesn’t seem to have done the same, as the entire day’s worth of intense activity, between practices and MCC itself, were more than enough to fuck over the healing effects of whatever health potions he apparently downed before coming to the Championships. From what Michael has heard, it got a little harried after he was first brought into the hospital, but he’s apparently stabilized since - recovery will be slow, both physically and mentally, but at least he’s out of that damn prison to actually start on that path.

“Simply put, your teammate is a bit of an idiot,” Scott tells him when he finally catches him in the waiting room, hair fluffed up at the sides from where he’s evidently messed it up in Admin-related stress. “But he should be alright now, with proper medical attention and lots of rest - make sure to tell him to actually rest, will ya? No more parkouring for him - he can wait until after he’s out of the hospital to show us all how it’s done.”

Michael laughs, relief settling into his chest, “Thanks, Scott.” He directs a playfully accusing look towards the other, a grin tugging at his lips, “but you know, he’s only my teammate because you made it that way. Kinda sounds like your own fault there..”

“Oh, quiet, you.” Scott laughs- he looks stressed, and Michael feels a twinge of sympathy. The administrative side of things after his whole stunt at Dodgebolt, and then especially with what happened in the main lobby, must be an absolute nightmare. “Anyway, I need to go back - Admin meeting,” he shakes his head, already looking at his comm. “You should go see Dream, by the way. I think he’s awake.”

“Thanks for everything, Scott.”

Scott smiles at him, soft, sincere. “Go see your friend.”

He disappears in a flash of white light, teleporting away, and Michael looks at the empty space where he stood for a few seconds before standing up out of his chair to move towards the door. He hesitates at it for a second, hand on the doorknob but not yet turning it to the side - it’s suddenly awkward, without the pressure of the competition at his back and the relentless questions of what he should do. He doesn’t even know if Dream knows what happened, or if he’ll be happy with him - for all he knows, Dream was the one who started the whole ‘don’t tell the Championships what happens in the server’ deal. His teeth catch on his lip as he stands, lost in thought, at the door.

Well. Here goes nothing.

He eases the door open, getting a glimpse inside the room - it’s white, clean-looking, the smell of disinfectant heavy in the air. There’s a bed in the middle of the room, a chair on the side with his Championships clothing and what appears to be some sort of padded body armor laid over the cushions. Dream, as expected, is lying down in the bed, unmoving; for a second, Michael thinks he’s sleeping, before he suddenly twists his head over to look at him.

“Michael?”

“Hey,” Michael smiles, moving into the room and closing the door behind him. For the first time today, Dream’s face isn’t masked, a glimpse of it visible behind him on the dresser by the bed. He blinks up at him owlishly, eyes wide and green, looking even bigger combined with the hollow planes of his cheeks, overlaid by pale, slightly raised scars. “How are you feeling, man?”

“Um-” Dream tries to pull himself up, visibly struggling, and Michael rolls his eyes as he hurries over to help raise the back of the cot because you’re supposed to be resting, Dream, just let the fancy bed do its job, and settles back with an odd look on his face as Michael pulls over a chair. “Good? I think? I mean-” he flails his hands a bit, “this is weird. And I kind of hate this gown- but um. Yeah.”

“That’s fair,” Michael laughs, and Dream huffs a small laugh out of his own, settling back into his pillow. He looks strangely small, with all the layers stripped away, frail and skinny against the sheets. His skin isn’t that same paper-white shade it had been when he collapsed in the middle of the fucking lobby, but it’s still pale enough to be vaguely worrying, especially combined with the IV and other wires hooked up to him.

“Apparently, I’m dehydrated,” Dream drawls when he catches Michael staring at the IV, making a small, frustrated sound through his teeth as Michael turns to look at him, “figures, I guess, but still sucks. I hate needles.”

“Ouch,” Michael winces in sympathy, “yeah, those don’t look that fun.” Dream smiles up at him, before his expression shutters, dulls, and he looks away, not meeting his eyes. The sight of it makes Michael frown, quiet, remembering the way he’d drawn back from them all over and over again throughout the day - that fear and trauma won’t go away in a day, but it hurts all that much more to see his face as panic flashes across it and he pulls back, gaze carefully detached.

“Dream?” Michael moves closer, but is careful not to make contact, “you alright?”

“Hmm?” Dream directs another small, tight smile his way, strained at the corners as his eyes flick away to the floor once again, “yeah- I’m- I’m fine.”

Michael sighs, but decides not to push it. “Have you done anything else here, yet?”

Dream shakes his head. “No- I think that someone’s going to bring food over soon, I’m not sure. Not really hungry,” he mutters, half to himself, and Michael tamps down the concern that wells up in protest, “But we’ll see, I guess.”

“That’s good,” Michael nods, and Dream looks up at him, expression startlingly unsure.

“Um- do you know?” He wrings his hands together, eyes darting across the room nervously before flicking over Michaels’ face, and Michael tries to make himself look as calm and comfortable as possible, “I mean- do you know what’s going on with- everyone?”

Ah. Michael winces internally- he probably should’ve expected this question, but in the fallout of what happened in the lobby and Dream, you know, passing out in his arms, he ended up brushing off or ignoring a lot of the chaos that resulted. He wracks his head for snippets of information that he’d seen in his communicator and from visitors to the waiting room, including people that had been there with him that had been pulled for questioning and meetings, Tommy’s expletive-filled yelling from the lobby still ringing in his head.

“Um- I think that they’ve got a team of moderators pulled up to investigate the server, figure out what’s been going on,” Michael ticks names off on his hands, mentally going through the list of people that he’s been given information on, “They have Quackity in custody, I think, for the moment- they’re still waiting for more information on what to do with him, but they’ve got a whole MCC lobby’s worth of witnesses that saw him assault you so far, if you plan on pressing charges and stuff- um- Sapnap got pulled for questioning, nothing too major right now, I think that they’re going through the other server members that were attending the Championships for the moment.”

“Are they- putting them in jail?” Dream’s voice sounds slightly tinny despite his forced calm, arms crossed in front of him, and Michael shakes his head firmly.

“No- legal stuff between servers is weird, and I think they’re holding off on anything like that for now. Quackity’s just there at the moment because of assault charges on the MCC server - stuff in the SMP is still technically outside of their jurisdiction.” Dream visibly relaxes, and Michael smiles thinly, “It’ll be rough for a few weeks as they collect evidence and figure out what to do, but for now, they’re just focusing on recovery - giving people medical attention if they need it, lining up therapists,” he laughs, quietly, “lots of therapists.”

Dream hums, looking away. The corners of his mouth fall, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes a shuddery sigh through his lips.

“I- never wanted it to get this bad,” he opens his eyes, looking down at his hands, lip slightly trembling, “I don’t- I don’t know where it all went wrong.”

“Hey,” Michael slides closer, ducking to meet Dream’s eyes with a soft smile. “You’re not alone anymore, alright? You don’t have to fix it all by yourself. Focus on yourself, on recovering.”

Dream hesitates, breath seeming caught in his throat, wide green eyes staring into Michael’s own, before ducking his head to look away with a slight nod. Michael leans back in his chair, watching as Dream turns to the side, curling in on himself slightly with a small wince, eyes fixed on the window.

“Didn’t think I was going to see the sun again,” Dream says after a while, gaze still trained behind the glass to where the sun is slowly setting, rays of sunlight streaming past the slits in the blinds and casting glowing stripes of honey-gold throughout the room and over Dream’s face. Michael feels something cold press against the back of his throat, the quiet admission making air stutter in his lungs at the image of Dream, alone, huddled in the middle of an obsidian box for months and months and months, never knowing if he’d see anything other than the same black walls for the rest of his life.

“You’re not there, anymore. You’re safe now.”

Dream doesn’t reply, continuing to look out the window silently, breathing slowly as he moves his hand through a sunbeam, watching the way it streams between his fingers and warms his skin, seeming mesmerized by its soft glow.

“Michael?” Dream looks over, and Michael feels the air punched out of his lungs at the soft, disbelieving sincerity held within his expression, the fearful edges for once pulled back far enough for the light to catch the quiet, heartfelt appreciation gathered in the slight quirk of his lips and downward slope of his eyes. He looks away a second after, a band of light cutting across his face and landing over the bridge of his nose, smile still on his face, voice almost too quiet to make out. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Michael feels his own smile widen, looking out the window himself- it really is a beautiful sunset. “What are friends for?”

#-> my writing #my writing :D #c!Quackity critical #tw trauma #tw abuse #tw torture #tw panic attack #tw manipulation #tw gaslighting #tw needles #tw hospitals #tw emotional distress #pandora's vault #prison arc #god this was so fun #hope you all enjoy !!#long post

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baecvlt · 3 years

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Oh my gosh! I love Kazuichi!!

Can I request a Kazuichi x female reader where she's a quiet nerd who spends a lot of time studying so she doesn't really have many friends but one day she's extremely stressed out for an exam and she asks Kaz straight up "Fuck me like an animal" just to relieve the tension.

(so kinda rough, feral, lots of dirty talk from Kaz if that's possible please ❤️)

Kazuichi x Quiet Reader

a/n: i love this idea sm i will be projecting onto this

“Hey, thanks for helping me study, it means a lot, really”

“Of course. What are friends for?”

There was a pause as you picked up your pen and began writing in your notepad. “Hey, me and the boys are gonna go out Friday night and they’re all bringing their girlfriends”

You finished jotting down a note in your notepad, clicking your pen. “Yeah? Sounds like fun”. Then, another pause. “So I was kinda wondering if you wanted to come with me, y’know so I don’t look like a complete and fucking loner”. You sighed softly, running your hand through your hair. “I’ll think about it,” you answered, only for Kazuichi Soda (your college friend) to call your bluff. “But that’s what you always say, I’d prefer you say ‘no’ straight up!”. He was right, but that wasn’t gonna change your mind.

“You know I don’t do well around people, you’re one of the only few people I feel comfortable around. I’m sorry”

He shook his head. “No, don’t be. I’ll figure it out, thanks anyway”.

He walked away, not looking back. Part of you felt bad, but you didn’t want to put yourself in this situation where you had to endure being around people you had no business being around. It’s not that you don’t like them, but you never seemed to click. You packed your things an hour later, deciding that regardless of the fact you didn’t do enough, it was getting late and you were sleepy. Upon leaving the library, you noticed Kazuichi was still outside, now by his truck (that used to belong to his uncle because that’s totally worth noting). He waved at you, you waved back and approached him.

“What are you still doing here? Thought you had to be home?”

“I don’t live there no more. I’m rooming with Hajime!”

“That’s great, but why are you still here?”

“I came to take you home!”

You raised a brow, he hardly does that. Why now? Especially, why after you denied accompanying him? “You look so sleepy,” he said softly,“It’d make things easier on ya”. You smiled, rolling your eyes. “Alright,” you said. He became giddy, taking tiny, but quick steps to you door. He opened it for you, then got to the driver’s seat. Now, you were off.

He played soft classic rock on the radio, volume low. He was right, you were sleepy. You leaned your head against the window, looking out of it: the sun was setting and the closer you got home, the darker it became. Finally, the sun was down, stars in the night sky. Then, you didn’t remember much else. Blackout.

“Hey, princess—”

You felt cold against your cheek, wincing a little. The cold turned warm, as your eyes fluttered open. The blur cleared and there was Kazuichi. “You must’ve really been sleepy, huh?,” he teased,“Well, we’re here now”. You looked around, seeing the familiar parking lot of your apartment complex. “How long was I out?,” you asked, still familiarizing yourself with your surroundings. “Maybe ten minutes,” he said,“I think I’m gonna take you home from now on. Pretty long walk, don’t cha think?”.

“I don’t get paid well, I don’t want to burden you on gas money—”

“It’s no burden. It’d be so cool to take my favorite chick home”

You blushed, smiling softly. “Let me walk you up, yeah?,” he asked, getting off the car. He wasn’t about to take ‘no’ for an answer. It was dark, anything could happen going up. I mean, it’s not like Kazuichi has that much fight in him (worst case scenario), but hey, it’s the thought that counts. He took you up the 3 flights of stairs as you told him about your studious day of reading books, taking notes, citing sources—boring shit. All he could do was grin and say,“Damnit, you’re so smart”. You shook your head, snickering.

“Shut up”

“No, seriously. You could be a doctor or lawyer if you wanted to. Something smart, ya know?”

“I guess”

You stopped, letting him know this was your door. “Nice”. You grabbed your key, opening the door slowly. “Alright, well, thanks,” you smiled,“It means a lot that you’re offering to take me, y’know. It gets dark and stuff and I’m always so tired so that just means a lot—”. As you ranted, he wasn’t smiling anymore. His eyes, they just remained fixated on your lips, but you couldn’t have known. You were in your own little world.

“—and don’t worry! I’ll find a way to repay you. I can’t let you do this completely free, even if we are friends, because that’s what we are right? Hey, are you even liste-”

Suddenly, he raised his hands to both sides of your jaw, pulling you in and kissing you. He pulled away, still close to your lips as he whispered,“I’ve always wanted this”. His hands remained on your face, now caressing your cheeks. “I know I’m not that kind of guy that can be smooth and pick up girls, but you’re so sweet to me. I’d do anything for you,” he whispered still,“And you work so hard, you’re so amazing...I just want to make you feel so good”. Just as you were about to speak, his thumb pressed gently against your lips.

“Don’t say anything, Just...if you ever need me, Imma be here”

“Yeah and do what?”

“Leave you shaking a little”

He walked away, leaving you almost on your knees. Almost. “Goodnight, princess,” he said. You said ‘goodnight’, now running back into your house. You nearly squealed and your face burned as you held a pillow. Why did he do that? Why to you? Was he okay?

That didn’t matter. You weren’t upset about it either.

The next day, you walked outside pf your complex, seeing him outside. “Hey, you!,” he said running up to you,“I’m so sorry about yesterday. I don’t know what got into me and—”. You shrugged his apology off. “Don’t even worry about it,” you said,“it’s all good”. He smiled, opening the door for you.

Kazuichi and you decided he would be taking you to school and home, so that was a great thing that happened today. Last night’s incident wasn’t discussed, although you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Later that day, you found yourself still studying and studying for that test. When Kazuichi, came to you to study, you seemed a little aggravated. “Hey, I’m here for our hour together,” he said. “Okay, just sit down and let me know if you need anything,” you told him. He noticed your tone, it was irritated and tired. As he opened his book and took some noted down, he look at you. You had very noticeable tics (hard blinking) and your hands kept rubbing your temples. It wasn’t until he heard you sigh that he asked,“Hey, are you doing okay?”.

“Yeah, I’m just...—”

You were terribly stressed, you knew that. You looked him up and down,“I need to get something in the archives”. You left him there, but all he could do was follow you. Once there, you saw him head inside,“I don’t like seeing you like this. I think I should take you—”. You closed the door as he spoke, dropping to your knees in front of him. “H-Hey, what are you?-”.

“I’m so stressed, Kaz”

His bulge grew in his jeans, just to see you like that made him hard. You took your right hand, softly palming his growing erection. “Oh— fuck, I~,” he sputtered. “Fuck me like an animal, Kaz,” you whined softly,“Make me feel good”. You pushed him back onto the nearby table where he sat, but propped himself up. He unzipped his jeans and pulled his cock out. He stroked himself a little with one hand as he told told you to “come here” with the other. You got got closer to him, but he didn’t give you time. He sprung out of his seat and got on his knees. He pulled down your skirt and panties, making you squeak. Grabbing your hips, he pushed you back and made you land on the table. As soon as your bare skin touched the cool table, he used his mouth on your dripping cunt. “Ngh!~ Kaz, no! S-Stop,” you whined.

