#[ but Yancy really do be coming through trying to comfort me and going ' keep it on I'LL handle them aka hope they die <3 ' ]

[antigoddex-a]

So, hi, hello, PSA: I have been going through recent events that I can see belong to the fact that I have O.SDD-1 / O.SDDID ( a sub-type of O.ther S.pecified D.issociative D.isorders that is most similar to D.issociative I.dentity D.isorder ), specifically OSDD-1b. As far as I am aware, I have two alters, Yancy who came around recently on May 8th and a little who I can’t recall when exactly, but most likely somewhere in 2020 ( I always felt ashamed fully properly acknowledging them while also believing it’s just Normal to slip into the little headspace here and there, but, now, I get them... ). Huzzah!

With this fact in mind, I am going to try to keep track of ourselves and my life while trying to fully grasp them when I am usually known to be extremely detached with myself and life to often truly not care about anything that would happen to and around me. I have always wanted to do journalling, but couldn’t because of erratic motivation, but I want to try again while trying to rebuild my own sense of self that is usually distorted. It is gonna be tiring and repetitive and annoying, but I think actually acknowledging my own presence and even trying to appreciate where I am and the fact of how I am still here despite what I would go through does very helpful. Honestly, I and especially Yancy are proud of me for gradually coming to terms with all of this and taking immediate actions about them. Also, I have never taken any medications or done any therapy sessions for ever anything with me, so... The fact I’m doing this as well all alone, either Yancy wants to help or not, we are very impressed as well.

Now in terms of if Yancy will front while I would be active on here ( e.g. reblogging posts, replying threads, etcetera ) or interacting with someone through messages, I don’t know how often that will be a thing, as this is all new to us, but we will start to end our sentences wirh our names ( - Morningstar or - Yancy ) in comments or tags to indicate who is talking. With D.iscord or T.umblr IMs, assume it’s me, Morningstar, otherwise Yancy would most likely state their presence, but while I doubt they ever would because these conversations are my own businesses, who knows. I will also be making a Carrd or such platform as a little about info for me and my alters. I do have to say, noticing this, that one of Yancy’s spelling habits is they really don’t give a fuck about misspellings and don’t capitalize the I’s or names in the entire sentences, while I am complete opposite, so if they happen to forget signing their name yet their speech seems more LOUD and messy, that’s most likely them.

The details under cut is just me sharing the experience where Yancy fronted I think briefly in the morning today on the 9th because I want people to really See what I mean when I say we have OSDD-1b. It was really Something to go through. It’s not obligated to be read though, so if you’re stopping by here, just please know that I am extremely appreciative and thankful for the continuous support and love. My emotional detachment really makes it so difficult for me to interact with literally everyone I know here regardless of how close we are, initiating or carrying conversations, as well as the tolerance in how I speak / type, behave, etcetera, is so beyond appreciated. I had lost a very few people who I had been long mutuals with on Sunday around the time Yancy came through especially with their very prideful and rowdy self, so it was disheartening seeing that we got “ too much “, but I still recall how Yancy made a sneering face realizing who softblocked me and only said out loud it’s okay ( they even actually planned to hardblock them to make me feel less bad seeing them around but I stopped them ‘cause it’s just not worth it as I can understand why ), so, to those who is still here with us, thank you so much. <3 <3 <3

I’m not going to share a whole lot of else that had happened with Yancy yesterday on Sunday because Sunday was just? A lot that I can’t remember what happened exactly other than the prominent fact that I was in multiple of people’s inboxes, but while you already know about the softblock thing and how they would usually type as a habit, I am aware that their tags of their selfies posts came across as very boastful, which... I can get it’d be overwhelming to others, but honestly, I don’t blame Yancy being like that especially when I had really negative thoughts regarding my mom and my birth / existence. ( I do highly appreciate them helping being there for me during Mother’s Day though. ) Now about today, Yancy fronted very briefly in the morning a few minutes after I replied to this thread and it was a lot to handle. It happened while I was scrolling through my blog and I suddenly felt very large / tall and I noticed I would be slouching over with my arms out ( imagine a werewolf being like this posture wise ). And I was able to catch / sense that I kept clenching my fists as if I wanted to hold a knife since the thread had the said weapon involved. Morningstar stims and shouting is one of xyr stims as it makes xem more happier and free, but the urge to shout is very sudden while there’s a heavy, sharp sensation building in the chest, along with the sick feeling of wanting to explode. We did release the shout into the pillow, but after that, the details are blur as I can not remember when did I front back. It was just intense... I have a lot of questions than answers about me and Yancy and my little alter, but while I am extremely relieved to find an exact label of what I am going through, I really hope as time goes on, we will all come to understand each other completely as whole and move forward towards the genuine peace. Together.

[orange-waterfalls]

Unnecessary Feelings

The Host x gn!reader

ty anon for the request

A/N: BRO. Bro. Bro I. I am so proud of this one don’t even look at me. Also happy spooky month! Might do something with that, idk though. This is more of another character study with the Host, I’ll be honest. I still think it’s pretty cute, though. I didn’t read back through this, lmk about any mistakes. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.4k

Unnecessary Feelings

Host isn’t particularly looking for a relationship, of any sort. Not necessarily. It would be nice, but it isn’t at the forefront of his mind. It’s not that important. Change is weird. He’s been in his same office, writing the same kind of stories, with the same kind of people. That’s fine. He likes that. He likes his novels, his protagonists, and his office.

He explained all of these things to Wilford and Darkiplier, but neither was having it. That’s how he ended up staying at the manor for a while, while his place was being “renovated”. He didn’t know how much he trusted Wilford to “renovate” correctly. 

Wilford likes pink. A lot. Host doesn’t. He can't see it, but he knows it. Pink was loud. Pink smelled like raspberries and icing and cherry blossoms and shrimp. It sounded like fair music and joyful screaming and chalk scraping on the ground. It felt smooth and soft and squishy. It tasted like sugar, sugar, sugar, too much to be healthy. Pink made his brain hurt. He doesn’t like pink. Wilford likes pink. Wilford… Wilford fucking loves pink. And Wilford will say it’s pink, and Host will know it’s pink, and even though he can’t see it, he’ll be upset that it’s pink. He doesn’t like pink. He doesn’t know how to say it. So he doesn’t. And he copes.

He takes the opportunity to talk to the others staying at the manor, which was pretty much just Dr. Iplier and… you. Dr. Iplier was a… reasonable man. He was boring. Very boring, really. He directed every conversation to discuss your health or a weird patient he had recently, neither of which really interested the Host. He didn’t enjoy talking to Dr. Iplier too much. 

You, however…

Were also kind of boring?

Well, you mostly just wandered around, reading, cleaning, sleeping, not doing much else. He didn’t initiate conversation and neither did you. If you sat next to him on the couch and he sat a little straighter and breathed a little faster, that was simply a coincidence. And the urge to talk to you about his novel for hours was simply boredom. And the desire to listen to you talk for hours was… it was none of your goddamn business is what it was. He didn’t like you, but he didn’t dislike you either. He felt nothing. You made him feel nothing. This didn’t mean anything.

Really. 

It didn’t.

But, entirely too fast, Dark and Wil were done. Or rather, whoever they hired was done. Which was good. Host bid you two goodbye. Dr. Iplier told him to drink plenty of water but not too much, and you told him you’d keep an eye out for his newest novel. He felt like he should be blushing right now, he felt it in his face. Nobody commented, so he assumed he didn’t. He felt a thing happen in his chest as he looked at the two of you. 

He didn’t like either of you, and if he kept telling himself that, maybe it would come true.

He received a new office. It was much cleaner and brighter, and he actually had room to think. There was an espresso machine in the corner atop a pink table, a “dandelion” yellow couch next to it, a pastel pink desk against the opposite wall, and a few “motivational” posters on the baby blue walls. At least from what he’d heard. Wilford did his best to explain the room. He appreciated that the walls were not, in fact, pink like he expected.

He had to walk around a few times, keep track of his steps, and get used to the new layout. It’s a good room. Clean. No nails sticking out of the floor, no rats scurrying around, no cobwebs, no holes, no nothing. Clean and quiet. Clean. And. Quiet.

… 

He fucking hates the goddamn room.

Who likes silence? Who enjoys that? Who wants to be stuck in a suffocatingly clean office with nothing but their thoughts for hours at a time? Homicidal people, that’s who.

Ignore the fact that he has homicidal tendencies and has almost killed/has killed several people, that doesn’t matter right now.

He can just sit and deal. He can take the office, try to coax the rats into coming back, buy some spiders, and write. No big deal.

Except what if he didn’t deal? What if he told them he hated it and couldn’t work in these conditions? What if he was forced to stay at the manor again? What if he could… talk… and interact with people? Without anything barring him from doing so?

He’s… not lonely. 

He’s not lonely. 

He’s not.

But if he stays in the manor again while Wilford talks about how he has no taste and Darkiplier decides to be in charge of the renovation now, that’s not his fault.

Bim, Eric, and you were staying at the manor when he had to. For the second time. Bim had a thing for rom-coms and dramedy movies, and Eric had started to pick that thing up. You and Host also watched the movies, but whether you actually liked them was beyond him. Usually, you made fun of them together. He couldn’t see them, but he could hear a lot of the ridiculous dialogue. He could drop two random people in a closed-off room together and they’d have more chemistry than half of these Hallmark Christmas Movie couples. You were very quiet during “To All The Boys I Loved Before”, however, so either you loved it or you hated it. He couldn’t really tell.

You two talked a little less than before, you being preoccupied with Eric. Host was fine with that. He could just… talk to you whenever you were done. But you apparently had a low social battery and trapped yourself in a room whenever you were done talking to Eric. That was fine. Host didn’t need to be happy anyways. 

He may or may not have showed up at your door first thing in the morning sometimes to get the chance to talk to you. You didn’t know, so it was fine.

But Eric and Bim were smart. They picked up on the Host’s… “feelings” and desire to talk to you. If either were in a room with you and Host, they immediately left so that you could talk. It worked, and Host was happy, but he felt kind of bad.

No. No he didn’t. He felt no emotion towards anyone or anything. The suit he bought for Bim and the journal he bought for Eric meant absolutely nothing. It was a business transaction. You can’t prove anything.

Somehow quicker than before, the room was fixed. Again. And you, Eric, and Bim saw him off. Eric’s voice sounded wet and Bim sounded a little sad as well. You sounded… fine. But he had a suspicion that you knew you were going to see him again soon. And Host was not upset, of course not. And if he was thankful his eyes weren’t exactly working properly because otherwise he might have shed a few tears, it was completely unrelated. You can’t prove anything.

The new room was completely black and white. Black laptop and a white desk with a black chair. White walls and a black floor. A white couch against the wall. No espresso machine this time, which slightly disappointed the Host. 

Darkiplier sounded proud when he explained the room. Host could see why, it sounded very pretty. Which he tried to say when he turned to Darkiplier. But his traitorous mouth instead said:

“Host asks if this room is meant for the Host or you?”

The Host was teleported back to the manor this time. Wilford was standing out in front, Host knew because he heard the man’s distinct yell of surprise. He also smelled gunsmoke and wine.

“Wilford.”

“Host. What are you doing here?”

“The Host asks what you are doing here?”

“... I asked you first.”

“The Host asked you second.”

“... business. You?”

“... business.”

“Ah… well, cheers.” Quick footsteps get quieter as Wilford runs away. Host stood for a moment,  debating whether or not to apologize to Dark. Before he could decide, the door opened.

“Host?” You asked. Host instantly felt himself straighten up and ball his fists.

“Hello.” He said stiffly.

“Another renovation?” He heard the smile in your voice and forced himself not to smile back.

“Host assumes so.” He nodded.

“So…” You sighed.

“So?” He tilted his head.

“Are you coming in?” You asked. Host let himself smile as he walked into the manor.

He didn’t see you all too much for the rest of the week, and he was severely disappointed. There wasn’t really anybody staying there, just a few people visiting over a few days. Yancy, Illinois, and maybe Bing, if the sound of a skateboard at 3 in the morning was any clue. He was pretty much alone. And that was fine. He was usually alone. He was used to it. This was fine.

Maybe he should stop lying to himself so often.

All too soon, he was on his way back. Again. You were the only one to see him off this time.

“Well… um…” You started. The tension between you two was like a punch to the gut. You were perfectly fine before. What happened?

“Host bids you farewell,” He nodded politely and turned around. Maybe if he left quickly, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

“Wait, Host!” You called. He froze. “I’m, uh… I’m coming with you.” He spun around to face you.

“Host… asks what you mean?”

“I wanna… see your office. I mean, if I’m… allowed to visit?” You said meekly. Host felt his heart quicken.

“The Host would love-like that,” He coughed as he corrected himself. 

“Ok, good,” He could hear the smug smile in your voice. Damn him and his… feelings.

The commute to his thrice-new office was almost silent. Neither of you said anything. You most likely wanted to wait for the Host to start the conversation, but he didn’t want to bother you if you didn’t want to talk. It was a little awkward. But after a while, it became comfortable. He liked just being in your presence.

He thought that was what he would miss most about the manor.

You both stood outside of his office door when you arrived.

“Well… here we are.” You whispered. Host nodded solemnly. “Do you want to do the honors.” Host lifted his hand to the doorknob, feeling himself shake. He clutched the doorknob, not moving an inch. He could feel your eyes on him. You were worried. This was fine. 

You could visit. But what if you didn’t want to? What if you saw his stories? What if you thought he was cruel? He was, but not to you. He would never be to you. He could stop. He could write different stories. He could write a romance! It would still affect people’s lives, but for the better? At least until the story ended and he had no control over it. What if you wanted him to stop? He couldn’t just stop. Would you give him an ultimatum? You wouldn’t… would you?

“Host--” You started. He whipped around to face you.

“The Host does not want to enter the room.” He said, voice wavering a little. He cleared his throat. Embarrassing.

“What? Ho-”

“The Host wants to talk to people. The Host… wants friends. The Host wants to stay with you and the others.” He grits out. God, this was pathetic. Was he begging? 

“Host, open the door.” You sighed. The Host froze. What? Why were you… what?

Oh. So that was it. You were seeing him off… for the last time. You didn’t… you… didn’t like… 

Right. Yeah. You were a polite person. He should’ve known.

“But…” He trailed off and faced the floor.

“Host, I really think you should open the door,” You said, the smile clear in your voice. His eyebrows furrowed. Well, you didn’t have to be so eager about it, Jesus.

The Host grabbed the doorknob and threw the door open with a crack against the wall.

“Jesus, man!” Bim’s distinct game show voice sounded from inside the room. Left front corner. “What’s got your boxers in a bunch?”

“I always thought he was a boxer-briefs man.” Dr. Iplier said from the opposite side.

“I can confirm that he is, in fact, a boxer-briefs man.” Google said from the same place as Dr. Iplier.

“I honestly would’ve thought commando.” Eric’s voice was muffled, as if he was facing away from everyone else.

What… What the fuck?

“What. The fuck.” He said loudly. You clapped a hand on his shoulder, making him jump.

“Surprise! We’re invading your office. Please don’t resist.” He could, again, hear the smirk on your face. He almost wanted to be mad. Almost.

“What?” He turned to you. You let go of him and stepped in.

“We fixed your room! You got your bland-ass beige walls, your hardwood floor, cobwebs, dust, and I think there’s a rat somewhere in the walls…”

“His name is Remy!” Eric said happily.

“Sorry, Remy is somewhere in the walls.” Host didn’t move, still processing this whole situation.

“The Host… doesn’t understand…” He rubbed his temples.

“Well, you seemed… lonely. And we like spending time with you. So… we’re gonna spend time with you!” Bim explained.

“You don’t have to do things alone anymore. Just… call someone up and we’ll come hang out.” Dr. Iplier said.

“Only if you ask, though.” Eric added softly. Host didn’t move for a long while.

The others began to fidget, thinking they did something wrong. Eventually, he took a breath, and everyone else held theirs.

“Is… is the Host’s equipment still here?” He asked.

“Your writing stuff? Yeah, it’s on the desk.” You answered. Host went quiet again, thinking.

“Do… You guys want to help the Host write something?” He mumbled.

“Hell yeah we do!” You clapped your hands once. Host made his way over to his desk. All the others, including you, crowded around him as soon as he sat down, pushing each other to get a good look.

This was slightly claustrophobic and pretty uncomfortable… 

…

It was perfect.

[bonesandquills]

Two Sides (Darkiplier x Reader, Part One)

Warning: Angsty fluff. I took waaaay to many liberties with this story, but I hope you guys like it.

No specific gender, I think. If you see something that changes that please let me know and I'll fix it!

You had been living in the manor for quite a while now. How you got there was a matter up for debate, but debate among the inhabitants of this place usually ended with an injury and some blood. You assumed you had wandered in, but you didn't quite remember...

In any case, that didn't matter. You were as much a part of this place as Dark, Wilford, Yancy, or any of the others were. They accepted you like family, some more than others. Mark, the tall dashing owner of the manor, was the most warm and welcoming. He was referred to as 'Actor' by most of the others, and they seemed to keep out of his way. You didn't quite understand why, he seemed kind. A little egotistical, but he was always looking after you, asking how you were feeling or if you wanted anything.

You didn't ever quite understand the reason for this place, or the sort of work that Mark and the other egos did. You knew that they never strayed far from the manor.

You were on pretty good terms with just about everyone except Dark, with whom you had no terms at all. He was aloof, cold, haughty, and went out of his way to avoid contact with everyone unless it was absolutely necessary. When he spoke, his tone was quiet and melancholy, devoid of most emotion. You knew he wasn't human, most of the people here weren't. Still, he seemed odder than the rest. Maybe it was his red and blue aura that flared up when he was angry. Maybe it was his sense of always being a few seconds ahead of himself, as if he was reading a script and remembering what to say next. Maybe it was.... it could've been anything, really.

You knew, subconsciously, that he was a villain. That's what Mark had told you.

"Darling," he had said, using his favorite name for you. "I need to speak to you about something important."

You had looked at him curiously, waiting for him to continue.

"I want you to stay away from Darkiplier. He's dangerous. He's nothing but a villain, and that's all he'll ever be. He'll try to take you, try to manipulate you, and I don't want to see that happen to you."

Sure, Dark had a temper, but you'd never seen him do anything inherently evil. Still, you supposed Mark knew him best and you trusted Mark. You didn't go out of your way to avoid him, but you didn't try to seek him out either. He didn't really seem to like you either, so it all worked out.

Until... it didn't.

You started to notice things, things you would have let pass by a few times, but they continued to happen, and finally you had to admit something was wrong. Mark had been acting... wrong. He said everything as if it were a memorized line, but sometimes he would slip up. After one of these, he'd disappear into his room and refuse to speak to anyone, even you. This made you feel hurt, and alone, and you started spending more time in the Manor's library.

What had happened to your sweet, lovable Mark? Why did he now does add much time as he could away from you? Why could he now not meet your eyes?

