charlieliqueur

[charlieliqueur]

Mark X Camper!Reader (Unus Annus)

Camp Days - Part Two

Note: Sorry it took so long! :/

---

Your eyes boldly locked onto the tent door. You heard it begin to open, and you frantically hid the journal and any other suspicious material under your pillows and sleeping bags. The door opened to reveal Mark.

"Heeey camper," he greeted politely, entering the tent without stopping to ask if it was okay. Didn't matter, you felt like even if you said no, he'd do it anyways. "Y/n right?" He asked. You nodded. "What are ya doing in here all alone?" He asks, giving you a confused look. "Uh, sitting. I don't like mosquitoes..." you said.

"Well, I don't think anyone likes mosquitoes. I was gonna teach some of the other spunky little campers to play a song or two on guitar. You wanna join me?"

"I, um, already know guitar," you spoke, not sure if he'd believe it or not. Was it a lie? You couldn't remember. You had faint memories of maybe playing an instrument, but they were like remembering a childhood dream. Faint and fuzzy.

"Perfect! You can help me!" He said, eagerly and not quite gracefully getting up off the tent floor.

"No, that's not what I-"

"Come on, what else are you gonna do, we're only in camp for another six days!"

"Six days?"

"Yeah! A week of camp Unus Annus, yesterday was the first say, pfft, obviously. Introductions and all..."

"Six days, you're sure?"

"Uh. Duh."

Thoughts went through your head. It wouldn't be hard to keep track of six days. Hell, you could record every minute if you had to.

"I dunno...."

"I'll get Thicc Water to apologize for pelting you and Gerald."

Your blood ran cold. You looked into Counselor Mark's dark, dark eyes. His smile was warm, but... empty. Like it used to hold some semblance of emotion that had long since left him.

"How did you-"

"Oh, y/n, nothing happens in Camp Unus Annus without me knowing. Now come on!"

He unzipped the tent and waited for you to leave as well. You did so, not wanting any hostility. You were hesitant on leaving the journal and everything behind, but you didn't want Counselor Mark to see them, obviously.

It wasn't quite midday, but it wasn't early morning. Maybe 11:00 am or so. Mark had a group of campers around a pit, a box was on the ground nearby, full of Tazer Fire bandanas, almost every other camper had one. You grabbed one awkwardly and began folding in diagonally. Mark sat down on a log with his guitar and started strumming. The other campers watched him with awe.

Then he looked at you. "Come here y/n," he said, beckoning you over. You awkwardly sat down next to him, you didn't feel comfortable in his presence. He looked to you and grinned passing the guitar. For a moment your vision fogged with images of two men in black and white suits. A swirling abyss. You exhaled and took it. "Play us a tune, eh?" He asked, giving a look around the rest, who watched expectantly. Including Gerald.

You managed to set it in your lap correctly, but before you had a chance to play, either well or awfully, suddenly another voice boomed "HEEEY HEEEY MARK!"

All of the campers and the head counselor looked to see a skinny guy with dark hair and a black camp shirt. Counselor Ethan, and his campers. "Day two of camp already!" He said, wrapping an arm around Mark and smiling, but his eyes settled on you a moment. But Mark began talking to him, before Ethan could get a good look at you. "Oh yeah. What are you doing all the way over here, buddy?"

"Oh, y'know, interested in some team building activities. Tug of war, egg races, three legged race, the good ones!"

"Sounds great! Am I right??"

All the campers cheered, except you...

You felt like you were the only sober person left at a weird party.

Counselors Ethan and Mark began leading their campers away from Camp Tazer Fire, and towards a grassy clearing. A few rocks and sticks littered the area, but other than that it was just grass. "Alright everyone, partner up!" Shouted Mark.

You looked around, confused. "Gerald? Gerald??" You shouted, slightly panicked. You'd just seen him at camp, hadn't you? You looked through the crowds of campers, but his face was nowhere. "No buddy? Y/n you know the rules..." said Mark giving you a strange smile and shaking his pointer finger at you. "I know! I'll be your buddy! Just for the rest of camp," he said, looking proud of himself and his idea.

You looked at Mark for a moment, your heart dropping. "The rest of camp? What about Ethan? Isn't he your-"

"Certain rules can be bent in strange circumstances... now come on! Tug of war!"

- - -

You were tired, nervous, hot and sweaty. You were sitting on a rock as, drinking water from an unmarked bottle, as the sun began to set. Hours and hours of games had been played. Being stuck right next to Mark. You'd constantly catch him staring at you, or standing just too close for comfort. This whole time a light, overly electric feeling had been around you. Not the good kind, the kind of electric that you feel before a scary test, or a vaccine shot, or anything dangerous that doesn't excite, that only makes you anxious.

An excess of energy.

Weird energy.

You looked from the sunset towards the rest of the campers, distracted by the sound of footsteps. Mark had made his way over. He smiled, and waved you close to him saying "Come on, let's go."

You raised an eyebrow, and suddenly Ethan shouts "Back to camp, Campers!! A good rest after a good day! Remember the buddy system!" You stood and cautiously walked over to Mark. But Ethan was approaching. Then he extended a hand. Mark seemed hesitant on letting him.

You shook it. It was cold. Ice cold. Dreadfully icy cold. You pulled your hand away immediately after. "Ethan, and you're y/n?" He made short eye contact with Mark, who tried to manage a quick discreet nod. You looked between them a moment. "What's going-"

"Back to camp, eh? Enjoy your time with us Mo- ER y/n!" Said Ethan, awkwardly rushing away. You stared in shock and confusion as he left. Then Mark slipped an arm around your shoulder and said "Like he said, back to camp." And he gave you a slight shake, as you gazed into the distance, confused and scared.

