Traitor [DreamSMP x Reader]

[7]

Arrows tore through the orange sky, whizzing past my head as we fought.

"Fundy, right!"

I jumped to the right, ducking, and earning a searing pain in my ear. As blood started to drip from the tear, I looked up to glare at George with his iconic glasses and smirk.

I swung my sword at him, the sound of metal clashing only background noise compared to the chaos unfolding around me.

As George blocked my attack, he twisted his sword to knock mine to the ground. I pinned my ears against my head defensively, baring my fox-like teeth.

With another smirk, George raised his sword to deal a blow most likely to kill me. The screeching of metal against metal echoed in my ears as a shadow ran in front of me, blocking my view of George's figure looming over me.

"Wilbur!" I gasped in relief, wasting no time to grab my sword once more. Wilbur fought the man with accuracy. "I got you, son!"

"SMP, retreat!" Dream's voice rang with surprising volume across the battlefield, catching everybody's attention. George gave one last smirk to Fundy before sprinting towards the SMP.

Cheering erupted from the L'Manburg men. "We won!" Wilbur cheered, raising his bloodied sword in the air, the cheers growing louder.

As the high of the victory slowly wore off, Wilbur began walking over to every one of the soldiers, checking their wounds.

"Fundy? Any wounds?"

"Nah, I'm fine," I shrugged, knowing full well that blood was dripping down my face, blurring the sight in one of my eyes.

"Your ear is bleeding pretty bad."

"Wounds to the ears do that, but they're no big deal," I smiled, wiping away some of the blood on my face with the sleeve of my uniform. Wilbur nodded, padding away to check the others.

Around ten minutes later, when everybody had gathered things left on the battlefield, Wilbur raised his hand in the air, gaining the others' attention.

"We should be heading back! Tubbo, help Tommy, since his wounds are deep, and Fundy, help Y/n."

I looked back to get a look at Y/n. I hadn't seen them since the battle had broken out. Their wounds were deep, but in places where I knew no major arteries were. They would scar, but they would most definitely not die.

I offered a hand as Y/n walked/stumbled over to be, for them to take it hesitantly, wrapping their arm around my shoulders for support.

"Off back home!" Wilbur shouted.