With these thoughts running through your head, you didn't quite watch where you were going when you stepped out of the library, and crashed into someone very cold.

You stumbled back, close to losing your balance, but were stopped by a chilled hand grasping your upper arm.

"Are all humans so clumsy?" Dark said in his quiet, rumbling tone. "Or is it just you?"

You looked up at him and scowled. With Dark, you are never sure if he was teasing or actually just an asshole.

"I'm not clumsy, you ran into me."

He gave a small minuscule tilt of his head. "No. You crashed into me because you," He brushed past you into the library. "Were simply not watching where you were going."

You scowled and walked off.

Later, you ran into him in the hallway. Not literally this time, just a simple chance encounter. You made fun of the disorganized bundle of papers in his arms and he replied with some snarky remark. You grinned and parted ways.

And so this continued. You would find him in the library, or wandering the corridors, or simply sitting in the garden, all things that you liked to do. Slowly, but surely, your conversations with him became longer, further than just exchanging pleasantries. You grew to find yourself thinking about him when he wasn't around, not in any romantic sense, but just that he was someone new to talk to. You made a more conscious effort to find him, to engage in conversation.

Slowly, eventually, after many months of tentative acquaintanceship, he began to do the same. He would join you in the library, or simply accompany you on one of your walks outside the manor. He couldn't stay away long, but what time he could he spent with you.

The reason he gave, always, was that he was bored. He had nothing else to do, so he might as well spend it with you, pathetic mortal that you were. But you knew him better than to accept that as his reason.

Everyone else in the Manor was terrified of him. Not that you quite blamed them, he made quite a daunting figure. Still, you didn't mind his outward appearance, and he found that... fascinating. Comforting, perhaps.

Maybe, for all his cold resentment towards anything living, Dark just wanted someone to talk to.

"Are you even listening?"

You snapped out of your thoughtful stupor. You were walking next to Dark through the Manor gardens, and had gazed off while he was talking.

"Sorry, Dark, I wasn't paying attention."

"Obviously. So what's on your mind?"

You paused. "Nothing important."

"You, dear, are a terrible liar," He said nonchalantly. "And I hate liars. Try again."

You gave a short laugh. "I was just thinking about Mark."

You paused as you saw him tense, his eyes darkening slightly. When he saw you watching the look disappeared as soon as it came.

"Oh? And... what about him?"

"Has he been seeming... off, to you?"

You thought you heard him scoff, but maybe you were imagining it. "No, I hadn't noticed."

"Oh... well, we used to be sort of a thing, you know? I was really close, and now I think something's happened. He just seems like he's uninterested and he spends a lot of time just avoiding me. You work with him, has he said anything?"

You looked at him expectantly, but he only sneered.

"Me, work with him? Only because I have to."

You raised an eyebrow, confused. "What do you mean?"

"You must have noticed. I can't go far from the Manor."

You nodded. "Yes, you're connected to it. Mark said something about your death-"

Dark turned to you. "And how exactly did he tell you I died? What extravagant lie did he make up for you this time, hm?"

You furrowed your brow, surprised by this sudden outburst. "Mark.... Mark wouldn't lie to me. He would never."

Dark's black eyes bore into yours, but there was no malice there, not any that was directed to you at least. "Of course he wouldn't. So what did he tell you."

You gathered your thoughts, growing more doubtful by the moment. "He.... he said that you got shot. That you make William angry and he shot you."

He looked at you. "Anything else?"

"No, he said that you were brought back by the Manor."

Dark sighed and rubbed his head. "Another one..."

You did a double take. "What do you mean, 'another one'?"

"Another romantic partner, another lie, another story."

"Another... partner?"

Dark gave you a grin that seemed more sinister than reassuring. He started walking again, in his wide-paced stance and his hands behind his back. You didn't follow, thinking that this was one of his signals, meaning he didn't want to talk anymore. At least until he paused and spoke without turning his head. "Are you coming?"

You hurried after him.

"Everything you know about Mark is a lie," he said bluntly, without giving you any time to react or interrupt. "You are not the first person he has brought to this place, not the first one he has charmed with his lies." He took a deep breath. "This place is far, far older than you believe, and so are all of us. We all died several years ago."

You nodded. So far, you followed.

"We, however, were not the cause. Mark may paint himself the hero, but he is far from that." As he spoke his words grew lower and more laced with ringing static. "He killed all of us."

"But.... Wilford's not dead?"

"Yes, he is. As dead as all of us, but it didn't happen here. That's not important."

"Long ago, Mark married a woman named Celine. He was entirely devoted to her. He gave her everything. But she betrayed him, and cheated on him with his best friend, his brother. Wilford."

You felt your heart pang. Having been cheated on before, you knew how that felt.

Dark continued. "The betrayal sent him mad. He decided to get his revenge on everyone, even those who had nothing to do with it."

"What do you mean by that?"

He growled lowly. "Have you heard talk of a man named Damien?"

You nodded silently.

"He was Celine's brother. He was the Mayor of this town, before the world came crashing down around us. He didn't have anything to do with Celine and her cheating, but Mark directed all of his wrath... at him. His second brother."

"He sought to make himself the hero of the story, his broken mind not being able to comprehend the terrible things that he was doing. In his thinking, he was doing right, and we were the villains. He faked his own death, and one by one took the rest of us."

He didn't want to seem to go into detail, and you weren't going to push him. There would be time for that later, and you didn't think that this was the right state to be pushing Dark into.

"I was... forced, into this body. I share it with three other souls. I was given the anger, the means, to be the villain. So..." He spread his hands in a 'what you see' gesture. "Here I am. The villain."

Your head was spinning and everything seemed loud. "So... why did Mark bring me here?"

Dark smirked. "Don't you know? Ever hero needs a damsel in distress."

"Distress? I'm not in distress."

With these words, Dark held his head. He mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn't make out. When he looked up, any trace of the kindness or softness you had previously seen in him was gone. He gripped your wrist almost painfully, and dragged you close to him.

"Are you so sure about that, darling dear?"

[speedypandaweasel]

Change of Plans - A Yancy x Neutral! Reader

❤ REBLOGS WOULD BE APPRECIATED ❤

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 MASTERLIST

Where we left off:

So much for a lie in. You slowly rose from the cocoon of warmth you had made for yourself and you felt your toes wriggle up the bed and hiss at the exposed coldness of the room. Dragging yourself out of subconsciousness, your eyes finally decided to greet the grey interior and the black-barred window that perched just out of your arms reach. Why would they put such a tiny window if they didn’t want anyone to look out of it? Pretty pathetic actually. The Penitentiary really needed to repaint the bars, some of the black paint had flaked onto your pillow whilst you were sleeping.

You sat up, a little too quickly, and a cold, hard sensation hit the top of your body. Well good morning to you too World.

The unbearable ringing continued as you brought your arm down onto the squawking alarm clock. The room fell into a comfortable silence once more. 7:30am, not too bad, yet it could have been a little longer. Yet it was as if someone decided to balance a massive book on “how to not have a headache” on your already sore head. You’d ask Boggs for some paracetamol, or maybe some Ibuprofen as you tried to ponder on what did you do to deserve this...

~ Chapter 5 ~

MatchBox Analysis - 2.3K Words

"I'm here to speak to Officer Boggs." You timidly spoke, playing with the hem of your shirt. The man that towered in the small door frame in front of you was the most intimidating of all: Officer Rexx.

There were rumours about him that were too obscure and dangerous to mention twice, You only happen to hear about them when you overheard a couple of prisoners talking about "the anniversary" of how he lost his previous job, whatever that meant. To be frank, you didn't want to know about whatever hell hole he wriggled out of and treaded on eggshells around him, even if you weren't speaking to him. Something about that man caused you to feel insecure about something that you couldn't point your finger at, but there was no doubt that it was there.

"Yeah, he's in here." He paused for a moment. "You're one of the newer ones around here, aren't you? I've seen you around but never had the pleasure to meet."

He stuck out his grubby hand, his sausage fingers extended shortly at you, waiting for you to touch them. You grimaced before wiping that expression off your face. Rule 1: Never acknowledge the fingers.

You stuck out your hand bravely and shook his greasy one. His strong grip tightened around your knuckles as he shook hard, almost breaking your frail fingers.

"Well, I'll just go get him. Stay there." He spat. The door firmly closed behind him, the staff room's view blocked once again. You peeped through the mesh windows and managed to decipher the blurred silhouette of the sofa and coffee counter. You backed away as the door swung open again to the familiar face of Officer Boggs, his much shorter height made you relax second by the second.

"Oh hi Y/N, shouldn't you be outside?" He asked before shutting the door behind him, leaving the both of you outside in the wide hallway.

"Well I am, but I forgot to give you this from last night." You replied, planting your hand into your pocket before pulling out the owners key. Boggs let out a chuckle as his rosy cheeks grew even merrier.

"I forgot I gave you this! I'm glad that at least someone doesn't take my naivety for granted" He continued. "I respect that about you."

He unhooked the jingling keys from his beltline and clipped the Cafertiera key on the chain. He had a proud collection of keys to his name - being a veteran member of the Prison, it did have its perks.

"Well thank you, I really appreciate that Boggs. You know, sometimes I don't feel like I fit in here myself." Sounded cliche, you internally facepalmed yourself. Normally you wouldn't be telling this to anyone, but Boggs had been there since forever so it was nice to tell at least someone your true thoughts about staying here.

"Oh now don't think like that, every prisoner when they first come in her feels like that, but don't worry, I'm sure that the others will welcome you soon. Have you tried talking to them? I know you're not the socially inclined person but give it a shot. Who knows? You might actually enjoy their company" He concluded.

When Boggs gave advice, it could go two ways: either it was incredibly awful which ended in bad decisions being drawn from it, or it could be genuinely heartwarming and sincere words of wisdom. Thankfully, this was one of those pieces.

You allowed yourself to run over the speech the superior had just given and smiled. You could spark up a conversation with Yancy, you could ask him about what that poem meant! Maybe that could be the starting point of breaking out of your introverted shell.

"Thanks Boggs, I really do appreciate you." You said, before heading off outside.

"Have fun! But not too much fun, I don't want for you to get hurt!" His yells sounded down the empty corridor.

The mid-day sun blazed down on the steaming concrete, the prisoners having that work-out glow. Yancy had rolled his short sleeves even shorter, exposing his lesser-known tattoos, and his private box was stuffed in his trouser leg conveniently, away from the guard's view. If anyone found out what was in this box..well, it would ruin him.

Racing became tiresome after a couple of hours so the prisoners resorted to lazily running laps around the small quarter, this included the songbird himself.

"I tell's ya T, you wanna stop off for a few minutes? this box is gettin' uncomfortable." He protested, shifting his weight from one foot to another, finding a comfortable spot in his trouser leg.

"Why, you chickening out? Scared that someone will beat your record?" T retorted.

The prisoners slowed to a stop. Yancy regrettably paused his track game and attempted to get his ragged breath back.

"No ya dingus, it's 'cause dis box is scratchin' my skin off! I swear I's bleedin' down my shin by now."

Tiny's retort turned into concern as they pulled over to the side of the quarter. Once out of sight, Yancy slowly rolled his trouser leg up to his shin and took out the small, worn-out box from the bottom of his leg.

"Your leg hasn't been sawed off Yance, but you sure you need to keep it there? You could hurt yourself."

Yancy chortled shortly, not willing to admit that his friend was right. After what happened last time, he was going to learn from his mistakes. He rubbed his fading ankle bruise as he remembered the time he stayed in the medical ward. But the question was: where was he going put the little thing?

His eyes scanned the usual nooks and crannies that he had hid stuff in before, but word somehow got out and now everyone was using them for their secret stashes. Great - so much for having the upper hand.

His eyes continued to look for somewhere to stuff the thing until his ears pricked up on the outside door swinging open. His frustrated face broke into a smile as he saw you walk out timidly, and perching on a weight bench.

"Here, can youse hang on to it for a hot minute, just don't open it alight," He said, his curious eyes never leaving your sight.

Tiny was startled. The Boss never let them hold anything of his, let alone the one thing he persistently never left out of his sight. Tiny slipped the matchbox into their shoe before taking a squat down the brick wall as they watched their mate stride over to the newbie, but chose not to follow suit.

You picked at the seat cushion like it was the most interesting thing ever to you, whilst plucking up the courage to go and talk to the most confident person out here. Your eyes managed to look up. partially blinded from the sun but saw the small huddles of prisoners near the water pitches, walking around, or down by the blind spot. Guards stood at every entrance broadly, letting people in and out of the area, their moist uniforms made you wonder how the hell they managed to keep composure in this heat.

Your moment abruptly came as you saw the man of the hour coming towards you, his wide shoulders fully exposed to the heats rays. You knew he worked but w-w-wow.

"Finally decided to join in the fun eh?" He sprung up the conversation.

Chuckling, you look down, embarrassed and in amusement "And I'm guessing that this is the newest trouser look. Is this asymmetric chic? or is this just you trying to use illusion to become taller?" You threw a double whammy at him.

Yancy's shocked eyes bored into your own mischievous ones for a brisk moment. Suddenly, he exaggeratedly placed a hand on his chest before crumbling to the grass floor. "Oh de pain! I can't bear it anymore! Not another short joke!"

Other people around the quarter edge were starting to laugh along with his flailing and happily applauded when he finished his piece. The cheering and jeering died down as the conversation drifted back to normal, as Yancy dragged his trouser leg down and sidled up next to you and he bumped his hard shoulder next to yours.

"What a Drama Queen." You continued, letting out a small smile.

"What can I's say, I got's to get ma training in somewhere." He replied "So how's it been with you? Finish dat book yet?"

It was as if he read your mind! The topic of the poetry book caught your attention as you chipped away at your social shell. "Uh, not yet, but I did want to ask you a couple of questions about poem 19. You know, the one you recommended I read?"

The prisoner stretched his arms and placed them behind himself. "Oh yeah! It's one of ma favourites! I personally thinks its about de good and bad sides to love and once you've actually caught feelings for someone, it pains you to do things dat even surprise yaself. Youse got me?"

You would have never known that Yancy had a passion for literature, just listening to him made you even more dedicated to spending time with him. Boggs was right with his advice, it didn't bruise your ego that bad to socialise with new people, as it made you question what other things the man had up it sleeve - or trouser leg.

You rephrased yourself, "Ok then Yance, do you read poems often then?" your feet started to dance around the grassy floor, flattening pieces of green.

"So do you analyse poems often then Yancy?"

The man interrupted you "Oh please, call me Yance, only the big dog calls me Yancy."

"I used to when I was a youngin', my family hads a nice library ya see. Dey's had Shakespeare, Jane Austen, and some oder authors I can't remember but when youse a fabulous actor like myself, you gotta keep up ya noggin' in check." He smiled and looked out onto the busy area, almost reminiscing about his past life.

He never liked to bring up the subject of his past but when Yacny was with you, it felt- right. To finally talk about childhood memories and just laugh about them, instead of it always being dragged back to the soul reason why he was locked up at Happy Trails in the first place.

His strong arm planted on the side of your small shoulder as he gave you a tight squeeze. "How about youse? Do you read?"

"I-Uh... I"

Words formed in your mouth, yet your tongue was on holiday, not responding to any sentence your brain was throwing at you. Butterflies were born in your stomach as your face started to feel warm, too warm for your liking. What was happening? Were you having sunstroke!?

"Youse ok? Ya looking a little warm d'ere" Yancy said, dropping his arm from your side. "Youse want me to go grab you some water?"

This signalled your tongue to finally come back to work. "Oh. No, I'm fine thanks and yeah, I read, that's what I was going to ask about you actually." You said, forcing confidence.

"No way! Heh, I guess great minds think alike huh?" He replied, grinning his addicting smile. He looked over to where he left Tiny and an idea sprung in his scheming mind. "Hey, youse wanna come over to the wall, I got's a friend who you could meet. I mean, only if you wanna?" Yancy laughed, trying to sweetly coax you deeper into socialisation.

You hesitated. This man sure was alluring, but risking another episode like that caused you to reconsider. You bit your bottom lip, slightly, your eyebrows became sewn together as you weighted up your options. Either go over and run your social battery out completely, or decline and recover from this moment.

"Thanks Yance, but I think I'm done for the day." You responded. "All this talking and warm heat" and maybe some other things "has made my head spin a little."

"Ok, well if youse's sure." Yancy stood up once more and punched your shoulder "See you around Keys!"

You saw him walk back to his mate and sit down together under the shade of the building. You blissfully made your way back inside of Happy Trails, back with you and your own thoughts.

Its blasting air conditioner made your arms tingle as you pulled out a chair in the Cafeteria and went to reach for the poetry book. The silence hung much thicker in the air as you sat uncomfortably. Is this what withdrawal felt like? To be isolated not a minute after being surrounded by people. You kind of missed the feeling of having someone to talk to, but everyone had their boundaries - even you. You tried not to linger on the thought of feeling like you let Yancy down. He gave you the opportunity to help you overcome your fears but you didn't take it. Maybe next time you would take it, but for now, you did something new today: You should be proud of yourself.

You scanned around at the empty chairs and tables, the occasional guard whistling by the Cafeteria's door frame before you brought your head to the window. Your eyes soon spotted Yancy sashaying around with his friend. They must have said something funny because he soon showed his pearly whites, his chest rising and falling as his strong hand clutched his chest. Your eyes couldn't tear themselves away from this scene. The jailbird was the only person who actually tried with you. Smiling to yourself, you looked back up and your breath hitched. He was looking directly back at you and giving you a small wave. His smaller companion followed suit, shooting their hand straight up, frantically joining in. You sheepishly waved back before opening the book from you left off.

"Missed me Y/N?"

[pebblee-penguin]

Hai @ficsandgiggles !! I'm your squealing santa!!! I hope you enjoy your fic, and happy holidays!

And thank you to @ticklygiggles for organizing all this!! <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(A post-Unus Annus tickle fic!! Lee!Ethan and Ler!Mark, platonic.)

Ethan is nervous because he thinks that since Unus Annus is dead, no one will remember him or his channel. Mark seeks ways to comfort him

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a couple days after Christmas and Mark had invited a couple friends over, safely. Some of his “YouTuber friends” took the C0vid test, and all tested negative so they got together, still being as safe as possible. Along with Ethan, Mark had the entirety of “Teamiplier” and more. Everyone was thankfully safe beforehand, and afterwards.

The others had left for some personal business, but Ethan stayed for a bit longer, not entirely motivated to drive home by himself. Mark was used to having Ethan around his home. Thanks to Unus Annus, Ethan felt like a roommate to him every once in a while. And he didn’t mind! As much as he made fun of Ethan, the two were best friends.

Ethan helped Mark and Amy clean up after the dinner. Amy had noticed Ethan’s eyes began to look wet, and seemed like he wasn’t doing okay.

“Hey, uh–would it be okay if I sat down f-for a moment. I’m—feeling dizzy.”