“Mmm, but you taste so sweet”

His hands reached up to rub your trembling thighs as you gripped his hair. “Such a pretty pussy,” he whispered,”so wet too”. His tongue moved from your clit, bow thrusting inside you. His tongue was long, sometimes when you’d hang out, you wondered how it’d feel to have him eat you out, always cursing yourself for it, but bow he was here, tongue fucking your pussy and thrusting it in and out of you. “Kaz...”.

You were wet and close to cumming as he pulled out his tongue, simply placing kisses along your pussy. “So pretty,” he muttered, thumbing your clit. He got up, positioning himself between your legs. He rubbed his cock between your folds. You groaned, feeling his cock play with your warmth. “How do you want this?,” he asked. “This is okay, just please I need you inside me”. He snickered, ramming his cock right into you. You gasped as he kept his pace fast, stroked rhythmic. His tight and painful grip on your hips stopped hurting, your skin easing into his touch. He wasn’t just holding them, though. He was pulling you by them, making sure his cock ruined your insides. “I’m gonna rip you in half,” he spat, tearing your button-up open. You had subconsciously planned this, that’s for sure. You just realized you wore this bra that hooked from the front. “Tits...”, he mumbled, unclipping the front. Your bra burst open, your breasts having some recoil from his thrusts. “God, your face, your fucking face,” he groaned,“When I look at you, I just want to stuff my cock, deeper and deeper in you”. Each time he said ‘deeper’, he thrust hard with his hand on your throat. It was easy to see how little experience he had, he wanted to try everything all at once. You weren’t complaining because everything he was doing just fucking worked. Your eyes rolled back as you covered your mouth to muffle your moans. He took your hand off, but now you were noticing how flushed his face was. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” he grunted, cumming inside you,“I can’t stop, I’m still so fucking hard”.

“Don’t stop, Kaz”

He leaned forward, kissing you softly. You whined against his mouth as you felt his cold hands pinching and rubbing your nipples just right, keeping you in this deep state of arousal. He tried keeping his composure as his only goal now was to make you cum. Watching you cum is something he’s always wanted. Now you’re here, in the backrooms of the school library with him, your cunt sloppy on his cock. “Oh, g-god, you’re so pretty,” he choked out,“Y-Your face remains...angelic as I ruin your— Ah!”. He trailed a butterfly kiss from your lips to your jaw to your neck as he life your leg up, wrecking your uterus at this point. “Ah!~ T-Too deep, too deep!,” you cried. “I know,” he whispered. You felt your orgasm rattle through your body, but before you could cum, you wrapped his legs around you. “H-Hey!-”. You had gotten the best of him.

“Fuck, I-I’m cumming!”

You came along his cock nicely, your spreading warmth making him ejaculate once more inside you. He pulled out slow, watching his cum drip from your hole. Once he got a view of that, he collapsed onto your chest. He pecked your jaw a little, nuzzling you after. “I came too quick, didnt I?,” he asked, insecure about his sexual performance. “No, you went long enough,” your reassured him,“Christ, my legs feel so funny”. He was now concerned.

“Did I hurt you?”

“You were a little too rough”

“I-I’m sorry. I guess I got a little carried away. You’re just so fucking hot”

You kissed him, hoping it’d shut him up. “Don’t say that..just, com on. Help me get dressed”.

He helped you but your panties and skirt back on, handing you his jacket to deal with the ripped shirt issue. He was being cute and slipped your flats back onto your feet. Quickly, you grabbed your school bags from outside and left the library. He took you home, his hand on your thigh the entire way back. You didn’t hate it, though. In fact, when he took it off and apologized for it, you put it back. He smiled, eyes back on the road.

He took you upstairs, this time you decided to invite him in. Now, you were both in bed. He lay on your stomach, caressing your thigh. He suddenly gasped, with a hand on your stomach. “I felt a kick!,” he joked. You rolled your eyes, hitting him with a nearby plush. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you the pill tomorrow,” he assured. “I should shower,” you noted,“You wanna join?”. He became flustered, giving you a look as to ask if you were serious. “Uh, yeah,” he muttered.

“Not right now, though. I’m still a little tired”

“About that, did it help at all with the stress?”

“Sure did”

He smiled, becoming shy,“I didn’t think we’d ever...y’know..”. You kissed him all over his face, making him smile. “Hey, I kinda decided,” you began,“I decided I’ll go with you. As your girlfriend”. He looked at you wide eyed. “Really?!”.

“Yeah”

“I love you— no, wait, I’m sorry-”

“You are so cute”

He blushed, muttering,“Let’s just go take that shower”.

#danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #fanfic #send asks #send requests #smut #kazuichi x reader smut #kazuichi smut #kazuichi imagine #kazuichi headcanons #kazuichi x reader #kazuichi souda x reader #kazuichi soda x reader #kazuichi #kazuichi danganronpa #kazuichi soda

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cc-writesfor2dcharacters · 3 years

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Hi how are you doing? Can I request Yuji, Megumi, Inumaki, Gojo and Nanami ( if it's too much you can reduce to whatever boys you prefer ) reacting to their ( gender-neutral or a female ) s/o's cursed techniques similar to magical girl. Like they need to transform, their attack are very cutesy, and etc. Sorry and it's okay if you can't do it or my request is confusing.

A/N: Sure! This one was kinda challenging to write since I haven't watched any magical girl anime for so long and it was hard to describe how will they transform. But, I hope you enjoy and like this one! <33 Cheers to my first request!!!

Here are the JJK boys reacting to their S/O who has a cursed technique similar to a magical girl:

Itadori Yuji

Oh, this boy was in awe, I swear. He literally had heart eyes when he first saw your technique. He stood there, frozen, as he watched you transform into like a goddess he usually sees in fantasy comics and anime he watches. The necklace you have is the one that activates your technique. After he blinked, you were already in this pretty ballerina form and you were glowing like a real goddess. You approached the cursed spirit as fast as you could so you could get momentum. You channeled your cursed energy into your right foot and kicked the cursed spirit, causing it to fly away due to the heavy impact of both your cursed energy and the technique. And, when you blew a kiss to that grade 1 cursed spirit, bubbles were sent throughout the area. Yuji gasped in admiration for you. He thought, “How could someone as cute as Y/N be this strong?” as your bubbles trapped the grade 1 cursed spirit. Yuji forgot that you guys were fighting two grade 1 cursed spirits. And, the one he was supposed to beat attacked him from behind. He had let his guard down and was on the defense side as he was avoiding the cursed spirit’s attack. But, he was still checking out on you, and he pouted thinking how that costume is actually not fit for fighting. Sukuna had to eventually wake Yuji up from his daydream. “Brat! Stop looking at your girl’s ass and focus. If you die, I die.” But, when he was about to finish that cursed spirit off, you already did the work for him. He was trying to cheer you up since your technique wears off the energy in your body. So, you were immediately exhausted after that fight. On the train, as you were sleeping on his shoulder, he took your hand and compared it to his. He caressed your hair and kissed your forehead. He whispered to you, “Oh, Y/N, your technique made me realized I should be more protective around you. You’re still fragile, but I’ll be here for you every step of the way.” And Sukuna had to interrupt his moment and laughed, “Brat, it’s a matter of time until that girl surpasses you. She’s hot and will become stronger. Ha! Never seen that technique in my years. So, watch out for your girl.” Yuji had to slap the side of his face to make him shut up. Every now and then, when you two have a mission, he secretly wishes you’ll activate your technique. But, you learned your lesson not to since he gets distracted.

Fushiguro Megumi

You were aware that Megumi wanted to see you transform and use your technique when you heard Nobara talk about how cool you looked. So, that’s why on your mission, he asked if you could bring your sword since you two will be fighting plenty of low-grade cursed spirits. He said he wanted to finish the mission as soon as he could, but he just wanted to see what Nobara saw. When you two got to the place, you two were not aware that a grade 1 cursed spirit would be here. He released his Nue to fend off the lower grade cursed spirits. You knew you two were in trouble, that’s why, you did the stance to activate your technique, your katana in front of your face as you held it tightly, and a strong wind blew throughout the area causing the grade 1 cursed spirit to be pushed back a little. As soon as Megumi’s attention turned to you, his eyes widened to see you with wings, and your skirt became shorter. You knew where he was looking, and this boy forgot about the shikigami he released. He wants this to be finished now, so you did it for him. You ran to the cursed spirit, and with your katana bursting with cursed energy alongside the wind you collected, you easily took off the cursed spirit’s head, causing it to disintegrate into thin air. When you came down from the air, you didn’t know what was going on in his head. “An angel.” You gulped as you heard those words from him. He didn’t realize that he said his thoughts out loud, so he felt kind of shy at the moment. It was loud enough for you to hear, causing you to blush. You helped him get up from the ground and he wiped off his butt. “Thank you for saving me, Y/N. I-I was distracted.” He shyly looked away from you, as a blush crept on his face. “Come on, I’ve been wanting to take you out on a date that’s why I wanted to finish this quickly.” All of a sudden, he grabbed your hand as you started to walk off. He’s a man of few words and wasn’t a fan of PDA. But, he’s been like this ever since he saw your technique. He told you that he was both terrified and in love with you. And, that’s probably one of the best compliments you’ve gotten from him so far.

Inumaki Toge

He was assigned to accompany you on your promotion mission. He knew about the technique you have, which is why you were recommended by Mei-Mei to become a grade 2 sorcerer. He wished you good luck by giving you a thumbs up and a light pat on the head. It was his way of telling you that he’ll be looking out for you in case you struggle. The cursed spirit was fast, and you could feel its bloodlust. You didn’t hesitate to activate your technique. It was rushing towards you, so you immediately took out the device you use in order to activate my technique. You imbued the device with a fair amount of cursed energy, enough to defeat this cursed spirit. It was taking its time to activate, and you caught a glimpse of Inumaki unzipping the zipper that covered his mouth. But, you wanted to prove to him that you’re worthy to be a grade 2 sorcerer. And, right in time, the device sent a blinding light causing both Inumaki and the cursed spirit to flinch. You were transformed with fairy wings, and a sparkly dress. He accidentally said, “Wow.” and he was caught off guard. Your eyes widened in surprise to hear him use his voice not for techniques or for his safe words. He alerted you and screamed, “Behind you!” You pointed the light to the cursed spirit, red lights in the form of little hearts came out. The light pierced the cursed spirit’s body with small holes. To finish it off, you slowly flapped your wings to send off beautiful but poisonous dust. And, the cursed energy within you bursts even more as the cursed spirit still wouldn’t die. When you eventually finished it off, you fell to the ground, breathless. You’ve never wasted your cursed energy that much before. It’s just that a part of you wanted to prove to your boyfriend that you can be relied on. He ran towards you and cupped your face. Using his free hand, he did a sign language which translated into You did really well, Y/N. I’m proud of you, remember that. You’re so strong and beautiful. I love you. Tears almost fell out of your eyes as he appreciated you. You hugged him and he hugged you back even tighter. He noticed that your wings were starting to fade and accidentally spoke again and said, “No!” He adorably pouted at you, and you comforted him. “You really liked my technique, huh? Even if I wanted to show you, it might hurt you.” He did another sign language which translated to You were so cute. I just want to wrap you in my arms. You smiled so widely and stood up. You helped him get up, “Then let’s go back and cuddle.” He has never been that excited before.

Gojo Satoru

He was being a little bit of an asshole to you when he found out about your technique. Being born from a family of sorcerers, who secluded themselves from the jujutsu world, he instantly fell in love with you when you two first met. And he was the first one outside of your family to know of your technique. But, the two of you are in for a mission, well it was a solo mission for you, but he tagged along just to see you use your technique over and over again. There have been numerous grade 3 and 4 cursed spirits running around. When you two arrived at the place, you were both shocked to see almost 50 of them, who varied in size, speed, and strength. You were a little scared, and when you were about to back down, Gojo held your back to stop you from going backward and said, “Show me that technique as beautiful as you.” You don’t know what he did to you, but you immediately obeyed. That’s when he stepped back and put his hands in his pocket. He even sat down and had his chin resting on his palm as he watched you. It’s always fun for him to see you and your technique, it was like a show. You snapped your fingers two times to make you transform. Darkness started to envelop the sky, and you knew so well that Gojo is smirking as he will see you in a cute short skirt, and a golden corset. When the darkness faded, you raised your hand like you were pointing a gun in the sky. That’s when you sent lightning on every cursed spirit there was, and electrocuted them. He started to activate his infinity so your lightning wouldn't affect him. His jaw dropped (the picture is the reference) as he stared at you and watched the cursed spirit struggle from your lightning. This is always a pleasant sight for Gojo to watch. There were no people other than him who pointed their hands like a gun to use their technique. It fascinates him and makes him love you even more. It ended sooner than you expected. You were about to remove your technique and Gojo stopped you. “No can do, baby girl. You finished your mission in the blink of an eye, and I haven’t fully enjoyed you in this cute get-up.” He whined as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “You’re always so cool to watch.” He complimented you. It was rare to hear that coming from the "Strongest". But, with you he will shower you with every compliment there is in the world. The reason for that is to see you smile, and well, to persuade you to use your technique later so he could fanboy on his own girlfriend.

Nanami Kento

He was always calm and collected, but he couldn't stop thinking about the first time he saw you use your technique. When you transformed into somewhat of a cat, with cat ears and tail, and you were sparkling like the stars. He thought that you were the cutest human being there is to exist. That technique gives you speed and great mobility. Your nails become like claws and it can rip apart a cursed spirit in an instant. Like Yuji, he was in awe but was still aware of other lower grade cursed spirits lingering around the vicinity. He killed all the cursed spirits so easily just to check if you were still in your cat form. Lucky for him, he saw you scratched the grade 2 cursed spirit from its head all the way to its feet. You perfectly controlled your cursed energy, and the big cursed spirit was killed in an instant. He thought, "Y/N's so cute but that technique's dangerous." He noticed that you were limping a little bit, but that was when you sprained your ankle from jumping too high. He thought it was a casualty from your technique, and that made him worry about you. "Next time don't use your technique, love. It hurts you." He said with his tone filled with worry for you. You laughed at him and replied, "Kento, I jumped too high and landed badly. So, it was my fault, not my technique." He fixed his glasses as he looked away from you. He was trying to hide as you noticed that he blushed a little. "I see. Then, can you use that again so I can see?" He shyly asked and that made you laugh even more. "And why do you want to see it?" You mischievously smiled at him as you crossed your arms. "Because it was cute. But, you're beautiful even in your human form." He flatly answered, but the blush on his face didn't fade. "You're cute when you're flustered like this." You spent the night teasing him about what happened. And, starting from that day, he always argues with Gojo to have him go with you on your mission. He just makes the "It's too dangerous for her" excuse. But, Gojo knows how cute you really are when using that technique, and Kento's just being a protective boyfriend. Up to this day, he won’t admit how he falls in love with you, even more, when he sees you transform.

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marvelhero-fics · 3 years

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Snowman

Series - Chapter One

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re a HYDRA assassin that’s worked closely with the Winter Soldier, to each of your dismay you’re reunited with Bucky after the blip.

A/N: I haven’t posted in like 300 years, but I hope you guys enjoy this new series! This follows parts of TFATWS so expect spoilers! (Also I’m sure all the Russian is absolutely wrong, if you’d like to correct it please send me a message!)

Word Count: 1,815 (future chapters will be wayyy longer)

Snowman Masterlist || Full Masterlist

New York

2023

“So tell me about this-” the therapist looked down at her notes briefly, “(Y/N).” She finished.

Bucky paused momentarily, “No.”

“James, for these therapy sessions to be effective, you need to open up to me. I can’t help you if I don't know what’s wrong.” His therapist responded, laying her pen carefully on her small notebook.

Bucky thought for a moment, taking in the ambience of the room. What would he even say about (Y/N)? He hadn’t seen her in years. Bucky was kicking himself for accidentally bringing her up in his session last week. “I- uh-” he stammered, shifting his weight on the couch, “I met her in 2011. At least I think it was 2011. Date’s get kinda fuzzy sometimes, with all the cryo.” Bucky’s hand pressed against his head, feeling dazed as he tried to think back. “It was at the big HYDRA base outside of Moscow. We had to go on a mission together-” he was cut off,

“Did she work for HYDRA?” Dr Raynor interjected.

