#Team dynamics

[aventurineswife]

So, in one of episodes of Spy x Family, during one of Yor's missions, her butt was shot which resulted in her being constantly grumpy from pain, she couldn't tell her husband Loid about it and husband himself couldn't figure out.

So, my request, some group of people tried to attack reader (either to catch her, during one of the missions or attempt to assassinate), they managed to destroy a group, but one of still alive members attempted to kill them, but shoots in the reader's butt instead, which results to them being in pain and constantly refusing to sit down, but they didn't want to confess as it's too embarrassing for them. Request for Kafka, Jing Yuan, Aventurine, Blade, Feixiao, Silver Wolf and Firefly. (Can be read as platonic or romantic)

Through Pain, We Laugh

Tags: Kafka x Reader, Blade x Reader, Silver Wolf x Reader, Firefly x Reader, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Team Dynamics, Embarrassment, Found Family, Mild Injuries, Light Angst, Banter.

Warnings: Minor injury description, mild language, brief mentions of gunfire and violence.

Kafka always carried herself with poise, even in the face of danger. When a group of mercenaries ambushed you during a mission, her calm, calculated demeanor turned the chaos into a graceful symphony of destruction. She took down most of the attackers, making them drop their weapons and stand like obedient puppets.

But as you finished off the last assailant, a desperate grunt hidden among the rubble fired one last shot. The bullet hit its mark: your rear. The sharp pain made you yelp, but you quickly covered it with a cough, unwilling to let Kafka see you falter.

She turned to you, her eyes narrowing. "Are you alright, darling? You’re limping a bit."

You waved her off, refusing to meet her gaze. "Just a scratch. Let’s move."

Kafka smirked knowingly but didn’t press further. Yet, as the mission progressed, you found yourself increasingly irritable. The throbbing pain made sitting impossible, and standing still was no better. During a stakeout, Kafka finally addressed the elephant in the room.

"You’ve been pacing for the past ten minutes. What’s wrong?" she asked, leaning against the wall with her signature grace.

You froze. "Nothing. Just restless."

Her smile widened, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You’re a terrible liar. Did one of those grunts actually manage to hurt you?"

"N-no!" you blurted, too quickly.

She stepped closer, her voice a silky whisper. "Oh, I see. You’re too embarrassed to admit it, aren’t you? Let me guess—lower body, perhaps?"

Your flushed silence was answer enough. Kafka chuckled, a rich, amused sound. "I won’t press you further, but next time, don’t let pride get in the way of your health. We wouldn’t want you too sore to enjoy the spoils of victory."

Her wink made your cheeks burn hotter than the bullet wound, but you knew she’d keep your secret—for now.

Blade was no stranger to danger. He was always the first to step into a fight, his cracked sword cleaving through enemies with precision. During the ambush, he moved like a shadow, dispatching attackers before they even realized he was there.

You held your own, but one assailant got lucky. The moment you turned your back, a gunshot rang out, and sharp pain bloomed in your backside. You stumbled but quickly straightened, refusing to show weakness.

Blade noticed your wince but said nothing, his eyes briefly flicking to you before returning to the battlefield. Once the last enemy fell, he sheathed his sword and walked over.

"You’re hurt," he said bluntly, his gaze piercing.

"It’s nothing," you replied through gritted teeth.

He raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You’re favoring your left side. What happened?"

"I said it’s fine," you snapped, your irritation fueled by both pain and embarrassment.

Blade’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes softened—just slightly. "If you’re injured, it’s better to address it now. Pride won’t stop infection."

You bit back a groan as the pain flared again. "It’s... not serious. Just leave it."

To your surprise, Blade didn’t push further. Instead, he turned and started walking. "Suit yourself. But if you collapse later, don’t expect sympathy."

His dry tone was infuriating, but the slight smirk you caught as he turned away told you he knew exactly what had happened—and he wasn’t letting you off the hook.

Silver Wolf treated every mission like a level in her favorite game. This one had been particularly fun—an ambush filled with “noobs��� who underestimated her hacking skills and combat prowess. With her “aether editing” ability, she turned the tide easily, and you were right there beside her, holding your own.

That is, until a stray bullet hit you square in the rear. You bit your tongue to keep from crying out, your pride refusing to let Silver Wolf see your pain.

When the dust settled, she turned to you, grinning. "That was sick! You okay, though? You’re walking funny."

"Fine," you muttered, trying to play it cool.

She tilted her head, her purple glasses catching the light. "Really? 'Cause it looks like you’re trying not to sit on a spike."

"I’m fine," you repeated, more forcefully this time.

Silver Wolf raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Alright, whatever. But if you’re gonna keep standing during our post-mission chill time, I’m definitely gonna roast you for it."