- - -

"Because I'd like some privacy while changing please," you said shakily, trying to convince Mark to stay out of the tent for even just a few minutes. "Alright, alright," he agreed. You exhaled a sigh of relief, softly. You dug the journal out from under your pillow and turned to whatever you thought was the page you were on. It wasn't, but you decided to read whatever you could anyways.

Mori.... momento mori. Remember Death. They say it all the time. What death? With them, death isn't an ending, it's the beginning. Or the middle. Or the constant state of being. Or a being itself. Almost like they're looking for it. Looking for death...

"Almost ready?" Mark interrupted.

"Just a few moments!" You replied. You threw the book closed and stuffed it under the pillow, and quickly changed into clean camp clothes. Then you said "All done." The zipper rustled and the door opened. "Thanks, worried I might get eaten by a bear, or a deer..."

Mark laid down, seemingly relaxed. You sat on your side of the tent, trying to clear your mind. Trying to think. Everything you've learned so far swimming in your mind.

How old the camp sites are, how Mark and Ethan are seemingly immortal. How campers seem to vanish, how GERALD vanished! And now Ethan calling you Mo... was he gonna say mori? Death? What did that even mean? Was it an accident? You didn't think anything was an accident here. Not when you randomly show up at some spooky summer camp out of nowhere with hardly any memories.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Asks Mark.

"Um, how we lost at tug of war..." you lied.

"Yeah, that sucked... but we killed it at the three legged race, am I right??"

You laughed softly, but you weren't amused. You looked around the tent for a few seconds before laying down. You sighed deeply, but quiet enough not for him to hear. "I think it's time to sleep," you said. "You know, good rest and all..."

"Of course, of course. Goodnight y/n..." said Mark, rolling over. He was still laying down, stiff, outside of his sleeping bag. You curled up in yours, wanting some feeling of safety. "Y'know y/n," started Mark, "you always seem so tense. Try to enjoy camp. It is only a week, and you can make friendships that last... forever..."

Mark sounded sad... distant and somber, like remembering something. You could tell something was off. You didn't reply, you didn't want to.

After what felt like an eternity, with Mark still in the same position after hours of laying down, you remember your eyes closing finally and falling asleep.

And then you awoke.

You weren't sure how much later. You just remember waking up to the door opening. You looked, and saw it open, and saw Mark gone. A cool breeze rustled the open tent flap. You sat up, heart beginning to race. You heard leaves rustling and wind howling. Like before a storm, but without the rain. You climbed onto your feet and cautiously peeked outside, your whole torso outside the tent.

Then you saw them. A man in a white suit, a man in a black one, in the distance at the edge of the forest, chatting it seemed. You ducked back into the tent a moment, looking around more cautiously, barely peeked out.

All the other tents were dark, oddly so. And closed and quiet. Like a silence fell over the camp site. Like they all... were in a dead sleep...

You climbed out of the tent, the site being dark enough for you to sneak around in. You hid behind other tents, and rocks, and anything you could.

You were about to go around another tent, when you caught a glimpse of a white pant leg, and you immediately hid behind the tent again, holding your breath. They were right there, talking.

"We've only got five days," said a voice that sounded like Counselor Ethan. But, different... more serious...

"Yes but we have her this time," said a voice, oddly similar to Counselor Mark.

"These hosts will not last forever."

"They've lasted this long."

"And if we cannot.... if we fail before they leave...."

"We won't, my friend. We will find peace again... I promise."

"Yes, peace... momento mori?"

"Momento mori, unus... annus..."

Then you watched them begin to walk towards your tent. What the fuck? Peace? Hosts?? You saw the man in the black suit approach a different tent, as the white suited one headed back to yours. They also looked like Ethan and Mark, but for some reason you didn't want to believe that to be true... The black suited one opened a tent, and pulled out a sleeping camper, and then laid the kid on the rocky ground. What was he....? He wrapped his hands around the kid's throat, and suddenly you realized what was happening.

"Don't-!" You burst out without realizing it.

He looked up, seeing you there. "Mori... can it be...?"

He stood, and turned to you, and you saw the man in the white suit begin to approach as well.

You panicked, turned, and ran, straight into the dark, windy, silent woods.

- - -

To be continued! Sooooo it took a million years to get part two, I know I know. But its here now, right? Sorry guys. A lot happened, and I know many are still hurting after the channel ended. But, here this is, for who ever is still waiting for it.

#markiplier x reader #markiplier #mark fischbach #ethan nestor #amy nelson #camp unus annus fic #camp unus annus #unus annus #unus #annus #annus x reader

[charlieliqueur]

Mark X Camper!Reader (Unus Annus)

Camp Days - Part One

Summary/Warnings: Unus Annus spoilers? Takes place during Camp Unus Annus, includes some of Camp Unus Annus fan stuff like the camp cabins and etc, and some of my own variations. Reader is 18+ years old, and part of cabin Taser Fire, since it seems decreed that Mark is the head counselor for that cabin. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, go to the Camp Unus Annus posts and you'll find the stuff pretty quick.

---

You didn't remember signing up for this camp. Probably because you didn't, you couldn't have. Oddly enough, you barely remember anything before waking up on a bus, a bag packed and other 'campers' waiting to arrive. This felt off, the bus ride, the look of it, how isolated and almost abandoned it felt. It had all the wrong feelings.

But you were still here. Almost immediately after stepping off the bus a blond man and brunette woman held out stacks of shirts. One stack white, one black. You carefully picked one, and the woman kindly said "Welcome campers! This isn't our official welcome, but we wanted to make sure you had a uniform for initiation! I'm one of the counselors here, my name is Amy! And this is Evan!" They both waved happily.