“Yea. She was an assassin too. She went by the alias the Viper.” Bucky pretended not to notice his therapist tense up. Anyone who knew anything about HYDRA knew who the Viper was. She was one of the most prolific assassins after the Winter Soldier.

“Tell me more about when you met her.”

“We were instructed to take out a terrorist organisation forming against SHIELD. Which was ironic because we were working for a terrorist organisation. But at this point SHIELD was being run by HYDRA and they couldn’t risk any slip ups, so they put 6 assassins on the job. HYDRA usually didn’t have their assassins working together, we were all too volatile. But we had to take out over 70 people in one night. It was (Y/N), a few assassins from the Red Room, and a few agents that HYDRA had trained personally, and me.” Bucky stopped.

“Where was (Y/N) trained?”

“At a secondary facility run by HYDRA. She was trained from a really young age. It’s all she’s known.” Bucky seemed somber. But his therapist continued,

“What happened on the mission?”

“Nothing. It went exactly to plan. The targets were taken out and we all left without a trace. But (Y/N), she- she kept trying to talk to me, or get to know me. I was the Winter Soldier. No one in their right mind ever tried to ‘get to know me’.”

“Why do you think (Y/N) did that?”

“She told me she was bored.” He replied bluntly.

Moscow

2011

The poorly lit conference room was filled with a myriad of assassins and officials. The only illumination came from old LED lights hanging from the concrete ceiling. The mossy green paint on the walls looked as if it hadn’t been patched up in years. The only new-ish part of the room was the large, oak conference table, surrounded by black, leather seating. It was difficult not to notice the red HYDRA symbol holding a spot on almost every piece of clothing in the area.

“TITAN terroristicheskaya organizatsiya, formiruyushchayasya protiv nas. (TITAN is a terrorist organisation forming against us.)” Kuznetsov spoke, “Izbrannyye budut otpravleny segodnya vecherom v Ukrainu dlya vypolneniya postavlennoy zadachi. Uberi ikh. (The chosen ones will be sent to Ukraine tonight to complete their given tasks. Take them out.)”

That was all it took. You stared at the file in front of you. You had read through it multiple times, going over every single name, every single skill set your targets had. You were more than certain you could complete this job on your own. But you had no choice on the matter.

Your eyes darted around, taking in the faces of the assassins that were to accompany you on your mission. Two youthful females, dressed in black leather sat next to each other. The older, grimacing woman behind them was Madame B., the head supervisor of the Red Room. You moved your gaze to the two agents in dark green uniforms and red, soviet berets. Neither looked particularly menacing.

You finally landed on the last assassin. His dark hair fell like curtains around his face. Gloomy blue eyes searched their way through the room. His sharp jaw seemed tense through his stubbled cheeks. He was large, extremely built. Covering his frame was an amplitude of black clothing and gear.

“Play nice.” Your mentor spoke softly over your shoulder, breaking you from your train of thought.

“I always do.”

Your padded snow boots ripped through the thick snow covering the ground. The six of you had hiked your way to the set point on your GPS systems, the clouds of snowfall covering your vision held the illusion that there were absolutely no structures nearby. A large helicopter had dropped the group a few miles out from the hideout to ensure nothing was compromised. The trek was in utter silence, fighting against the harsh temperature in mid February.

The waypoint became closer on your map, a tiny building slowly appeared in your vision against the foggy downfall. It was a small, wooden cabin. Everyone hustled their way through the unlocked door. It was barren, it held no furniture, no blankets, no means of any life. There appeared to be a few doors that led to small, empty rooms. The entrance only held a small fireplace, filled with old cut down logs that had been eaten by bugs.

The group quickly dispersed, you headed to one of the rooms alone, throwing down your belongings onto the floor. The bag you carried was mainly filled with weapons and ammunition, along with a very warm sleeping bag. You knew too well you wouldn’t be sleeping tonight, but you would need the extra heat for now.

There was no chatter anywhere in the house. Your mission would begin in 6 hours. Everyone was likely putting together their artillery. You decided to cozy up in your navy sleeping bag for a moment of comfort.

Someone had lit the fire in the lounge. A warm, orange light crept through the cracks in your door. The ambiance was strangely calming for a shitty cabin in the middle of nowhere.

Snow continued to fall against the tiny glass pane of your room. You weren’t a fan of assassinating in the snow. It was low vision, harsher climates, and it lessened the ability to move. Snakes weren’t creatures of the cold. Conveniently you’d been grouped with someone who called himself ‘The Winter Soldier’. I’m sure he loves the cold, you thought.

You’d heard a lot about him. Everyone had. He was the perfect assassin. He never failed a mission, his body didn’t reject cryo, every form of enhancement HYDRA had used on him had been a success. He was what every assassin had aspired to be.

Without thought, you grabbed the glass bottle laying next to you and walked off to the room the Winter Soldier had claimed for the night.

“Privet (Hello)”. You announced, pushing his door open with a creak. His head didn’t turn towards you. He sat on the floor, the sound coming from him indicated he was sharpening knives.

“Khochesh' vypit'? (Want a drink?)” You asked, motioning the bottle towards him.

He stayed silent for a moment. Finally he turned, looking up at you from his position on the floor. “What is it?” His dark tone asked back. The amber light from the fire crashed against his features. His strong jaw was covered with a dark stubble, his brunette hair tucked behind his ears. His most obvious feature was the hauntingly blue eyes that sat in sunken sockets, he looked drained.

“It’s vodka.” You stated, honestly. You were surprised to hear he wasn’t Russian, he sounded… American?

“You’re drinking before a mission?” He queried.

You shrugged. “Alcohol doesn’t freeze.” You sat down next to him. “Plus it takes the edge off.” A faint clinking noise announced as you placed the bottle on the floor between you two. He stared at you for a moment, before quietly going back to his knives.

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You interrupted the silence.

“No.”

“What about truth or dare?”

“I’m not 14.” the soldier replied, his eyes not leaving his handy work.

“How old are you?” You shot back,

“Why are you trying to get to know me?” He dodged your question.

“I’m bored.” You shrugged, taking a deep swig of the vodka. “And by my calculations,” you peered down at your watch, “we still have 3 hours and 27 minutes until the mission starts.”

He gave a shallow sigh, “93.”

“What?”

“I’m 93. How old are you.”

“93?! You were born in 1917?”

“Mhm. How old are you.”

“25. You look great for 93.” You chuckled.

“You look old for 25.” He jabbed back. His knife sharpener still grinding across a 6 inch blade.

“You flatter me.” You replied sarcastically. “So what’s your story? How’d you make it to 93?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Why would I ask if I didn’t want to know?”

Bucky looked over at you. “I’m telling you, you don’t want to know.”

“C’mon old man, I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.” You smirked. He once again, went back to his knives. It almost seemed as if he was trying to threaten you, pulling out larger knife after larger knife.

You huffed, opening your mouth to speak, “I was born in Hungary to a drug abusing mother, and an absent father. I was kidnapped and sold to HYDRA when I was 6. I was placed under the care of the Kraken. Not sure if you’ve met him, he’s this large guy-”

“I’ve met him.” Bucky stated, interrupting your spiel.

“Right, well, he trained me for years. Eventually HYDRA got involved again and I was tested on, experimented on, messed with, ya’ know, all that fun stuff.” You explained.

“Are you enhanced?” Bucky asked, almost as if he was actually interested.

“Yea. I have this whole snake venom trick. It’s great for up close combat. The experiments really should’ve killed me though. But maybe that’s what makes us so good-” Bucky looked over at the woman next to him, her bright eyes stared back at him as she spoke “ya’ know, the best assassins are the ones living off borrowed time. Because we’ve met death before, so we’re not afraid to do it again.”

Bucky quickly grabbed the Barrett M82 rifle next to him, his metal arm making faint whirring noises. “I’m going to scope out the base.” He stated bluntly. And with that, his large black boots walked him out the bedroom, and out the door.

You let out a faint sigh, creeping back to your room to sort out your weapons. You were sure it was something you said that scared him off. I guess at 93 you have to be living off too much borrowed time, you speculated. You absentmindedly set up your pistols, your mind not being able to wander from the Winter Soldier. Maybe annoying the Red Room girls would get your mind off it.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes fic #Bucky imagine #bucky oneshot #bucky series #bucky barnes series #bucky #Bucky barnes #the avengers #tfatws #the winter solider #the winter solider x reader #the winter solider fanfic

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popopretty · 3 years

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Storm Bringer Spoilers (6)

One of my favorite scenes where Port Mafia went all out on Verlaine in CODE;4. I like this part because it introduced a lot of Port Mafia’s skill users that have never appeared in both the manga and the other novels. It was so fun to read.

Dazai made some interesting statements and theories here too. I like the dialogue at the end, where he kinda slipped and let out some of his real emotions.

PS: I can’t believe I actually typed out 5000 words! I was drafting this on my phone so I didn’t notice the actual amount of words. I know it’s not gonna be perfect and I am gonna make mistakes and I will want to punch myself so much but gosh, I am so proud of myself now!

...

The train driver put one hand on the handle, his eyes staring at the darkness in front of him.

Twenty-seven years of service. He is a veteran. He has held this handle through rains and winds, through the Great War where the bombs poured down like rain, messing up the landform.

Even for him, today’s job is unusual.

The train company he works for was bought out overnight. Together with the trains and the service schedules. Then he was ordered to operate a temporary ride. Yet there is only one passenger on this train. Even when he protested to his boss, what he got was only “stop questioning and just drive.” And then one more thing, “If you run away, it will be even worse.”

The driver took another look at the scenery in front of him. The trees have sunk into the darkness. All he could see were the silver railroad tracks and the yellow headlight. Those are the only guidelines to tell where the train is heading.

What his boss said might actually be true. Putting other cities aside, this is the unorthodox Yokohama. Anything can happen. Even if there is only one passenger, he has no intention to talk to them. If he does so, he might end up having to catch his cut off head with his chest. _

At that moment, from the eternal darkness of the night that looks no different from the bottom of the ocean, he felt something moving.

His well-trained eyes managed to capture it from the distance. Is that an animal? No. Is it just the trees rustling? No.

That’s a person.

A person is standing on the track.

He pulled the break even before his brain went ”Oh no”.

The compressed air was released, and the train’s speed reducer made a violent metallic noise. But it was too late. The train bumped straight into that human figure.

However, that figure took the train’s hit. A tremendous force was applied on the train. The first car jumped forward. It was like they were being pulled, the rear cars also jumped off, derailed, rolling over into the woods. Like a rampaging huge iron snake, the train hollowed out a big area around it, knocked down a bunch of trees, before finally stopping.

The person who witnessed the whole event, Verlaine, smiled with satisfaction. He took the train head-on but suffered no scratches. He started walking. Towards the car with Mori Ougai. Jumping over the cars half-buried underground, getting through the cars whose electric system were starting to catch fire, he reached his target.

Mori Ougai was lying face-down. The train was fully flipped sideway, the walls become the floors and the ceilings became the walls. He was facing away from Verlaine, not moving an inch. From beneath his body, a pool of blood is slowly spreading.

He did investigate the target’s skill in advanced. It’s not the kind of secret that a formal spy like him cannot find out. Mori Ougai does not possess a skill that can withstand such an impact.

“Too easy.”

Verlaine muttered and approached his target. He is not as stupid to walk away without confirming if his target is really dead or not. He is going to check and if by some rare chances the target is still alive, he will finish them off for real.

Verlaine flipped Mori Ougai’s body over. Then his eyes opened wide.

That was not Mori Ougai.

That was a man he had never seen. He was wearing a wig and clothes to disguise as Mori Ougai. But Verlaine’s assassination preparation was thorough. He had set up a hidden surveillance device in the last station. And the images taken from there were definitely Mori Ougai’s.

When he grabbed the man trying to confirm his identity, suddenly a hand was put on his chest.

“Too easy.”

A powerful repulsive force coming from a skill blew Verlaine away. He flew through the glass windows and landed on the humus soil outside. He rolled further while scattering the soil, and hit his back against a tree before finally stopping.

”... Not bad.”

Verlaine push his hand on the tree to stand up.

He brushed off the dirt from his clothes and started thinking. The face he saw at that moment moment, the repulsive force coming from his palm. That was probably one of Port Mafia’s constituent members, the one who with the repulsion skill, Hirotsu Ryurou.

A double!

They knew about the hidden device and let Mori Ougai’s image captured on purpose, then quickly switched the double in. In other words, Verlaine’s assassination plan was seen through. Ever since he came to this country, he only knew one person who has the ability to outsmart him with such finesse.

“Hello, Verlaine-san.” A small was sitting on the edge of a car, on top of the overturned train.

“Dazai-kun”, Verlaine said as he picked up the hat that had fallen to his feet. “I have heard the saying that age doesn’t matter when it comes to talent, but you are really frightening.”

“You are just bad.” Dazai said with a dry voice as though he was lecturing Verlaine. “This time you acted on your personal feelings too much. When you are like that, I can read all your moves. Why are you so obsessed with Chuuya?”

“Is it that strange for someone to be concerned about his brother?”, Verlaine said as he dusted the mud off his clothes.

“It is, a lot.” Dazai affirmed. “First of all, what made you believe so firmly that Chuuya was your brother?”

“What?” Verlaine narrowed his eyes.

“You saw that too, right? Chuuya’s original experimental body. Turned into bones and died.” Dazai spoke while swinging his legs that were dangling out of the train top. “That looks almost the same as Chuuya in terms of appearance. In terms of abilities, too. And a lot of other things in common. What if that thing was actually a skill-containing artificial life form, and the Chuuya who is living outside, whose only redeeming trait is being energetic, was the original one? Can someone like you who is not an expert, someone who has only browsed through limited materials from the past, see through that?”

“That is impossible.” Verlaine shook his head. “I’m not as stupid as to mistake the target in my infiltration mission. What I stole away from the lab nine years ago was undoubtedly the same as me, an artificial life-form.”

“If I look it up I will understand right away.” Dazai said casually. “Fortunately this time, the guys from the labs has demonstrated the method to rewrite the code formula inside Chuuya. If I capture some of those researchers using Mafia’s power, they will be more than happy to tell me how to read those codes. And then I will know which one Chuuya is actually. We have all the time in the world.”

“You seem pretty confident that Chuuya is human, don’t you?”

“I am”, Dazai laughed with a sigh. “There is no way a man-made string of code could create such a personality that I detest that much.”

Verlaine signed then started walking towards Dazai. His footsteps were heavy, as if he had to clean up a lot of tedious work.

“I can gently whole-heartedly explain to you the reason that was a misunderstanding... but now I have another job for you.“ he said, walking up the gentle slope that he fell from. “That is to spit out where Mori himself, not his double, is. It’s a painstaking job. Literally”

“So you have no intention to back off?”

“Of course not.”

Dazai didn’t look at anything, he gazed aimlessly into the air, “Is that so?”. Then he spoke with a disappointed face, “Then it is your loss.” A sniper bullet went straight for Verlaine’s head. Verlaine bent his upper body, and felt down the slope of humus. He rolled three times then looked up, looking at Dazai with stern eyes.

“Sniper?”

Before he could finish his sentence, yet another bullet struck Verlaine’s forehead. He almost fell to his side, pushing his hands against the ground to support.

“Your ability only works on things that you can touch.” Dazai said, swinging his legs as he looked down on his opponent. “That’s why the bullets that hit you will hit you. They just stop immediately. However, if we aim a larger sniper bullet, which has several times the velocity of a normal bullet, then it will still give you a blow the moment you use your gravity to stop it. Also...”

Dazai casually raised his hand.