The other two looked up from their work and nodded.

“Yeah sure, go sit down.” Mark motioned his head towards the couch.

“Thanks..” Ethan sat on Mark’s couch with his hands on his forehead. Mark immediately got back to cleaning up. Amy smacked his arm.

“He’s clearly not feeling well. You should go talk to him.” she whispered.

“He seems..fine. I thought he was just dizzy...”

“Something’s on his mind. Just–go!”

“I don’t want you to hafta clean up everything by yourself-” he whined.

“I’ll be fine, just go talk to him.” she smiled and gave him a kiss on the cheek as she nudged him towards his friend. Mark smiled and headed towards Ethan.

Ethan heard footsteps coming toward him, so he quickly wiped his eyes and masked a slight smile for Mark.

“W-What’s up?” he stuttered, hoping his friend wouldn’t notice his current condition.

“What do you mean what’s up? Somethings not okay with you. Do you feel sick or something?” Mark sat down next to his friend. He was genuinely concerned. He didn’t want Ethan to feel bad.

“No, not sick.. Just…..tired. I guess..” He smiled, truly trying to be considerate, he shoved his emotions down inside himself to not burden anyone else. “I feel fine, Mark. Don’t worry about it.”

“You do not feel fine. I’m here to help! We can talk if you’d like. I just wanna help.” Mark’s eyes were locked on Ethan’s, making no error in showing him that he wanted to help. Ethan scoffed a bit and  looked away.

“I’m fine..just don't worry about it-”

Mark sighed. He hated seeing his friend feel down.

"Tell you what. Can I at least try to make you feel better, however you're feeling?" He raised his eyebrows, feeling determined to make sure Ethan could go back to being his best self.

"Yeah..sure." he chuckled slightly.

"Good. That's all I need." Mark ran past the kitchen for a moment, then ran back dog in hand.

"Heh, hi Beeks." He ruffled the top of Chica's fluffy face. Mark's eyes widened at Ethan's lack of emotion.

"Really?? Chica can't even help?" He put Chica's paws on Ethan's leg and pretended that Chica had a sad look on her face.

"I'm sorry, I'm just not feeling it!" Ethan threw his hands in the air for a moment. Mark stared at him, ideas flowing through his head for what could work even better than shoving a dog in his face.

"C'monnn! C'moooooon~" Mark cood while poking all around Ethan's torso. "I just wanna heeeeelp~"

Ethan swatted Mark's hands away. Mark noticed the slight grin forming on Ethan's face. He was attempting to hold down the bubbly giggles in his chest.

"Ohohoh... I got an idea to make yous feel bettah~" Mark used his 'Yancy' voice, indicating a playful tone towards Ethan.

"Mahark, don't you dare. It's not the time for this-" Instead of getting up from the couch, he began to shrink himself in to the couch's corner. With the realization that this idea wouldn't be the greatest, he continued executing it.

"Ohhhohoh I think it IS the time for this~" Mark playfully wiggled his fingers towards the younger man's stomach.

"Nohohoho!!" Ethan sunk further into the couch. As far as he could until Mark's fingers barely made contact with his quivering stomach.

"Yes!" Mark pounced and dug his clawed hands into Ethan's sides. Ethan twitched and squirmed as if he just got electrocuted, laughing hysterically.

"NAHAHA YOHOHOU AHAHAHASS-" He writhed and locked his arms in a position that almost made him look like he was operating a jetpack.

"Ass? I'm trying to help you out! Trying to make you feel better! I don't even know the reason for the horrid feeling has overcome you!" Mark's clawed hands scribbled over to the side of Ethan's ribs, Making Ethan's loud giggles go up an octave.

"NAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA MAHAHAHARK QUIHIHIHIHIT IHIHIHIT-" Ethan jolted again to the side.

"Nnnope! I'm gonnnnnnnnaaaaa......tickle your tummy! Tickle tickle!! Tickle tickle tickle!!" Mark's teasy voice was one Ethan had never heard before, but was enjoying thoroughly.

Through Ethan's incoherent giggles, Mark could barely understand all of what he was saying except for a mere "whyhyhyhy".

Ethan's major giggle fest was urging Ethan to fall off the couch. Before Ethan could 'escape' in any way, Mark thrusted his leg between Ethans' to keep him in place.

"Nuh-uh-uh~" Mark clicked. "I will sit here and tickle the information out of you if I have tooo~"

Ethan had no time to retaliate when he was at Mark's mercy once again. The tickling fingers moved and began vibrating at the crevice of Ethan's neck.

"FAAAHAHAHAHAHAHACK NAAHAHAHAHAHAHA" Ethan screamed as his hands moved to try to push away Mark from his sensitive neck. The two could even hear Amy giggling at them from the kitchen.

"AAAHAHAHAHAHAMY AHAHARE YOHOHOU ENJOHOYIHING THIHIHIS-" Ethan squealed to her from across the room.

"Am I doin' good Amy?" Mark began attacking Ethan's exposed underarms, from blocking his neck.

"You're doing great hunny!" Amy giggled again from the kitchen.

"YOOHOHOU TWOHOHOHO SHUHUT UHUHUP" Ethan's laughter grew twice as loud, and thrice as joyous. Mark chuckled at his friend who was clearly smiling. Not just from the tickling sensations, but he seemed to be feeling a lot better than before.

After what seemed like hours, but was really about 20 minutes in all, Mark slowed his tickles down to slight scratches on Ethan's back. Ethan, who was laying face down on the couch now, was giggling, almost sleepily.

"You feelin' any better? You ready to talk?" Mark moved so Ethan could sit up and breathe if he needed to.

"Yeah, I feel better." He grinned. "But..do we hafta talk about shit?"

“Come on, I really want to help whatever you’re going through. Please?” Mark nodded his head, showing that he was being serious.

Ethan saw Mark’s intent, and unraveled his feelings.

“I’m just having a bit of a harder time with Unus Annus. I’m fine with it being over, don’t get me wrong, I’m glad..but it’s making me feel like I’ve been forgotten already.” He looked down, avoiding eye contact. What he was feeling seemed so silly, so inconvenient. He didn’t know why this made him anxious, it normally never did. Mark’s eyes widened.

“Man are you serious? You’ve got literally nothing to worry about! Your fans absolutely adore you! You've got touring plans! You just hit 2 mil!! That’s a win in my book!” He pat Ethan’s shoulders.

“I know, I know! And I’m nothing but thankful! But.. I just feel like ever since Unus Annus is gone....people are forgetting about me already. Views have gone down and likes have gone down and ‘hate comments’ have gone up and all sorts of shit like that! And I know it’s petty to just think about views, but to be honest it kind of hurts my feelings. Which is really stupid.”

Mark understood Ethan’s feelings. It’s hard to feel unfulfilled. It’s hard to feel forgotten. He’s had times like that too.

“Hey, no one is forgetting about you. If anything Unus Annus probably boosted your channel!” he chuckled unharshly. Ethan sighed.

“Look, all I’m saying is that I really think you’ve got nothing to be worried about. Honestly, I see you working harder than ever now that Unus Annus is dead. And you’re making so much progress. You’re progressing faster than I hoped to have when I was where you are. You’re doing so much, and your fans love you. You’re amazing, man.” Ethan looked up and smiled at Mark.

“Damn, that really means a lot to me. Thanks Mark.” he smiled widely.

"No problem, you ticklish dork." He ruffled Ethan's hair like a child. "And thanks to you for being ticklish enough for me to get you to talk." He winked and Ethan chuckled.

“No problem, asshole.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wow! This is the first full fic I've written and posted to tumblr! I hope yall like it!! :D xx

[saviwrites]

Cuddle Buddies

Hello lovelies! I've been working on this one for a bit and I really hope you guys enjoy it!

The jail cell was cold that night. You would think I would be used to it by now, but tonight the chill was nearly unbearable. Despite the extra blankets (a gift from the prisoners I was told), I laid there shivering, trying to maintain some semblance of warmth.

After a few minutes of freezing, I sighed and reluctantly got out of bed. The coldness of the concrete floor leaked through my socks, causing another shiver to run through my body. I reached under my bed and pulled out a flashlight, another gift from the others. I wasn't sure where it had come from, but I was glad to have it nonetheless. Staying here for as long as I had, I knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Especially if the horse had a criminal record.

I silently made my way to the barred door and fished out a bobby pin from my pocket. It took days and weeks of begging, but Yancy had shown me how to open and close the cell doors in the prison, making this nighttime journey possible. I listened for the guards, but thankfully they all seemed to be elsewhere.

I gingerly stepped out of my cell and ran towards Yancy's. The halls were pitch black, but thanks to my handy dandy mystery flashlight, I could see exactly where I was going. By the time I reached his cell, I had started to realize how silly I was acting. Why am I doing this again? Then another chill ran through me and I remembered. Oh yeah. Cold. Maybe he could spare another blanket, or tell me where to get a heater of some sort.

I peeked through the bars and saw Yancy curled up on the top bunk, seemingly asleep. I fished out the bobby pin again and picked the lock, keeping an ear out for guards. After a few tense minutes, I managed to unlock the door and swung it open, wincing at the slight squeak of the hinges.

I entered the cell and slowly closed the door before making my way to the bunk bed. On the bottom bunk, Heapass was snoring away, occasionally mumbling in his sleep. I stood on my tiptoes and poked Yancy's cheek once, twice. On the third poke, he opened his eyes.

"Whu..." He said before rubbing his eyes and looking at me. "Oh, hey. What're youse doin' here?"

Just then a violent shiver ran through me, making me almost drop my flashlight.

Yancy sat up a bit, looking at me with furrowed eyebrows. "You cold?"

I nodded. He looked at me for a split second before scooting farther into the bed and patting it. "C'mon, let's getcha warmed up."

I hesitated. This wasn't... exactly what I had in mind. It was against the rules for inmates to share the same bed. I knew that, and I knew that Yancy knew it, but the stubborn cold was so damn persistent.

I glanced down at Heapass, who snorted and muttered something about a gongoozeler.

"Don't worry, he won't wake up. He's a deep sleeper, he is."

Finally, I took a deep breath and climbed up into the bunk bed, turning off my flashlight. I suddenly felt nervous all over again. The bed was incredibly narrow, and I was hyper-aware of the lack of space between us. If Yancy noticed as well, he was much better at hiding his awkwardness than me.

"Jeez, youse colder than a popsicle," He remarked as he wrapped the blankets around us. Like me, he had also been gifted with extra items, though his were slightly more worn than mine.

With some adjusting, we finally found a comfortable position for us both. The downside, it meant that Yancy was almost laying on top of me, making my heart beat faster than normal.

"Feeling better?" He asked softly.

I nodded, my face heating up like a kettle. I couldn't remember the last time I had someone hold me like this. It felt... nice. I was definitely warmer than before.

A moment later, I heard Yancy humming softly. It was the chorus of I don't want to be free, the musical number that he used to welcome me to this place. I felt my eyes growing heavier and heavier.

As my body finally relaxed and I was moments from falling asleep, the tune changed into something I didn't recognize. It was a soft melody, almost like a lullaby. It was the last thing I remembered before falling asleep.

-

BRIIING BRIIING. I groaned as the morning alarm blared, covering my head with the pillow. My least favorite part of the day.

In a flash, I suddenly remembered what happened last night. I sat up and looked around. I was back in my own bed, in my own cell. Was I dreaming? It felt so real though.

"Hey! Get your lazy butt up!" said the guard walking past, "It's time for breakfast!"

With another sigh, I got out of bed and made my way to the dining hall. I saw Yancy there, leaning over the table with a small pencil, scribbling furiously. I got my food and sat down next to him. He quickly folded up the paper and stashed it in his pocket before I could tell what it was. He looked up at me and smiled like normal, but there were slight bags under his eyes.

"Hey there," he said, "Didja sleep good?"

I nodded, wondering what he was doing that was so secretive.

"That's good. Glad to hear."

We sat together quietly, eating our gruel. I wanted to ask about last night, but I couldn't find a way to bring it up. Part of me still wasn't sure if it actually happened. And I didn't want to embarrass Yancy or myself if it turned out I was wrong.

As we brought up our empty plates to the kitchen, Yancy suddenly cleared his throat.

"I think the warden has a new pin today."

I frowned but turned to look at him. The warden was standing against the wall, staring down the prisoners as they ate. Unfortunately, he was too far away for me to check Yancy's claim. I then felt a slight tug on my clothes. I looked back at Yancy, but he just put his plate up and walked away, mumbling something about rehearsals. For a moment, I could've sworn he was blushing.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I looked back up, but Yancy was long gone. I started to open it, then a loud cough jolted me back to reality.

"Quit holding up the line." the chef barked at me. I quickly got out of the way and ended up back in my cell. I had a few more minutes until the legally allowed activities started. I pulled out the note again and unfolded it.

I didn't want to say anything in the dining room, cause I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable. But I'm glad that you trust me enough to come to me when you need something. That being said, if you ever get cold again or you just need a cuddle buddy, don't hesitate. Yours, Yancy.

There were a couple of marked-out words besides 'yours' as if he couldn't decide how he should've ended it. I found myself smiling, a bubbly feeling erupting in my chest. I read it a few more times before I absolutely had to leave. Tucking the letter into my pillow, I made my way to the yard, smiling the whole way there.

[lilacyennefer]

Forever is a long time

Anon asked:  “8) “I just wanna lay in your arms for the rest of my life.” With Raleigh Becket please ❤️

A/N: Raleigh Becket, my baby, my sunshine, my hubby, and my comfort character, who I love more than anything. I really love writing for Raleigh and I really loved writing this, so I only can hope that you guys will love it as much as I do. Raleigh really does mean so much to me so I tried to perfect this as much as I could, and I only can hope that I succeeded.

WARNINGS: none, it’s a bit melancholic in some places, but it’s mostly fluff

It’s not easy to carry the burden of saving the whole world on your back, knowing that billions of lives are depending on you and Raleigh. 

But it’s over now, you saved the world with your drift partner, Raleigh, and after many, many tests, both of you were okay. 

But the trauma you went through doesn’t go away quickly, you know it will take years, and you’re not even sure that it will disappear. 

The only reason why you haven’t gone completely mad yet is that you have Raleigh, someone who shared the same experiences with, and most importantly, your mind. 

Once you have been in someone’s head, there isn’t much to talk about. But it’s okay, you think. The comfortable silence you share with Raleigh is better than anything, knowing that you have him, and he has you.

Because that’s the truth, even though you know each other for a few weeks, your minds and hearts are connected, you’ve became one. 

Ghost drifting is an interesting experience, you’re no longer connected to a Jaeger, to a machine, to connect your minds, but somehow your minds still find a way to connect, share memories again, and current thoughts, hopes, and dreams.

Because both you and Raleigh have hopes, and maybe dreams now, that you got your future back. And of course, it’s with each other. Both of you are dreaming of a future where you’re together, and you’re finally happy, and you don’t have to worry about monsters coming from the sea to destroy you and your world. 

And this is what you’re doing right now, laying in bed with Raleigh, silently, thinking about your future with him. You don’t have to tell him what you’re thinking, your minds are connected again, so he knows every thought running through your mind, every memory, every feeling, and you know his. You don’t know yet where you will go after the Shatterdome closes for good, none of you have a home, nor family, but you have each other. 

You have each other, in each other’s arms. 

With your ear pressed to Raleigh’s chest, you can hear his steady heartbeat thumping against you, your head rises every time he breathes.

He’s here, safe. 

You try to push away the memory of you hugging Raleigh’s body, thinking he’s gone, and you lost him too. But then he finally breathed “You're squeezing me too hard.” against your neck, and the euphoria you felt when his words finally reached your brain, telling you that he's here, with you, and he’s fine. 

You forever will be connected to him, with your minds, and heart.

You feel Raleigh hug you closer, pulling you even closer to himself if it’s possible, since your bodies are already pressed together.

“I know.” is all what Raleigh whispers against your hair, breathing your scent in, allowing it to fill his lungs and relax his entire body, and soul. 

“I just wanna lay in your arms for the rest of my life.” you whisper against his chest, placing a soft skin on his clothed muscles. 

“You will. We have all the time in the world.” Raleigh told you.

And it was the truth. You had a lifetime to spend with each other, and so you did.

After the closing of the Shatterdome, Raleigh and you moved to a small town in Alaska. That’s where he was from, and he wanted to go back, so you agreed. It’s not like you had anywhere else to go, but even if you did, you’d have followed Raleigh anywhere.

You belonged to him.

You belonged together. 

So you bought a small cottage house in a small town in Alaska, close to the sea what Raleigh was insisting on. You didn’t have to ask why, you knew it already, you knew from memories, not yours, that your house is looking at the same beach where Raleigh landed with the Jaeger alone, after he just lost his brother, Yancy. 

The house was small, but really lovely. It didn’t have any other houses nearby, it was pretty far from the city, but not too far, and the beach was close, plus you had your own garden which Raleigh loved. He kept himself busy in the garden, he grew his own vegetables, which he was really proud of, and loved to cook with them. 

And you loved Raleigh’s cooking, oh you really did. You loved to sit in the kitchen with Raleigh while he was cooking, talking with him about anything and everything, and you loved to eat everything he cooked, because to your surprise, he was a good cook. 

Your garden also had a shed, in which Raleigh spent a lot of time in, he was still struggling with his insomnia, so you often woke up to an empty bed at nights, and without looking, you knew he was in the garden, doing whatever he did.

You didn’t ask, and you didn’t want to. It’s not like you had any secrets from each other, not after you’ve been in each other’s heads several times, it was more about giving each other some privacy, and complete trust. 

On your birthday, you woke up to an empty bed again, but you could smell some amazing scents coming from downstairs, you knew that Raleigh was preparing your favorite breakfast for you, and you waited for it in the bed. You didn’t have to wait long until Raleigh appeared in the bedroom with a tray, your favorite breakfast and a cup of tea on it, with a beautiful rose in a vase in the middle. 

“Happy birthday, my love.” Raleigh smiled as he sat down on the bed next to you, putting the tray in your lap.

“Thank you.” you give him a sweet, lingering kiss.

After breakfast he wanted to show you your birthday gift, so he led you downstairs, outside to the porch, his hand covering your eyes the whole time. 

“Open your eyes.” you hear Raleigh’s voice close to your ear.

When you opened your eyes, you gasped. 

There was a swing bed hanging from the ceiling of your porch, made by Raleigh himself. 

“Do you like it?” Raleigh asks nervously, and you turn towards him, tears in your eyes.

“Raleigh, are you kidding? I love it so much, thank you!” you wrap your arms tightly around Raleigh’s neck, hugging him close to you.  

“I saw in your memories how much you love these things. So I built you one.” you feel your tears fall from his words.

“No one ever did something so beautiful for me.” you sob into his neck, and you feel Raleigh’s arms tighten around you.

“I have one more surprise for you.” he whispers and kisses your forehead before he pulls away from you. 