What were you doing at a summer camp again?

Why would you be here-

Suddenly you all were being ushered away to a grassy clearing with a bonfire pit. Near a roaring fire were two men, wearing semi-matching black and white clothes. One in white, one in black. They turned towards the group of several, beyond several, dozen campers of varying ages, looks, and personalities.

"Welcome to your first day of Camp Unus Annus! In just a few moments you'll be directed to your cabin!" Said the short haired one. The longer haired man said "Don't forget, Camp Unus Annus and officials are not responsible for any harm or death caused here."

"Death??" Asked a few, they also seemed to have no idea how they ended up here.

"Um, excuse me, but I don't remember signing up for this camp," said one girl.

"Me neither!"

"I don't remember too!"

"Uh, me either!"

They two men looked at one another and began laughing. It seemed almost fake. They looked back at the group of confused people. "Of course you didn't sign up, that's not how Camp works here. Now come on! And-" the man in the white shirt looked to the man in black and they said in unison looking over the group, "Don't forget the Buddy System!!"

---

You had been sorted to your cabin. You stood among a group of confused and concerned campers, as they tried to find buddies before your counselor arrived. You got paired up with a man named Gerald, mainly because he had no one else and seemed distant enough not to bother you too much. Though he seemed a little incompetent.

You all looked at the still-packed collection of supplies, when suddenly a rushing of footsteps and a loud voice boomed, "Heeeeey campeeers!!"

You all looked to see Mark. He adjusted his white shirt briefly before smiling and saying "I bet you're all thrilled to be here, and-- What's this? You don't have your tents up yet?? Well hurry! Nightfall is coming soon and the bears will be out, and the bats, and deer, and snakes-- Just, chop chop!"

The group looked among each other hesitantly. "B-Bears?" Asked a girl.

"Yeah!! And not just the animals. Bear Cabin is... well, we won't talk about them."

"Aren't you betraying the buddy system?" Asked a young man. He seemed rather upset. Probably didn't like being at a summer camp he didn't sign up for. Neither did you.

"Yeah, you've broken your own rule!" Added another boy, the first one's buddy.

"Do you wanna talk to me about rules or do you wanna listen and live??" Mark demanded strongly. Most of the younger teens immediately started opening the tent bags, pulling out the plastic structures and beginning to set them up. Gerald and yourself began setting up your tent as well. The older group members glared and hesitated, before joining in as well.

Soon tents were set up, and as Counselor Mark was inspecting them, a large portion of Taser Fire gathered around a fire pit. "What are we supposed to do?" Asked one boy, his name was Daniel. "What do you mean?" Asked Lizzy, a twenty-something girl.

"Like, the fuck are we supposed to do?? Just play along to this summer camp BS? Hasn't anyone realized we've been kidnapped??"

"Speak for yourselves," said Mickey, a thirteen year old boy. "My home fuckin' sucks, I'd rather be here getting covered in mosquito bites than have another drunk fight with my dad," he said openly. It seemed he felt safe here. What was this place doing to you all? Some now anxious, some now comfortable? And what were you feeling?

"Okay campers, it seems dusk has begun. Why don't we get a fire started for a little meal before night, eh?" Asked Mark, gesturing with an open smile. You all looked around at each other and sheepishly nodded. He gave off vibes. Vibes you weren't sure how to feel about.

"And tomorrow, we start the fun!" He assured, before gathering some wood from a pile and making a firepit. You yawned and looked around. "Hey, where's Gerald?" You asked, when suddenly the man stepped beside you, zipping his fly. "Sorry, just stepped away to-"

Suddenly Mark seized him by the collar of his shirt. "Remember... the buddy system. Nobody leaves the group without their buddy!! Understood??" This was directed at the whole group, who nervously agreed, fearing what their counselor would do if they disobeyed. You stumbled back a bit from the muscles man who practically held your buddy a foot off the ground. He lowered Gerald to the ground and stepped away, refocusing on his fire.

It started up in no time, and the campers gathered around it. You looked off into the distance and could see a few other distant lights. Fires or lanterns. There were five cabins in total.

Thicc Water, near the lake.

Breaking Wind, in a clearing.

Earth Girth, near a river.

The Bears, near a cave system.

Taser Fire, on a rocky area near the forest.

You were studying a map that had come with the supplies. Your fingers traced paths and memorized some bigger details. This place felt off, and you wanted to know where to go if you needed to run somewhere. Either away from something... or someone...

Your nervous eyes glanced up at Counselor Mark, a guitar in his hands while he strummed a tune and hummed a song no one knew. He gave off an ill aura. Ted Bundy mixed with Jigsaw and maybe a cult leader or two. Suddenly Counselor Mark saw you watching, and after your eyes met briefly, you looked back down at the map.

"So tell me all your names," he requested, and you looked up with only your eyes, to see his looking across everyone.

People answered, some more reluctant than others. What worried you most is how some who had been very upset being here were suddenly laughing and sharing past stories and tales. Once more that feeling hit you, a feeling it seemed only a few others realized. This place, these people, it was wrong. At least... at least Mark was...

---

You were lying awake in your tent, your buddy Gerald asleep beside you. He wasn't exceedingly friendly, or strong, or smart, but least he didn't snore. You were propped on your arm, a zippo lighter in your hands, lit to provide enough light to read the map. Then you noticed something in the corner. You brought the lighter closer, and it revealed words, full National Treasure style.

Near the logs whom fell, find the stories they tell. A land of old, of death and cold...

What... the... fuck? What was this about?

You suddenly heard footsteps. You clicked the lighter shut, stuffed the map under your bag, and pulled the covers of the sleeping bag over your head. You were nearly silent, but not suspiciously so. You heard them get close to the tent, and heard whispering, but you couldn't identify who.