From the top of the hill, through the gaps of the trees, from inside the humus, on top of big trees, more than fifty sniper bullets were fired at Verlaine at the same time. All the bullets pierced him, Verlaine growled.

Verlaine tried to hide under the shades of the trees while protecting himself by gravity. But even in the places he ran to, he got attacked from behind. Even if he tried to lower his posture to hide, the attack would come from above the trees. He had nowhere to run.

“To be able to set up this many snipers... in such a short time...”

A bullet pierced through Verlaine’s clothes and slid through his skin. It’s not a wound that could make him bleed, but there are so many of them. Ten shots in one second, then twenty, and more kept coming. It’s like the air that surrounds his whole body has become his enemies and attacked him.

Verlaine had no choice but to protect his head with his two arms and rolled himself up.

“You picked the wrong opponent, Verlaine-san.” Dazai chuckled. “I am an expert when it comes to dealing with gravity. Because no matter if I wake or sleep, the only thing I think about is how to annoy Chuuya.”

“Don’t underestimate me!”

While enduring the rain of bullets that were striking him, Verlaine grabbed a tree close by and pulled it out of the ground.

“You think you can kill me with this kind of rock throwing play? Verlaine swung the tree, trying to throw it. He planned to use the tree as a spear to crush the snipers who were hiding faraway in the dark.

However, that hand of his stopped halfway.

It was because the tree had been cut into pieces.

“Hoho, if I look closely, you look terribly like my subordinate.”

There was a flowing female voice as graceful as the sound of harp.

The burning bright red hair, eyes of the same color. Her crimson red

ombré looked like the color of ripen maple leaves. The most eye-catching thing was what floated beside her, a masked demon in a kimono. The demon was tall with long hair. She carried a sword of almost the same height as a child, as if it had no weights at all. The golden kimono melt into the air from her knees downwards, showing that it was not a real body.

“However, it was Mr. Brother who selfishly tried to poach our boy from us. I guess I can let that go after cutting off one of your limbs or two. So you’d better get lost quickly.”

Ozaki Kouyou. The Port Mafia’s young sword-woman. A powerful skill user who took Chuuya as her subordinate, accompanied by the golden demon, an embodiment of her skill, a beautiful beast.

Kouyou rolled a bright peony-colored umbrella on her shoulder. And then she twisted its handle and pulled it out. A silver blade appeared. A hidden sword.

“Mafia’s skill user?” Verlaine smiled like a beast. “But what can a mere ability user with two swords can do against gravity?”

Verlaine lowered his posture, ready to jump at Kouyou.

“Who said that I was alone?”

Verlaine’s body sank in.

Startled, Verlaine looked at his feet. The ground undulated like a snake, swallowing his two legs and even crawling up.

Verlaine was caught by surprise. He got rid of the gravity of his own body and jumped up. He landed on a trunk of a tree nearby. But even the trunk that definitely looked tough started to liquify the moment his shoes touched. It reached for Verlaine, trying to eat him up.

“This is...” Verlaine leaped again. However, the spot he planned to land on already turned into a mud with a will of its own, opening its mouth to wait for him.

“Hahaha. Keep running, young man. Youngsters like you exist to entertain this old man. Please die quickly and offer your head to me.”

Coming from the darkness of the woods was a big, strong man who looked just like a big tree. A military uniform that has faded in places. His bristle looked like a sewing needle. He wore a judo belt around his waist, and wooden clogs on his feet The arms folding in front of his chest were as thick as a tree that has lived for hundred years.

Port Mafia’s elite, a veteran who survived the Great War. His nickname in the organization is “Colonel.”

He swung his arms like an ancient tree and squeezed his fist tightly in front of his eyes. At the same time, the ground started to muffle. The liquified soil, trees, even the overturned train, all rushed to attack Verlaine in the air. An skill user who can manipulate objects and turn them into liquids?

Verlaine kicked the first wave of liquified soil that came towards him and retreated backward. But the soil was also coming from that direction. Even if he tried to change his orbit to run, liquified soil was still coming from beneath his feet and above his head. If they touched him they would still be blown away by the gravity, but the liquid will start to cover up from the top again, giving no time for Verlaine to prepare a counter attack.

On top of that, as if to stitch up the gaps, there were sniper shots coming from all directions.

“Tch...”

Verlaine densified a small amount of dust in the air, and stepped on that to leap his body up. He wanted to take some distance. Abilities that manipulate things like Colonel’s, in most of the cases won’t work for things that are out of their sights. That’s why he planned to hide deep in the wood then throw a huge rock enforced by gravity to finish them off.

An odd thing entered Verlaine’s field of vision at that moment.

A watch.

A watch was floating in the air.

From the outside, it looked just like a normal pocket watch. A dial with numbers, a long hand and a short hand, a crown, and the internal mechanism peeking out from the edge of the dial.

The strange thing about it was that it had a size of a man’s upper body. Also, it kept turning around as if it was staring at Verlaine.

Verlaine, who possesses a wide range of knowledge on skill users, sensed the danger from that watch almost immediately.

He tore off one button from the sleeve of his suit and amplified its gravity until it weighted dozens of kilograms. Then he threw it towards the watch.

That button comet holding enough power to knock down a building, however, couldn't interfere with the watch. It smoothly slipped through the watch, knocked off trees and disappeared into darkness.

“You can’t destroy that thing.”

A gloomy voice came from the ground.

Verlaine diverted his gaze and without his notice, a boy was already sitting on the ground. He was hugging his knees with his two arms, looking miserable. He looked up at Verlaine.

“It’s no use. That thing looks at everyone. Including me, and you. We have no choices but to die. One day it will find us. One day it will catch up with us. It’s　“time”. It’s the enemy of us all.”

He looked and sounded miserably. His clothes were so long it became awkward. The hems were all frayed. The boy who was so skinny you could see his bones through his clothes glared at Verlaine and waved his finger as if he was telling him “Come here, come here.”

The two hands of the watch clicked and pointed to the number 12 at the same time. Immediately afterwards, the watch in the air was sucked into Verlaine.

That was not a metaphor, it was literally sucked into him, into his chest.

Being wary of the disappeared watch, Verlaine stiffened his body. But nothing happened. There is nothing within his sig...

The liquified soil twisted around his legs.

Startled, Verlaine shook the liquid off by gravity. Then he looked around. He had got pretty far away for sure. It was so strange that the liquified soil could chase him this close. Right after that was a shock. A sniper bullet hit his head. Verlaine span halfway in the air. He landed on the ground, scraping the humus to stop.

It was weird. The speed of the sniper attack went up. The speed of the bullet by the moment it reached him was so fast that even if he used gravity to bounce it back, he was also blown away by a corresponding force.

“Did they replace their guns or bullets with more powerful ones? No, this is...”

The ground liquified again. Verlaine jumped out to dodge, before being eaten by the soil. But the speed of the liquid tentacles that extended and followed him also increased. Verlaine took a quick look around. From the treetops that were hit by the sniper attack just now, leaves were falling down. They were not fluttering, they were dropping as if they were stabbing the ground. This means, the attack speed didn’t get faster...

“Was my time... slowed down?”

“Everyone will die before me.” the gloomy boy stared at Verlaine with dubious eyes filled with hatred. “Brothers, parents, everyone will be killed by time. But I will get away with it. With this special power of mine”

A skill user who meddles with time. For the first time, Verlaine got a cold sweat on his forehead.

Time manipulation is not just a powerful skill, it is a extraordinary skill out of this world. As far as Verlaine knew, there were only a few cases reported in the world. The fist on the list of those time manipulation skill users who are separated from the world’s reasons, was a former skilled mechanic, H.G. Wells. After creating the skilled weapons called the “Shell”, she disappeared and became the world’s worst terrorist.

The time manipulation type of skills tinker the basic principles of this world, and rewrite them at will. Because if you look from the universe’s perspective, time and space are equivalent. The time manipulation skill users hold the same power that can alter the world, just like Verlaine’s gravity. Verlaine whose movements have become dulled because of the time delay　was flooded with Mafia’s attacks. All the bullets, the swords and liquified soil.

Even if he tried to retreat, because his time has been delayed, he could only move sluggishly as if he was under water.

Verlaine’s expressions became stiff.

Dazai gracefully looked at the wooded area echoing with gun shots and roaring sounds. He looked down at the battlefield that had turned into a hell, with such a carefree expression that cooled down in the night breeze._

“This is the rule of this world.” Dazai spoke like he was singing. “It applied in all times and ages, all creatures, the absolute truth. In this world, a group is stronger than an individual. A skill user is stronger than a group. And then...”

Feeling the pleasant cold breeze coming from the blasts of the battle on his cheeks, Dazai smiled.

“... a group of skill users are stronger than one skill user.”

Verlaine pushed his body’s gravity to the max. With a powerful driving force that surpassed the effect of the time manipulation skill, he quickly escaped from the battlefield. Verlaine’s bones cracked at the sudden speed acceleration that exceeded his limit.

Even when the danger struck in front of him, Verlaine’s judgement did not falter. It was not yet a hopeless situation. He would retreat as much as he could, taking as much distance he could from the waves of skill attacks. Then he would fix his posture, manipulate the gravity of the bullets that managed to reach him, repel them and knock down the skill users, one by one. That would be his win then.

Only three skill users. Not too much of a difference in strength.

Suddenly, blood came out from his skin.

Verlaine looked at his cuffs. The skin under his clothes was peeled off, exposing the flesh inside. But only a little blood came out. He felt almost no pains.

He landed down on the ground as a reflex. Upon touching the ground, the skin inside his shoes also came off. He could tell by the slippery feel from it. But again, there was no pain.

That was a new skill attack. But the true nature of it immediately became clear.

His breath was white.

His skin is frozen, there was frost on his eyelashes.

“Let us be held. By the frozen love. Let us be held. By the frozen flower that breaks in its full bloom.” the new skill user appeared, singing with a thin and screechy voice.

Long, white hair, white fur around her shoulders, white breath. And a crimson red rose on her chest. Every time the woman takes one breath, the trees around her froze, cracked up and snapped due to the water inside it freezing and expanding.

Verlaine understood it right away.

A skill user who can cool off the temperate. The reason why his skin was peeled off earlier was because the skin was exposed to the low temperature and got stuck to the inside of his clothes and shoes. His body really became that cold in just an instant. He was frozen from flesh to born, but not much time has even passed.

A super dangerous skill user. Freezing attack does not involve physical clashes. That’s why he can’t dodge them using gravity. It is his natural enemy

Another sniper bullet hit Verlaine’s shoulder. He groaned in pain.

The bullet was cold. It froze by the time it touched his skin, forming a frost pillar. The low temperature invaded into him through the wound, eating up his flesh.

The enemies attacks were too synchronized. Time delay, freezing, sniping. Apparently, it was a tactic that had been put together to block all of Verlaine’s strengths and exploit his weaknesses. There is still something strange about this. He has been retreating at a considerable speed since a while ago, yet the gunshots never stopped. His escape route was totally seen through. Normally if he ran at this speed in the woods in the middle of the night, he would immediately disappear from the telescopic sight. Losing the targets, sniping attack would definitely become impossible. So why?

“Hihihihi, what a sweet face. Hey, just between us, but if you cry and slobber and apologize here, maybe I will let you go this time?”

The voice was close. Really close.

Verlaine turned to that direction. No one was there... No.

In the middle of no where, a hole the size of a coin was opened. It was like the space was burnt and hollowed out, and on the other side of the hole was another different space. From that side, a black eye was staring at this side through the hole.

“Yes, it’s me. You are being watched. From now on, you can be assured even if you lock your toilet door hihihihi”

The hole was so small to see the entire thing. But that eye alone is enough. The eye was filled with malice. It had been watching Verlaine, chasing him and reporting about his positions all the time.

Verlaine fired a rotary kick by reflex at the hole.

“Oops.”

Right before being hit, the hole closed up and disappeared.

“I’m here.”

The voice came from behind. When he turned around, the same hole had been opened in a different place, looking straight at Verlaine.

That was the type of skill that connects space and monitor the targets. The skill user was probably sitting in another safe place, and monitoring the whole battle using their space connection skill. He couldn’t attack the actual skill user. If he tried to touch it, it would close immediately so he wouldn’t be able to destroy it using gravity.

Just how many skill users they have thrown in this battle?

“Hihihi, I have a present for you. From Port Mafia with love.”

From the coin-sized hole, flower petals flew out. Countless petals surrounded Verlaine then started to shine white. Yet another new skill.

The moment Verlaine tried to take a quick avoidance action, all the flower petals exploded at once.

From the train where he sat, Dazai could see the light from that explosion very clearly. The white light split open the woods at night, the afterglow burnt into the night sky.

Dazai looked at that scene, he was grinning.

“How is it going, Dazai-dono?”

From inside the train, a middle-aged man appear. He was wearing the boss’ outfit. He was the one who played the boss’ double, Hirotsu.

“As you can see, it is going well. So well that it is boring.”

In the direction he was pointing, the explosion sound was echoing, trees were falling, sniper flashes and low frequency noises were ringing non-stop.

Hirotsu took off the wig, put on the monocle he always has on, and narrowed his eyes.

“As one would expect.”

“Of course, I had to earn a lot of time to prepare all this. “ said Dazai, who was crossing his legs elegantly like a royal. “Chuuya and I had a terrible hard time fighting Randou-san. So this time I came prepared. Just to kill Mr. Assasin King from Europe, I had to gather a total of 422 people from the combat troops and 28 skill users. That is the full strength that Mafia can put in now.” At the scene where they were looking, the cold air and gun flashes kept shining. Verlaine tried to escape by threading his way in between the trees but a yellow-white ray burnt off the whole night sky, blocking that escape route. That was yet another skill user.

The plan was extremely simple. Setting up a trap and waiting. Chuuya and Adam drafted the same tactic before to defeat the Assasin King. The plan that Dazai carried out was basically the same. Identify the next target, set up traps around that target, and ambush Verlaine from behind when he appears.

The only difference between this and Chuuya’s plan is the scale of those traps. What have been set up as traps this time, was the entire Mafia’s overwhelming combat unit. The result was a one-sided destruction.

“We can keep this battle going for the whole night.” Dazai said as if he was whispering to Verlaine from far away. “Verlaine-san, you are a flawless assassin. With that vivid skill of yours, you have never once been traced down and surrounded like that, haven’t you? That’s why you have no experiences when being cornered by such a skill users organization. Even Randou-san was afraid of that dangerous flawlessness of yours.”

Dazai took out the leather notebook.

Rimbaud’s memoir. The journal Rimbaud had kept about the birth as well as full accounts of skill user Verlaine.

“I mourn for you, Verlaine-san.” Dazai put his hand on the notebook and said as if he was praying. “I mourn not for your death, but for your birth. No one mourns for you for being born. The only one who does is you yourself. That is the reason you fights... I think you are amazing. You despise the fact that you were born, you despise your own power, you despise the world. And by doing that, you came to accept your meaningless life. How wonderful that is. I don’t have that kind of courage. That’s why I wanted to talk with you more. But this is already goodbye.”

Dazai stood up, turning his back on the battlefield in front of him. He walked away.

“Dazai-dono?”

“Report to me when it is done.”

Dazai’s voice powerlessly fell to his feet. He walked away.

The next moment. A black way swelled over the battlefield.

...

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #storm bringer #spoilers #bsd spoilers #dazai osamu #paul verlain #port mafia

367 notes · View notes

kkusuka · 3 years

Text

december 14th

synopsis: imagine being the object of both Miya twins affection? they’ve know you were theirs from childhood, it just took you a damn long time to realize it.

osamu miya x reader x atsumu miya

(i have no idea what this is or where it came from)

just your normal childhood bestfriends turned obsessive bastards kind of fic!