Raleigh cupped your face in his hands, they were rough from the months of wood work, but you loved it. 

“After losing my brother, Yancy, I felt so lost. I didn’t have anyone, and nothing made sense. I was alive, but I wasn’t living, I was sitting in self pity, and I felt miserable, and lost hope. Until I met you. When we were in the Kwoon, fighting, and felt our minds connect for the first time, without any machines, it was just us. I knew it. I knew we were something special, and after we piloted Gipsy Danger for the first time, and we really had our minds connected, it was confirmed. I started feeling hopeful again, even though the world was ending, I felt somehow happy that I found you, and we could spend our last few days with each other. But we saved the world, and you saved me. And I’m forever grateful for that.” You see Raleigh pull a small, velvet box out of his back pocket before he kneel down in front of you. “Would you make me even happier, and become my wife?”

You were fully crying by the time Raleigh asked THE question, all you could do is nod furiously.

“Please, say it.” Raleigh asked you with a desperate voice and hopeful eyes.

“Yes! Yes, Raleigh, of course!!” you don’t even wait for him to put the ring on your finger, you jumped into his neck, sobbing. 

Your wedding was small, it was only you and Raleigh at the town hall, none of you mind it, but both of you wished your loved ones would be here. But it wasn’t possible. 

Years passed, and you made this small house your home with Raleigh. You expanded your little family first with a black, stray kitten Raleigh has found one day, you immediately adopted him. The kitten adored Raleigh, and Raleigh adored the kitten, he followed Raleigh everywhere, and he was always sitting with him in the kitchen when he was cooking, watching Raleigh’s moves.

The two of you went into the town more often, actually you made friends, and everyone knew who the two of you were.

Heroes. 

Heroes who saved the world. 

You were mainly friends with families with young children, but the kids didn’t know who the two of you are.

And that’s good like this, you thought. And Raleigh agreed. 

They were too young to remember the horrors of a Kaiju feared world, and their parents didn’t talk to them about it. 

And that’s okay. It’s over now. 

Many nights spent with little kids lead Raleigh and you to the decision that you should have a baby on your own. In any other circumstances, you’d have never brought this up, but you have a future now. 

A little over a year after you and Raleigh started trying, your son, Yancy was born. Deciding the name was easy, although Raleigh was too shy to bring it up first, but he didn’t have to, you told him you wanted to name your son after his brother. Raleigh cried when you told him this, making you cry too, but he happily agreed. 

Raleigh was a partner in your pregnancy as much as he could, he helped you in everything. 

This wasn’t different when it came to giving birth, he was by your side the whole time, helping your son to the world. 

When Raleigh held his son in his hands for the first time, he cried, and promised the boy that he will protect him no matter what, and he forever will keep him safe. 

And he did. 

As the years passed, Raleigh was an amazing father, and you an amazing mother. 

Years turned into decades, you grew older and older with Raleigh by your side, your son grew up, and he got married. A few years after his wedding, his first child, a little girl, was born.

Your grandchild. 

Raleigh and you were grandparents now, and the world was still safe, thanks to you.

A/N: I only realised after several readings that I, by accident, gave Raleigh a black cat and made the cat watch him while he cookc, which is exactly what Charlie has talked about in an interview when he said his black cat always watches him cook. This is just me rambling about how he really lives in my head rent free.

Tags: @innerpaperexpertcloud​ @agirllovespasta​ @lady-evans​ @oldstuffnewstuff​ @claudiahxrdy​ @keithseabrook27​ @alexa-rae-dreamz​ @minnicelli​ @woahitslucyylu​ @de-profundis-ad-astra​ @mylifeliterally​

[weirdlyobsessedwithegos]

Illinois x reader x Yancy

@ezuriel-moth-rps : Hey,,,,,,, a concept: soulmate wrist mark AU, right? But like,,, polyamorous people having a mark on each wrist. Thank u for ur time. h m. Illinois and someone? Idk who should be the other someone though. how many egos are there, RNG it

I chose Yancy since he’s my fav, and I’ve seen him being paired with Illinois several times, thought it would be interesting! And also, in this particular AU, the soulmark(s) only does something when you touch it directly, not just the person(s) you share your mark(s) with. Soulmarks can also look like pretty much anything, differs from relationship to relationship.

Having two soulmarks isn’t that unusual, but often, it could lead to questions you rather not answer. 

So you would always cover one or both up in some sort of fashion, often with a fancy bracelet or simple makeup. 

It didn’t help that yours was two one inch thick bands, one around each wrist. One yellow on your left and one blue on the right, so they often draws looks.

Of the two, you had met Yancy first.

You had met him in prison of all places, the both of you in there for crimes you definitely did commit, not that you ever planned on staying for long. 

And you didn’t. Yancy even helps you break out of the place even though you fought him and won just a few hours prior.

As he scratches the back of his neck while he explains why he isn’t outside the fence himself, you spot a familiar color on his wrist. He must have been wearing some makeup on it, because it certainly wasn’t there before. 

Transfixed, you reach out and grab his wrist, stopping whatever he was about to say as you pull his arm through the fence.

“What’se youse do-” He stops himself as he sees the color on his wrist, visible where it’s clear that his makeup had been smudged. He tries to tug his arm back, but you don’t let go, gently touching the little blue spot you can see.

“Hey, now-” He gasps as warm tingle makes its way up his arm. Looking at you with wide eyes, he gapes.

“Youse......” You nod, licking your thumb so you can use the wetness to rub away some makeup on your own wrists. Yancy lets out a shaky breath as he sees the matching blue and yellow appear. 

“I.... I’s thought I’s would never find any of youse.....” He stares at your wrists as you take both of his hands in yours. You kiss his knuckles, and when you look up there’s tears in his eyes.

“Please come with me.” 

“I belong here, this is my home....... For now at least.....” 

“If anything, you belong with me and our other. We belong together.” You can tell Yancy is close to crying. You let go of his hands, and he pulls back.

“Maybe when parole comes up, I’ll, I’ll give it a shot.” He starts to walk backwards, yelling about visitation. You look down at your box, and when you look up again, he’s gone. 

You’re alone.

You resist the urge to punch the metal fence.

--------

When you meet Illinois, is no less of a strange situation. You’re in a cave, a boulder comes rolling in, and after Illinois comes walking just behind it.

He somehow manages to convince you to go on a little adventure with him, walking backwards with confidence without getting hit by any traps, and flirting with you all the way.

You don’t really answer back much, but he keeps it up anyway. 

As you re-emerge from that monkey heaven, (which is what Illinois had expained it as), you still have the banana in hand. Illinois notices, but also sees the blue band around your wrist at the same time you do. 

Your makeup is completely gone (a side effect of the monkey heaven you think). Both you and Illinois freeze. Illinois carefully lifts up his left hand, and suddenly you notice the familiar yellow on his wrist. 

You let your hand with the banana drop, grabbing his wrist with your matching yellow band. 

The two of you stare down at your hands, as Illinois feel’s the warm tingle from his wrist travel up his arm. He twists his arm so he can grab your wrist as well, making the warm tingle travel up your arm too.

“You.....” 

“Yeah...” Illinois tries to pull away, but you don’t let him, pulling him into a hug. He stiffens up, but it only takes a few seconds before he is hugging back. When you pull back, the both of you are smiling at each other.

“Who would have thought I would meet one of my partners like this huh?” His smile is faking confidence, you can tell by his eyes how nervous he is.  

“And I know where our other is.” His eyes light up.

“You do?”

“Yes, and you have to help me convince him to take parole.” Illinois doesn’t seem to care to hear that one of his partners is in prison, picking you up with a big smile on his face, and spinning you around. 

Something pokes you in your back when he picks you up, so when he puts you down, you look and he’s holding a rock in his hand. Illinois notices, and brings it up so you can look at it better.

“Got it from the monkeys, it’s a little less impressive than your banana.” He shakes it, and as he does so, the rock emits a bright light, disintegrating and transforming into a big diamond. 

The two of you eye it in shock, before moving the focus to your banana. Carefully opening it up, you find it’s made of pure gold. You both let your gaze flicker between the two items, before busting out into laughter.

“At least it looks like we will all be provided for.” You say with a grin, Illinois nodding as he wipes a laughing tear from his eyes. 

As the two of you finally manage to stop laughing, you lock eyes. Slowly, very slowly, you reach up to cup Illinois cheek, stroking your thumb gently over his skin. Illinois leans into the motion and closes his eyes, and you can’t help but lean in and kiss him. 

You let the kiss be brief, just a press of your lips against his, but you almost immediately lean in for another one, which he is quick to return. 

You stay like that for a few minutes, before the weirdness of the situation hits you, and you have to break away from the kiss to laugh a little.

“What?” Illinois asks, straightening his hat from where it had become slightly askew.

“I just realised how bizarre my life is. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You smile at Illinois, and he returns it with a beaming smile of his own.

-------------

The first time you bring Illinois to visitation, Yancy is so happy, but almost burst into tears when the both of you put your hands against the plastic glass that separates the two of you from him in the little booth used for visitation. He presses his own hands against the glass, promising with a mix of laughter and crying in his voice that he promises to try for parole when it comes up.

That first meeting had ended way to soon for anyones liking, but after that, you and Illinois come every time visitation rolls around. (Yancy doesn’t let you call, since he wants to minimise the risk of anyone finding out you are an escapee, and Illinois doesn’t want any more benefits than you.) 

Both of you also write him letters, ranging from talking about adventures you have had, what kind of food the other person likes, and what you want to do when he gets out. 

Because he is getting out, no matter what. If he doesn’t make parole, you had threatened to break him out yourself. You did this during visitation once, causing Yancy and Illinois to laugh nervously, but you could tell they appreciated the sentiment.

You end up not needing to break him out, as a little over a year later, parole comes up, and Yancy is approved. When you read it in the letter he had sent to tell you the news, you had screamed of joy, running into the other room to let Illinois know. 

Illinois had smiled the biggest smile you had ever seen, you’re convinced if it wasn’t for his ears it would have been even bigger.

So a little while later, you find yourself leaning on the hood a car outside the prison, all nervous energy and jitters. Illinois is right next to you, a warm and heavy hand on your hip a comforting weight.

The door to the building opens, and out steps Yancy. You can see he spots you, almost matching your nervous energy, but he tries to take it slow, and not full on run his way out.

As he steps out the prison gates for the first time in years, he casts one last look over his shoulder at the building. 

As he turns back around, his arms are almost immediately filled with you, giving him the biggest and best hug you can. He draws in a sharp breath and hugs you back just as hard.

When he lets go of you, Illinois is standing right next to you, and he gently takes Yancy’s wrists in his hands, making the warm and familiar tingle travel up his arms. 

Yancy moves his arms so he can do the same, smiling hard, trying to hold back happy tears. Illinois pulls him into a hug as well, even giving Yancy a little spin like he does with you. 

Yancy laughs, and when Illinois puts him down again, Illinois plants a brief kiss on his lips. Yancy is stunned, so you step closer and lead his attention to you with a hand under his chin. Leaning in, you pause briefly, before letting your lips brush softly against his in a barely there kiss. 

Yancy, seemingly snapped out of his stupor, kisses you back, only breaking the kiss so he can kiss Illinois as well. This time it’s Illinois who is surprised, but he is quick to kiss back as he regains his composure. 

You have to tell them to slow down a bit, you’re still very not in the right place just yet, so they let you drag them over to the car. You give them both a quick kiss, settling in the drivers seat. They both get in the back, leaning against each other and holding hands on the whole way home as you smile at them trough the rearview mirror.

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Night and Day

Whumptober Day 29: I Think I Need A Doctor Prompt: Reluctant Bedrest

Illinois is stuck in the clinic recovering from his concussion, but he's not the only injured ego in the clinic. Yandere is there too, and both he and Lio are anxious to leave the clinic, but for different reasons. (cont. from “Fall From Grace”)

Warnings: References to injury, some angst

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober Series)

Enjoy!

~

Illinois isn’t the only one in the clinic right now, but as much as he hates being injured and stuck in bed, he understands he’s the one better off.

After all, he only has a concussion to push through, though it is a pretty bad one. One bed over, though, is Yandere, who has a couple fractured vertebrae, a broken shoulder, a gunshot wound to the stomach, and a concussion nearly as bad as Lio’s.

Lio had heard the story in pieces as Dr. Iplier treated Yandere and got him settled; the walls of the clinic rooms are thin, and Lio overhears almost everything without even trying. Apparently, Wilford accidentally shot Yandere while he was in the catwalks of the studio, causing him to fall and land right on his back. Lio may curse his bad luck, but maybe it was good that he fell on his head. At least he was still able to walk out of that cave.

But he won’t be doing any walking for a while. Dr. Iplier had taken one look at him and pretty much demanded he rest and stay in the clinic for further monitoring. “Rest” includes physical rest, but also cognitive rest.

“No reading, no screens, limited social interactions and only the lightest of activity,” Dr. Iplier had stressed, “And that’s for the next four or five days, maybe longer if I feel like you need it.”

Lio hates it, but there’s one person who doesn’t.

“Lio, doll, you almost died!” Yancy exclaims the first time Lio complains, “Youse got any idea how worried I was about you!? I call ya, you sound real fuckin’ weird, you tell me ya fell and hit your head, and then you stop talkin’ and won’t answer no matter what I say to youse!! I half-thought youse was dead, Lio!”

“I feel like I’m gonna die,” Lio mutters, “Of boredom. There’s nothing to do! I can’t even listen to an audiobook or stretch my legs out of this bed.”

“It’s so ya don’t get brain damage, doofus,” Yancy scolds him, pouting in a way that makes Lio want to kiss him, though he knows it isn’t the time. “Besides, hon, you could be worse. I just got done talkin’ to Yandere.”

Right, Yandere.

As much as Lio pities himself right about now, he can’t help but feel bad for Yandere. To be injured so grievously is one thing, but to be injured, even accidentally, by someone you love? He can’t imagine how it would feel, mainly because he can’t imagine Yancy or Magnum ever hurting him. Somehow Magnum is even more doting than Yancy when he visits.

“How are ye feeling, lad?” Magnum asks fretfully, puttering over Lio with his huge brows drawn together with worry. “Ye need a pillow, or another blanket, maybe yer hungry–”

“Mags, relax,” Lio tells him, unable to keep from chuckling, “I’m fine, all I need is to get outta here and back to adventuring again.” He sighs. “No chance of that yet, though.”

“Afraid not,” Magnum agrees, “I’ll warn ye now that if ye try leavin’ the clinic before Doc wants ye to, I’ll be puttin’ ye back to bed meself.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Lio admits. There’s not a single person in this building that Magnum couldn’t toss over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and carry wherever he pleases – except maybe the Googles, but even then, Lio bets Magnum could do it.

Yandere gets visitors, too. Yancy, of course, whenever he visits Lio. Chrome too, mostly to entertain Yandere by the sound of their conversations. Dr. Iplier probably checks on Yandere more than is strictly necessary, certainly more than he checks on Lio. Dark comes by too, and while it makes Lio uneasy to be around him, he’s not nearly as intimidating when he’s asking Yandere how he feels for the third time that day.

The only person close to Yandere who doesn’t visit him is Wilford.

Lio knows Wilford to be devil-may-care, unperturbed by blood and injury, even when it hurts those he loves. He’s heard stories from Bim about the times Wilford has gotten Bim shot or stabbed by accident, and according to Bim, Wilford never cared much about those. Half the time he didn’t even apologize, and he was never scared away from visiting Bim while he was healing. But hurting Yandere so gravely must’ve managed to give Wilford some guilt, enough to keep him away from Yandere’s bedside.

“Did you ask onii-san to visit?” Yandere asks Dark for the dozenth time.

“I did, love,” Dark replies for the dozenth time, “He always tells me he will, and then when I ask him why he hasn’t, he says he will this time, and so on.” He sighs. “I know from experience that getting Wilford to do something he doesn’t want to do is…challenging, to say the least.”

Lio can imagine.

“But why not??” Yandere whines, “I miss him, and I know he feels bad, but…I thought you said he was okay.”

“He certainly acts like it,” Dark says, “But there’s no way he isn’t still thinking about it. At this point, though, trying to talk to him about it will only make him worse.”

“I guess,” Yandere mutters. No, sniffles, Lio realizes.

“There now, love,” Dark soothes, “No need for tears. Just because Wilford isn’t visiting doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You know as well as I do how much he loves you.”

“I know,” Yandere says, quiet and sad, “I just…I want to talk to him, and I want him to stop blaming himself.”

After a couple days of this, Lio wakes up in the middle of the night to soft weeping.

He immediately feels awkward; he shouldn’t be hearing Yandere’s private grief. He debates pressing his call button to attract Dr. Iplier, so he can notice Yandere’s tears and comfort him. But that feels too weird, too underhanded. But he also can’t just lay there and listen to Yandere cry. It’s true that he and Yandere don’t get along the best – well, more like Yandere doesn’t get along with him. He still hasn’t forgiven Lio for breaking Yancy’s heart all that time ago, even though Yancy has. He’s civil enough to Lio for Yancy’s sake, but you’d never catch him alone with Lio if he can’t help it. Still, Lio can’t help but feel bad for Yandere, not to mention how tired he is of lying here doing nothing. That’s what makes him speak up.

“Um, hey…” he says, not sure how else to begin.

Yandere keeps crying. Either he can’t hear Lio or doesn’t know he’s being spoken to.

“Hey, Yandere,” Lio tries again, louder this time, “You alright?”

A dumb question, but Lio doesn’t know what else to ask. Yandere hears him that time, and his weeping stutters as he prepares to speak.

“No, y-yarou,” Yandere mutters, “The hell are you listening f-for anyway?”

Lio doesn’t know what “yarou” means, but he doubts it’s kind.

“I wasn’t trying to listen,” Lio says, “But you woke me up. It’s pretty to hear what’s going on in your room, even if I try not to.”

“How m-much have you heard?” Yandere asks warily.

“Most of it, I think,” Lio admits.

There’s a pause.

“Great,” Yandere mutters, annoyed enough that his tears are petering off. “If that’s true, what the hell are you asking me if I’m okay for? You already know what’s going on.”

“I’m trying to be nice,” Lio says, a little annoyed himself, “I didn’t want you to cry, and now you’re not crying anymore, so you’re welcome.”

“Ugh,” Yandere says, and Lio can practically hear the way his lip curls in irritation, “Whatever.”

Another pause.

“Sorry about…everything with Wilford,” Lio finally says, “Sounds tough.”

“I guess,” Yandere says, quiet. He thinks for a moment. “What happened, it…it reminded him of something. Have you seen the “Who Killed Markiplier” series yet?”

“No,” Lio answers truthfully. He hasn’t watched much of Mark’s videos, though he’s heard that particular series mentioned by the other egos before.

“Well, you’d understand if you had,” Yandere scoffs. “I just…” He sighs. “I just wish I could talk to him myself, get out of this stupid bed and find him.”