You grumbled under your breath, refusing to meet her gaze as you leaned awkwardly against a wall. As she pulled out her game console and plopped onto the ground, she smirked up at you.

"By the way," she said casually, not looking up from her screen, "next time you take a bullet to the butt, just say so. I could’ve hacked their aim, y’know."

Your face turned beet red, and Silver Wolf’s laughter echoed through the room.

The ambush had been swift and chaotic, leaving you and Firefly back-to-back in a flurry of gunfire and explosions. The Stellaron Hunter’s sharp instincts saved you both more than once, her hair catching the light as she darted through the battlefield like a ghost.

The last attacker, desperate and cornered, aimed his weapon recklessly. Firefly moved to block, but the bullet veered off course, striking you in the most humiliating place imaginable.

You hissed in pain, staggering. Firefly turned immediately, her eyes filled with concern. “Are you hurt?”

“No!” you blurted, too quickly. “It’s nothing! Let’s just… move on.”

Firefly’s brow furrowed, but she nodded, respecting your privacy. However, as the mission progressed, your behavior became impossible to ignore. You avoided sitting, leaned against walls in odd positions, and grimaced every time you took a step.

“Okay,” Firefly said finally, crossing her arms. “What’s wrong? Don’t say ‘nothing.’ I’ve seen you dodge Swarm projectiles more gracefully than this.”

You sighed, heat rising to your cheeks. “It’s… personal.”

Firefly’s gaze softened. “You don’t have to tell me, but if it’s serious, we should get it treated. I won’t judge.”

Her sincerity caught you off guard. While you still couldn’t bring yourself to admit the truth, her support made the pain a little more bearable.

Later, as you limped off to find a private place to rest, Firefly called out, her voice tinged with humor. “Just don’t make it worse, okay? The Hunters can’t afford to lose someone as stubborn as you.”

Her teasing smile reminded you that even in embarrassment, you weren’t alone.

[whumpdaydreamerx]

Caretaker or team member immediately hugging and latching onto Whumpee once they’ve been rescued or returned home.

Whumpee groaning or hissing at the pain from contact. Caretaker apologizing profusely, hurrying to let go. But Whumpee doesn’t budge, just holds on tighter. Tucking their face into Caretaker’s neck, reminded of the reason they endured their torture.

[ri-an-nie]

the Japanese Legal Defense (Combat) Team

introducing the ~*Japanese Legal Defense (Combat) Team*~

featuring:

A sword-wielding defense attorney,

a people-throwing judicial assistant,

an innocent defendant turned lawyer, victim of violence!

obligatory Kazuma smile at the end

[bleedingintogold]

The medic leaned over his captain, wiping away the sweat on his forehead with a damp cloth. The man himself was out cold, as he had been for the past day. Tan skin had become a pale shade and a strong body had been reduced to a limp shell of itself. Heavy breathing became the only thing that showed he was still alive and struggling to be.

He wasn't getting better.

The wound had festered and the infection must have gotten into his bloodstream. Medic had been too late to notice and the captain had been too occupied trying to keep as many of his men alive as he could whilst completing their mission. The platoon stopped advancing yesterday when their captain collapsed right in front of them.

But the general had had enough. One man wasn't enough reason to abandon their assignment.

"He can't even sit up by himself, sir! He won't survive if we-" "We aren't bringing him. He will stay here," "With all due respect sir, this platoon needs their medic with them-" "I said that your captain is staying here. Not you," The medic's heart dropped when the general's words started to register. He was being ordered to leave behind his captain. His brother by everything but blood. "Look at him, medic. I doubt he will still be alive by tommorow. You're wasting your supplies," "General! He isn't dead yet! He just needs time-" "Time that we do not have, soldier. We will move by sunrise tommorow. We are advancing without him,"

A small whine answered the general before the medic could, making both men turn to the weak body on the cot. The general sighs as he walks to the young man's side, placing a gentle hand on a too warm forehead. The captain's eyes were hardly open, but he was conscious and had heard the whole conversation. "I'm sorry, son. You were a good soldier and one of my best men. But this mission is of higher importance," "My men...take care of 'em, sir," "I will. For your own good, you need to let go. You don't need to hold on anymore, son. You've done your part," The medic's hand trembled as he watched the two high ranks.

"m' sorry, sir...dying...is not as easy as I thought," "I know. Which is why I will help you. You don't have to suffer like this anymore, son," The general said as he passed the medic a small packet of white powder. "Sir?" "It's cyanide. Mix some into water and feed it to him tonight," "You're...you're asking me to kill him, sir?" "He's in pain, soldier. You're going to do him a favour,"

The captain was partially conscious now but he had seen the powder. Medic made the mistake of meeting the captain's eyes, seeing the fear in them under the haze of sickness. "I will allow you to bury him properly before we depart. Make sure it is done by sunrise," the general said before leaving the tent.

