𝕄ℂ𝕐𝕋 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕆𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕙𝕠𝕥𝕤

ℝ𝕒𝕟𝕓𝕠𝕠 ~ 𝕁𝕒𝕚𝕝𝕙𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕖 ℝ𝕠𝕔𝕜

Did I say the next oneshot would be Grian-centric? Yes.

Did this idea then pop into my head? Yes.

Am I prioritising this because I've now become weirdly fascinated by Ranboo despite never watching any of his streams? Yes.

Enjoy.

MCYT: Ranboo

SMP or AU: L'manberg AU 

Type: Fluff

Pronouns: She/Her

Notes: Y/N = Your Name. (Also the "design" for Ranboo in this will be more human except for the red and green eyes and his hair is half-black, half-white).

Premise: After being thrown in prison for treason against King Dream, you meet your cell buddy. Doesn't remember what crime he committed, obnoxiously tall, and all around weird... But strangely endearing. (Loosely based on Wilbur and Tommy's first meeting in my book Through It All)

Trigger warnings: Excessive swearing and mentions of blood/mild injury

Y/N's POV

"I swear to God you better get these fucking hands off me right now!" I struggled tirelessly to no avail, desperately trying to get their iron grips off my wrists.

"Shut it, traitor." I rolled my eyes, having definitely never heard that one before. I forced my limp legs to uncurl, attempting to brace against the ground to stop moving, but they wouldn't cooperate. The guards were dragging me a few inches above the floor so I couldn't do that exact thing.

"Don't test me you bastards, I will kill every single last one of you!" I warned as the corridor got darker. The torches were becoming more spaced apart as I was pulled deeper underground. Only the nicest cell for a revolutionary scumbag like me, I thought bitterly. "I'll kill you all and I'll keep your fucking skulls as trophies!" Violent words I would never follow through on, but I refused to let myself be seen as weak in any way. Even if that meant unreasonable threats.

I was done with not being taken seriously. Maybe that's what had convinced me to join Wilbur's rebellion in the first place. I hadn't been high up in the ranks and had only spoken to the brunet man a handful of times. Unfortunately these days, they were arresting anyone wearing one of the iconic blue coats.

And I wore mine with pride.

"Enjoy the decoration, bitch." The guard holding my left arm spat savagely. The guard in front selected a rusty key from a ring of many, slotting into a lock I was convinced hadn't been used in several years and turning it. The metal grinded together with a jarring grate that hurt my ears.

I was unceremoniously thrown in a cell.

The minute I hit the ground I was up again, rattling the bars and screaming nonsense at the guards walking the opposite way. I slammed my palm against the slats, wincing with pain as I did.

"You bastards! You fucking sick bastards don't just walk away from me!" I was becoming more and more acutely aware of the exhaustion in my body, and the few injuries on me. "Jesus Christ." I muttered, stumbling blindly back until I hit a wall. I slid down it slowly.

"H-hello?" I turned in the vague direction of the voice, vision swimming slightly with my previously repressed tears. Had to keep up my tough appearance for the guards. I couldn't see the person who spoke.

"Oh a roommate. Nice." I chuckled to myself, the worst time to laugh in the world.

I then promptly passed out.