“You’re telling me,” Lio groans, staring at the ceiling. “I’ve wanted to get out of here for four days already.”

“Didn’t you get here four days ago?”

“Exactly.”

Yandere snorts despite himself, and Lio chuckles as Yandere quiets himself.

“You know, I think Yan-kun can tell how thin these walls are,” Yandere sighs, “Maybe not consciously, but he always seemed worried about getting overheard in here. Guess I should’ve taken the hint.”

“Sounds like Yancy,” Lio laughs, “But why would he be worried about getting overheard? I’m the only one here to listen.”

“Because,” Yandere replies, “He feels like you aren’t taking what happened to you seriously enough.”

“I mean, I knew that,” Lio says.

“Do you, though?” Yandere asks. A pause. “I was there when he called you, you know. He thought you were going to die. When you stopped answering him he thought he’d heard your last words. I had to tell Yami and Wil what was going on because he was crying too hard.”

Lio’s heart twists over itself. He had known Yancy was scared and worried, Yancy had said so himself, but he hadn’t known how bad it’d been for him.

“Really?” he can’t help but ask.

“Yeah,” Yandere says, “When you got brought to the clinic, Kaizoku-kun had to drag him out so Shishi could actually look him over. And now that you’re getting better, he’s still worried about you because he’s afraid you’re gonna go out and get hurt again, and it’ll be even worse this time.”

The worst part is that Lio can imagine it. He can imagine Magnum having to scoop up a screaming, sobbing Yancy and carry him away so Dr. Iplier could do his job. He can imagine that every time he complained about being cooped up, every time he wished he could go back to adventuring, every time he wanted to get out of bed and back into the wilderness stabbed Yancy in the heart to hear it. That all those wishes to go back to normal made Yancy fear what could happen to Lio next, made him fear that Lio had learned nothing and would go out and get himself killed. Lio hates that he couldn’t see it, hates that it took someone pointing out to him how distraught he made his boyfriend feel.

“Fuck,” Lio mumbles, “I guess I better apologize for worrying him.”

“Yeah, you should,” Yandere affirms, a tiny bit of smugness in his voice. Lio barely cares.

“I’ll fix my thing in the morning,” Lio says, “I hope your thing gets fixed soon, too.”

A pause, the longest one yet.

“Um, thanks,” Yandere mumbles, “You too, I guess.”

It takes Lio a while to fall back asleep as he tries to think of what to say to Yancy. It occurs to him that Wilford might be feeling similarly; wrestling with the knowledge that he hurt someone he loves so much and fearing that an apology isn’t enough.

~~~

Yancy doesn’t visit Lio until the afternoon, but Lio still hasn’t come up with an apology that feels right. It all feels too out of nowhere or not good enough, or like he’s apologizing for getting hurt more than he is for not taking it seriously. He knows Yancy wouldn’t blame him for a freak accident, apologizing for that piece of it feels wrong. But even just apologizing doesn’t feel like enough. This wouldn’t be the first time Lio hurt Yancy, and he wonders with some bitter sadness why Yancy still puts up with the pain Lio causes him.

So when Yancy comes in to talk to Lio, he acts like everything’s normal. He doesn’t complain about being stuck this time, but he can’t find the words to apologize – until Yancy starts to leave.

“Alright, I’ll letcha go,” Yancy says, getting up from the chair he’s sitting in, “But maybe I’ll come back later if Doc lets me.”

“Wait,” Lio says, internally cursing himself, “I have something I need to tell you.”

“Youse coulda said it anytime these past ten minutes, doll,” Yancy says teasingly, “I’m gettin’ outta here before Doc yells at me for makin’ ya use your brain too much.”

“Yancy, hold on!” Lio insists, reaching out and taking Yancy’s wrist, stopping him from walking away, “It’s important, babe, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

“Look, Lio, I know youse hate being bored,” Yancy says, and Lio can see the tired sadness in Yancy’s eyes now that he’s looking for it. “But youse gotta sit tight until Doc says you’re okay.”

“That’s just it, Yance, I…” Lio sighs, deciding it’s best to just be plain about it. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Yancy asks, confused enough that he doesn’t try to pull his arm out of Lio’s hand.

“You’ve been worried about me,” Lio says, “Even after I got rescued, you’ve been worried, and…and I’m sorry I haven’t been taking that worry seriously, or taking my recovery seriously.”

As he talks, Yancy’s expression goes from confusion to shock to holding back emotion, especially when Lio pulls Yancy back to his bedside, hand moving from his arm to clasp his hand in his own.

“I shouldn’t have kept blowing you off,” Lio murmurs, “And I should’ve been more focused on getting better instead of just getting out of here.”

Yancy sits back down in the chair by Lio’s bed, looking down.

“I said I half-thought youse was dead before,” Yancy mumbles, voice thick, “But that ain’t true. I fully thought you were dead, or about to be. I was such a mess I could barely tell Dark what was happening. I worry every time you travel, and it just…” Yancy chokes a little. “It was my worst fear come true. And hearin’ youse complain about every little thing, about having to stay here and heal, just…made me wanna scream sometimes. Made me feel like youse didn’t care, about me or about yourself.”

“Jailbird,” Lio murmurs, reaching out his free hand to cup Yancy’s cheek. The action makes Yancy finally look up, and Lio isn’t surprised to see and feel tears on his cheeks, but it still breaks his heart. “I do love you, and I sure do care about getting better. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way.” He strokes Yancy’s cheek, catching tears. “I’m thinking I’ll stay home for a while once I heal. Maybe take you on one of the local hiking trails, one where the worst that could happen to me is a sprained ankle, but otherwise just chill out.”

“Is that just to make me feel better?” Yancy asks, managing a grin, “It’s workin’, for the record.”

“Kinda,” Lio admits, “But I’d also rather not go out and get myself hurt again.”

“Good answer,” Yancy chuckles, leaning forward to kiss Lio. Lio meets him partway, tastes salt on his lips.

“I love you,” Lio murmurs as they pull away.

“Youse said that already,” Yancy teases, “But I love youse too.” After a quiet moment, Yancy sighs. “Now I really gotta go, before Doc realizes I’m still here.”

“Alright, alright,” Lio laughs, letting go of Yancy’s hand. “I might get to leave tomorrow, though; he told me this morning. I’ll finally be able to talk to you longer than ten minutes at a time.”

“We’ll see,” Yancy says, though he’s still smiling. “See youse, freebird.”

“Bye, angel,” Lio replies as Yancy leaves the room.

Lio expects Yandere to say something after Yancy leaves, but surprisingly, he doesn’t. Maybe he’s sleeping, or too engrossed in whatever he’s doing to eavesdrop. Either way, Lio is glad Yandere brought the problem to his attention, even if it was just to have something to be smug about.

Lio can only hope Yandere’s problem can be solved soon.

~~~

That night, Lio is once again woken by the sound of Yandere crying. But before he can think to talk to him again, he hears another, much deeper voice soothing him.

“I thought you were waiting for me to visit,” playfully chides the accented voice of Wilford, “What are all these tears for?”

“Y-You wouldn’t visit,” Yandere whimpers, “I started th-thinking that maybe, maybe it was m-me…”

“It wasn’t you,” Wilford says, “It…it wasn’t you at all.” His voice sounds far away.

“Yami said what h-happened reminded you of…back then,” Yandere murmurs carefully, still sniffling a little. “I guess it makes s-sense.”

“I still feel bad,” Wilford admits, “You’d gotten hurt, by me no less, and all I did was stand there.” A pause. “I was too wrapped up in myself to worry about you.”

Lio is shocked. To call Wilford “self-involved” is an understatement, at least as far as Lio knew. He knew Wilford was feeling guilty, but for him to have such self-awareness is unexpected. Now Lio feels bad about eavesdropping, but it’s not like he can’t not hear what’s happening. Wilford’s voice carries even without him trying.

“It wasn’t your fault!” Yandere exclaims, “You didn’t mean to hurt me, and I’m fine now! Or I will be soon, Shishi said I only have to be here for a few more days.”

“I know,” Wilford sighs, “But then I went and made you upset while you were trying to get better. I knew I should see you, and I wanted to, I just…wasn’t sure if I could…manage.”

“I get it,” Yandere says softly, so quiet that Lio almost doesn’t hear it. “I have my own stuff. Not like you, but…we both have weird stuff in our brains.”

“That’s a way to describe it,” Wilford chuckles.

“I’m glad you came, though,” Yandere adds, “Even though it’s so late at night. Why now, anyway?”

“Figured I’d already waited too long,” Wilford says flippantly, “And besides, I knew you wouldn’t expect it! Was it a fun surprise?”

“Hai!” Yandere laughs, “But not so loud, Wil, if Shishi hears you and comes in he’ll get mad at you for visiting so late!”

“Oh, let Dr. Crabbypants get mad at me,” Wilford scoffs, “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

Ah, now he’s starting to sound like the Wilford that Lio is more familiar with.

“I’m also tired,” Yandere giggles, “And if I try to stay up all night, Shishi’ll definitely notice in the morning. And if I’m really tired, I won’t be able to cover for you!”

“Well, if you insist, I suppose I’ll let you get some sleep,” Wilford chuckles, “But I’ll be back to bother you again tomorrow.”

“Promise?” Yandere asks earnestly.

“Of course, otouto,” Wilford answers, gentle and fond.

“Good,” Yandere says, audibly relieved. “I love you, onii-san.”

“Love you too, kid,” Wilford replies, before the signature poof of him teleporting away sounds from Yandere’s room.

The last sound Lio hears from Yandere’s room is a happy sigh and the rustling of Yandere settling into bed for sleep.

Lio does the same, feeling much better at heart than he did the night before.

[nevernotwriting]

You, Me, and Yancy | Chapter 8: Rooftop Relations

Read me on AO3!

Previous chapter

Several weeks earlier…

“All right, here we are.”

Mark stopped the car and the two of you got out, grabbing your duffel bags from the backseat. The slam of the car doors echoed in the empty parking garage as the two of you made your way to a door reading “EMPLOYEES ONLY”.

This was your third rooftop night shift, but your stomach was filled with more butterflies than ever before, because this was your first one with Mark. You’d been eager to spend more time with him after how warmly he welcomed you to the group, and now your wish had finally come true.

“After you,” Mark said, opening the door for you. He tipped his beanie towards you as if it were a fedora.

“Cheesy,” you snorted, walking through the door. Mark followed you.

“Cheesy is my middle name!”

You ascended an endless staircase, eventually reaching one final door. Opening it, you stepped out onto the rooftop of the Glendale Galleria.

The glass sections of the roof revealed that the inside was lit up in a brilliant white. This was your first indicator that this place definitely had a night shift. You sighed internally, your last flicker of hope for an early night dying.

Mark finally appeared in the doorway, laying down his bag and walking to the edge of the rooftop. You joined his side as he stared out at the grid of lights that stretched in every direction as far as you could see.

“Nice view,” he commented.

“I prefer the one back home.”

“Oh yeah?” Mark turned to you with a curious expression.

“Yeah. You can actually see the stars at my parents’ house. And the Milky Way, if you turn the porch lights off.”

“That’s pretty awesome,” Mark smiled. “But who needs the Milky Way when you’ve got LA’s light pollution, right?”

You rolled your eyes with a loving smile. “Funny.”

“Funny is my middle name.”

“I thought cheesy was your middle name.”

“I have two.”

The two of you descended into laughter before picking up your bags once more and surveying your surroundings.

“All right, so what’s the plan here?”

Mark produced a rolled-up piece of paper from his bag; it was the map that Shrike and Gareth had compiled between them a few days prior. Mark scanned it and flitted his eyes up to the roof every few seconds. “Shark wants us to keep an eye on the guard rotation around the Swarovski store, which, according to this map, should be right… there.” He pointed to the largest glass dome in the middle of the roof.

“How about we get a quick scope of the whole place first, then settle in on the Swarovski store?” You suggested. “Might come in handy to know how many guards there’re gonna be overall.”

Mark nodded. “Good call.”

The two of you began to walk together from one edge of the roof to the next, sharing the map and marking out each guard you saw in light pencil. You caught Mark watching you out of the corner of your eye and you glanced at him, surprised to see an impressed smile on his face.

“You’re really good at this. And this is only, what, your third night shift?” His eyebrows raised along with his question.

You smiled, looking back down at the map. “Not like it’s hard.”

“Awh come on Zero, just take the compliment.”

“And if I don’t?” You teased.

“Well then this is gonna be a long night.”

You snorted, throwing your head back in laughter and continuing to walk. “That’s what I said to myself five minutes into what was possibly the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

Mark laughed, following you. “Oh no. What happened?”

You groaned. “I had to do like, ninety-nine percent of the talking. No joke. Me. Doing all the talking. You’ve seen how quiet I can be at work. God it was a nightmare, like why would you agree to a date with me if you don’t even really wanna be there?”

Mark shot you a sympathetic look as he scribbled on the map. “Maybe they were just super shy? But either way, that’s pretty rough. I’m sorry.”

You shrugged your shoulders. “No harm done. What about you, what’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?”

Mark paused, pursing his lips and looking up at the sky. “There was this one time I was asked to fill out my birth chart and do some online personality test before the date even started. That was… weird.”

You laughed, gasping in disbelief. “And how did that go?”

“Oh, the date?” Mark looked back down at you. “Technically, it didn’t even happen. My date decided we weren’t compatible cause I’m a Cancer and an extrovert, or some shit.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.” Mark grinned at you.

 After about ninety minutes of slowly working your way up and down the roof and sharing stories, you and Mark finished up at the largest glass dome overlooking the Swarovski store. You were about to settle onto the cold concrete of the roof when Mark pulled out two foldable camping chairs from his duffel bag.

“Did you really think I was gonna let you sit on a roof all night without a bit of comfort?”

“Shrike did,” you replied, standing back up.

“That’s cause she’s an alien. I’m a human being.”

“That’s exactly what an alien would say if they were trying to pass as a human.”

“You got me,” Mark laughed, holding his hands up. “Got binoculars?”

You fished them out of your bag, throwing a pair to him. “Catch!”

Panic crossed his face, but he caught them just in time. “See that? Cat-like reflexes.”

“Sure thing, Catwoman.” You rolled your eyes, looking through your own pair of binoculars.

“Ten-fifteen, no guards,” you mumbled under your breath. Mark jotted down your observations on the sides of the map.

“What time d’you think they turn the lights off here?” You asked.

Mark shrugged. “Hopefully soon. It’s a little blinding.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “Must be weird walking through a dark empty mall at night though. I dunno why, but it makes me think of this video game my friend made me play in college. You played as a security guard in a haunted pizzeria.”

“Not that animatronics one.” Mark’s voice was flat with dread.

You removed the binoculars from your eyes, shooting him a surprised look. “Yeah! You know it?”

“Man, don’t even talk to me about that game.”

You laughed. “It had me sleepless for days as well.”

There was silence between you two for several minutes as you went back to the task at hand, until Mark broke the silence once more.

“How’d you get into video games?”

You leaned back in your chair, surprised again at the inquisitive look Mark was giving you. You played with the binoculars in your hands.

“My dad got me into them, actually. He was always really into them as a kid, all the retro stuff. We used to spend a few nights each week completing a video game together whenever I was home.”

“That’s cute,” Mark smiled. “Do you miss Pennsylvania?”

Your stomach flipped. You normally hated that question, but something about the sincere, gentle look Mark was giving you made you want to open up to him even more.

“A little,” you replied, sitting forward and glancing down. “But LA is starting to feel like home. It took a while, but I’m getting there.”

You looked at Mark again. Your stomach continued flipping as a sweet smile spread across his face.

“Good.” His answer was so quiet you almost missed it.

“Y’know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually asked where you’re from, Mark.”

Amidst the darkness, you could’ve sworn a hint of pink spread across his cheeks. “Oh, it’s fine. I’m from Ohio originally.”

“Shut up! We were state neighbours this whole time and you never told me?”

Mark’s eyebrows raised as he let out a hearty laugh. “Yeah, I guess we were! But hey, look at us both now, living it up in the big city.”

“Damn right we are!” You held out your hand for a high five. Mark accepted it, the singular clap reverberating into the night.

 You settled into another comfortable silence, only breaking it to make the occasional remark about the guard patterns. When the lights finally dimmed inside the mall, you and Mark let out a quiet cheer of relief. You dug your phone out of your bag to check the time, surprised to see that it was 12:30 am.

“Wow. Time flies, huh?” You flashed your phone screen at Mark.

“Sure does when you’re having fun,” he smiled back, jotting down another note on the side of the map. “Lights out, twelve-thirty.”

You stuffed your phone back into your bag, turning away to hide the huge grin that appeared on your face.

“By the way, what was that on your lock screen?”

Heat flushed to your face as you retrieved your phone once more. Damn this guy, he doesn’t miss a beat.

You passed your phone to him. “It’s the view of the city from the Griffith Observatory. I’ve not actually been up there yet, but I found that picture online and I liked it, so…”

Mark raised his eyebrows at you in disbelief as he gave you back your phone. “You’ve never been there? You should totally go!”

“I know, I know. I just didn’t have time what with school. It just fell to the back of my to do list.”

Mark hummed in response, but he was staring at the sky as if he were lost in space. He bit his lip.

“I could take you there some time. If you wanted,” he offered. His voice was uncharacteristically quiet once again.

“That’d be fun.” You smiled, trying to keep your cool despite the butterflies filling your stomach.

Out of nowhere, a chilling breeze picked up. You shivered violently with a groan of protest, rubbing up and down your arms.

“Son of a bitch, where did that come from?”

Mark reached for something in his bag. “LA weather can still surprise you sometimes. Here, put this on.”

He threw something black onto your lap. You picked it up, realising it was one of his sweatshirts. You cast him a bashful smile. The hit of warmth was immediate when you snuggled into the garment, and a faint smell of cologne enveloped you. You sighed happily to yourself.

“You’re not getting this back.”

“I figured you’d say that.”

 After another hour and yet more watching and waiting, you heard Mark’s stomach rumble faintly. An idea popped into your head. You reached into your bag, pulling out a large flask and holding it out to him.

“Here.”

Mark took the flask, unscrewing the lid and sniffing with a curious frown. “What is this?”

“Chicken soup.”

“You brought soup?”

“Well we’re gonna be out here for a while, what did you bring?”

“… Cookies.”

You shook your head. “Good thing you have me to keep you in check. Go on, it’s homemade.”

Mark took a sip. His eyes lit up in delight.

“Damn Zero, that’s good. You made that?”

“Mhmm,” you nodded. “Family recipe. Warms you right through to your bones.”

“In which case,” Mark began, a hint of mischief in his voice as he handed the flask back to you. “If you have this, can I have my sweatshirt back?”

“Nope!”

Mark leant back in laughter, picking up his binoculars again. “So, you’re stubborn and a good chef. I’m learning a lot tonight.”