-----

Medic cradled his captain's upper torso, the mixed concoction of poison ready in a canteen. The captain's head laid limp against Medic's shoulder. Medic noticed that his captain was trembling.

No, wait. It was him.

He was trembling.

A weak voice pulled the medic out of his haze. "Medic...I...I don't want to die," a voice he didn't recognize said, soft but shaky. "But...you're in...pain. You won't survive anyway-" "I don't wanna die...please...I'm scared..."

Medic put the canteen down, instead wrapping his arms tightly around his captain. The captain was built bigger than medic, but he seemed incredibly small in his brother's arms. "Okay. Okay. You're not going to die, alright? I'm not...I won't do it," "But...the orders..." "Fuck the orders. I am a medic. Your medic. My task is to keep the men alive, not kill them,"

The captain didn't answer, savouring the warmth of his brother holding him.

[cpt-winters]

Forced Surrender - Leader Whump

"I knew you'd come."

Whumper's lips curled into that familiarly sickening smile as the metal gate rolled back, creaking on its hinges as Leader approached.

"I'm here, so let them go," he ordered.

Whumper's fingers waved a vague motion to the henchmen behind, promptly followed by kicking and scrapping against the gravelled ground.

"Get the hell off me!" Teammate One shouted, jerking against their restraints.

Three froze in their tracks, eyes widening as they landed on Leader. "Leader? What are you.."

"We had a deal," Leader answered, steely gaze refusing to break under Whumper's tangible glee.

"What? No- You can't-"

He stood rigid as the henchmen pushed his team past him, holding Whumper's gaze as he got to his knees.

"Leader-" Teammate Two started, desperation seeping into their voice. "Leader, don't do this!"

He set his jaw, composing himself from his teammate's distant pleas as Whumper drew closer, cuffs in hand.

"Leader! Please!"

Leader let out a breath as he drew his wrists together, offering them up to Whumper. He closed his eyes as cold metal wrapped around his skin, the light click of the cuffs a death sentence.

[valenteal]

So Dabi and Toga joined the League together and Dabi and Compress work together really well, like know one another’s moves and can communicate great in battle. And Dabi is Tomura’s lieutenant and basically the guy actually in charge of planning and coordinating while Tomura’s got the vision and the resources. So I propose that the loyalty of the League is split between them. Cause like, what if Dabi joined and brought other recruits with him. Toga and Compress definitely, maybe Magne and Twice too. And that’s part of why Tomura lets him get away with so much and put him in charge of recruiting. Cause let’s be real, Dabi fries way too many people for him to keep that job if doesn’t already have some successes under his belt.

Anyway this post is a mess and I’m just gonna keep typing my train of thought about this and see where we end up now.

I just really love the partnership between Tomura and Dabi. It’s kinda hidden and definitely never explicitly stated, but Dabi is indisputably Tomura’s right hand man. Kurogiri follows his orders. But Tomura respects Dabi, and Dabi respects Tomura even if they suck at showing it. They listen to each other and are able to work together, sharing responsibility and trusting the other to be able to handle their shit. There’s still some friction of course, Tomura doesn’t trust Dabi’s interests to always align with his own and Dabi is only following Tomura because their interests align at the moment. And with like half the League being more loyal to Dabi than Tomura he’s gotta be a bit worried about a coup. That fear fades with time once he establishes that he actually cares about the league and shows it better than Dabi but it probably really affected their relationship at the beginning. Thus Tomura’s clumsy attempts to assert dominance over him

Also Dabi and Compress are totally tight. Pretty sure they were partners in crime before joining the league. Like imagine the possibilities with their quirks. Evidence disposal, theft, smuggling, intimidation, scams together the two of them could do anything! Compress has his anonymity, Dabi had his incredibly recognizable and scary face… they would be great.

[solar-eclippse]

One trope I really enjoy is "forced family". A group of misfits thrown into the same space or situation, expected to bond and have each other's backs, without knowing a single thing about the people around them, and completely unable to change their circumstances.

Starts out awkward - it's no fun if they click right away, but they learn to work together. Maybe they do find a close bond later down the line, maybe familiarity breeds resentment and they end up wanting to kill each other, or maybe they're still awkward, unsure of what to do, when they finally part ways.

[teamdarkweek]

Many of us have loved including things Rouge can teach Shadow and Omega about life and the world, but I think we should not neglect the things that they can teach her:

Shadow is possibly well versed in medical care and treatment due to his time on the Ark. He could be a fantastic nurse, if his bedside manners weren't so poor.