THIS GETS KINDA DARK, READ AT YOUR OWN TERM

SEVERE MANIPULATION ‼️‼️

and an overuse of crossed out text. (clarification at the bottom for anyone who is confused)

is this angsty?

you had entered their life in a whirlwind of childhood laughter. it must’ve been hard for you to move all the way from Tokyo to boring ‘ole Hyogo. moved strait to them. but you seemed to love everything about your new environment, and things over there seemed to like you right back. it was bright and sunny and everyone had funny accents!

everyone was so nice, especially the twin boys from the house across the street. the second day you arrived in the town they had shown up on your doorstep and invited you to practice some volleyball with them, but you assume that is was because their mother forced them too. from the way they had laughed when you had taken one of atsumu’s sets right to the face or how osamu didn’t bother speaking to you until you had hit a spike, you were under the clear impression that they did not like you. don’t think that, they love you, they always ask to go over y’know?

that was until the first day of your new middle school when you heard all about how the miya twins had a cool new neighbor from tokyo. apparently they had been blasting it through the school, and they didn’t hate you as much as you though. turns out you also walked the same way home at the same time, you with a club you were trying to join and them with volleyball practice, so you ah the chance to get info strait form the source. they would tell you anything if you asked, all you needed to do was keep talking to them.

that walk home was where atsumu declared that they were simply testing you and seeing if you could truly be friends with them. or, as horrific as they made it sound, you were a girly-girl who was scared to get dirty. luckily you were a fair mix of the descriptions and form then on they were your self-proclaimed protectors. now and forever, they promised.

the rest of your middle school days wee filled with mindless banter about how cool aran-kun was and how atsumu was going to make it to the Olympics, no matter what. and he declared that you were coming with him. of course not after osamu chimes in about how your going to go with him, to achieve whatever food related path he treaded.

graduating middle school was the beginning of a new chapter in you and the twins. You had helped them dye their hair and they made sure that absolutely no boys, other then them, were near you. (with the exception of the team and a few of their closest friends) not that anyone who did get too close to you ever did again. now the you were official high-schoolers your parents became more then aware of your close relationship with the twins. the late movie night sleepovers were moved into a more open space where your mother could spy on what you were doing “just in case.” you were also increasingly aware of how the twins had grown.

they were no longer the small and twiggy boys who had made you play volleyball with them every Sunday. and they noticed that you weren’t that same small girl that would hold things above their head for that short span of time you were actually taller than them. they liked being taller than you, it made them feel powerful. first year was full of atsumu’s gloating about the all Japan training camp and his new best friend Omi-chan (which did hurt your feelings that you were replaced, but he assured you that you were in fact he favorite living thing on the planet) and osamu’s grimaces, having to listen to his brother.

the end of first year was when you truly realized how popular your two best friends had gotten. girls would leave things in their lockers almost daily and the two would take the gifts with great pride. looking back they never did get into a real relationship with anyone.

it was September of second year that everything took a turn. you had begun to date a boy form the class below, Takehiro. they hated him, you were leaving them, you cant leave them. you had noticed their obvious distaste of the boy, and takehiro seemed not to like them right back. the relationship lasted about a month before he began to try and convince you that the twins were bad for you, and that you should try and move away from them. no, you can’t do that. get rid of him he was bad for you. listen to them. what kind of boyfriend doesn't let his girlfriends have other fiends? thats a bad sign, y/n.

and with that it was just you and the twins again. as it should be. it was great, you had all of your fun and the twins became themselves once more. one month and 17 days until a point of no return you’ve never thought you’d have to cross. there was no need, it should have happen sooner if anything.

december 14th, second year. outside the school gates

5:26pm

“look, y/n, i-i, really like you and i was just wondering if-” the poor boy didn't even get to finish his sad confession. two warm bodies were already next to you and glowering at the poor pathetic boy.

“were, ya sayn’ somthin’?” atsumu.

“yea, sorry we interrupted.” osamu.

your wonderful protectors, they would help you out of this mess like always. this guy won't be having any of you. you belonged to them.

“we jus’ happen to notice-”

“that ya we talkin’ to our girl, y’know, had to come check it out”

you usually found comfort in them finishing the other sentences, but now it seemed to awaken something more sinister in the twins. you just didn’t see it last time with poor takehiro. you could hear the venom and possessiveness coming from their words. but all that was drowned out by atsumu pulling you into his arms. how it should have always been, let it happen, don't fight.

‘yer ours, remember that, no stupid boy is ever going to have you-”

“the only people who will ever have yer is us, understood?”

you’re theirs, always have been, you knew it, they know you know it. you were just not looking for it hard enough.

yes you did, somehow you had seen this coming all along and just didn't want to acknowledge it, but no it seems as if you had to face the two faced monster, you pprotecters, this is all for you, that was hiding since you moved to the small town in hyogo. home, your home.

two sets of hands grabbed at you guided you back into the house that was across the street. home home home

“it’s ok if you don’t know it now, we have all the time in the world to show you”

they were your home from the minute you opened the door on the second day in the town. you just took too long and they had to rush a bit. no worries they have the rest of their lives to show you what home really is.

(just a little briefing bc when i originally posted this on my old account there was some confusion, the crossed out text is the twins and as the amount of split text increases so does the amount of control the twins have over you, thats why there is so much and why it gets more frequent towards the end. than you <33)

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shelby-love · 3 years

Text

BOBBY NASH

Life as Cap's Daughter

Requested: yes

Author's note: I got a little carried away, but I wanted to DELIVER FROM POINT A (LOWEST) TO POINT B (BEST) PART OF HIS LIFE. Kept it realistic as possible plus it’s very long SO BEWARE

P.S. you can kind of see how my love for the man just SPILLED ... aka I kind of lost it and just hammered the numbers. It shows how unexperienced I am at these <3

Requests for 9-1-1 are OPEN

Headcanon

Bobby had you before Marcy and Athena were a part of his life

You were his little everything

The food he fed you growing up…

You would tell people that your dad's a chef, and not a firefighter

You thought a chef was a better job! You were four…

With your mom out of the picture it was just you and your dad for a big part of your childhood

He baby proofed the entire house

Balled his eyes out when he walked you to school for the very first time

When he met Marcy you were roughly around 8, but the two of you got along very well right off the bat

Even though he's a quiet, withdrawn man that likes to keep to himself, you were the one who brought out his witty side

He was very proud when you showed an interest in ice skating, it quickly became 'your thing' and Bobby loved that you inherited that from him

He's at all of your performances!

He catches you every time no matter the situation

You loved Robert Jr. and Brook very much too, considering them your siblings without a doubt

You helped change their diapers, practically raised them with Marcy and your dad

Family dinners with Bobby's marvelous cooking – a must!

Bobby was very overprotective when you entered your teen years so thank god for Marcy (she was a saint)

He'd invite your date over and drill him while eating the nicest foods he prepared with extra caution

"Dad, that was a bit too much…"

"You think? I didn't even get to scratch the surface."

"Okay, honey, let her go have fun."

Marcy and the kids were there for you when your dad started to go south because of his injury

"Dad where are you going?"

"I'll be back soon. Don't worry about me."

For a moment you considered if life with him was even worth it

Wanting to finish high school as soon as possible just so you could get away from his lies was your darkest thought

But he is your father, and no one could change that

The fire though... It was the most heartbreaking moment of your life

You were out, so you weren't on the scene

But you wished you were at some point

You couldn't look at him after that

Went through the roughest time of your life

It felt like you jumped through time because you two were alone again

But that made you treasure each other more than anything

You watched him at his lowest and supported him when he started to get better

"Dad, please don't give up."

I don't think Bobby would be able to get through the trauma if it weren't for you

Not even his notebook was enough to keep him together – you were the glue

That's why making a fresh start in L.A. felt great

You two settled quickly; you giving in more effort than he did at first

Because you're smart like your father you got into a very very very good college in L.A.

"At least something's working out for once."

"Hey don't say that."

"But dad... It's true!"

When he told you, he was in station 118 you stalked researched them

Found out the address, looked at the place from outside using Google Street View

That kinda thing

"But dad. I'm just looking out for you!"

"I know. Thank you for that."

There's a lot of buts

But dad this but daaaad that

You're very annoying when you want to be

The two of you lived together, since you didn't trust him enough to move out and live on campus

He didn't bring you to the firehouse until he was 100% sure

No scratch that: until he was 100000% sure, you weren't stepping foot on the grounds of that station

When you did meet them, you loved Hen instantly

You wanted to come back just for her

Chimney was a bit awkward

He didn't know how to act around you

You were 18 but since you were Cap's daughter he didn't know if he had to treat you like you were 8 or not

Hen didn't have that problem obviously

She was so easy going you loved her instantly

Bobby has eyes everywhere when you're at the station

MEETING BUCK WAS HORRIBLE

Your dad was breathing down on your neck when you came to the firehouse one day and Buck 1.0 was working there (just started)

HE HIT ON YOU IT WAS HORRIBLE YOU DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

Neither did he once he found out

That was the day Bobby fired him bc he did the nasty with that lady in the firetruck

You came by like, "Hi, I'm Y/N nice to meet you Evan."

And then suddenly you had to go like, "Bye Ev- Buck… It was nice knowing you."

Buck went home that day – pride demolished

"Did you really have to do that dad?"

"I said three strikes, and he's out. He didn't listen."

Why didn't you come earlier? Surely you could have given Buck some great tips

"Oh, well."

Buck came back!

You became friends after that. Had a teasing relationship, never looked at each other the other way after that day

Y/N + Buck = BFF

You'd joke about your first tragic meeting and you’d go out with him when he was going through a dark time because of Abby

You didn’t drink, he did

Everyone loves you OBVIOUSLY

You're Cap's daughter I MEAN WHAT IS THERE TO SAY?

Eddie came too! Eventually.

You fell in love with him instantly

But you love his son even more than him

You'd take care of him whenever you had time and Eddie was busy working

You learned more facts about the world from little Christopher than from your own father

You often came by to eat lunch at the station because that's where your dad ‘the cook’ was

Maddie and you hit it off very well and became close friends

NOW MEETING ATHENA FOR THE FIRST TIME…

Your mouth was on the floor

She was so goddess like you were smitten by her

So, your dad and her announcing their relationship to you wasn't a surprise

You and Hen won the bet

Became close with May and Harry too although it was hard not to picture them as Brook and Robert at first

After your dad and Athena got married you finally felt as if you could breathe

Knowing that your dad was safe and sound, you moved over to campus but still had your own room at Athena's place

You go there every weekend

You're essential to the party planning

Even though you're a perfect little young adult you're ready to pull out the "My step-mom's a sergeant" card

A huge party was thrown for your 21st birthday

I'm talking BIG BIG BIG

Buck and you got drunk

Your dad got drunk too

Life turned around for the better although some pieces of past tragedies still lingered

You've let go of people but you and your dad also grew and healed enough to let new people into your lives

No one knows what life has in store for you two, but you both know it will be good

As long as you have each other

He's your pillar, and you are his in return, that's how it's always been

"I love you dad."

"I love you too kiddo."

Tags (general (all posts)): @fofisstilinski @short-potato @miranda0102 @httphiddlestan @caromichaela @xx-missunicorn-xx @jemmakates @theravenclawmarauder @httphiddlestan @tclaerh @chefdoeuvre

Tags (9-1-1): /

Let me know if you want to be added to my 9-1-1 tag list! My updated tag lists ♡

#Bobby Nash imagine #Bobby Nash headcanon #Bobby nas daughter imagine #nash!reader #Nash!reader imagine #Bobby Nash daughter fanfiction #Bobby Nash x reader #Bobby Nash fanfiction #Bobby Nash #911 fanfic #911 imagine #911 show #911 x reader #9 1 1 fanfiction #9 1 1 x reader #9 1 1 oneshot

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wolfish-trickster · 3 years

Text

Liar

Word count: 1,9K

Warning: angst, kinda messy writing, bad grammar

Tag list:@gaitwae @lucywrites02 @hard-to-be-the-bard @birdgirl90 @laramoonworld

You were always a hopeful person. Trying to be positive no matter what. Seeing the good in people. Even in Loki.

You first met him in his glass cell in helicarier (a/n i have no idea how to spell it, it's that big flying thing in Avengers 1). You two talked and got to know eachother. He told you how his father lied to him, how Thanos tortured him and how he doesn't want to hurt anyone. You believed him. And promised him he will be okay.

Two years after the battle of New York you finally talked to your team mates. You made an entire power point presentation for Avengers to show them Loki is not evil anymore and they should at least give him a chance, like you did.

That's how you and Loki became close friends. Always spending time with the other one, talking about your interests, your cultures, books, movies, anything the both of you came up with.

You comforted him, when he had nightmares. He cuddled you when you watched horror movies and got scared.

He always came to you for advice and opinion and you were more than happy to help your best friend. He always hugged you afterwards as thanks.

Sometimes he even brought you a cake and some flowers, just because he 'felt like it'.

One rainy day he fall asleep on your lap in your room. As you played with his black silky hair you realized you don't view him as your best friend anymore. But as a crush. You felt a shy blush come up to your cheeks as you imagined how would it feel like to cuddle him whole night, to be held by him, kissed by him.

You caressed his cheek and hoped one day he would feel the same.

And as always, you became hopeful. You started to remember all those times he was very close with you, doing something only couples do (like the afore mentioned cuddling, falling asleep on your lap or even the freaking flowers) and hoping he is developing feelings for you.

You were wrong.

You remember that day clearly. It was nice and sunny outside. A perfect day for a walk in the park. You walked out from your room and started looking for Loki. You wanted to have a walk with him.

You heard some voices coming from the kitchen below. Including a velvety one you knew all too well.

You jumped down those 20 stairs. Voices got louder as you came closer. There was Loki and some woman in the kitchen. And nobody else. Your name fell from one of their mouth's.

Quiet as a mouse you stood behind the corner just outside the kitchen and listened.

"Don't tell me she's not annoying! She's practically your shadow and trails after you like a lost puppy. And not even a cute one!" the woman giggled. From her tone of voice you imagined her as a classical blond plastic fake gold digger. You expected Loki to stood up for you, like any good friend would.

He only chuckled. "You are right! She is always behind my back. So bothersome and clingy..." you heard gulping. Maybe they were drinking some alcohol. You prayed for him to be just drunk and not knowing what he's saying.

"So why do you keep her around so much?"

A moment of silence. "I don't really know. For fun, I suppose? She was only good for me to get out of prison. She's so naive to really think I am her friend it's hilarious!"

You couldn't breathe. You stood there like a statue. He was only manipulating you and playing with you. All this time.

Tears clouded your vision as you walked away from them. The whole world looked like a big grey blur to you.

You still went out. Better than stay in the same building with him. Sitting on a bench in the nearby park, listening to birds chirping and watching dogs play with their owners was somewhat comforting. The pain in your chest was still too big though. How could you trust someone who's a 'God of Mischief' or a 'Prince of Lies' of all people? He really did go out of his way to make you trust him, didn't he? All those gifts, hugs, hanging out, watching movies under one blanket. All of that was just him pretending. And you believed him.

You groaned and hid your face in your hands. You're friends with spies and trained soldiers, what if they're pretending just like him and they secretly love when you aren't with them? What if everytime you talk to them they secretly wish for you to shut up and leave? Paranoia and anxiety just won't leave you, will they?

"It will get better after high school they said," you stood up from the bench, "you will be more confident they said. My ass-" suddenly you tripped over a string and fell on your face. Your right cheek stung, your knees were scraped. As you were standing up a wet tongue started to lick your face. A golden retriever's way to greet you, apparently.

"Ollie, stop! I'm so sorry," the dog was yanked back by his leash. Ollie's owner held out his hand to help you stand up.

"It's okay. It's my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going," you dusted your clothes when you were finally on your legs. Ollie was jumping up and down, still trying to lick your face. Even through your emotional pain you couldn't resist and smiled.

"He's still an untrained pup, sorry if he's bothering," the unknown man was trying to calm him down once again, but you stopped him.