"Such a shame..."

"Can't follow the rules, can't stay in camp..."

"It is day one, Annus, give them time."

"Life is not fair, nor is death. Time will march ever forward, my friend. Lessons must be learnt in the time they have. Momento Mori."

"Yes, that is true... which tent was it?"

"This way..."

You covered your mouth, hoping they couldn't hear your ragged and terrified breaths. You listened to the footsteps leave. It took you hours to fall asleep, and even then you were plagued by nightmares. Of two men, one in a white suit, one in black, they were familiar but you couldn't place them, their faces just out of sight.

---

"UNUS ANNUS! UNUS ANNUS! UNUS ANNUS!" A chant erupted through a speaker system you hadn't noticed existed, the sound of distorted male voices. You sprung upright, hearing someone rustle the tents and say "Time to get up campers!"

Counselor Mark.

You groaned, and suddenly went still, remembering last night. You waited for Gerald to step out so you could change. You left the tent as well, seeing a fire already started. A majority of the group was gathered round, laughing and joking and making food.

"Where's Jake?" Asked a voice, one that sounded pained and scared.

"Who?" Asked one girl.

"JAKE!" Said the boy, as if we should know. But you did, you actually remembered. Jake and this boy were the two who pointed out Mark breaking the rules. Mark simply laughed it off and said "Jake has been removed from Camp Unus Annus, should've followed the rules. Now, who wants bacon??"

"Me!!" Cheered some, holding out their plates. You stuck farther back, pulling your map from your pocket. You saw a circle appeared around a spot on the map. You couldn't leave alone. Buddy System. Didn't wanna end up like Jake...

"Hey Gerald?"

"Yeah?"

"We're going somewhere, come on."

"But what about-"

"You'll live. Besides, that bacon seems... off..."

"What do you-"

"Just shut up and follow."

"Okaaaay."

He followed you as the both of you headed towards the marking on the map. "Gonna let me know what this is about?" He asked, walking lazily, not even concerned on wild animals in the woods or poisonous plants and crazy counselors.

You yawned deeply, restless from last night's sleep. You didn't have a lot of time. Then you saw it. Stuck under a log that seemed like it had fallen decades ago, poking out, was a journal. "Help me move this," you demanded of you buddy, trying to force the log to roll.

"Y/n, you sure? It's all damp and rotted, there might be like slugs or-"

"Dammit Gerald push the log!!"

He whined again before pushing against it with you, and it rolled over enough for you to kick the journal free.

"All this way for a notebook? Pfft..."

"Yeah, a notebook. One you won't mention or you'll have more than just Mark to worry about," you warned darkly.

What was wrong with you? Would you normally say that? Yes, no? You couldn't remember. There had to be something about this place. A toxic material waste, brain fucking everyone.

Gerald hesitantly agreed to secrecy, then began his journey back, you following close behind.

"Hey, look, Taser Bitches!" Shouted an unfamiliar voice. You both looked around, before seeing a small group of kids, wearing matching bandanas. Thicc Water.

"Alright guys, pelt 'em!!!" Shouted someone, and they raised water balloons.

"What the fuc-??"

You urged Gerald to run and you both began sprinting, water balloons crashing and splatting all around you, the water seemed oddly thicc.

However you escaped with your lives, and luckily it seemed counselor Mark was gone. Good. You pulled the journal out in front of you and read the first entry.

I don't know what day it is. Not what they say. They think today is tomorrow and is also yesterday. I've been here weeks and they're saying day three. This place is wrong, so fucking wrong. But I can't leave. My buddy started the idea of cabins. He seems to be leaving me. I can't escape without help...

You entered your tent and exhaled shakily. You took a seat on the polyurethane floor. Was this from the beginning of the camp? It had to be a while ago, these cabins and all had been here for a long time, the signs and everything super old. Like, decades old. That's when what you read next horrified you.

Counselor Mark and Ethan are up to something. Kids keep going missing and it's only ones in their cabins. I have to get the fuck out of here...

How old are they? What the fuck was this?? Was this real, what did this even mean, that Counselor Mark and Ethan are-

Suddenly there was a rustling on the tent, like knocking, and a scary familiar voice asked "Hey y/n right?"

To be Continued...

A/N: Woo!! I hope to finish this story, or at least get a good few parts out. What's going on? Spoooooky. Anyways, things will obviously get more dramatic as it continues. Hope you enjoyed!

#markiplier #unus annus #crankgameplays #ethan nestor #mark fischbach #amy nelson #camp unus annus #markiplier x reader #annus x reader #unus #annus #fanfic #fanfiction #camp unus annus fic

[charlieliqueur]

AHWM Yancy X Reader

Just One Date?

---

Yancy had made it clear time and time again.

"I'm waitin' for parole. I ain't takin' no shortcuts."

You were right there, in stealth clothes from the heist a few months ago, the key in your pocket, a hopeful look in your eyes, as always. Everytime you came back, everytime you broke in to visit him in person, he refused to sneak out for even a single night.

But this time would be different.

It was your 21st birthday. Yeah, so young to be out pulling heists and getting sent to prison and all, but you didn't care. The thing was, you could finally 'officially' buy a drink, and even if alcohol wasn't your biggest thing, you were gonna use this important birthday situation to guilt trip Yancy into sneaking out for just one night.

You wanted to see him in something other than his prison clothes (and maybe one day, nothing at all). You wanted to see him out and about, normal, happy, getting a taste of what the free world was like now. Maybe you just wanted to make sure he was serious about parole, by reminding him of what waited outside. He seemed determined, every third Sunday when you visited legally, he had a cleaner and cleaner report sheet. He hadn't gotten into a lick of trouble since you 'left'.

