MCYT/DSMP Oneshots - Male/NB Reader

↳ ❤ 𝑵𝒐 𝑭𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔

[2300+ words]
[He/Him pronouns]

[Squid Game AU: Blood mentions, undescriptive death, furry mention, possible other triggers be careful!]

{《☆》}

You worried your lip between your teeth, leaning back against the coarse fabric of your bed. Teams were already forming, people huddled in their own unconsciously divided sections watching stragglers warily. The next game was set to start soon and you hadn't joined a team, an unsettled pit in your stomach every time you thought about picking a side.

There were two large groups, one set of people referring to themselves as "L'Manburg" and another calling themselves "Dream's Ensemble" or something similar. Each leader was a stark division from the other, one team lead by the first number, 001, and the last number, 486, though you didn't remember who had which.

Your own number, 243, was smack dab in the middle of both of the numbers. In a way, the rest of the stragglers considered you their de-facto leader with no one else taking up the mantle. There weren't many who hadn't chosen a side but there was still enough people for you to feel so small for the shoes you were trying to fill.

You tore a piece of your bread apart, shoving it in your mouth with nothing else to do. It wasn't amazing bread, not warm and soft and slightly buttery, but it could've been worse. You've had people give you worse. You took a good look over the people spanning the beds around you. They weren't trustworthy, not truly, you didn't know half of their names and the rest of them were a blubbering mess of weak spots. Weak spots got you killed.

Frowning, you ripped off another piece of bread. As you shove it in your mouth. the disgusting taste of paper hit your tongue. You've eaten enough scrap paper in times of desperation to know the taste of ink smearing your tongue. Spitting it out, you wipe at your tongue with your sleeve and grimace at the slobbery piece of paper in your bread.

'Circle. Triangle. Star. Umbrella.'

It was scrawled in perfect print. on such tiny paper that it was a wonder you ever noticed it. You glanced around, curious if anyone else noticed the odd taste. No, nothing. No one had hunched into themselves reading a tiny pink slip. You were the only one to notice.

Without thinking, you shoved the paper in your mouth. It wasn't a good taste but you had a feeling the slip had something to do with the next challenge. Shoving the rest of the bread in your mouth, you chugged the rest of your milk and wiped your mouth. The next challenge would be starting soon, you should probably try to make some alliances, however strained.

"Hi," Someone walked up to you before you could move, white-rimmed sunglasses pushed high up their nose. Their light brown hair was bouncing with their steps. "I don't think we've talked yet."

"No," You affirm, briefly looking over their shoulder and catching the stone-faced leader staring back. Goosebumps trailing your neck, you twist your head up to look in 404's eyes from your low position on your bed. "I'm Y/N. No last name."

"George, last name not needed." They said, lips quirked up with amusement. "So, I'm only asking because Dream told me to but would you like to join the Dream SMP."

"No," You said without needing to think. You could join, but they had a target painted on their back by L'Manburg and it was drama unneeded. "I appreciate the offer but I'd rather stay a neutral party for now."

George didn't look surprised at all. "I thought so," he said, solidifying your guess. "You don't seem the type to instantly join a fight. You'd watch and wait for the right moment to join. Dream didn't think so but he's a stupid American."