Omega has access to the internet at most times. He'd probably be really annoying about correcting her. Actually, maybe she shuts off the internet sometimes.

Shadow might have a large amount of world war ii/ early cold war knowledge, not often called on but still insightful.

Omega can read people's body language with hawk-like precision. Combined with her knowledge, they make a great team at scanning a room for anything susicious, providing he has the attention for it.

They are both excellent at intimidation. I think as time goes on she will use that tool more than manipulation/ buddying up to people to backstab them, as once her reputation is known she finds it harder to trick people

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1342

Submitted by @red-river-potato01 - thanks!

Character A is the black sheep of the team and isn't very well-liked by most of the others. Because of this they often lash out at the others since all they ever get is negative feedback. When the rookie Character B joins, A assumes they'll be like the others, especially when the team warns B about them. Yet to their surprise, B ignores all that and is nice to A. A isn't sure what to think, but they soon become very protective of B, enough so that they put themselves in harm's way for them...

[amityandeir]

"F1 is a team sport"

Yeah and it shouldn't be????

IN MY PERSONAL OPINION (putting this here so don't you dare bitch about it)

F1 should stop pushing the 1st and 2nd driver narrative so much and go back to actual competitiveness within the teams. It's all team orders this prioritizing one driver that when they should just put out a team of two drivers capable of fighting both the other teams and each other. It annoys me to no end, drivers like Checo, Oscar, Mark, Bottas etc. deserve to have their side of the team prioritise them and not be told to just shut up and take the scraps the team throws at them.

Yes there will probably always be a more dominant driver in a team, I'm not saying ignore that, but I'm saying have that driver race their teammate. If they can't even deal with that then tough luck, but it shouldn't mean we're disadvantaging their teammate to make up for it????

I've said it before, and I'll probs say it again a million times, I hate team orders, they should be forbidden. I want infighting in the teams and I think team rivalries should just be part of the sport.

Drivers like Max, Lewis, Michael or Seb dominated over their teammates and they would've (again imo) won even without the occasional teamorders, which just shows it can be done.

If I hear "but they have to maximize points for the team" or "but they have to support X driver in his fight for the championship" I will lose it. The team gets the same amount of points no matter who's in front most of the time. And sure the drivers should be supported in their fight, I fully agree with that, having their teammates do a bit of defensive driving etc., but NOT BY COMPLETELY THROWING ASIDE THEIR TEAMMATE.

Why is it so hard for teams to just treat drivers equally and give them the same support, obviously fitted to their situation, without disproportionately advantaging one of them???

And before people start saying that's not what the teams are doing, first of all that's still the way it's portrayed to us considering how people speak about drivers like Checo, and second of all just look at teams like McLaren, which yes has brought this rant on, who didn't even manage to not treat at least one of their drivers as an afterthought before they even got the balls to commit to a first and second driver dynamic.

[whump-in-the-closet]

My congrats on the follower milestone. For the whump ask thing, perhaps this dialogue?

“My dear Leader, you think you have all the choices right now but really you only have two. You or them? Choose carefully.l

thanks im continuously surprised by how many people put up with my shenanigans <2

cw: creative license was used for this prompt oops, branding, forced to choose, creepy whumper, prisoner whump, team whump, mentions of past torture, implied flogging, restraints and manhandling

Leader had stopped caring. About anything, really. So when the guards chained his hands above him, he let them.

He was past caring. He stared at the tiles with dead eyes. His heart pulsed slowly, each moment dragged out. It was funny, how quickly, everything could fall apart.

Very human fingers brought him out of his mind, grabbing his chin and forcing his face upwards. 

Leader stared at Supervillain. Once– it felt long ago, but it couldn’t have been that long– he would have jerked away from the touch. Snarled a curse. But now he simply couldn’t bring himself to care. So, he took it.

Some of that sentiment must have betrayed itself in Leader's expression because Supervillain's grip tightened, nails breaking skin. “Tired, hm?" They dropped the young man's chin and ran a hand through the strands, the touch deceptively soft before tightening. Supervillain yanked Leader's head up by his hair, forcing him to look straight ahead. "Pay attention."

Two guards brought in a cauldron of burning coals, an iron ominously sticking out. Leader again felt its phantom pain, his side throbbing under its memory. He winced. He couldn’t help it. That– that had hurt. For days. 

There was a brief flicker of sarcasm.

Been there, done that.

It had been a while since Supervillain had resorted to anything so violently painful.

He could take it. 

He’d taken worse. 

Still, Leader did not look at the iron. Or the coals. He stared straight ahead and tried to remember how breathing worked. 