It was 11:40 p.m.

About an hour past 'lights out' at Happy Trails. You unlocked the gate, entered, locked it again, and headed for the right cell block. Then you unlocked an outer door, went down a few dark back hallways, through another doorway or two, another hall or three, waited for some guards to pass, silently crept past the other prisoners asleep in their cells, unlocked Yancy's cell, and finally shut the door behind you.

You snuck up, gently easing onto your knees at his bedside, he was fast asleep. You gently shook him, cooing his name. "Yancy... Yancy...?" You whispered, brushing his soft hair out of his face. It was a mess of curls when he didn't have it greased back.

"Hmmmmm?" He groaned, rolling over onto his side, his eyes opening slightly. He was so used to your late night visits he didn't even flinch. "Oh, its youse... happy birthday too..." he said softly, closing his eyes again. You smiled, your heart swelled at the fact that he remembered.

"Yeah, my 21st," you whispered.

"Mmm, 21st, ain't youse so young... gotten youself a couple'a shots yet?" He asked chuckling, tired. He'd probably only been asleep about half an hour.

You sighed, smiling. This man was half asleep in bed making sleepy conversation. "Um, not yet, I was hoping you'd tag along..." you whispered.

Please say yes, please say yes, please say-

"Come on y/n, youse know if I gets caught, it'll be solitary for weeks. And you may end up back in 'ere..." he said, rolling onto his back.

"What if we don't get caught? Hmm? Just one date?"

The last statement surprised him. You knew because he opened his eyes, and propped himself on his elbow, turning towards you. "Date? I ain't been on a date before..." he said surprised. "D-Did I say date? I-I mean, it doesn't- I just thought-" your face had flushed red.

He chuckled slightly, nodded a little, and sat up. "Alright, alright, we can head out for a few drinks. But then we come right back, okay?" He said, and you nodded, standing up happily. He pulled on a shirt and shoes. Not that it mattered, you had clothes in a dufflebag for him. He'd change once the two of you were outside.

He looked in a mirror a moment, before reaching for a small plastic tub. You stopped him and said "I like your hair loose... besides, you won't have to shower again before you get back."

"Youse smart, y'know?" He teased, before you both left.

He knew his ways out, you knew yours. Both were pretty fast, so you picked an option and went with it. Once outside, you passed him the dufflebag and told him to go change, which he hesitantly did so. Then, you were keeping watch outside the storage shed he changed in. Your eyes followed cars as they drove by on the far off road. Safety distance, since this was a prison.

You also kept your eyes out for the guards. When you knew it was safe for a few moments, you quickly changed in a different building. You were done much earlier than Yancy, most likely because he was used to tshirts and prison sweats.

Suddenly you heard a sound. You looked to see Yancy messing with his hair. Your eyes widened, and lips parted slightly in shock. Even if you had bought the clothes and knew exactly what they looked like, you didn't know what they looked like on him. Now Yancy was always handsome to you, but damn. Prison clothes weren't doing him justice.

You hadn't been sure what to get, so you went with a gray dress shirt and some black jeans. He still wore the white prison shirt under, leaving the dress shirt unbuttoned and he'd rolled the sleeves up. The boots you'd stolen from Mark fit Yancy rather well. He looked normal, like what a free man would. He deserved to be free, even if he didn't realize it.

Your eyes watched him as he looked at himself, saying "Not used to wearin' clothes like these. Youse sure about dis?" Then he looked up at you, stopping in his tracks. He only saw you in your stealth outfit, or whatever strange disguises you managed whenever you came on Visitation Day. But not in casual clothes, not going anywhere as yourself. He smiled slightly, and said "Y-Youse look nice." You smiled, looking down, a little embarassed.

"Thanks..." you gushed, before he walked up, and patted his hands on the sides of his legs, unsure of what to do. He hadn't been out in years. Many, many years. You looked at him, and then gestured for him to follow. "I already know a bar, someplace quiet, shouldn't be too busy."

"Alright, let's go then."

The bar was not quiet.

The bar was busy.

Dozens of people, eating, drinking, singing along to a classic jukebox which blared out of older speakers. Yancy looked around as people threw darts and each other around the place. You saw two people get up and start to leave, so you quickly grabbed Yancy's arm and guided him over to the seats. You both sat down, and he looked around curiously, fidgeting with the shirt collar.

"Youse sure about this? I didn't think this would be youses kind'a scene..." he said, and you shrugged. "It's not my favorite, but it's"-memories of the others getting drunk and rowdy filled your head-"...familiar."

"So what's it you want?" Asked the bartender, now standing infront of you two across the bar. "Um, not sure, didn't really plan it out..." you said nervously, looking down a little. The bartender seemed a little impatient, but Yancy casually said "Two doubles, scotch."

The bartender nodded and went off to his work. He returned, set down the glasses, and poured them. "Been a while since I've had one of these..." Yancy said, picking up the glass and watching it a moment. You grabbed yours. The shot glass was thick, and the scotch was a dark golden color. You weren't sure what to expect. Yancy held his out to you, and you smiled and tapped your glass on his, then against the bar, the downed it in one fell swoop.

He stared a moment, as you exhaled sharply. From what you tasted, it was an earthy sort of caramel flavor, with something a little more bitey. He chuckled, taking his a little slower, with less gusto than you had taken yours. He set his glass down on the bar, and out of nowhere a female voice said "Hey there... where are you from?"

Both Yancy and yourself looked to see a woman sitting down in the bar seat next to Yancy. She had a look in her eye, commonplace at bars. You had to admit, she was good looking. That worried you. Technically, Yancy and yourself weren't a thing... He wouldn't be interested, would he?