You scoffed back at him, retreating further into his sweatshirt.

“Chicken soup’s my favourite kind actually.”

“Yeah?”

Mark hummed, binoculars still glued to his eyes. “My mom used to make it for me when I was sick. You’d think I’d hate it cause of that reminder of feeling crappy, but the opposite happened.” He lowered the binoculars, gazing at you for a few seconds in silence. “I guess it just reminds me of… I dunno, that I have people lookin’ out for me.”

Your heart felt like it had been lit on fire. You swallowed, trying to summon the right words, but your mind was blank. You managed a shy, wordless nod, pulling down the sleeves of Mark’s sweatshirt to cover your hands.

 The next few hours seemed to fly by in a matter of minutes. By the time you were satisfied with the guard rotations you’d mapped out, it was nearly six in the morning. Your eyes felt like they had papercuts, and your brain ached for a dark room and warm blankets. You and Mark packed away your equipment into your bags. Just as you were about to make your way to the door, Mark unexpectedly grabbed your hand.

“Wait, this is the best part.”

“Whaaaat?” You groaned, desperate for sleep.

Mark led you to the edge of the rooftop once more. “Trust me, it’ll only take a couple of minutes, and it’s more than worth it.”

You looked across the landscape ahead of you. You were about to ask what the fuss was about when bright orange hues bled into the sky from the horizon, and everything stopped.

The sun was slowly rising over the city, bathing all of the buildings in a brilliant orange light. Wispy clouds drifted along, interfering with the sunbeams and creating dancing patterns in the sky. Your eyes widened, a small gasp escaping your mouth.

“You know, I’ve never really stopped to notice this before,” you admitted.

Mark turned to you. “Are you glad you did?”

You nodded at him. “Yeah.”

It dawned on you in that moment, after having looked at him through hours of darkness, just how incredible his eyes were. The early morning light blazed in them, highlighting all the brilliant brown tones that intertwined and danced with one another.

You cleared your throat, taking in a deep breath of the crisp air. Mark looked away, adjusting his bag on his shoulder.

“We, uh…” he shifted on the spot, smiling at the rising sun and scratching the back of his head. “We make a pretty good team, don’t we?”

You grinned back at him harder than ever before. “We sure do.”

Next chapter

[wheres-everyone-going-bingo]

Ay, your writing! Is good! Mobster Kaiel here to say I'm talkin in a weird accent fo no reason otha than the fact I wrote ay and it's activated some sorta sleepa agent in me! Can I have some poly Wilford x reader x Yancy in which the bois continuously try to get reader to fall for them only to serenade em? Im soft over errreee!!!!

Late Night Serenade

Pairing: Wilford x Male Reader x Yancy

Warnings: none

—————-

Lifting up my blankets, I slid into them, taking pleasure in the comfort they provided.

“Hey Y/N!” A voice spoke, I yelped, falling out of bed. “Oh! Sorry didn’t mean to startle you” I looked up to be met with Wilford’s hand pulling me back to my feet.

“Wil, what are you doing in my house?” I asked the man in my bedroom

“Well you see, when you were talking to Bing, I may have taken your key and made a mold of it, and used that mold to make a key, and used that key to get into your house” He explained, waving his key around, obviously very proud of his craftsmanship.

“Oh uh okay then… So why are you here?” I rocked on the heels of my feet, looking around the room awkwardly.

“To see you, why else?”

“Uh alright, let me put normal clothes on and we can hang out downstairs” I offered, gesturing to the fact that I was only wearing a pair of boxers.

“Do you have to put normal clothes on, I quite enjoy the view?” Wilford said, making the blood rush to my cheeks. I shooed him out of the room, and told him to wait downstairs.

“Do you have any sugar?” Wilford asked as I descended the stairs.

“No, I don’t think so, why?” I tilted my head, making my way to the couch.

“Just confirming the fact that you had to throw it away cause you sat on it”

“Wilford what do you mean, I sat on-”

“Because you have a sweet ass” He chuckled to himself, joining me on the couch. I look at him wide eyed, trying to decipher whether he’s joking or not. I decided just not to question the man beside me, and faced the tv, flicking through the various movies and shows until we could both agree on something to watch.

Stretching out my arms, I let out a yawn, needing to go to sleep hours ago.

“You tired?” Wilford asked, looking at me concerned

“Yeah, I was going to go to bed a few hours ago but you came over? Why do you look so concerned?” After I said that Wilford jumped from the couch, the sudden movement made me jump.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re a bit jumpy aren’t you. I’ll try to calm down for you” He apologised, taking my hands in his, leading me to my bedroom.

Wilford opened the door, entering, still holding my hands.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think about how you have to sleep. Time gets a bit confusing” He rambled, pointing to his head. I walked over to my bed, getting in it. I stared up at the pink moustached man above my bed

“Are you going to leave? I can’t really sleep with you above me” I told him, Wilford immediately apologized, leaving my room. As he left the room my exhaustion took over and I fell asleep, not noticing Wilford turning around to tuck me in and give me a kiss on my forehead before leaving.

----------

I walked through the crowded shopping centre. My eyes skittered from person to person, nervous about the suffocating crowd.

“Y/N, Earth to Y/N’s” I swung around in my panicked state, realising that Yancy was talking to me about something

“Sorry Yance, I zoned out” I nervously laughed, trying to cover up my anxious state. It obviously didn’t work as he gave me a worried look

“Are youse okay?”

“I-uh… not really?” I sighed, glancing around the crowd once more

“What's up with youse? The crowd too bigs for youse?” He asked, as I nodded “Okie, here, have this, it should keep youse safe” He smiled at me, pretending to pull something out of his pocket, revealing it to be his hand. I laughed at his corny antics, taking his hand nonetheless.

Resurfacing from the crowd on the other side of the mall, I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

“Thanks Yancy, I don’t really do crowds” I said, rubbing the back of my neck

“Youse may not do crowds but youse could do me” Yancy said, quickly covering it up with a laugh. I tilted my head, silently questioning the sincerity of that comment. “Sorry Y/N youse just so handsome thats it makes me say things out louds sometimes” Yancy confessed, avoiding eye contact

“Thanks Yance, you’re very handsome too” I smiled, completely oblivious to his flirty intent. Yancy sighed, watching his pick up line go straight over my head.

“So how’s patrol treating you?” I questioned Yancy as we ate some fast food at a greasy table.

“It’s alright, muchs better because I get to see youse stunning face everydays instead of every third sundays for forty minutes” He answered, taking a sip from his fizzy drink.

“I think you mean worse” I chuckled to myself

“No, I’s mean better, youse face is what I’s sees in my best dreams”

“Thanks Yance” I laughed, taking it as nothing more than a friendly compliment.

---------

“I can’t take it anymore! He never takes what I say as flirting!” Wilford complained, doing his usual over pronunciation.

“The Host thinks that maybe Wilford should tell Y/N that Wilford loves him to his face as there is no way to take that as a friendly compliment” Host offered his advice to the crazed man sitting beside him. The door swung open with a loud bang as it his the wall, in the doorway stood Yancy, looking as frustrated as Wilford.

“Youse will not believes how clueless Y/N is” He announced, walking into the room and flopping dramatically onto the couch.

“The Host smiles to himself, already knowing this conversation all too well”

“Hey, who’s else is trying to get Y/N attentions?”

“I am” Wilford admitted in a sing song voice, his tone not matching the serious conversation.

“Hey looks, if youse help me outs with Y/N then we let hims choose between us, no fighting?” Yancy suggested, needing help with his dire situation, just wanting to make his feelings known even if they’re not requited.

After some brainstorming and advice seeking from the other egos, the pair had come up with a plan.

--------

I walked over to my night stand, placing a bottle of water on it. I was getting ready to go to bed when I heard music from outside my window. Confused, I walked over to the windowsill, looking out of it to see Yancy and Wilford at the bottom of my driveway. Before I could ask what the hell they were doing, Wilford started to strum the guitar that he held in his hands.

“I was alone so long

I didn't even know that I was lonely

Out in the cold so long

I didn't even know that I was cold

Turned my collar to the wind

This is how it's always been” Yancy sung, really putting his heart into it. I smiled down at the two men under my window, trying to figure out why they were singing to me.

“All I've ever known is how to hold my own

All I've ever known is how to hold my own

But now I wanna hold you, too” Wilford started to join in, his voice wasn’t as smooth as Yancy’s but you could tell he was trying.

“You take me in your arms

And suddenly there's sunlight all around me

Everything bright and warm-”

“Hey assholes! People are trying to sleep!” My neighbour shouted at Yancy and Wilford, clearly unamused by their loud night antics. I laughed, disappearing from view to unlock my front door.

I gestured for them to come in to continue their musical performance. They entered my home, Wilford starting to strum once more.

“And shining like it never did before

And for a moment I forget

Just how dark and cold it gets” Yancy continued, not at all affected by the fact he was interrupted.

“All I've ever known is how to hold my own

All I've ever known is how to hold my own

But now I wanna hold you

Now I wanna hold you

Hold you close

I don't ever wanna have to let you go”

“Now I wanna hold you, hold you tight

I don't wanna go back to the lonely life

I don't know how or why

Or who am I that I should get to hold you?

But when I saw you all alone against

The skies like I'd known you all along”

“I knew you before we met

And I don't even know you yet

All I know is your someone I have always known”

“All I know is your someone I have always known

And I don't even know you

Now I wanna hold you

Hold you close

I don't ever wanna have to let you go”

“Suddenly the sunlight

Bright and warm

Suddenly I'm holding the world in my arms” Wilford, sung, stumbling over a few lines, implying the fact that it was Yancy’s choice of song, confirmed by the fact that it was from a musical.

“Say that you'll hold me forever

Say that the wind won't change on us

Say that we'll stay with each other

And it will always be like this

I'm gonna hold you forever

The wind will never change on us

As long as we stay with each other

Then it will always be like this” They sang together, trying to stay in harmony, with one not being louder than the other. After they sang the last line they bowed, pretending to catch flowers from the crowd.

“Jeez you guys are old fashioned” I chuckled, the nerves starting to affect the two men in front of me.

“We uh, we just wanted to uh-” Wilford stumbled over his words, waving his hands about in wild gestures, trying to find the words he wanted to say

“We’s wanted to tell youse we’s love youse” Yancy continued for Wilford

“In a romantic way” Wilford added on, determined for me to not take it as a friendly comment. My face started to heat up at the confession, the reality of the situation kicking in.

“You guys… love me?” I questioned, wanting to make sure it wasn’t some kind of cruel prank.

“Yes, that’s why we’s always flirtin with youse” Yancy confirmed, Wilford nodding in agreement.

“Oh my god, I thought this whole time that you were just being friendly. I just didn’t think guys like you could like a guy like me”

“A guy like you? You mean the most breathtakingly divine man in existence?” Wilford spoke, gesturing to me, as if that would reveal to me how he saw me.

“So?” Yancy asked, waiting for an answer

“Oh yeah, uh I love you too” I replied

“Which one?” Wilford enquired

“Both? I love you both” This reply shocked the two men, but soon after they let out a sigh of relief, happy that one of them didn’t have to miss out.

“Good, we’s were thinkin we’s have to make youse choose” Yancy rubbed the back of his neck. I smiled at him shaking my head. I walked over to the pair, giving a peck on the lips of each one.

[orange-waterfalls]

Home

Yancy x gender neutral!reader

@fuchsia-vision ty for the prompt!

A/N: This is my first fic so go easy on me lol. It's rated T for a couple curses. It doesn't actually use any pronouns at all so gender neutral???

Word count: 1.6k

Yancy turns and walks back to the prison. He sighs, opening the door and heading back to his cell. He keeps thinking about your handsome and/or beautiful face. He begins to think about what would've happened if he'd gone with you. You two could buy a house, more likely an apartment, you could get a dog, you could get jobs you enjoyed, you could be together. You two could be… happy. Together.

What's he thinking? You'd never like him. At least… not in the way he likes you. He's not worth it. He grins when he thinks of the smile on your face when he suggested helping you break out. He really hopes you'll visit… and who knows? Maybe parole will roll around pretty quick.

He sneaks through the halls, carefully avoiding the guards and making it back to his cell. He lays on his bunk and closes his eyes, falling asleep with the thought of you in mind.

You, on the other hand, have no thoughts of sleep. You haven't even left yet. Reason 1, you thought it'd be kind of a dick move to leave Mark like that. Reason 2, you were breaking Yancy out, whether he liked it or not. Now, you have a plan. It's a pretty shit plan, but it's a plan. You'd go in through the same way you came out, grab Yancy, grab Mark, then leave. Perfect. Apart from the fact that you had worn a blindfold and have no idea where you're going. You'd forgotten about that. You sigh, trying your best to remember what had happened. Was it a left? No, it was a right. Or… was it up? This would take a while.

What took Yancy 30 seconds takes you 30 minutes. You get pretty lost on the way and somehow managed to get back outside. On the bright side, you found Mark in the infirmary and grabbed him. He was a bit woozy from the painkillers, but he understood the plan. He said it was shit. You debated throwing him back in, but eventually decided against. He made his way to the door to the outside while you make your way to Yancy. You're just about to give up when you hear a voice mumble something.

"Yous guys is gonna regret that…" Yancy slurs in his sleep. You run over to where you heard it come from and sigh in relief. He's clutching his pillow and snoring slightly in his bunk. You stand there for a minute, admiring how adorable he is, before taking the skeleton key out and unlocking the cell quietly. You tiptoe over to him and kneel down in front of his bed.

"Psst… Yancy… C'mon, we gotta go," you gently shake him. He groans and slowly stirs awake. It takes a moment for his vision to clear and he sees your face. "Hey buddy," you repeat his words from when he helped you escape earlier that night.

"Oh… I'm still dreamin'," He concludes.

"No," you shake your head, "I'm real. And you need to get your ass up out of there." His eyes widen as he quickly sits up, hitting his head against the top bunk and falling out of bed. You pull him to his feet and hold his shoulders to keep him steady. He holds yours to keep you there in case you would just disappear as soon as he let go. He looks all over your face for any sign of something, a joke, a… a prank, something that tells him this isn't real. Of course he wants it to be real, but you never know.

"What's yous doin' here?!" He whisper-shouts, "Yous was supposed to go back to yous's peoples! Why's yous here?!" You move your hand to his face and he leans into your touch.

"You're coming with me. I am not leaving after all we've been through." You state.

"I've known yous for three hours," He squints at you.

"Time is a construct," you shrug. "Besides, I already got a friend outside, you're not bailing now." He is now completely convinced you are the love of his life. You grab his hand and walk towards the hallway. He doesn't budge from his place in the cell. You look back at him and tilt your head, confused. He sighs and lets go of your hand.

"Listen… I really like yous, I really do… but…" you turn towards him fully. He looks at you. "I belong here… I already told youse, I done a lot of bad things. Bad things get peoples in here. I don't think I can go back out there…" You walk up to him.

"Yancy." You say. He avoids your gaze. You narrow your eyebrows. "Yancy" you say more sternly. He looks at you. "I really don't care whatever you did. All I know is that you are wonderful and…" you pause, thinking about whether or not you should say it. He lifts his head.

"And?" he urges you to continue.

"And…" you inhale deeply. "And I'm pretty sure I'm starting to fall in love with you." You finish. You stare at the ground, not wanting to look at him. You force yourself to look up at him and see the happiest face a man can make.

"Youse shoulda led with that." He comments. "Alright," He grabs your hand. "Let's go."

You both quietly leave the cell, locking it behind you. He leads, navigating the halls much faster than you did.

"So, how'd yous even get back here? I covered youse's eyes wit a blindfold." He asks. You chuckle nervously.

"Well… uh… I just kinda-" you're cut short by a yell from behind.

"They're here!" The guard yells.

You curse under your breath. Yancy squeezes your hand in a comfort attempt and runs. You can see the flashlights following you as you navigate the prison. You struggle a bit to keep up with him with all the twists and turns. At one point, you jump into a sewer.

"So I was supposed to go up," you say to yourself. You keep going until you finally find a place to hide. You stay until the guards give up and continue looking elsewhere. You both sigh and laugh at the fact that you made it. You look down and your intertwined hands and flush. Yancy does the same as he removes his hand and clears his throat.

"S-So, uh, yous gots a friend waiting for us?" He asks.

"Yup." You nod. "His name's Mark. He's the reason I'm here in the first place." You explain. Yancy knits his eyebrows together.

"He got yous in jail?" He asks, a tad peeved. You shrug.

"Well… I did agree to rob a museum. Plus, I chose the helicopter when neither of us could fly it, so…" you look to the side. Yancy stares at you for a moment and you get nervous, thinking he thinks that you're stupid. Then, he laughs.

"Yous… yous is insane. I like yous a lot. And this Mark guy… he sounds cool. Yous is both gonna be fun to hang out with," he smiles comfortingly at you. You grin and grab his hand, knowing where to go from here. You run out the door and see Mark at the gate. He waves to you and you wave back. You run over to him, Yancy's hand in yours.

"Hey! Oh my God, I thought you got caught for a minute there… God, I am so relieved you…" he stopped when he saw you and Yancy hand-in-hand. You both blush. "So, uh… is this a thing now? Because if so, I need to ready the guest bedroom at the base."

"Yeah… it's a… thing." You cough. Mark smiles.

"That's awesome! I'm happy for you, bud!" He congratulates. "Hey, I uh… I hotwired a car for us and found the map, so we can head back to base now…" he says. "I'll, uh, be in the car." He snaps his fingers and walks the other way. You let go of Yancy's hand and turn to him.

"Yous is sure about this, right?" He asked, slightly apprehensive. "I mean. I don't wanna be a bother to yous or yous's friend… maybe I'm not ready for society yet…" The doubt is clear on his face, but it disappears when you put your hands on his face.

"If I wasn't sure, I wouldn't have gone back for you," you joke. He smiles and scoffs. You watch him for a moment before him a quick peck on the lips. He freezes and you wonder if you broke him. After a couple seconds, he smiles and kisses you. You both are out of practice, but you eventually remember how to kiss properly. You adjust yourselves for a better angle and continue kissing.

What can I say? It's like riding a bike.

You pull away for breath, both of you panting slightly.

"Well, uh.." He coughs, "we should… get to yous's friend over there…" You nod.

"Yeah… we should." You grab his hand again. "Ready to go home?" He smiles at the question.

"Course I am," You squeeze his hand start to walk. He intertwined your fingers. Anywhere can be home with you... he thinks. He takes a deep breath. "Hey…" he calls your attention and stops walking.

"Yeah?" You ask, getting a bit scared. He rubs your hand with his thumb.

"I think… I think I'm falling in love with yous, too," You kiss the back of his hand.

"Good," you whisper. You both continue walking towards the car, happily anxious for what's to come.

[greaserink]

Come To An Understanding (Yancy x Reader)

Synopsis: Y/N gets severely injured to the point of needing to be taken to the infirmary, and Yancy is there, waiting patiently and anxiously while waiting for you to wake up.