Supervillain smiled down at him like they knew something he didn't. Once the thought appeared, he couldn’t get rid of it. Something was different. Bile worked its way up his throat.

Something was wrong. 

Leader suppressed a shudder.

Before he could take another breath, the other shoe dropped.

A fourth guard carried a bleeding figure into the room. She dropped her burden unceremoniously onto the cold tiles before the cauldron with the branding iron.

The captive's head hit the floor with a sickening thud. They didn’t move. 

Supervillain glanced from the new arrival to Leader, wondering idly when he would make the connection. 

Leader's eyes widened in horror.

Supervillain's smile lit up the room. "Ah, yes. Took you long enough to put two and two together." They leaned in to whisper in Leader's ear. "I found them...oh so alone. A shame, really."

To Leader, the world was spinning and it wouldn’t stop. His vision blurred. 

Surely the captive, with terrible lacerations down their back, barely conscious, visibly shaking– surely, that wasn’t, of all people, Whumpee. 

God. 

Leader made a strangled noise in his throat– a silent scream– like someone had punched him. 

Supervillain stepped back, more than pleased with themself, and beckoned to their guard. They whispered something and the guard nodded. 

Leader couldn’t rip his gaze away from the shaking form that was left of Whumpee. 

Oh.

Oh god.

Leader hadn’t realized he was crying until the tears blurred his vision. He had failed his team. He had failed at the one job he had.

Leader threw up then. His throat burned. Then again, so did his eyes. “Whumpee?” he whispered, the name barely loud enough to be heard. 

No response. 

“What did you do to them?” This too, was whispered. 

No one answered that, either. 

The guard grabbed Whumpee, hauling them to their feet roughly. They cried out when the guard's hands dug into the lashes on their arms.

Leader stiffened. “Let go of them.” Some of the old command worked its way into his voice. 

Supervillain lit a cigarette and flipped the lid of their lighter closed with a flick of their wrist. They nodded to the guard, ignoring Leader.

Immediately, two more guards grabbed Whumpee, shoving them to their knees and bending their arms to awkward angles behind their back. 

Whumpee flinched, shrinking away from their touch. "Please-- P-please don't---"

And Leader snapped. 

That was Whumpee they were manhandling. One of his team. Someone who had stood by him through thick and thin. Someone who had, once, trusted him.

Leader lunged forward. “Don’t touch them! Don’t–” another lunge, the chains digging into his wrists, “Touch them!” 

Supervillain exhaled a breath of smoke. “What an unusual display from you,'' Their voice was sharp, “Pull yourself together.” 

Leader did not pull himself together. He continued to yank against the restraints, all semblance of aloofness gone. “Supervillain, let them go! I’ll do anything. Please!” 

And he meant it. 

Supervillain crouched down beside Leader to exhale another breath of smoke. This time, in Leader's face. “My dear Leader, you think you have all the choices right now but really you only have two." They lowered their voice. "You or them?"

Leader paled to the color of bone. “You– you can’t be serious."

"You remember the branding iron, don't you?" Supervillain's smile was shark-like, bright in the darkness. “You know what that’s like.” They pressed a cold hand against Leader's abdomen, their nails digging into the sensitive skin.

The brand’s phantom pain spread through his entire rib cage, lacing around his bones and coating them, again, in fire. 

Leader stiffened, blood turning to ice in his veins. Fuck. His mouth went dry as he looked from Whumpee, limp in the guard's grip, to the branding iron, red-white against the coals. Again, the floor dropped out from below him, leaving him spiraling.

It took all of his strength to find his voice. "I'll take it."

Supervillain stood up. They grinned. "You know what? You've managed to fuck up my plans so many times...yes, I think I'd like to watch you fuck up for once."

Leader didn't understand. "W-what?"

Supervillain ruffled his hair, patchy and bloodstained. "You never had a choice, dear."

Leader lunged against the chains. “No!” he shouted. “No! I said I would do it--”

His wrist made a snapping sound even as he threw himself again, and again. His voice gave out, cracking into a sob. "Fuck you--"

The guards chained Whumpee to the wall, tightening them to the point until stones dug into Whumpee's raw back.

Leader cursed every foul name when Supervillain picked up the branding iron.  "Don't-- Don't you dare!"

But when Whumpee screamed his name, begging him to make it stop, please, Leader went feral. He struggled frantically-- uselessly. He had never been more useless. The chains did not relent and the hand that held the brand was steady. Crimson blood traced a silky path down his arm, dripping to the tiles.

Whumpee's pleas fell on deaf ears. 

There was the horrible smell of burning skin. 

And a scream.

Leader would never forget that scream. 

Supervillain pulled the brand away, and Whumpee slumped forward, unconscious. Supervillain undid their restraints and let them collapse to the ground, stepping around them with a flicker of disgust. 