"Ohio," Yancy answered innocently. He wasn't naive, and knew exactly what she was up to... right?

"Really now?" She said with a smirk, and then introduced herself. "Yancy," he said. You began to worry. The Ohio answer was one thing, he didn't need to be getting swept up into conversation. You, however, were not up for confrontation at the moment. You waved down the bartender and ordered another shot while Yancy wasn't watching. Maybe enough alcohol would calm you down. You didn't want to get drunk, but you didn't wanna get possessive either.

It was a few more shots later, and a bit of conversation between Yancy and the woman later, that you felt this dread in your gut. A pit of worry and jealousy that wasn't quite familiar. You looked over, listening to them talk. Every time she replied to him, in that annoying 'trying to be flirty and sexy' tone, the pit worsened.

"Street boy? Hmm..."

Your body trembled a moment.

"Singing?

Your leg began to bounce anxiously.

"Dance? Now that's something. Didn't think you needed to be a muscle man for musical numbers," she said winking at him, caressing his bicep. That was the line she shouldn't have crossed. You stood suddenly, ready to fuck her up, but you were kinda drunk, and had stumbled into someone. A very large, very intimidating, very temperamental someone. He turned, glared, and grabbed you by the shoulder. "Watch it kid," he growled.

Suddenly he stumbled back, a red spot forming on his face, and beside you Yancy. The prison man stepped infront of you defensively, and glared harshly at the man, fists still clenched. His mood shifted so suddenly, and you worriedly asked "Yance?"

"Hush, doll," he said softly, as the other man stood back up. He tilted his neck to each side, and a series of cracks erupted from the joints. Then he said lowly "Bad move punk."

"Word of advice, walk away," said Yancy, not a whisper of fear. The man glared, and the bar patrons seemed to watch, either choosing a side or stepping away. You glanced back at the stool, and sighed. You started this, might as well make it interesting.

"Ready Yancy?" You asked. "Always," he replied, putting his fists up again. You immediately seized the stool, with a sudden clarity of sobriety, and threw it, knocking the man down.

So it began.

There was the clamber and chaos of a good ol' classic bar fight. Chairs being thrown, pool cues snapped, bottles shattered. People yelled, screamed, and fought. You had your back to Yancy, and his back was to you, as you both kept attackers off one another.

As a majority were either unconscious or had bolted, you both panted and stood a moment, before looking at one another. "Shows what I get for leavin' with youse for a night..." he teased, chuckling. You rolled your eyes and wearily rubbed blood off his broken lip with your thumb. He licked them, before glancing at your own.

He almost seemed to lean in a moment, before suddenly you could hear the police sirens. "Ah fuck," Yancy said in despair, looking towards the front door and windows, where red and blue lights seemed to be approaching. You immediately grabbed his arm, and you both rushed to a back door. You climbed over boxes and crates and anything, eager to escape.

Once you both made it out, you hurried back to Happy Trails. There was still a lot of commotion, so you waited until the heat died down a little before changing. Yancy made his way over the wall, but before you could, he stopped you and said "It's best youse lay low a while. Don't need you stuck waitin' for parole too. But, I'll see youse around, and, uh, thanks. Tonight was, well, interesting to say da least." He smiled, his eyes squinting up adorably as he chuckled. You nodded, and glanced down a moment, but a smile found your face anyways.

"Alright... but Visitation Day, you're stuck with me," you assured. He laughed and nodded. "Wouldn't want it any other way. Night y/n," he said, before pulling away from the gate. But you quickly reached forward, grabbing his shirt. Your face began to flush red, but you had a bit of courage in you. He looked confused, and you pulled him close again, and once he was close enough, you pull his face to yours before he can resist.

Your lips found his, and even if the kiss wasn't that comfortable, given the bars separating you two, it wasn't bad. Not bad at all. It was soft and warm and sudden. When you both pulled away, Yancy's cheeks had been tickled pink. He rubbed the back of his neck, smiling slightly. "W-Why'd youse do that now?" He gushed, unable to meet your eye a moment, his cheeks getting redder.

"Cause I think I'm in love with you," you said shyly, head still foggy from the alcohol, but you were sure of your answer.

"Oh, good, glad we're on the same page," he chuckled, before giving you a reassuring smile and backing away. This time, it was a little easier to let him go. You both glanced back once more at each other before going your separate ways.

Epilogue

You stood outside Happy Trails, nervously waiting. It was almost 6:30 in the evening. As the sun set on this late year day, you saw him. The classic black suit provided by the correction facility for recent releases looked pretty good on him. Walking beside him was Mr. MurderSlaughter, and he walked him all the way to the gate, and you could hear him talking.

"I'll be the first to say, we just might miss you around here Yancy. I'm also not afraid to say I was surprised to see I'd be letting you go today, or any day to be honest. I'm proud of you," said the man, and Yancy smiled.

"Well, I had something worth fightin' for on the outside waitin' for me," he said simply, looking to see you waiting, obviously excited. The gate was opened. Yancy stepped out.

For the first time as a free man in a very long time.

He set down the single suitcase he had, and tugged his suit jacket in place. You rushed up, which caught him by surprise, and you hugged him closely. After greetings and heartfelt words, you pulled away and smiled up at him. "Where to, doll?" He asks, his hands still at your waist. Your eyes speckled with tears of joy as you replied, "Home."

#yancy x reader #a heist with markiplier yancy #yancy markiplier #ahwm yancy #yancy #ahwm #a heist with markiplier #markiplier #x reader #fanfic

[charlieliqueur]

AHWM Yancy X Artist!Reader Headcanons

I haven't done headcanons before but I just had too many ideas swamping around my brain on what precious prison boy Yancy would do for his artsy muse.