The swears you hear are colorful, half of them in such a thick accent you could barely make out what they were.

You shot up, righting yourself from the thin sheets of a bed and onto your elbows, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings of a room stocked with shelves of pill bottles and medicine. The dying down of swears is what yanked you back from the uncomfortably clean room and into reality, realizing that your side was a burn of disapproval at the concept of any weight put onto it, causing you to decide to sit back down with a groan as your next best choice of action.

The last fight was an utter complete embarrassment. You’ve always been known to be someone to stand up and fight if somebody barks up the wrong tree, but it seemed like your assailant was planning your actions and apparently sent you to the infirmary with a sore body and pride; if you would’ve had known that he had a shiv on his person, you wouldn’t have chewed him out about his mother. 

It pierced your side, just under your ribs and most likely just barely missing your lungs since you aren’t strapped down with a tube down your throat.

Weight on you hand, you sense the crease already making itself known between your brows as your eyes followed up the inked arm, up their shoulder, and to Yancy’s face. If it was anyone else you would have most likely yanked your hand back and hissed, but seeing Yancy’s eyes so wildly concerned made you consider holding his hand back. 

God, you really had gotten yourself in deep this time based on the look on his face. Perhaps not too bad, so you offer him a smile.

“Give it to me straight, doc: Am I gonna make it?” God it hurt your side to talk.

He returns with a deadpan look. So much for that.

Your hand squeezes his while he has himself busied with leaning back in his chair and breathing a deep sigh. The attack wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t like you were wanting to have been shived or be catcalled by a hulk of a creep. That was one of the last things on your list of ‘Things To Do While In Prison’.

Hot air escapes through your nose. The, what most likely are stitches now, itch. “Yancy-”

“Youse could’ve gotten killed.”

You try your best to relax. “I’ll be fine, i’ve had worse. It’s just an instance of an office dispute is all, it ain’t too bad.” “Bad?” He doesn’t dignify your first comment. “Bad? You had a shiv to the side. Or didn’t youse notice?” The tone he’s taken is unfamiliar and doesn’t suit his face at all. You hadn’t noticed his leg has bouncing rapidly until he stopped it when you glanced down.

Biting your tongue from biting back, your free hand clenched the thin grey sheets of the bed. Waking up from unconsciousness to just be chewed out and then fight with Yancy isn’t worth it to you, so he took this chance to keep going.

“Of all tha people to pick a fight with, y/n, youse decided dat mayhaps the bestest guy to start tangoin’ with was a guy jus’ as ready to fight you jus’ as much as you was ready to fight ‘im,” Yancy shook his head and gave a wry laugh, his eyes vacant of any emotion as they scanned the room. “And what’s better is ‘dat youse took the chance of it bein’ a time where ya were alone too! You should’ve known the full amount of idiocity needed to makes a move such as tha’.”

Irritation snuffed out any thought of leaving it just there. “Oh and don’t you wish you could just lecture me on that, don’t you,” you bite back. “You would know so much about it with the amount of fights you get into.” 

The look of surprise on his face lights up his features, a slight bit of satisfaction was what you were rewarded with just before it was taken away with the look of hurt in his eyes. But it was gone just as quick as it was there.

“I was scared, y/n! Terrified even! He gave a good enough blows to yours noggin’ that you were left as a heap ‘o patheticness, just oozin’ life like youse was getting paid to do so,” he retorts, both of his hands now shaking in emphasis in front of him. “I was scared, y/n.” 

The emphasis and softness in his last comment had you both reeling yourselves back; the vulnerability you’ve never heard or seen on him was apparently just as foreign to him as it was for you. The stale silence between the two of you was something you’ve never experienced with him, you’ve never been the one behind his berating before though either. It was new for both of you and you both were uncomfortable. 

He cared about you, that’s why he was mad. His quick turn to anger was the only way for any familiarity to be introduced into the situation and he already felt uncomfortable from sitting there beside his best friend as the hours ticked by, waiting patiently until he saw any sign of you waking up, giving up the better of his day to be there with you. He’s never let himself be so personally moved by someone he cares about by the likes of something like getting hurt very badly.

Humiliated by his genuine care for you, you took to staring at his chest and not his face as you grabbed the hand that was once resting in yours just to be yanked away in frustration and held it close, kissing the back of it on the inked part of his knuckles. The action caused his body to slump, all tension in his muscles being lost and forgotten as you kept your lips on his skin.

You both sat there like that, in such a rawness both of you never felt before with one another; he always wears his pride like a mantle- it was just something that came easy to him, but being here with his closest friend in a moment of quiet understanding, it’s something that he has barely any experience with. And he never knew he needed it so much. It lulled him to close his eyes and drop his head down. 

The scene of seeing you resting there, paler than you ever have been and obviously void of any energy, still biting back like nothing you did was ever wrong, you wearing your pride in a time like this still just to give it up for him and kiss his skin so soothingly so you could immediately aid his vulnerability and comfort him. It was both humbling as well as a sort of spark in the pit of his stomach, making his body flush with a heavy warmth. He decided he loved this feeling.

“I cares about ya, babes.”

“I care about you too, Yancy.”

[fandom-trash-247]

Nothing Feels Better Than This

Listen to “Better” by Khalid as you listen to this, it’ll make the story better.

Feel free to leave constructive criticism in the comments, as I’ve never written for Yancy before but I’m willing to learn. As always, I don’t own anything having to do with AHWM except for this story. Enjoy!

===

You knew leaving him behind was going to be hard, but at the time you knew you couldn’t stay. There was still so much you had to do with the box and Mark, and you weren’t ready to settle down anywhere, nonetheless in a prison. 

Watching him leave to go back to his cell hurt. You could feel your heart hurt as you turned away from him, unable to keep watching him leave, just as you were leaving him. 

Once he was out of sight you opened the box, and the skeleton key now in your hand was practically taunting you. There had been a way for you both to get out, and now you wouldn’t be able to use it. Looking back at the gate one more time, you debated on going back for him. For Yancy. But you knew that no matter how comfortable prison life would be with him, you would just feel stuck. Settling down in one spot wasn’t for you. Not yet at least. So you turned and walked away, feeling just as much a prisoner of your own heart as you were a free person.

---

That had been years ago. Not many, but a small handful. Over that time you never gave up the potential you had with Yancy. The both of you knew that visiting him would be too risky, even if you were to wear a disguise of some sort, but there was still contact through the phone calls you made to each other.

Neither of you would waste time with formalities of ‘How’ve you been’ or anything of that nature; you did have a time limit after all. You both would just jump into conversations as if you never stopped them, talking about anything and everything until a guard told Yancy that his time was up. In all of this time you never mentioned your life outside of prison and he never mentioned his life inside of it unless it related to the conversation in some way. Neither of you had wanted to let the other know that life without the other wasn’t as bright as they thought it would be.

Damn you both for falling in love with a person you seemingly couldn’t have.

---

You were in the shower scrubbing up when the music on your phone was interrupted by the sound of your ringtone. Grabbing it, you checked the number and chuckled a little. The one pitfall of contacting each other via phone was that you could be doing anything when he would call. Pressing the answer button, you put the phone on speaker and put it back on the sink where you had it. 

“Hi Yancy.” you said as you washed the soap off of your body.

“Hey. Are youse okay, youse sound far away?” he asked, sounding confused and slightly concerned. 

“Yeah I’m fine, I was just showering when you called.” you said as you rinsed conditioner out of your hair, having left it in for a little bit so your hair could soak the moisture in.

“Oh! Sorry ‘bout that. Kinda hard to tell what youse doin’ these days.” the  apologized, a slight chuckle laced in his voice.

“It’s fine hun, I’m almost done anyway. So what’s up?” you asked him, shutting the water off and grabbing a towel to dry your body off. 

“Ah, well I thought youse should know...my chance at parole is coming up.” he brought up awkwardly.

“Oh. And?” you asked cautiously, stopping what you were doing to hear him properly. 

“And...I’ve decided to take it.”

And damn if those words didn’t make you the happiest person in the world. 

“Really? That’s amazing hun, I’m so glad.” you said eagerly as you moved to towel dry your hair. 

“Yeah, uh, I was also wondering if youse would be willing to, yanno, let me stay with youse until I could find some place to go?” he asked, his voice sounding awkward and slightly strained. You could tell that it was hard for him to ask for your help with this, but it didn’t deter you in the slightest.

“Of course you can stay. I’ll set up the guest room for you and make sure I have enough food for the both of us. Just be sure not to shower for hours like you do there, as I’m actually paying the water bill.” you replied with a chuckle at the last part.

The relief in his voice was tangible in his voice. “Thank youse. My hearin’ is next week, so I’ll call and let youse know more about it then.”

You agreed, and then when you had put on your robe you grabbed your phone and turned it off of speaker phone to continue having your conversation with the Ohioan.

---

As he had promised, the next week he called to tell you about his parole hearing.

“So I got granted for my’s parole. I met with my parole officer this mornin’.”

“That’s awesome! When are you getting let out?”

“Three days from now. Youse got everythin’ ready for me?” he asked curiously.

“I’ve had everything ready since you first mentioned your hearing.” you admitted sheepishly.

He gave a chuckle at the admission. “Good to know youse still lookin’ forward to seein’ me.”

“I’ve been wanting to see you since the night I left.” you admitted, a blush blooming on your cheeks.

The other side of the line was quiet and you couldn’t help but assume the worst. Neither of you talked about that night. Until now.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too doll.” Yancy finally admitted, sounding relieved.

You both continued to talk about anything and everything, and an idea popped up in your head. You asked about who his parole officer was, and while he was slightly confused on why you’d want to know he gave you the officer’s name. Before long he had to go, and you wished each other a goodbye. This goodbye was easier than the rest though, as you knew you’d be seeing him in three days.

In the meantime you looked up his parole officer, got their number, and decided to make a call. You explained your idea to them, wanting to get permission first just in case it would violate his parole, mainly with him not being allowed to leave after a specific geographic point. With a bit of a chuckle, his parole officer granted the permission needed to put the idea into effect and promised not to tell him. Thanking him, you hung up and started to plan Yancy’s first day as a free man. Or, as free as he would be for a while.

---

I love to see you shine in the night like the diamond you are

No one's got to know what we do, hit me up when you're bored

Three days later you pulled up to Happy Trails Penitentiary, got out of your car and waited for him to walk out the gate. Seeing him walk out was such an overwhelming sight, and before you knew it you ran over to him and hugged him tightly. It had been years since you had seen him last, but he hadn’t changed one bit. Yancy stumbled under the force that you ran to and hugged him, but he kept his balance and awkwardly moved an arm around you.

“Hey doll, it’s good to see youse.”

“It’s so good to see you too Yancy.” you replied before pulling away from him. Noticing his clothes, you saw he wore a pair of black pants and a black and red plaid flannel. It looked good on him, and he would fit right in with everybody else. “Come on, we’ve got your new life to start.” you said as you grabbed his hand and tugged him to follow you to your car. He chuckled and followed after you, not that he had a choice in the matter.

Getting in, you both put on your seat belts and you started driving, not to home, but to start your plan. Yancy played with the radio until he found the type of music he liked, and turned it up to be able to listen to it but not loud enough to distract you.

All I hear is... Nothing feels better than this Nothing feels better Nothing feels better than this Nothing feels better, ooh now

 He then watched out the window for a while as you drove. When you guys reached a specific point, he looked over at you.

“Uh, doll I’m not allowed to goes past this point.” he said, sounding very concerned and slightly scared. He had decided to try out parole to be able to see you and be with you, and he didn’t want to be thrown back in the same day he got out.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ve got it handled.” you reassured him as you drove past his parole limit to continue to the setting of your plan.

It took some time, but you pulled up to the closest beach and parked in the parking lot. 

“Doll, whatcha doin’?” Yancy asked as you both got out of the car.

“I want your first day out to be a good one. Prove that it’s not all that bad out here.” you told him with a small smile.

He gave a small and shy smirk as he looked at you. “Youse didn’t have to go to all the trouble. It was already worth it to see youse’s face again.” he admitted, causing a small blush to appear on his and your face.

We don't gotta hide This is what you like, gotta admit Nothing feels better than this

“Well come on, we’ve got the rest of our day ahead of us.” you told him as you led him to a restaurant that was across from the beach. It was mainly seafood due to its location by the sea, but there were also options of burgers, fries, and even pizza. They also had a nice selection of desserts for after the main meal. You both ended up ordering burgers, fries, and some colas, and you both talked while waiting for your food to be ready. When it was served, you thanked the server and dug into your meals. The burgers were hot and juicy, the fries were crispy and delicious, and the colas were refreshing. Once you were both done you asked him if he wanted a dessert and he seemed hesitant. 

“It’s okay Yancy, I don’t mind it if you do.” you told him.

“I kinda wanna try one of those milkshakes, but I dunno if I would be able to finish it.” Yancy told you as he watched a server making a milkshake.

“We could always share one.” you suggested. He looked back at you in surprise and you shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind trying one either, but we’re in the same boat. I wouldn’t be able to finish one by myself.”

“Alright, if youse sure.” he agreed after a moment. You nodded in response, and when your server came back over you asked if you could have a milkshake. You both had agreed on a chocolate one, though he liked chocolate more than you did. But this was his day, not yours. The server made your milkshake, put whipped cream on top and a cherry and brought it to you, handing over two straws. “Enjoy.” they said before leaving again.

You say we're just friends, but I swear when nobody's around I keep my hand around your neck, we connect, are you feelin' it now?

You and Yancy each grabbed a straw, removed the paper on it and stuck it into the milkshake. Due to the single serve cup for the milkshake, you each had to take turns taking a sip of the cold treat, though you both fell into an easy rhythm. You always did, and this was no different.

“So, what else does youse have planned for this adventure?” Yancy asked, making conversation as you both drank the milkshake. You finished your momentary sip and he went in for his as you answered.

“It’s supposed to get dark in a bit and I was thinking we’d watch the sunset, and there’s supposed to be music at the pier tonight. I thought we could maybe take a listen.” you told him as he drank his milkshake. When he came up from his momentary sip, he swallowed and nodded.

I get so high that I ignite, I swear to God, feel my feet leave the ground Ooh, yeah Your back against the wall, this is what you been talkin' about In my ears

“Alright, sounds good.” he said, and as he watched you take another turn at the milkshake he couldn’t help but think that you were amazing. You did all of this just for him and he couldn’t be anymore grateful to have you in his life. Ever since that day you went into prison you had changed his life, and now he was going to be spending it with you. What could he have possibly done to be so lucky?

You both finished up the milkshake and talked some more. You were given the bill and paid for your meals because he didn’t have any money yet due to it being his first day out. He felt bad about that, but you reassured him that him being around and out of prison more than made up for it. You both walked out and walked back across the street to the beach, walking across it as the sun set. 

“It’s beautiful tonight.” Yancy commented as he watched the sunset. You nodded in agreement.

“It sure is.”

Nothing feels better than this Nothing feels better Nothing feels better than this Nothing feels better, ooh now

When the sun left the sky and the stars came out shimmering in the black sky, some music started to play at the dock and you smiled, taking his hand to join in on the fun. There was a small band set up on the pier and playing music people could dance to. Looking at him, you tilted your head towards the music in a silent offer to dance, which he agreed to with a hesitant nod. 

We don't gotta hide This is what you like, gotta admit Nothing feels better than this

“Just follow my lead.” you told him as you placed a hand at his waist and connected your left hand to his right one. 

You know that if I left I'd take you back When you say it, you say it like that, oh yeah

You know that if I left I'd take you back When you say it, you say it like

As you led, you moved left a couple of steps, moved back a couple of steps and then made you both sway from side to side a little before having him move left and you move right a couple steps, made him move back a couple steps, then sway side to side again. It was a cute and slightly elaborate square you were dancing in, but it was perfect for the both of you. 

Soon enough you grew tired and he did as well, and you both walked back to the car, him grabbing the keys off of you and getting in the drivers seat to go home. Home. It felt odd calling somewhere that wasn’t the prison home, but he knew that being with you would give him the best home he ever had. Because you were there, and you were on his side. Looking over at you in the passenger seat he saw you had fallen asleep and he smiled a little before paying attention to the road again. Yeah, life on the outside was definitely going to be okay.

Nothing feels better than this Nothing feels better Nothing feels better than this (Nothing feels better) ooh now, now We don't gotta hide (This is what you like, gotta admit) Nothing feels better than this (Better than this) Nothing feels better than this

[hoki-creations]

I (Don’t) Wanna Be Free

Pairing: Yancy x Mute!NB!Reader

Author’s note: Hey guys! This is my entry for the first visitation day gift exchange hosted by the awesome @yancy-support-group​. This gift is for @spontaneoustornadoes​ with the prompt “I missed you”, “I was gone for five hours”. I was originally going to do art for the trade, but this prompt was so cute, and it made me think of an alternate ending scenario for A Heist With Markiplier that I really wanted to write out. So, I hope you enjoy, and @spontaneoustornadoes​ I hope you like it!

_____________________________________________________________________

You walked slowly through the woods, slipping out of sight and away from Happy Trails Penitentiary. You would need to stay under cover until you could ditch your prison attire for something more ordinary, but for the moment, being alone in the woods would do. You realized that for the first time since this crazy night had begun, you were truly alone with your thoughts, and could finally begin to process everything that had happened. Your plan to steal the artifact had succeeded, in a roundabout way. But you had never planned on ending up in prison, and doing so had made everything so much more complicated. It had been your fault- and Mark. Oh gosh, Mark… He hadn’t made it. What would be the point of going back to base now, with your partner in crime gone? You shook your head at the thought and kept walking through the undergrowth.

You looked up at the stars through the branches of the forest cover, listening to the sounds of the various animals scuttling about in the night. Then, of course, you thought, there was Yancy. Fate had brought the two of you together. And even though you knew hardly anything about one another, Yancy had helped you without even thinking. Sure, you two had had quite the tussle to start with, but you had a feeling that was just the way things happened in prison. After the fight, the two of you had bonded; he gained feelings of respect for you, and you have to admit, you had gained feelings for him, too. 

And then, after he had helped you, you’d left him.

You couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret in your chest about this. He’d sounded so sad when you’d left him at the gate and had even half-heartedly suggested that you’d meet again on visitations. But, you both know that it could never happen. You’d have to keep your head low for quite some time, and even afterward, you couldn’t show your face at the very prison that you’d broken out of. You lowered your eyes to the ground and let out a sigh. No, it wouldn’t work out. 

Your attention then shifted, your hand beginning to trace the form of the mysterious key from the artifact’s box. All of this, for something so small. You and Mark were planning to use it to get filthy rich; nothing would be out of your reach using it. And, you supposed that you still could use it to do so. But it just didn’t feel right without a partner. No, you didn’t think that losing your friend had been worth it. And even after that, you had left the one person who had continued to help you. You didn’t know for sure if Yancy had considered you a friend, but after the time you spent together, you certainly had thought of him as such. If only he had decided to come with you; maybe the two of you could have worked something out. You two had made a pretty good team as well. But, you had left, and you couldn’t do anything about that now. 