They ordered the guards to undo Leader's chains. “There’s not much damage he can do in here," they said.

And they left Leader alone with the battered captive, their still form twitching under the curling remnants of agony. 

Leader dropped down beside Whumpee, knees hitting the floor with all the force of a guillotine dropping. He worked quickly, taking off his own shirt and ripping it apart– first bandaging the brand and then trying to stem the blood from the flogging. It was a messy job and he did it poorly, with only the expertise of having previously done the same work on himself. 

Whumpee's eyes remained closed. 

Despair crouched inside Leader and it smiled. It smiled like Supervillain. Leader cried then. Hoarse sobs that ripped his vocal chords to shreds. 

Whumpee stirred. They exhaled softly– a small groan escaping their lips. They squeezed their eyes shut like they were still hoping this was some nightmare they could escape. 

Leader's voice was gone. He could say nothing. Provide no comfort. No reassurance. It was with hesitant movements that he moved Whumpee's head onto his lap, shielding them with his body as much as he could.

Please tell me you’re alright. 

Tell me we’ll be alright. 

Whumpee's entire body shook.

Nothing was alright.

[todorokis-girl]

That's really not what I meant - Kuroo Tetsurō (pt 1)

Hey 🌸

Summary: Our protagonist struggles with unrequited love for her childhood friend and team captain, Kuroo Tetsuro. With the support of her twin brother Kenma and their teammates, she faces the challenge of moving on and finding happiness beyond her crush. This story is filled with high school drama, emotional moments, and the strong bonds of friendship and team spirit. 💖🏐

(part 2)

masterlist

"You're drooling," my brother remarked, his eyes glued to the screen, the distinctive music of his game continuing uninterrupted.

“I am not,” I retorted, though my voice lacked conviction. 

“You are,” came a voice from the opposite side of me, the familiar tone of the libero, Yaku, unmistakable.

“Yaku!” I exclaimed, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. To add insult to injury, they were probably right. I had the most annoying crush on the team captain, Kuroo Tetsurou, a childhood friend who had grown from an awkward boy into an undeniably attractive and charismatic leader. Watching him command the court with such confidence and skill was mesmerizing.

I sighed deeply, resigning myself to the teasing. "Fine, maybe I was," I admitted, rolling my eyes as I stood up. I grabbed a water bottle and a towel to hand to the captain as he walked back from the court for the break. My heart thudded in my chest as I approached him, trying to maintain an air of nonchalance.

“Good job, captain,” I said, trying to keep my composure as I handed him the bottle and the towel.

Kuroo’s eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Thanks, miss manager,” he replied, taking the items from me. His fingers brushed mine ever so slightly, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I rummaged in my waist bag and pulled out a band-aid, noticing a small scrape on his finger.

“You scraped your finger earlier,” I pointed out, trying to sound as professional as possible. “If you don’t put a band-aid on it, it’ll be bad. We can’t have our middle blocker out of commission.”

Kuroo chuckled softly, a sound that made my heart flutter. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he said, his eyes twinkling with appreciation.

I watched as he carefully applied the band-aid, my mind wandering back to the countless memories we had shared. Growing up, Kuroo had always been there for me, whether it was to bandage a scraped knee or offer a comforting hug when things got tough. Now, seeing him in his element, leading the team with such passion, only made my feelings for him grow stronger.

As the break ended and the players returned to the court, I found myself lost in thought, my eyes trailing after Kuroo. The way he moved, the way he commanded the court, it was all so captivating. I shook my head, trying to focus on my duties as the team manager, but my mind kept drifting back to him.

Yaku’s voice broke through my reverie. “You know, you’re not very subtle,” he teased, a knowing smile playing on his lips.

I groaned inwardly, knowing he was right. “I know, I know,” I admitted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration.

“Why don’t you just tell him how you feel?” Yaku suggested, his tone surprisingly gentle.

I looked at him, wide-eyed. “Are you crazy? What if it ruins everything? It’s a lifetime of friendship! Not to mention that if I ruin it with Tetsu, Ken will definitely kill me and then forget I exist.”

Yaku shrugged. “Or it could make everything better. You won’t know unless you try. I just can’t see Kuroo not being your friend at the end of it, no matter what his response is. At the very least, I know he loves you—friend or girlfriend, I don’t know.”

I mulled over his words, my gaze drifting back to Kuroo. Maybe Yaku was right. Maybe it was time to take a chance. But for now, I’d continue to support Kuroo from the sidelines, hoping that one day, I’d find the courage to tell him how I truly felt.