For starters, he loves watching you draw. It's one of his favorite things. In prison, it was mostly weight lifting and dance routines, so he was always in awe of your more subtle and peaceful work.

He'll smuggle in sketchbooks for you, along with a bunch of other art supplies like paint, brushes, inks, anything he can manage to get ahold of. He once snuck in pastels hidden in cigarette boxes.

He'll bribe or persuade the guards to let you keep your pens and pencils (since pointy sharp objects aren't really allowed in prisons) and he'll even hide some for you before cell checks.

He pins up everything. Everything. Every messy doodle, sketch, painting. Any work of yours he can find, he's always got it on display proudly, even when you're embarrassed and beg him not to, he still does it anyways.

He's so sure of your skills, he even convinced the Warden to let you paint a portrait of him (Which Mr. MurderSlaughter actually loves a lot and has hung up in his office)

If anyone ever tries to make fun of your artwork or hobbies, or says anything other than praise... well, let's just say Yancy ends up in solitary for a few weeks.

You always tell him not to worry about it and to stop getting into fights over it, but he refused to let anyone say anything bad about your work.

He asks for lessons. A lot. It was also surprising the first time he sat down and asked you to teach him. You started with a few simple things, which he eventually got down pretty well.

He always wants you to design tattoos for him and the gang. Tiny and Jimmy The Pickle always look for cool things with lots of dark tones, whereas Sparkles McGee and Bam Bam are always interested in your more elaborate whimsicle designs.

Yancy demanded you make a design of his and your names, and he would have it put on his shoulder. You warned him that tattoos are-of course-permanent, to which he assured you his love for you was also permanent.

He always gets cute and blushy when you draw him. Even when he tells you that you have better things to be drawing, you continue to draw him, and he not-so-secretly loves it.

He drew a picture of you too, once. He almost got rid of it, embarrassed that it wasn't as good as yours. But you took it before he could, pinned it on your wall, and look at it anytime you feel sad or down.

Sometimes, if he mentions leaving prison (which is very rare) he holds you close and promises he'll get you a top notch artist job, and he wants to make sure you're famous.

But most of the time you just smile and assure him you don't want fame. You have all the recognition you need right in prison, in his arms.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed!

#ahwm #ahwm yancy #a heist with markiplier #yancy markiplier #a heist with markiplier yancy #yancy #yancy x reader #headcanon #headcanons #yancy headcanons #artist #artist reader

[charlieliqueur]

HELLO

To literally anyone who cares, this is a quick notice so you all know I'm not dead. I had a lot of shifting in my hyperfixations and fandoms and it made it hard to sit in one place and start a fanfic let alone finish a decent one. I am in the workshop of a very long fic, but until that one is done I'm hoping to finish a couple short ones (couple thousand words or so) of varying fandoms, just until I finish something bigger, if I ever do.

I might also splash in a few dialogue prompt lists again or something. Again, consistancy in posting is not my strong suit, it only happens when I'm generally proud of a fic or whatever, and so far they all seem kinda garbo. But until next time, I wish you the best vibes 🤙

[charlieliqueur]

Bigby Wolf X Reader

Summary; Bigby is forced into going to a fair outside of the city. He expects to find Mundies and Fables, but not what he actually stumbled upon...

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It was loud.

Painfully loud. Footsteps, bell chimes, laughter, screams, so much noise. So many people. His footsteps hit the ground, grass sparse due to heavy traffic. The pathways were marked with orange cones and plastic tape.

Bigby spotted Beast at a strongman game, Holly and Grendal sitting at a table in the shade, Woody and Jack playing darts. He slowed, seeing Mundies and Fables alike crowding games and stands.

It was overwhelming.

The scents mainly. Sweet, salty, savory, natural, unnatural. All manners of deodorant, perfume, cologne, shampoo, laundry detergent. It fogged up his mind, and he instinctually reached into his pocket for his cigarettes. Sticking a lone one between his lips, Bigby brought the lighter out, and opened it. The metallic sound echoed in his head, as another scent joined the others right before he lit the cigarette.

He stalled, lifting his head up slightly. He took a breath through the nose. It was cluttered with all the other scents, but it was there.

Something so soft, a gentle pheromone of wood, rain, and untouched earth... of home.

It took his mind to memories of a place much kinder, much more pleasant. He searched for the source. A stand, an object, something...

Then a strong burst hit him, like lightning, and he saw you. You ran past, rushing after someone. Your hair a mess, with dandelions and daisies tangled in it. A temporary painting of a wolf sat against your flushed cheek, and a clutter of plastic bracelets and beads littered your wrists and neck, a collection of trophies you had won.

Your smile was a million fireflies, your eyes the sparkle of gemstones, your laughter a cascade of beautiful thunder. You were there and gone in less than a second. You disappeared into the crowds, chasing after your friend, and Bigby's eyes never left you as you ran. They still lingered long after you were out of sight.

"Bigby?"

The voice tugged him from his thoughts. He blinked a few times, slouching slightly. Bigby hadn't realized how alert he'd been, the sight of you such a shock.

He eased, and turned to where the voice came from. He saw Snow, a confused look on her face. "Someone you knew?" She asks, looking past him in the direction you rushed off into. "No... thought I recognized them, but I guess not," Bigby says, glancing back as he spoke. He looked back to Snow. Her hair neatly pulled back and braided, her wrists bare, her skin untouched. So unlike the wild, free-spirited delight that had rushed by.

"Well, Flycatcher, Beauty and I were gonna head to some rides. You in?"

"Uh, no thanks."