"He's not bothering," you bent down and scratched behind his ears. "Hi there little fella, aren't you one cute boy? Yes you are," you scratched and caressed his fur.

"He is cute, but quite handful. Still I wouldn't exchange him for anyone in the world."

"Anyone?" you asked.

"Yeah, you see I got him when I found out my partner cheated on me. I felt so betrayed I thought I'll never trust anyone else again," he said and sat down on the bench you were previously sitting on. "Sorry, I'm telling way too much than I should."

"No, it's okay. I know exactly how you felt. Something similair happened to me too," you looked away sadly and stopped scratching Ollie's fur. "That's why you got a dog? To replace that somebody who was previously in your life?"

He nodded. "At first I though I needed a pet to distract myself from the pain, but in reality all I needed was a life long friend who will never betray me. And what's better than a man's best friend?" he hugged his goldie and he licked his face.

You smiled. Maybe that's what you need. A loyal dog to keep you company. To give you emotional support through cuddles and to never leave you or lie to you. Unlike certain someone.

You chatted with him for few more minutes and then made your way to the nearest dog shelter.

The cutest little fluffy german shepherd was dozing off in your arms when you walked into your room. You naivly thought Loki will greet you and pretend to be nice again but he was nowhere to be found. Actually, none of the Avengers were nearby. 'That's okay' you thought. 'I'll at least be alone with this cute guy.'

You let him run around your bedroom, sniffing every corner of his new home, chewing on everything he could reach with his tiny snout. You threw him some of the squeeky toys you bought and watched him play. It lifted your mood, somewhat.

The dull ache from your chest didn't leave. Even when it got dark outside and your new companion dozed off in your lap. Soft laughter was coming from the party deck, which was quite far from your room so in reality it must've been much louder.

'So they returned, huh? Didn't even check on their supposed friend' you thought. Maybe you were right afterall. They never concidered you a friend.

Your phone started buzzing, a silly selfie of you and Loki lightened up the screen. 'What does he want? I don't wanna talk to him.'

You picked up. "Yeah?"

"Y/N!" hearing his voice nearly made you cry. "Thank Norns you finally picked up! Where are you?"

You squinted your eyes suspiciously. "Why?"

"I've been trying to reach you all afternoon! I couldn't find you anywhere and I have called you 5 times already. Are you okay?" he sounded worried. He really should've been voice actor.

"5 times? I didn't hear anything."

He groaned. "Yes, 5 damn times. You made me really sick with worry."

Liar.

"Whatever. I can do things even without you, you know."

"Why the attitude?" he asked a little less worried.

"You know what Loki? Do me a favour and leave me alone," you hung up sooner than your voice could crack. Silent tears streamed down your cheeks.

As you were standing up with the little pup in your hands and putting him in his bed Loki practically smashed down your door. You jumped back startled and nearly let go of your little friend who woke up and started barking.

"What the fuck Loki?!"

He looked at you, mix of fury and happiness in his eyes. "Okay, I don't know what I did that made you react like that to a simple 'where have you been the whole day' but you could've at least tell me you were going out. What if someone attacked you? And I wasn't there? What if-" he took a deep breath, anger leaving his eyes. "I'm just glad you are home and safe."

Liar.

Your puppy stopped barking and started wagging his tail, excited to have a new friend. He is just like you. Naive.

"Oh, and who is this little bundle of fur?" he reached out to pet his tiny head but you backed away.

"He's my new best friend. This is Rex."

Loki's face turned into confusion. "Darling, I thought that's my title," he laughed awkwardly.

You glared and hugged Rex to your chest. "Not anymore. Not after what I discovered about you."

"Discovered about me? What are you talking about?"

"Drop the act. I heard you. I heard you saying how I'm naive enough to think I'm your friend, how I'm bothersome and clingy and I was only good for you to get out of prison!" tears were flowing freely but you didn't care.

"Darling, what are yo-"

"I wasn't finished! I really thought you were honest with me. I thought all those times we hung out meant something to you! That you at least respect me. But no! You used me. You were pretending to be nice. All those times! And I believed you!" you started taking steps towards him, he was backing away.

"You misunderstood, I-"

"No! I don't want you to tell me anything! I'm not your plaything anymore! I grew a spine. And you can bet your ass I'm training Rex to bite you whenever you get close to me again!" his eyes started glistening but that must be just your imagination.

"Love, please let me ex-"

"Get lost Laufeyson," with those words you slammed your door in his face.

#loki #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki angst #loki x reader angst #loki x you #angst

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outerbankspreferences · 4 years

Text

Boat Day

2197

JJ MAYBANKS x READER (PRE RELATIONSHIP)

WORD COUNT: 2197

WARNINGS: underage drinking, drugs, language.

A/N: Y/N stands for Your Name and Y/L/N stands for Your Last Name. This is my first story, so send me some request!

Summers in the Outer Banks are the best. The days are long, the water’s warm and the fun never ends. The best thing about living here are my friends. We call ourselves the Pouges. A handed down name on this island for as long as I can remember. The Pouges are the poor kids. Work for a living to help your parents, cause trouble to have great memories to look back on when you’re older, but most importantly, a family. A lot of us don’t really have one of those. Our parents are to busy working for the Kooks to have time to spend with us.

It was another typical morning on the banks. I was getting ready to go out on the boat with my friends. It was a rare day that we all had no work and nothing to do. I was packing my cooler full of food and drinks because it was my turn to feed everyone. I was wearing my favorite t-shirt dress and I had my hair in a low ponytail and sunglasses on, my go to when it was this hot out. I was walking onto the back porch the led to our dock right as the boat was pulling up.

“Top of the morning to ya’ sailors.” I greeted my friends. John B was at the wheel slowing down so I can hop on, Kiara was taking the cooler out of my hand and Pope was still reading. I turned to the back of the boat and saw JJ laying there, hat over his head. “What’s his problem?” I ask motioning to JJ. “He drank a little too much last night, and is now nursing a hangover.” John B explains. “Isn’t he always hungover? Here JJ I have something that will fix you, it’s my moms favorite cure.-“Oh yeah, what is it? Advil? ‘Cause I already popped like three of those before you got here.” JJ responded not moving the hat. I pulled another drink out of my cooler. “No silly, it’s to keep drinking. Can’t get a hangover if your always drunk.” JJ moved his hat slightly, looking up at me squinting, sits up takes the drink and smiles. “can’t argue with that logic.” He responds.

I finish passing the rest of the drinks out as John B steered towards the marsh with sun on our backs warming up to be a good day. As we get to our usual spot, Pope throws the anchor down and looks at me “What kinda’ sandwiches did you pack Y/N?” as he rummaged to the bottom knowing I kept them there so they would stay cold. “I packed PB&J for me and you, cucumber for our dear vegetarian Kie, and ham and cheese for these dorks.” He smiled, I always pack everyone’s favourite snacks. “That’s why we keep you around” Pope responds. I gasp, “what?” I ask dramatically. “and here I thought it was my charming personality and good looks.” Everyone starts to laugh, “Sorry sweetheart, but I already took that roll” JJ says to me with a pat on my back. I can’t help but laugh out loud. “Yeah whatever helps you sleep at night J” Kie says laughing with me. “wouldn’t you like to know” he says with wink. My heart flutters. That wink kills me every time.

I’ve had a thing for JJ since we started hanging out together. My family moved here in the eighth grade and I became friends with Kiara. We met volley ball tryouts, quickly becoming friends as if we’d know each other our whole lives. She introduced me to the Pouges, and the rest was history. When Kie started her Kook year, Pope helped me find my way around the school, and lucky for me, JJ always not to far behind.

After we’ve all had something to eat and smoked a couple of blunts it was time to go swimming. Everybody starts taking there clothes off, and jumps in. As I’m taking my dress off I can feel JJ’s eye on me. That’s when I remember I’m wearing a new bathing suit. It’s a simple pink bikini but it shows a bit more of my cleavage then normal. “That’s so cute Y/N! Where did you get it?” Kie asks while my head is stuck in my dress. “At that boutique-for fuck sakes-you know the new one-“Here let me help” I feel a pair of hands grip the dress and a small laugh, and I know the second I hear it , that JJ is coming to my rescue. My breath hitches when his hands brush against my back side. The heat of his hands linger for a minute, “You’re a dysfunctional mess Y/L/N, probably lose your head if it wasn’t attached.” JJ spoke, everyone laughing along with him. “Real comedian you are Jim Carry, I’ll have to come to one of your shows-anyways as I was saying, I’m borrowing it from the boutique that just opened on Main Street.” I tell Kie, “Do they know you’re borrowing it?”. She knew me too well. It was small habit of mind to shoplift clothes. We couldn’t really afford new ones, and I hated asking my parents for one. “No they don’t know I’m borrowing, but I’ll fix the tag when I’m done with it and return it. No one will the wiser” She scuffs at my answer. I take that opportunity to jump in the water with them.

After swimming and another round of snacking and smoking the sun is starting to set, and we are turning the boat around to head home. “Hey Y/N, do you work tomorrow?” JJ asks me. We work at the country club together. I work in housekeeping, and he works in the kitchen doing a little bit of everything. “Yeah I do, 8 to 4 cleaning the discharges. What about you?” I ask him knowing where this is going. I always pick JJ up on my way if we’re working the same shifts. Someone was to make sure he makes it there. “I go for 9 and work a 12 hour shift, think I can bunk at your place? Is your mom working night shift?” My mom is a nurse at the E.R. and when she’s not home I let him spend the night with me. My dad is away on a fishing trip so no one would know he’s there. “Yeah she’s leaving for work at 7 if you want to sleep on the couch. Just don’t smoke in the house this time. My dad could smell the weed when he got home” “sure thing”.

John B stops at Kie’s first, she’s the only one with a curfew for being out late one to many times. “Alright losers, thanks for the day, I’ll talk to you guys tomorrow. John B are you still coming by the wreck in the morning?” Kie asks him and I look at Pope, I can see him roll his eyes under his sunglasses. I was under strict orders from him not to say anything about his crush in her. “Of course, do you think you’re dad will still want me picking up shifts there, it’ll get DCS off my case for a little while.”. Kiara’s dad offered to help John B out after Big John went missing a couple of months ago. DCS was been on his case about his uncle and the bills. “He said he needed the help with the summer season starting, Charlie Hanson quit last week for his band so we’re short a dish washer” Pope finally looks up from the book he’s reading, “I’ll sleep at your place tonight and help you write resume out for him.” John B smiled at Pope. “Thanks man, I really need your wisdom” Everyone laughs. Kie gets off the boat and waves goodbye to everyone. “Next stop the Y/L/N home” JJ says, “I’m so tired I could fall asleep right here” He motions to the front of the boat. Dramatically laying across the hard plastic. It’s grown colder now that the sun has set and with that wind picks up. I’m only in my dress from earlier, cursing myself for not bringing a sweater. “Christ John can this bucket of bolts go any faster, I’m freezing my ass off” I ask with a hint of sarcasm. Moments later I watch JJ sigh deeply and throw a towel over in my direction. “You’re lucky I was too hungover to go swimming, that should keep you warm. We’re almost there.” After a short distance and many laughs we’re finally pulling up to the dock. I look up to my house, and see that my mom left the light outside on, she knew me to well. I hated walking up the yard in the dark. JJ grabs the cooler and waves goodbye to Pope and John B as they sail away.

I wave goodbye to them and turn around to see that JJ is already half way up the yard. “JJ wait up, I only have little legs!” It was our inside joke, we both love watching full house, and he was quite taller then me so I could never keep up. He was quiet the short walk up to the house holding the door open for me. As we walk into my kitchen, I lock the door, and turn the outside light off. “Do you want the first shower J?” I ask him walking to the closet to pull out the extra blankets for him to sleep with. I could hear him opening the fridge. “No, you take the first shower and use the hot water. I don’t want to listen to you complain about me using all the hot water again.” I couldn’t argue with that. My house had shit warm water. Normally enough for a quick shower, and then taking forever to reheat. After putting the blankets on the couch, I look at JJ coming out of the kitchen with just his swim trunks on. “I’m taking a cold shower anyways, it’s hot in here.” He comments taking another drink of his water. I smile and nod to him, walking to my room to get some clothes. I grab the towel from the closest hallway and a pair of pajama’s walking into the bathroom. I start the water and hop in washing my hair and body. Once I’m done I get out of shower throw my hair in a bun and get changed. I walk into the living and JJ is siting there rolling a joint and watching tv. “Did your mom upgrade from cable because I don’t remember you having this channel” he asked not looking up from his joint. Eyebrows knitted together in concentration. “Yeah she complained about the bill being to high, and they gave some extra channels for being loyal customers or something like that” I look at what he’s watching. National Geographic. “JJ since when have you liked national geographic? What are you even watching? Is that Naked and Afraid?” You hit the guide to confirm that he’s actually watching it. “Yeah, I thought it was actually going to show them naked, not blur all the good stuff. Too PG if your asking me. What’s the point of calling the show Naked and afraid if you don’t actually see them naked?” He did make a good point, honestly I never watch any the television, always opting for Netflix. “I don’t know why the call it that. But you should go shower, its getting late and we both have to work early. Do you want me to wake you up when I get up?” I ask walking into the kitchen to get myself a drink. “No you wake up at the ass crack of dawn, just wake me up before you go I’ll sleep in the car until its time for work” JJ calls as I hear him shut the door to the bathroom. Once I hear the water running, I sigh and start making the couch up for him. I grab some of the pillows from my room, and take his rolled joint and put it in baggie with his other. I put his book bag by the couch and a clean pair of shorts he left from last time.

As I’m getting into bed, I can hear the shower turn off, and shortly after the door open. As I’m lying in bed thinking about the day staring at the ceiling, I can hear JJ rummaging around the living room. My heartbeat quickens thinking that he’s in the other room. I wish I could get the courage to tell him how I feel, but the rules say other wise. When Pope told me about his crush, that’s what he said to me. “remember those stupid no pouge on pouge macking rules.” A small mantra as to not ruin our friendship together. As I’m slowing drifting off to sleep I can hear JJ call from the other room, “goodnight Y/N” and I fall asleep with a smile on my face and pain in my heart knowing the man I love is another room and not with me.

#jj outer banks #jjmaybanks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj x reader #john b outer banks #outer banks #rudy pankow #rudy pankow imagines #rudy pankow x reader

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aalissy · 3 years

Text

Commissions

Day 8 is doneee!! Woot woot!! And it’s another mini reveal! I hope you guys like it! I had fun writing it. Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

“Marinette, can I ask you something really quickly?” Adrien tugged on her sleeve, stopping her before she could head outside their school.

Blinking in surprise, her brow furrowed as he looked at her almost desperately. Her eyes darted down to where he was still holding onto her sleeve before she tore her gaze back up to his eyes. Giving him a small smile, Marinette spoke, “O-of course, is something wrong?”

Adrien finally let go of her sleeve, glancing away as he rubbed at the back of his neck. After a short pause, he asked, “You do commissions, right?”

“Well, yes, b-”

Before she could clarify any further, Adrien looked at her with relief, “That’s great! I accidentally tore one of the sleeves on my suit jacket and I really need it by tomorrow! Is there a way you can do that? I can pay extra.”

Marinette’s eyes widened. That’s right! It was the Agreste Annual Ball tomorrow night. No wonder he looked so desperate. Grinning mischievously causing her blue eyes to twinkle slightly as she tapped her chin, “Hmm, I don’t know... that’s pretty soon.”

“Please, I’ll do anything, Marinette,” he begged, "My father will kill me if my outfit is ruined.”

Thoughts of asking him if he’d consider a kiss a fair exchange filled her head before she quickly shoved them down. No. She was supposed to be over him! Just because he said he’d do anything didn’t mean he actually meant it! She had finally managed to talk to him normally and she wasn’t going to mess that up!