When the last whistle of the day rang, signaling the end of practice, I started packing up the team’s equipment, handing items to Fukunaga, who was assigned to place them in storage. The atmosphere in the gym was winding down, players joking and chatting as they headed to the locker rooms.

“Ken, you have 20 minutes to get ready. I want to get started on dinner early,” I called out to my brother. He waved me off without turning around, his focus already shifting back to his game. It seemed video games provided all the sustenance he needed these days.

As I gathered the remaining items, I couldn't help but steal glances at Kuroo. He was talking to Kai and Yamamoto, his face animated as he recounted some play from the practice. His presence was magnetic, drawing me in despite my best efforts to stay composed. I sighed, tucking a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

Yaku's words echoed in my mind. Maybe it was time to take a chance, to risk everything for the possibility of something more. The thought terrified me, but the idea of never knowing was even worse. I finished packing up and handed the last of the equipment to Fukunaga, my mind still racing. I could feel Fukunaga’s eyes on me, and I ignored him. I REALLY needed to get better at hiding how I feel.

Walking over to the edge of the court, I took a deep breath and leaned against the wall, watching as Kuroo and the others made their way to the locker rooms. Kuroo glanced back and caught my eye, offering a smile that made my heart skip a beat. I returned the smile, my resolve strengthening.

Later, as the team dispersed and the gym quieted down, I found myself lingering, my thoughts still in turmoil. The familiar routine of managing the team's needs provided some comfort, but it also underscored how intertwined my life had become with Kuroo. I couldn't imagine a day without seeing him, without feeling his presence nearby.

“I’m done, let’s go,” Kenma said, startling me out of my thoughts. He stood there with his gym and school bag over his shoulders.

I nodded and looked past him to see Kuroo still hanging out. “He’s staying past practice today. Says he has a date.”

“Oh,” I swallowed thickly and nodded, opening the gym doors to allow Kenma to head out first.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice unusually gentle.

“I’m perfectly fine, Ken,” I replied, forcing a smile. My heart felt heavy, and I could feel the sting of tears threatening to spill over, but I kept them at bay.

The walk home was quiet, the silence filled only by the sound of our footsteps. Kenma was lost in his thoughts, probably planning his next gaming strategy, while I struggled to keep my emotions in check. The idea of Kuroo on a date with someone else gnawed at me, a painful reminder of the feelings I had kept hidden for so long.

As we reached our house, Kenma headed straight to his room, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I started preparing dinner, the repetitive motions of chopping vegetables and stirring pots providing a small measure of comfort. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't shake the image of Kuroo with someone else, laughing and smiling the way he did with me.

By the time dinner was ready, I had managed to push my emotions to the back of my mind, focusing instead on the task at hand. Kenma joined me at the table, and he seemed to sense something was wrong with my mood “You’re not ok” 

“I’m fine, Ken.”

“Y/N, we’ve known each other our entire lives, we’re twins for a reason. Don’t gaslight me into thinking I don’t know you.” He stared at me, almost reading my soul, forcing me to speak.

“Were you teasing me, or was he actually going on a date?” Kenma rolled his eyes and pulled out his phone, taking a second to play around with it. Then, he showed me the screen on his smartphone.

It was a picture of Kuroo at some flowery local café shop, wearing one of his button-ups. Next to him was a familiar face. She sits next to us in class. How did I not notice… “Is that…”

“Yes, it is.” I let out a sigh and turned back to my food, deciding to finish the conversation, the weight of Kenma’s eyes on me trying to convince me to waver. “She asked him out during lunch break last week. She was very smart in timing it just as you left to the bathroom.”

“You didn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t for me to tell.” I sniffled and cleared my throat, looking back up at him. I didn’t think my heart could’ve broken any louder.

“I think… maybe it’s time to move on. I can’t stay in this space forever. All I’m doing is breaking my own heart.”

Kenma reached across the table, placing a hand on mine. “You deserve to be happy, Y/N. Sometimes things don’t work out the way we want them to, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. It just means there’s something else out there for you.”

I nodded, appreciating his words even though they couldn’t fully mend the ache in my chest. “Thanks, Ken. I just need some time.”

“Take all the time you need,” he said softly. “Just remember, I’m here for you.”

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. I went through the motions of cleaning up and getting ready for bed, my mind a storm of emotions. As I lay in the dark, staring at the ceiling, I couldn’t help but think about what Kenma had said, almost competing with what Yaku had said earlier that day. Maybe it was time to let go of my feelings for Kuroo, to stop torturing myself with what-ifs and maybes, IF all I had to do what tell him how I felt, I was too late anyway. 

But moving on was easier said than done. Kuroo had been a part of my life for so long, and the thought of not feeling this way about him was almost unfathomable. Yet, I knew that holding onto these unspoken feelings was only hurting me more.