Unless… You thought, running your hand over the key’s smooth surface. Nothing was out of your reach with this key, and you supposed, that included Yancy. You knew that he wanted, and even needed, to stay in prison, so breaking him out wasn’t really an option. But, perhaps, you could go back and stay with him. You had wanted to be free because of your family, and for certain, you still wanted to be able to visit them. But, the key gave you that power. You could go back and stay with Yancy, and use the key to leave if ever you needed to. 

Heck, the more you thought about it, it could actually work! You could even sneak back into the prison using the key; it had only been a few hours since you had left, and it was likely that no one had even noticed that you were gone. You stopped in your tracks, actually beginning to consider this crazy line of thought. You hadn’t known Yancy for long, and things could always go sour. But you knew, if you didn’t go back and give this- give him- a try, that you would always regret it. And even though you hadn’t known him long, you had known him long enough to know that you wanted to give him a chance. 

With that, you made up your mind, turning in your tracks and racing back towards the prison you had left only a few hours earlier. As the brush beneath your feet began to fade, you could first see the prison towers in the distance. The moon was still high in the night sky, which meant you still had time before the night was over.  Perhaps your silly plan would actually work out.  

-----------------------

As you turned the corner of the prison block, the sky outside had just begun to show it’s first rays of twilight. You had been creeping quietly through the halls as not to wake up any of the other inmates, but as you began to approach Yancy’s cell, it was clear that he was already awake. Even though it was still fairly dark, you could see him sitting on the lower bunk, his knees pulled up to his chest. He looked forlorn, gazing down towards the floor. You approached the cell door without a noise, and slid the key into the lock silently.

As the key clicked in the hole softly, Yancy jumped to his feet, reaching instantly for what you imagined was some sort of shiv and going into a defensive position. You put up your hands to show that you mean no harm. Yancy cocked his head to the side a bit in confusion and took a step forward. 

“Buddy?” he asked, his voice uncertain.

You nodded quickly, flashing a bright grin. Then without warning, Yancy sprang forward. You stepped backward in surprise but were caught off guard when his arms wrapped around you in an enormous hug. 

“I missed you’se so much!” Yancy exclaimed warmly. You chuckled, knowing that it had only been a couple of hours since you had seen each other. You smiled and buried your head in his chest, taking a deep breath, and taking in Yancy’s comforting, hearty scent.

Yancy pulled out of the hug, but his hands lingered on your shoulders. “What is you’se doing back in here?! I thought you’se had left, you knows, for good?” 

You shook your head, and then gestured back to Yancy.

“You’se… came back for me?” He smiled softly, but then his expression changed to concern. “You’se didn’t need to do that! I’s fine in here. And besides, I thought you’se was one of those familial types?”

With that, you held up the skeleton key. 

“What’s this?”

You took his hands with a smile and placed the key and the note in them. As he read, his eyes widened.

“Is this what was in that box of you’ses?” Yancy pulled his face back in surprise. “And this is what you’se decided to do with it? I’se knows you’se could get out and see’s you’ses family anytime with it, but I’s can’t say that’s the way I’s would’ve used it; I’s probably would’ve used it to gets some sort of filthy rich, if you knows what I’s means…”

You smirked, punching him lightly on the shoulder. Yancy grinned, putting his hands up in surrender. “Hey, not like I’ses complaining!” 

Yancy’s faced softened, “I’se really did miss you’se, you know.” He placed the key back gently in your hand, but then lingered. You could feel how warm his hands were, and as you looked up, you became aware at how close the two of you were. You blushed, and stared up into Yancy’s soft, ember-brown eyes as the first rays of sunlight began to filter through his window. He leaned in slowly, and you closed your eyes, tilting your chin up to meet his. Suddenly, what sounded like an alarm clock echoed loudly over the intercom, causing you to jump and open your eyes. Yancy shrugged slightly, pulling his hands away. 

“Eh, it’s just the morning wake up call, you’ses got nothing to worry about,” he said sheepishly.  

Mr. Murder-Slaughter’s voice chimed in his slightly-chilling yet cheery manner. “Good morning y’all. It’s another bright and lively day here in Happy Trails Penitentiary! Get dressed and head on down to the cafeteria, where our wonderful Chef has made some delicious eggs and bacon for breakfast just for you-” 

Yancy placed a hand on your shoulder as Mr. Murder-Slaughter continued to talk. “You’se better get back to you’ses cell before the guards come back around.”

You nodded, gripping the key tight as you walked out of the cell door and began to dash down the hall towards your own quarters. You glanced back at Yancy as you ran, and he smiled back at you, but he looked slightly downtrodden. You paused in your tracks, and then made up your mind, turning back and running up to Yancy before he could close the door. 

“What is it? You’se forget something?” 

You nodded, then jumped up and kissed him on the cheek. Yancy froze in shock, his cheeks flushing a bright red. As you pulled away, Yancy flashed a bright grin. You turned and ran double time back to your cell, and as you dashed away, you heard him call after you. “I’ll sees you’se at breakfast! I’se can’t wait to tell the rest of the family that you’ses here to stay!”

You grinned as you ran through the hallway and past the cells of your new prison family. 

Yeah, you had made the right choice.

[blackaquokat]

The Song You Might Have Been (Chapter 4)

Link to Chapter 1 and Chapter 3 here!

A/N: TW for another attempted murder. Plus a fistfight. Because our leading characters are emotionally constipated morons.

---

Funnily enough, the next attempt for your life has nothing to do with your framed case. Which is both a good and bad thing.

Good because a paid assassin is more difficult to sniff out and is financially motivated to really ensure the job is done. Not to mention is more talented at getting away with murder.

Bad because at the moment you’re staring at Newman and three other lackies behind him. They have cornered you in the empty laundry room. Newman is brandishing a shiv sharpened from a toothbrush. You recognize two of his companions as criminals you prosecuted: one for murder and another for drug dealing.

“No one here to protect you now, huh, Eagle?” Newman sneers. “Which means we can cut you up however you want and no one will be any the wiser.”

You swing your arms back and forth casually before putting them behind your back. While you try to slyly get a grip on the large measuring cup of bleach on the table behind you, you speak up. “You’re really tempting fate here, aren’t you? Or are you telling me that Yancy gave you the all-clear to kill me after assigning me a bodyguard rotation?”

The Murderous inmate--Jerry Carson, you remember--pales three shades and turns on Newman. “Wait, hold on, this drip is still under Yancy’s protection? What the hell are you playing at, Newman? I don’t wanna be on Yancy’s shit list!”

Inmate-You-Don’t-Recognize nods frantically in agreement. “I only agreed to this because I was promised more cigarettes, but going against Yancy is suicide!”

(How are these guys so clueless? It’s not like it’s a secret that the gang has been joined to your hip for this long. Or is the rest of the prison under the impression that you’re just an unfortunate tag-along trying to kiss your way up the ladder?)

“Cowards, the lot of you!” Newman snaps. He turns back to you. “Not that I need help killing you. You’re just an attorney. What are you gonna do, throw the book at me?”

You let a sinister smile crawl across your face. “Maybe not the book.”

Newman’s eyes narrow into slits and he lunges for you--only to reel back screaming when you throw the bleach in his eyes.

You drop the cup and charge around him while he flails and furiously wipes at his face. To your surprise, none of the lackeys try to grab you as you escape.

On your way out of the room, you run smack into someone and start flailing when arms hold you in place.

“Whoa, whoa there, Eagle!” Once you hear Jimmy’s voice, you calm down and he releases you. “What’s your hurry?”

“They were about to be a pincushion.”

Jimmy turns to address, much to your surprise, the Drug Dealing inmate who had been suspiciously silent during the whole exchange. Declan Millard, you finally remember. 

“You the guy who let Bam-Bam know this was going down?”

Declan nods and winks at you. “Not that I have any fuzzy feelings for you, Eagle, but my lawyer informed me that you were pretty generous about my sentencing.”

“Considering I learned you discouraged dealing to the younger kids in the neighborhood you were in,” you respond automatically, more than a little stunned at this turn of events, “and that you gave up other dealers during the trial, it seemed like the fair thing to do.”

“Not many lawyers are fair, Eagle,” Declan reminds you. “I’d hate to deprive the world of the only one I know.”

“I see I missed the fun.” The three of you turn again and there’s Yancy, once again appearing out of nowhere. His arms are crossed, leaving his forearm tattoo in full view. He looks more lethal than you’ve ever seen him. 

“Not quite, boss.” Declan jerks a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the laundry room where they can all still hear Newman screaming and swearing. “The other two didn’t quite know what they were getting into, but Newman did.”

Yancy nods and cracks his knuckles. He puts a hand on your shoulder. “Why don’t youse go relax in your bunk for a bit? Jimmy and I can take care of this ourselves.”

“Just Newman,” you say, suddenly. “He’s the only one who tried to hurt me.”

“And he was paid for his efforts with a face full of bleach,” Declan reports in a gleeful tone. “It was an impressive sight.” He looks you up and down impressively. “You keep surprising me, Eagle.”

“Yes, yes, they’re very surprising,” Yancy repeats dismissively. “Clear out, Declan. Eagle, back to your cell, that’s an order.”

The look you give him at that statement is enough to have him offer only a somewhat apologetic grimace before entering the laundry room with Jimmy.

You’re halfway down the hall before you hear a loud scream that cuts off into a gurgle only moments later.

---

You go back to your cell, simply because you don’t have anything better to do besides work on another letter to send to the legislature, but when you get there, you almost think you’ve gotten horribly mixed up.

“Um…”

Your cell is completely redecorated. There’s a small white wire tea table with matching chairs and a vase with lovely yellow flowers. Your second set of prison clothes are hanging on various clotheslines. There’s a tiny nightstand with a lamp by your bed, which has new sheets, a comforter, and two more fluffy pillows. Toiletries, of all things, sit in a neat section on the back of and next to the toilet. There’s even an adorable little potted tree with white leaves (that one is probably fake). Someone even put a goddamn fur rug next to the bunk with a pair of slippers. Slippers, for God’s sake.

You’re still gaping at all of this contraband, which makes the cell seem almost decadent in its furnishings, when you hear a low laugh behind you and whirl around to see Heap-Ass deliver you a casual salute before leaving.

“Why the tree?” you blurt out first, because apparently that is the strangest thing in this room and not the goddamn fur rug and furry pillow.

“The boss loves trees,” Heap-Ass yells back.

“Thanks!” you hurry to say before he gets out of earshot. Reverently, you sit at the wire table, where your writing supplies and paper and even a brand new leather bound notebook awaits you, and get started on another letter.

What alternate dimension have I fallen into?

When Yancy returns, his hands suspiciously cleaner than they normally are, you ask him if the refurbishings were his doing. You’ve moved from the table to your bed, curled under the blankets, the lamp switched on, and have now moved onto writing notes in your notebook. It’ll be easier to keep lists of requests in this rather than whatever scraps of paper you can get your hands on.

He shrugs at your questioning look. “Consider it a sign of gratitude for the new books. And the poetry readings youse been doing every night.”

You shut the notebook. “And you go this far for just anyone who does you favors?”

“Only I didn’t ask youse for the books, did I, Eagle?” Yancy challenges. “Did that on your own. Because youse got more fight and more brains than any other goon in this place.”

“Yancy--”

“Listen here, Eagle, I ain’t takin’ any refusal for the gift, alright? Besides, I benefit from these furnishings too.”

“You love trees, yeah, I heard.” 

You want to trust that that’s all this is, you really do. You appreciate the little things that have gone a long way to make you more comfortable, but that’s the problem. You don’t want to get comfortable. If you get comfortable, then it will be that much harder to leave.

Something tells you that that might be exactly what Yancy was hoping for. Though God knows why he’s so desperate for you to stick around.

“And this has nothing to do with the fact that my last update with Damien involved breaking down more of Merrill Byron’s operation?”

Yancy flinches and avoids your question by hopping into the top bunk. Moments later, “What makes you think I care what your soon-to-be Mayor friend has to say?”

“Because if they manage to pin any of that operation to Byron, then my name gets cleared and I can leave.” 

You can’t see his face, but Yancy’s silences can be just as telling as the nonsense he spouts off. 

“Hey, Eagle!” shouts Bam-Bam from down the hall. “You gonna read tonight or what?”

You sigh and reach for the book compilation of Edna St. Vincent Millay poetry you borrowed for the evening. “Alright, keep your shirts on, guys. I’ll only be reading three tonight, don’t get comfortable.”

You’re looking forward to a night of sleep that won’t involve shivering. Turns out the mattress was replaced too, and you are equally looking forward to not feeling springs stab into your back and sides.

---

You never give up, really. 

But by the time Week Nine in Happy Trails Penitentiary begins, you start to feel discouraged.

Not that anyone else really gets why. You’ve been perfectly happy organizing the new books and teaching the first few inmate volunteers the Dewey Decimal System so that they can locate and sort the books easier. All those years of trying to pay your way through University as the local librarian are really paying off now. Not that it didn’t pay off before. 

“Is it really so bad here?” Jimmy asks you in the yard one day. He’s smuggled bread rolls for the entire gang (which does include you now, you guess). “I mean, I know the hooch wine doesn’t do much for you, but we can always sneak the whiskey out of the warden’s office! Or Heap-Ass can get you some bourbon from the outside.”

“I appreciate the offer, Jimmy.” You swallow a bite of your roll before continuing. “But honestly, I...I can’t stay.”

“Why not?” Tiny insists. She’s clutching the copy of the Velveteen Rabbit to her chest. “Who’s going to run the library if you leave?”

“I can train you guys before I leave, or I can come back after I get out and help you set the rest up.” You scootch closer to Tiny. You would like to put your arm around her, but the last time you attempted physical comfort with her, she held a fork-shiv to your throat. “Look, I’m not going to just forget about you guys, okay? I’ve never had this many friends in my life. I plan on setting up a volunteer system here so I can come by whenever the hell I want.”

Tiny’s tentative smile fades into wide-eyed concern, suddenly, when she looks over your shoulder.

“Oh, sure youse will.” 

You spin around in surprise and, sure enough, there’s Yancy. Seriously, you might need to put a bell around his neck. 

“You think youse the first person to come in, get released, and never come back?” Yancy challenges. He saunters up to you not unlike a predatory cat. “Why don’t youse just admit that we’re not good enough for you?”

“What, just because I don’t want to sit in here while what little reputation I have with the public gets dragged through the mud?!” You toss your roll behind you as you approach Yancy and listen to some of the gang hurry to catch and call dibs on it. “While a killer goes free and strikes again to clean up loose ends? While my mom sits home alone, worried about me? She already went through losing my dad and my brother, do you think--”

“I told youse on Day One, Eagle,” Yancy snaps, “the past ain’t to be trifled with. If youse’s mum supposedly ‘cares’ about you so much, why’s she not visited? Some loving ma you’ve got there--”

“Because I told her not to, you idiot!”

Yancy freezes mid-accusatory finger point. “Youse--what?”

You look around and get close enough for no one else but Yancy to hear you. The two of you are already drawing eyes to your positions. “Do you think I want my mom to see me like this? She knows I could die in here, I know I could still die in here, and I don’t want her last memory of me to be one where I’m covered in blood and bruises and cuts, she already had to see me like that when I was in high school.”

“Every story I hear about youse’s life on the outside depresses the hell out of me, but that’s besides the point.” The anger in his voice is barely contained. “How about we talk about the fact that youse plan to leave the family here behind? What, youse didn’t like the cell renovations we made after your Nightly Poetry Reading?”

“Yes, I love the comfortable mattress and fur rug and the lamp and the non-itchy, non-bloodstained blankets that keep me warm at night, but Yancy, I can’t stay. Even if we catch the guy who put a hit out on me, who’s to say I won’t get a shiv in the back by someone who doesn’t want their parole? You think I don’t hear you telling other inmates about that little tactic? You’re not quiet at all about it!”

“I was hoping you’d get the hint, Eagle! We don’t want you to go! Do youse really think I’d let anyone kill you?”

“I don’t know what to think of you, Yancy!” you finally shout back. 

As soon as the words leave your lips you realize just how true they are. This man has both rescued you and killed for you and called you ridiculous names and comforted you and plotted the deaths of inmates and guards in front of you and it honestly has turned you in circles because despite all of that, despite your moral compass, you really like this complicated mess of a man. 

But this is not the time to unpack this increasingly weird relationship you have with him. “Yancy, can you really look me in the eye and promise that I won’t get killed in here?”

Yancy’s mouth opens and closes several times before eventually he shoves you away from him, as if that’ll distract you from the hurt in his eyes. “I shoulda guessed that the Legal Eagle would get too high and mighty for us jailbirds!”

“Yancy--”

“Youse just like my dad! Standing there and judging me like youse think you know better, like youse so much better than me just because youse’s hands are clean?!” He puts his fists up. “Why don’t you get them dirty for once?”

Oh, this bastard. He’s going to make you do it, isn’t he? He’s really going to make you fight him. You put your arms on your hips. “Yancy, stop, you’re being ridiculous--”

He aims a punch at your face and you block it on instinct. You repeat his name but he just tries to hit you again, so that time you block his fist and manage to land a blow to his abdomen.

Fine. Let’s do this.

Yancy may be a rather talented inmate scrapper with a great right hook (you learn a moment later as your eye pulses in pain) but you’ve also boxed three times a week for half your life (because you needed some kind of extracurricular outlet to deal with the frustration of being a non-white academic overachiever) and have learned how to defend yourself pretty damn well.

By the time the fight gets anywhere, your eye is blackening and blood is running from your nose, while Yancy’s sporting several cuts on his face and a split lip. You manage to land several hits in a row before knocking Yancy back in a daze.

“Stand. Down,” you order in a growling tone. 

It’s the first and only time you have given anyone here a real command, and you are certainly in no mood for anyone to test the raging anger and frustration lashing underneath your skin just because this idiot that you can’t get out of your head doesn’t know how to talk about his issues like a healthy human being.

(The more rational part of your mind is willing to acknowledge that judging by the rumors about his childhood, there are reasons behind his inability to deal with people in a different capacity, but the rational part of your mind is currently tied up and locked in a trunk until further notice.)

Yancy stares back at you, blood dripping from his lip and staining his shirt. The fury is still brimming in his eyes, but you think you can catch a glimmer of reluctant respect and something else. Something...sad.

But you’re no longer in any mood to read into Yancy’s odd, conflicting behavior. It’s a miracle that none of the guards came to break the two of you apart. You have no intention of pushing your luck.

You push through the crowd that had gathered to watch this unprecedented event and leave the yard, praying that people think the tears running down your face are from your injuries.

---

Link to Chapter 5 here!

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