Giggling softly, she shook her head, “It’s alright, Adrien, of course I’ll help you! I was only teasing. It'd probably be best if you come over now, though. Are you available?”

“Yes! You’re the best, Marinette!” Adrien practically shouted as he threw his arms around her.

Feeling the beginnings of a pink flush tint her cheeks, Marinette patted him on the shoulder carefully. I thought you were supposed to be over him, a corner of her mind taunted her smugly. Shut up, she scolded it back, letting herself sink into Adrien’s embrace for a few more seconds.

When they both pulled back, Adrien gestured at his limo with a small grin, “Need a lift?”

She blinked at him in confusion before tilting her head, “Don’t you have to go home to get the suit jacket first?”

“Actually...,” Adrien started, rubbing the back of his neck, “I brought it with me. It’s in my backpack.”

Marinette frowned deeply. Pursing her lips, she tsked at him, “Is it crumpled up into a ball in there? Adrien, you shouldn’t be treating good fabric like that. Besides, it could rip even further.”

He simply answered with a sheepish grin before opening the limo door for her. Sighing, she quickly slid into her seat. Turning around to face him when he sat besides her, Marinette immediately held out her hand, “Can I see the jacket?”

Adrien nodded quickly before digging through his backpack. She winced when she saw him root past a few notebooks and pencil cases to find the suit jacket at the very bottom. Marinette breathed out a slow, painful breath when she saw the state the jacket was in. Taking it from his hands carefully, she held it in her own hands gingerly.

There was a tear almost clean through the entire sleeve. Looking over at him with a quiet, amused laugh, she asked, “How did you do this? I was expecting a small cut, not a giant hole.”

“Uh, there was an akuma attack...” Adrien’s eyes darted around nervously.

Giggling at his reaction, Marinette teased, “Was he in your suit or did he just decide to cut off one portion of it?”

Adrien shrugged embarrassedly, opening his mouth to speak when the limo came to a stop. Giving her one last bashful grin, he stepped outside quickly. With a quiet chuckle, Marinette followed after him.

Together, she and Adrien both stopped to say hello to her parents before they went up to her room. With a quiet hum, Marinette spun into her desk chair and pulled out her sewing supplies. For a long while, the room was quiet. Marinette’s tongue poked out in concentration as Adrien leaned his head over to watch her work.

At first, having him watch over her was absolutely nerve-wracking. Though Marinette had sworn she had gotten over him, it was still Adrien! Every so often, his breath would brush against her cheek and she would be reminded that he was standing right next to her.

After a few, deep, calming breaths, and a couple of pricks with her sewing needle, however, Marinette turned her focus entirely on the suit jacket in front of her. Eventually, Adrien’s presence faded away into the background and became comfortable and familiar. It was much like having Chat Noir over, listening to him ooh and ahh over her latest design. With a small giggle, she remembered listening to him rant about the previous akuma while she worked on her designs.

After that, she quickly finished up the tear in Adrien’s suit jacket. Holding it up proudly, she beamed at it, “There we go! All finished, kitty. How does it look.”

Her eyes widened at what she just said. Immediately recognizing her mistake, Marinette winced. Please tell me you didn’t notice that I called you kitty, she cringed internally and shut her eyes tightly closed.

“It looks purrfect, purrincess!” Adrien purred and her eyes immediately flipped back open. She whirled around and noticed that his own eyes were wide with shock. Her mouth immediately fell open and she wheezed uncertainly, wondering if she had just dreamed this whole encounter.

T-there's no way, right, Marinette thought to herself, A-Adrien can’t be...

Stuttering slightly, she handed him the suit jacket with dark red cheeks, “H-here you go, A-Adrien.”

“Right, yes. Uh, thank you, Marinette. You just saved my life!” he immediately took it from her. He gave her a shaky, uncertain smile before asking, “S-so, how much do I owe you?”

Well, she could either go out on a limb and risk her secret identity entirely... or she could pretend that nothing happened. Taking a deep breath to fill herself with courage, Marinette spoke rather quietly, “I think you’ve paid me back plenty, kitty.”

Adrien paled and her suspicions were confirmed. It felt like she just got punched in the stomach. Adrien really was Chat Noir. This entire time they had been circling around each other. A small smile twitched at her lips as he began to stutter out excuses, “Listen, i-it’s not what you think, Marinette.”

Pushing up from her seat, she gave him a trademark Ladybug smirk. She pushed his nose back playfully as she grinned, “I’m pretty sure it’s exactly what I think, mon Chaton.”

Immediately his mouth fell open before he grabbed her wrist with his hand gently, “M-m’lady?”

“Hello, my kitty,” Marinette giggled and gave him a shy wave.

“I can’t believe I’ve actually found you!” Adrien gasped before wrapping her up in a giant hug, “I always suspected it would be you, too but after Multimouse I thought I was crazy!”

Pulling back slightly to give him a sheepish grin, Marinette murmured, “Sorry, I was trying to keep you from figuring out my identity.”

“Well, it definitely worked. I was very disappointed to learn my sweet, cute, adorable classmate wasn’t the girl of my dreams,” Adrien grinned down at her softly.

She squeaked loudly, feeling herself blush as her entire face turned red. Shifting in his arms even more, she looked him directly in the eye, “G-girl of your dreams, huh?”

Now it was Adrien’s turn to flush deeply, his eyes darting away to mutter an apology, “Sorry... I shouldn’t have said that.”

Adrien took a step back and she felt her body shiver slightly as he let go of her. Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, Marinette rushed out, “The boy was you!”

“W-what?” He looked back at her again, but this time his eyes were filled with confusion.

“T-the boy,” she gulped, “The boy I turned Chat Noir down for... i-it was you.”

“Me?!” Adrien’s mouth gaped open, “Are you serious?!”

Marinette giggled nervously, tapping her fingers together, “K-kinda... I’ve actually been in love with you since you gave me your umbrella.”

Instead of a response back, Marinette was immediately wrapped back up in his arms as he spun her around. She squeaked faintly before he pressed his lips against hers. She melted into his embrace, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed him back. Adrien’s head tilted to deepen their kiss and she ran her fingers through his hair.

Eventually, they pulled back to suck in deep, lungfuls of air, grinning at each other. Adrien lightly placed his forehead against hers, cupping her cheeks, “Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend, now?”

“Only if you can be my boyfriend,” Marinette beamed back at him.

Adrien threw his head back to laugh deeply before he pulled her back in for another deep kiss.

#adrinetteapril2021 #adrienetteapril2021 #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #fic #fanfic #adrinette #adrienette #identity reveal #ml #mlb

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travellingarmy · 3 years

Text

║Ningguang║Inspiration

From Wattpad.

Gender-neutral.

Fluff.

Word count: 1.9k

---

She looked so beautiful sitting in the midst of those glaze lilies, a smile on her lips and eyes gentle with a soft glow from the sunlight as she looked at the flowers. She plucks a glaze lily and brought it up to her nose, pushing a strand of her long hair behind her ears.

At that moment, it felt as if the rest of the world stopped. Your eyes glimmered and your face dusted with a light pink. To you, she was a goddess under that one beautiful and bright day and hope that you could get to see more of her in the future.

You see, you were a travelling painter and writer who is inspired by anything and everything around you. Travelling all across Teyvat, anybody would thought that you would have already met that eureka moment at its highest peak but no, you didn't- not until your travel to Liyue, that is.

Liyue, like all regions of Teyvat, had a unique style that distinguishes itself from others: the aesthetic of buildings, the aromatic dishes, its culture, yearly festivals-- you name it. It draws many and all sorts of people- either for work or for fun and you were there for the latter.

The bustling of crowds and the bright lights of the city at night have you that peaceful yet lively atmosphere that made you look at everything in awe. There was simply too much things one could write about and many places surrounding Liyue to paint, but none of them really sparked that motivation.

It was only when you took a walk outside of Liyue, that you found your spark. In the field full of glaze lilies, there was a woman, alone, in Liyue esque clothing. She had hair that was white as the snow in Dragonspine and eyes that was the colour of a phoenix and full of love and life. Your heart pounded against your chest like never before. She was alluring.

You took a step closer but the sound of grass bring crumpled upon made her alert and her reaction to the sound was faster than a normal person, like she was a warrior on full alert. "Who are you?" she asks sternly and her soft gaze became sharp as soon as her eyes landed on you.

"Oh, um, sorry to alert you," you started, "I was just passing by when I saw you and um.." You didn't say what you were thinking- her looking beautiful- to save yourself from embarrassment and from the- what would have been- suspicious gaze on you.

"Oh, is that so?" she says and starts to inspect you from head to toe, taking every little details of you. "Hm, it doesn't look like you're from Liyue. Are you an adventurer?"

"Ah, you can say that.." You scratch the back of your head shyly. "I'm travelling across Teyvat for inspiration." The lady hums, bringing her fingers on her chin. "So, I'm assuming you're here for inspiration?" she clarifies herself and you nod. A smile forms on her lips. "Not a lot come by this place as there are many monsters and that there are glaze lilies that can already be found within the city."

She then stood up and turns her full body to you. "Then, I shall be leaving so I can give you the scenery to help inspire you," she says and bows politely, excusing herself from your sight. You watched as her figure disappears from your sight, returning to the city. When you turned around, the scenery before you felt different. It felt sort of lonely and empty without the lady who basked in the sunlight and that spark suddenly died as soon as your eyes landed on it.

You decided to call it a day out in the wilderness and return back to the safety of the city, but not before seeing something glimmer in the midst of flowers under the sun's light. You walked closer and see a jewelry just sitting there and you presumed that it was the lady's so you picked it up, but since she was far gone, you can't hope to catch up to her, so you just hope that you two will meet again.

On the next day, you found Luhua Pool and decided to paint the scenery. It was very beautiful indeed so you sat there and painted away. As you were painting, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to the lady from yesterday.

She was a local which means you would see her somewhere in the city. However, she didn't look like a simple worker of the local stores or restaurants which meant that you can't simply walk into buildings and expect her to be there.

You still remember of the jewelry that you found and rummage your satchel for it. It was kept well inside a small box that you bought not soon after returning to the city. You suddenly pictured the white-haired female, alone, in that field of flowers, looking so beautiful that it took your breath away.

Subconsciously, you picked up a new canvas and paintbrush and spent that day painting the scene from yesterday with the best of your memories. The field itself was pretty, but it was her that made it even more so beautiful than it already was. When you were finished, the sun was already setting in the horizon. You took a step back to look at your work and praised it. It was your favourite and the one where you put so much care and effort into. If only the lady was there to see it.

You packed your belongings inside your satchel and made your way down the mountain you were on. You felt that the sun was setting rather quickly because the moon and a couple of stars were already dusting the now dark sky and you were nowhere near the city.

Not being a vision user, it kind of sucked that you have to fear of hilichurls suddenly appearing before you. The thought alone made you clutch the strap of your satchel and began frantically looking around.

Then- to your dread- you see a bunch of hilichurls in the distance. Some were sleeping while others were awake and on guard; there was even a mitachurl which just made the whole thing much worse than it already is. You can make your way around the camp so that's what you did, not knowing there there was a sleeping hilichurl in the direction you were heading. It woke up and set the alarm for the others as well.

"Oh, for the love of..!" You gripped tightly on your satchel and made a run for it. Through the years of travelling, your legs gotten quite used to long travels, as well as running away from encountered hilichurls. It was something not worth bragging since it's for survival.

You looked back and see that a hilichurl with a fire bat-like weapon sped up than the rest. In a panic, you sprinted faster, but since you weren't looking forward, you didnt see the conveniently placed log.

You tripped over it and ended up scratching your chin from the impact. You turn your body and see that they the samachurls was no more than a metre away, ready to swing its axe. Closing your eyes, you expected for the worst.

When ten seconds passed and the strike didn't come, you open one eye and then both to see some sort of barrier in front of you. "Are you alright?" Upon hearing the voice, you looked over your shoulders and see the white-haired female of whom you just painted of not too long ago.

Not waiting for an answer, she casted little rocks that was strong enough to wipe all of the hilichurls out of sight and returned back to you, kneeling down to inspect your injuries. "You're lucky that I was on my way back to the city and found you," she states. "Archon forbids what might have happened to you if I were not around."

She gets up on her feet again and stretches out a hand for you to grab. "Come on, I'll treat your wounds at my place." You didn't think it through as you hastily accepted the offered hand and followed her back inside the city.

She lead you up a couple of stairs and to your shocking news, up to the Jade Chamber that you had heard so many praises about. "Um, excuse me, but isn't this place off limits for common folks?" you ask, your eyes darting across the place with a mix of uneasiness and excitement. "It is, usually, but since you are injured, I've made an exception."

The words caught you by surprise and stare at the back of the female who rummage through shelves and drawers, looking for the things she needed. "Wait, so, are you Lady Ningguang, the Tianquan of the Liyue Qixing!?" you exclaim. She hums, a small smile tugging her lips. "I see you're well informed of Liyue. Yes, I am and this is my home," she answers. Once she found the thing she wanted- which was a medical kit- she walks to where you were sitting and places the kit on the table beside you.

"This will sting so I apologise beforehand," she said and took out a cotton, dabbing some kind of ointment on it. She gently cups your face with her free hand and tilts it upwards before placing the cotton on the bottom of your chin.

She wasn't lying when it would sting and you hissed at the sudden stinging pain you felt. She apologises again before doing it a couple more times. "There, that should heal up in no time," she says as soon as she pulls away.

You watched her quietly from your seat, mesmerized by the sight of her as she cleans up. "Beautiful." Before you could comprehend what came out from underneath your breath, Ningguang heard it and looks at you with a baffled look. "I beg your pardon?"

You realized what you said and shook your head hastily. "A, ah, did I say that out loud?" you ask, more to yourself. I-it's just that.. Um, I really think you're beautiful, Lady Ningguang and I hope that we could meet more often.." You scratched your cheek, averting your gaze from the Tianquan.

There was a brief awkward silence which made you kinda wish that you hadn't said what you said just a few moments ago. Then, "Thank you," she says. You look up and see her smiling. "I.. I do like the thought of knowing someone outside of working matters."

Your eyes glimmered in happiness that soon reached your lips. "R-really? Then, I'm happy," you said and remembered something the slipped your mind. "Oh, right, I was wondering if it would be alright to ask what you were doing out so late?"

"Oh, I was looking for something that I had dropped yesterday. I had thought I dropped it by the fields.." she answers. You knew what that 'something' is and asked, "Are you perhaps looking for a jewelry?" She looks at you with hope in her eyes. "Do you know where it is?"

You nodded and look through your satchel. "I found it lying on the grass and kept it safe, thinking that it was yours," you say in honest and pulled out the box it was kept in before walking towards her, stretching the box towards her. "I'm glad to have stumbled upon you so that I could return it to you."

Ningguang smiles and accepts the box. "Thank you," she says in a gentle tone. "By the way, I haven't gotten your name, have I?" You shook your head. "My name is (Y/N)," you answered.

"Well, (Y/N), I hope we can become great friends," she says to which you happily nod. "Me too."

---

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whosaskingwrites · 3 years

Text

Glass Heart (Oikawa x Reader x Kageyama)

A/N: This was the only request that came in for the follower event which by the way I've extended so its still open. So thanks for requesting this it was fun to write! Full disclosure the Akaashi b-day one was supposed to be uploaded first but I haven't finished it yet so...Also I went a little feral on this cause its the first ever request on the blog 💞. I even added it a small thing from one of my favorite movie series. Also I don't know if this is exactly what you wanted but I did my best to fulfill the request. Some things are changed in it but this is the final product.

Details: 9.4 pages 3,305 words (she long)

WARNINGS: Mentions of blood, angst, heartbreak, there's a happy end for Mc tho, manga spoilers??? Kinda not really???