As I drifted off to sleep, I made a promise to myself. Tomorrow, I would start the process of moving on. I would focus on myself, my friends, and the things that made me happy outside of Kuroo. It was time to heal and to find a new path forward, even if it meant letting go of the dream I’d held onto for so long.

(part 2)

[acer-whumpstuff]

When a whumpee who’s usually always laughing and joking can’t laugh or joke at THIS.

Everyone thinks whumpee can handle any pain because they always laugh or joke through it, looking on the bright side, keeping everyone else in good moods.

Whumpee who finally experiences the horrors and can’t laugh at it. Or a team who experiences a huge loss and turns to Whumpee to make them feel better and they just have… nothing. No jokes, no hope.

Hard to tell who’s more freaked out in that moment, Whumpee, or Whumpee’s friends

[dex1o]

some lineart of my main genshin team sleeping that i dont know if i'll finish or not. colouring is hard leave me alone

[bleedingintogold]

A leader whose strength has always been his team. He never had people that he felt so connected to before, people who he trusted would always have his six, who he could be vulnerable around, who would never leave him behind.

Until they do.

He can only watch as eyes that once looked at him with belief, with a gaze that told him that they were always on his side, turned to disgust. When hands that once stitched his wounds and massaged sore muscles are the same ones that hold the whip to hurt him, fists that beat him and draw blood. Arms that had once hugged him when he needed warmth are the same pair that hold him still as he's branded as a traitor for something that he had never done.

It had been so easy for them to turn on him, as if all those years together spent by the fire, bonding over food and banter meant nothing.

The leader who they had once loved like a brother lays in the basement cellars, starved and cold and sick. He stopped eating, only ever partially conscious when they torture him for information that he does not have. They keep him there while the wounds they inflicted fester and slowly kill him, all hoping that he'll at least survive to see the day that his proper punishment is dealt.

But then the real traitor steps up out of guilt, after seeing what had been done to the man that had been falsely accused. After they had seen a good man treated as though he was worth less than the dirt on the bottom of his team's boots when all he ever did in his life was for his people.

The leader, broken and dying on a hospital bed, lives just a few moments long enough to hear the apologies of his team, his brothers and sisters. Cries that beg him to pull through as though they hadn't been the very ones who put him here.

Still, he forgives them.

Taking a few more weak breaths as the world that has always failed him finally gives him mercy.

[cpt-winters]

me and my friend are going absolutely feral for the team leader battle aftermath story. it’s so, so, sooooo beautifully written. the emotions and imagery are outstanding. I am completely immersed! we’re both dying for more. and tysm for writing and posting <3

Aw, thanks sm <3 This is the last one lol hope you and your friend enjoy!

Collapse Aftermath - Leader Whump

He tried to stay upright. He really did, but the second Leader's knees buckled any effort to grip onto composure was lost.

"Whoa, hey-"

A quiet groan was the most objection Leader managed at the arms locking around him, flaring the wound in his side.

Colourful exclamations of panic from his teammate morphed into something distant as he slumped against the other, short breaths the only thing to be heard above the heavy heartbeat- not his own, thudding against his ear.

Heavy limbs of no use to him, Leader could only shudder as Teammate lowered him to the floor, the painstaking care doing nothing for the torn skin that screamed in protest until the ceiling above finally flooded his vision.

"...ear me?"

His eyelids drooped beneath the harsh fluorescent tubes glaring down, a distinct chill settling around him as his head lulled to the side.

"Shit, shit! Hey- Can you hear me?"

Leader mustered some vague groan, frantic tapping against his cheek tugging back on his thread of consciousness. He failed to bite back his half-strangled cry, no warning coming before the firm pressure pushed into his side.

"Fuck! Why didn't you say something?" Teammate's wide eyes flickered from their captain's wound to his paling face.

".. 'thought I had it h.. handled," he gritted out, biting back another wince.

"This- this is not handled boss!"

Dark spots blotted the face looming above him in and out of focus, nothing but Leader's choked breaths occupying the space between the pair. "Yeah.." he whispered, eyes threatening to fall closed.

"No, no. Come on Leader, eyes on me," Teammate encouraged, shaky voice accompanied by incessant tapping resuming on the side of Leader's face.

Sluggishly swiping at it only yielded his own hand caught in Teammate's, guided down toward his side.

"Just keep that there, okay?" They carefully laid his palm across the soaked material, drawing a shaky breath. "I'll get help just- just stay there."

Leader's glazed eyes followed Teammate as they scrambled to their feet.

"I'll be right back. Right back," they promised, giving their captain's limp form a final glance before sprinting out the door, rushed footsteps fading down the hallway.

3/3 (Part One, Part Two)