Date: December 7th, 2020

Theme: Glass Heart Syndrome- Similar to the Hanahaki disease, when a person goes through heart break it causes their heart to literally form into glass and break. It will result in the person never being able to love again or die through the agonizing process. The symptoms include dark cracks on the chest stemming from the heart that spread and grow darker the worse the heartbreak is, the victim becomes physically weaker, and they’ll cough up blood. (Taken directly from the request)

Sachi- means miracle. Thank you @msecchi for requesting 💞 hope you enjoy!

Nightmares.

That's what the doctor said to him. "You can't sleep because of the nightmares!" Thats what he was told by them. For ten years doctors told him its just nightmares. But he knew it wasn't nightmares no...He was being haunted by her. Dead and cold e/c eyes stared at him from the darkness as they dulled. A faint shattering sound accompanied it as he watched shards of glass fall.

His heart was cracked black lines trailed against his skin hidden under his shirt. It had cracked all those years ago when he thought she was gone. She had recovered though it was a miracle really that she had. After all he was there when her heart shattered.

Hanamaki and Matsukawa still looked at him with disgust. They supported him sure but they only supported him because they wanted him out of Japan. Iwaizumi didn't look at him the same either, there was always something hidden behind his gazes. He could take the anger from them though it was worth it to know she was still alive.

He loved her. He knew that, Iwaizumi knew it. For ten years he asked Iwaizumi how she was doing "she's fine," was the only response he got. Now he could see for himself if she was fine. The Olympics were here and he was currently on his way to Japan with his team. It'd been a long time since he'd been back. Almost nine years now but he wasn't worried. He curled into the plane seat shutting his eyes and trying to catch some nightmare free sleep...

___________________________________________

"Y/n-chan! You look really pretty today!" He threw an arm around the h/cette's shoulder pulling her roughly into his side. She stumbled a bit peering up at him through long eyelashes. "Can you let me go please Oikawa-san?" She asked shifting to pry his arm off. He held on though and gasped "Eh? Why Y/n-chan!" He shrieked and just like that his arm was thrown off her shoulder and Iwaizumi stood there.

"Dumbass she doesn't like people touching her!" He yelled flicking him in the forehead. He whined and rubbed at the spot "Iwa-chan you're supposed to be on my side!" Iwaizumi simply shook his head before turning towards Y/n. "So Y/n have you decided on a high school yet?" She merely hummed "I was thinking Shiratori-" "No you can't go there!" Oikawa cut off quickly throwing himself infront of her.

"...Can I finish my sentence?" She asked sending a pointed look towards him. "Please do," Iwaizumi supplied as he covered Oikawa's mouth. "Shiratorizawa but my cousin convinced me to go to Aoba Johsai instead," She finished sending a pointed look towards him. He pried Iwaizumi's hand off to speak "You're going to Aoba Johsai!?" She laughed then smiling at him and he felt his heart rate speed up in response.

It'd been a few months since then he was a third year now and her a sparkling brand new first year at Aoba Johsai. Since day one he'd been around her constantly. Walking her to her classes or sitting with her at lunch sometimes bringing her an extra piece of Milk Bread. Of course the team knew he liked her it stared them in the face everyday. He'd smile at his phone everytime she texted or his face would flush slightly when she complimented him. Not that she ever noticed but they knew she was falling to.

She no longer rejected physical touches from him she leaned into them instead. She always smiled at him whenever he appeared in her line of sight. She even started using his first name! Halfway through the school year everybody knew Oikawa Tooru and L/n Y/n were attached at the hip. Fangirls confessed all the time but he rejected them without fail thinking of the girl with s/c skin and e/c eyes. He wanted her confession but it never came to him. He got tired of the team making fun of him one day. They always picked on him so why should they be allowed to do it when it involves the girl he liked?

"Oh please! Like I even care about her! She's getting boring anyway i'll just move on to a new girl. One that's more exciting and not some bright-eyed first year," He had said crossing his arms and looking up indignantly. "Oikawa...You don't mean that," Iwaizumi said slowly looking at him. "Of course I do. She's boring now," He pushed refusing to crack under the pressure.

Of course how was he going to remember that all of this went down a minute before she was supposed to walk into the gym to watch him practice like everyday? He really should have remembered that if he had things might have gone differently. Practice had ended as usual though it had been quieter than he remembered. Something was missing and he knew it.

He shrugged it off as he left the locker room walking towards the front gates to wait for Iwaizumi with Y/n. "Hey Y/n-chan what'd you think of practice?" He waited a moment to see her rush around the corner in a flurry of excitement but it never happened. "Y/n-chan..?" Rounding the corner of the gate he saw the spot they normally waited in was empty no sign of the beautiful girl anywhere.

There was however a piece of paper trapped against the bars. It was a small thing easily loseable but the way it was crumpled and felt soft meant the paper he held was old and probably had been thrown away. He opened it slowly and glared at what he saw on it. 'Kageyama Tobio xxxx-xxx-xxxx' What were the odds he'd find his enemies number here of all places? Astronomically low he knew as he chucked the paper away.

Iwaizumi had come up then pushing him along while he struggled. "Iwa-chan! Y/n-chan isn't here yet!" Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. "She went home. She was feeling sick today," He responded easily while Oikawa's nose crinkled. That was impossible he'd been with her all day except for in class. She was perfectly normal in every way today, he'd have know she was sick.

Maybe if he said something to Iwaizumi instead of keeping quiet he'd have seen her and fixed everything. Maybe if he had made them stop at the park like he did everyday instead of being consumed by his thoughts he might have seen a familiar h/c haired girl sitting with a boy that had blackish blue hair and vibrant blue eyes.

He might have seen the boy give her his jacket and a carton of milk when she started crying. Or how he awkwardly patted her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. But instead the duo walked on with him thinking about how to ask Y/n why she lied. Of course for the next two weeks he wouldn't receive a response since she avoided him at every turn.

Eventually though he cornered her right outside the gym after she dropped off Hanamaki's water bottle. He didn't question why she had it or the black and blue jacket she was wearing that was slightly too big for her. Instead he ran after her stopping her before she got to far. "Hey! Y/n-chan why are you avoiding me!?" He shouted towards her.

She and everyone else nearby stopped people whispered as they looked at them but he didn't care. He watched her turn and froze as dull e/c eyes met his own. "Just speeding things up. After all you said I was boring Oikawa-san,"

___________________________________________

He jolted awake sitting up rapidly as he tried to slow down his racing heart. "Hey you okay man?" He turned his head looking at his teammates who looked startled. "Yeah I'm fine...Just a bad dream," He smiled at them before looking out the window. Japan was spread out below them lights twinkling in the dark.

The smile fell from his face as they landed replaced with a sense of displacement and nostalgia. He gripped his bags tightly tomorrow he would be facing his biggest rivals on the court all to see who would win the gold. He didn't have time to think about what happened to the girl he used to know.

___________________________________________

"Wha- who said you were boring?" He asked stepping towards her. She took a step back in response "You did. Two weeks ago when I went to the gym. I heard you," His eyes widened dramatically as he looked at her "No- That's out of context!" He tried to save it but she just shook her head.

"Don't lie Oikawa-san," Her eyes became more dull as she spoke. "Don't- dont call me Oikawa please. Dont do that please," he begged reaching out towards her. She coughed then putting a hand up to her mouth. As she did the sleeve of the jacket rolled down and he saw them. The thin black lines trailing across her skin and decorating her pale s/c arm.

"Y/n-chan...," he trailed off as his eyes focused on her arm and the thin trail of blood coming from her mouth. She smiled but it wasn't anything. Only a slight twitch upwards no warmth behind it. "Its okay Oikawa-san you helped me you know?" He paused as he looked at her "Helped you..?" She nodded slowly "Yeah! You helped me realize that love is worthless so thank you," He could only watch in horror as the black veins spread further and widened being accompanied by a cracking sound.

Like someone had thrown a ball threw a glass window she collapsed at the same time a shattering sound filled the air. A girl nearby screamed as Y/n fell while someone else yelled for emergency services. "Y/n!" He was shoved backwards as Hanamaki and Matsukawa ran past him.

"What happened!?" Matsukawa yelled as he lifted her head. He looked at him while blood dripped from her mouth. "I- I don't know. S-she said she heard me a-and-," Hanamaki whipped around at that "She heard you!?" He stood blood had left a red stain on his white track pants.

"If she dies from this I will never forgive you," Hanamaki hissed. "Makki she's- she's not breathing!" Matsukawa screamed pressing a hand on her heart. Paramedics rushed into the area skittering around as the pushed Matsukawa and Hanamaki away. "What happened?" One of the medics asked. "Glass Heart Syndrome," Hanamaki answered back glaring at Oikawa as he spoke.

"We need to get her out of here right away! Lets go!" The medic had run back over towards Y/n helping to pick her up onto the gurney. They paramedics left quickly with her denying Hanamaki and Matsukawa's attempt to go with her. They raced into the gym grabbing their stuff before running back out. Hanamaki shoved Oikawa out of the way and down to the ground as they ran.

___________________________________________

He sighed as he jolted awake for the third time in a row. This was ridiculous she wasn't even dead so why couldn't he sleep without seeing dead e/c eyes? Guilt that's what Iwaizumi told him. He tilted his head to see the time five am was what the clock told him. He needed to meet the rest of the team at seven thirty so he changed and went running.

The streets he ran on seemed so familiar but so different to him. Of course he stopped at the nearby park it was similar to the one he used to stop at with Iwaizumi and Y/n. Those trips long since abandoned after what he did his eyes flittered over the park until they landed on a h/cette. His eyes widened as he looked at her so similar to the last time he saw her.

Slightly taller and figure slightly rounder perfect to him but it hurt to realize it was a pregnancy bump. The h/c hair on her head sparkled and her e/c eyes glittered with a warmth he hadn't seen in years. He began walking towards her almost starting to run until a voice stopped him. "Y/n!" He stopped immediately snapping his head to the side. Barreling towards her was a male with silver and black hair and golden eyes sparkling. He knew who that was...Bokuto Koutarou wing spiker for the MSBY Black Jackals and he was his opponent in the upcoming game.

He slunk closer and it was then that he noticed a little girl hugged to Bokutos chest. She couldn't have been older than five from what he could see but he noticed that running through the girls h/c hair were streaks of silver. He certainly didn't expect her to take the little girl from him and kiss his cheek. His shock was palpable when she reached a hand up to run through his hair. A thin sliver band with a small diamond on it glared back at him glittering in the sun.

Bokuto had lifted his own hand to run it through the small girl's hair the silver came through more prominently as well as exposing dark navy almost black streaks he hadnt seen before. The little girls head turned revealing a single e/c eyes. His eyes however zoned in on the gold band on Bokuto's finger. He was excitedly talking to her while she shook her head and started walking off. He watched Bokuto's eyes widen comically as the wing spiker ran off after her.

He stood frozen as he watched the scene anybody could see a cute family scene. That should have been him handing her their kid not Bokuto. But it wasn't him no it was someone else. So of course he called Iwaizumi to complain.

"Iwa! You didn't tell me Y/n was married to that- that wing spiker!?" He yelled into the phone while Iwaizumi scoffed. "One I shouldnt tell you anything about Y/n since you ruined that. And two thats not your business," He returned the statement with a scoff of his own. "Not my business? Shes married! You know what Iwa. I'll win her back," Iwaizumi laughed then it was laced with disbelief much like his voice was.

"Sorry you are gonna try to win back a married woman who has a kid and another one on the way?" Iwaizumi was right that sounded wrong out loud but he couldn't back down. "Yes! I'm gonna win her back from that Bokuto guy!" Iwaizumi snorted "Sorry how'd you figure they were married?" Iwaizumi asked with a laugh "I saw the rings and her daughter has silver hair like him!" He stated indignantly.

Iwaizumi did bust out laughing then "Silver hair? Must have dyed it then," Iwaizumi mumbled quietly. "Iwa what are you going on about?" He asked not being able to hear the male on the other line clearly. "Oh nothing just suprised you don't pay more attention to your sworn enemies," He called uninterested. "I pay enough attention to know they're on the same team and will be playing against me," He hissed and Iwaizumi laughed. "I gotta go. See you later Oikawa," He hung up and Oikawa sighed as he put the phone away.

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"Oh are you all here for Ms. L/n?" The team turned eyes landing on a doctor with short brown hair and hazel eyes. He was clearly foreign but they didn't have any questions other than about her. Looking at them all he could see the fear in their faces and sighed. "Well its a miracle really that she lived. One of the worst cases of Glass Heart Syndrome I've seen in years," Oikawa froze as he felt the numerous glares on his back.

"Thank you doctor...?" Hanamaki walked forward looking at the man. "McCoy. Leonard McCoy," He said holding out a hand. "Thank you Doctor McCoy. Can we see her?" Hanamaki shook his hand while the doctor sighed. "Im afraid not. She still needs some time to recover we're going to try some beta blockers but until we try them I can't allow you guys in just incase," He said turning back around and leaving just like that.

The next week was spent waiting for the news. It came during practice one day for them "The beta blockers worked. She starts school again tomorrow at a new school," Matsukawa said as he walked back into the gym. The team cheered in excitement "Wait a new school? Shes transferring?" He asked stopping everyone while Hanamaki scoffed "she lived which was a fucking miracle and now you want her back here at the school that she almost died at with the person who almost killed her?" He flinched at the tone.

___________________________________________

The game had ended with Argentina's victory them winning the gold. He smirked at the wing spiker on the other side who only tilted his head in confusion silver hair following the movement. Iwaizumi smacked him as he approached "Stop looking at Bokuto like that," He said with a sigh. "I won against him and now I'll do it again," He was determined as he huffed. "Also Iwa how could you! Did you even know they got married!?" Iwaizumi scoffed in disbelief.

"Of course I knew she got married. I was a groomsmen along with Ushijima and Bokuto. Hinata was the best man," He processed the words "Sorry did you say Bokuto was a grooms-," before he could continue his questioning the patter of running feet interrupted him. "Daddy!" He snapped his head to the side seeing the little girl again only this time his jaw dropped.

The girl was pulled into a pair of arms which he followed to their owner. Kageyama's side profile glared back at him as he smiled down at the little girl. From this side he saw her other eye was a vibrant blue shade and sparkled in joy. "Hi angel what's going on here?" He lifted the girls hair in his finger and Oikawa saw the silver band around his ring finger while silver hair slipped through his fingers. "Uncle Kashi took me to the hair salon while he was watching me! I got my hair done to match Uncle Bo!" The little girl threw her arms up with a smile.

"Eh? Why not Uncle Tsumu kid?" Atsumu had asked joining the conversation. The girls nose crinkled "Uncle Bo is better than you!" Atsumu threw a hand over his heart and gasped mocking hurt. "Sachi Kageyama what did I tell you about running off?" Everyone turned seeing Y/n walking over with her arms crossed Akaashi stood next to her carrying her bag of stuff a ring of gold stood out prominently on his finger. "M'sorry mama," The girl now identified fully as Sachi frowned looking down with big eyes.

"Sachi. Just because Uncle Bo's sad face doesn't work on me doesn't mean yours will," She tapped her foot twice and Oikawa felt it the black veins trailing on his skin getting bigger and darker. He could hear the crack in his heart as Kageyama leaned over to kiss Y/n. The two of them fitted together perfectly while Bokuto bounded over to Akaashi and threw an arm around his shoulders. "Alright we get it. You two and your miracle are cute!" Hinata claimed as he shoved the two apart.

Y/n laughed as she looked up her eyes flittered over the other team stopping on Oikawa for a moment. He froze under her gaze. The warmth in her eyes faded replaced by the same empty and dead eyes he'd grown used to. The group had headed towards the exit as he felt the cracks happen rapidly. The last thing he could remember was the loud sound of something glass shattering before he collapsed to the ground.

#haikyu #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#whosaskingangst #oikawa x reader #oikawa angst #oikawa tooru #kageyama x reader #kageyama fluff #kageyama tobio

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