"Alright... just try to lay back a bit, okay Bigby?" She says, then she turns and leaves. He adjusted his tie, lit the cigarette, and continued walking.

But you still dominated his thoughts. Even in the chaotic space, you were all he could manage to think about.

Morning turned to noon, noon to evening. And as the colored lights seemed to be more at home, and the families began to leave, the thought crossed his head that he should go. Why would he stay if all he was going to do was mope over a girl he only had just glimpsed?

He slicked his hair back once more, sighing, pulling out another cigarette to try and dilute your presence. It had stuck with him all day.

Just as he lit it, he heard something.

"Oh my gosh, just do it!"

"No, I'm all awkward and it'd be weird."

"And?? Listen, either you do it, or I will. And I won't be gentle about it either."

"Okay, okay!"

It was you. Bigby wasn't sure how he knew. He just did. He pulled the lighter down, prepared to look around like a wild animal for you, but something tapped his shoulder before he had the chance. He turned around carefully, seeing you right there. A smile on your face, even more beads around your neck.

"Hey, I kinda sorta noticed you were wandering around on your own. If that was your plan, totally okay! But, if it wasn't, my friends and I were doing the same thing, hoping onto whatever rides have the shortest lines... if you wanted to maybe, I dunno, come hang out with us...?" You asked, still smiling, only a shyness had overcome you.

"Uh," he said, Bigby wasn't sure how to respond. He was still shocked that you had just strolled up to him like it was nothing. Nobody did that. No one. But here you were, smiling at him and eagerly awaiting a reply. "Its alright if you don't wanna, I figured I'd offer-"

"Nah, I'd, uh, I'd like to," he says, and suddenly your smile doubled, and you brought your arms up slightly, exclaiming "Awesome! Er-- I mean, cool." You rubbed the back of your head, your cheeked very flushed now, smiling, a touch of embarrassment added to your mix of emotions.

He couldn't help but smile slightly. "Well, shall we?" You ask, gesturing for him to follow you. He nodded, following you as you led him into the chaotic fairground full of people. "I have to warn you, some of them are a lot more... spontaneous than me. Don't take too much of what they say to heart, your best bet would be to stick with me," you offered, nudging him with your elbow. "Shouldn't be a problem," he says, pulling the cigarette out and treading it out on the ground. He wanted the whole of you in his mind right now.

He didn't want Fabletown, or being Sheriff, or his friends, or home, or Snow, or anything right now.

All he wanted was you.

"Oh, also, my names y/n! Name's are kinda important," you say, laughing to yourself. "I'm Bigby," he says, and you nodded, quickly saying "That's a rad name."

"Really think so?" He raised an eyebrow, a small smirk he couldn't help. "Oh yeah, that's the thing about me, I don't really lie. I'll phrase things weird, but usually no lying," you say, beaming.

"So what to first?" He asks, and you nearly jumped at his eagerness. "I've actually got a list," you say. But instead of pulling out a phone or paper or anything, you pull up your forearm, a list of ride names and places written on the skin, slightly blocked by all the bracelets.

"Oh, here," you quickly pulled off the biggest bracelet you had on, it being much too big for you. You held it out for him as you walked. He carefully took it, easing it onto his wrist. It fit rather well. "Oh, and some of these, before they break my neck," you joked excitedly, pulling a few of the colorful beaded necklaces off from around your neck, hopping onto your tiptoes, and putting them over his head and letting them fall around his neck.

"Voila! That means... actually, I dunno what it means, something in French," you say, bursting into giggles. He hadn't realized he could love a sound so much until he heard your laugh. "So first is actually, ooh, come on!" You grabbed his wrist and pulled him along, suddenly rushing.

That's how he ended up on a mess of rides with you, playing dozens of games, mostly you winning and him having to deal with your ridiculous victory dances. Your friends sometimes snuck around, yet oddly enough didn't stick around you both that much.

It was much darker now, probably nearing midnight. But you didn't have the faintest sign of tiredness. You seemed determined with your list, that Bigby had helped check off with you. "Oh, Ferris Wheel. I wonder if the line's short enough now? Let's see!" You reached back, grabbing his hand. He felt his face heat up, but you didn't react, you simply held it tightly, joyously rushing down a pathway.

He could hear his heart in his ears, thumping harshly against his ribs. He didn't know why he felt this way... and what was it he was feeling

You had brought the both of you to the line just in time to sneak into the last seats. "Want me to stop it at the top for ya?" Asked the operator as you sat across from Bigby. You both nodded.

Bigby couldn't keep his eyes off you. All of this seemed fake, almost as if a dream. He began to worry faintly that he'd wake up, finding himself in his little apartment, the atmosphere being that of his normal life. He realized how pleasing you were to the senses. Your beauty, your scent, your voice, how your hands felt against his skin. But there was still a box left unchecked, still one left on the list...

He wasn't sure if he should, or even could.

He wasn't sure if he had the courage to. It was such a funny thought, being the Sheriff, breaking up fights and hunting murderers, and yet he turned into a scared boy when faced with a girl.

You tugged him from his thoughts by quickly saying, "Look at the stars! Aren't they beautiful?"

He hesitated, still gazing at you a moment, before looking up where you were. They really were something. But they were nothing compared to how they looked reflecting in your eyes.

"Bigby?"

He suddenly realized he'd been staring. You smiled at him. "Seem more interested in me than the view," you teased, a smirk on your lips. Those lips... he felt his toes curl, not wanting to clench his fists infront of you. He was frustrated, but in a calm way. "Can't help it," he says, you noticing the touch of pink across his cheeks. Your smiled faded, but remained. A small, gentle thing.

He couldn't help but look at your lips. Then, you sat forward a little, as the ferris wheel stopped with you both at the top. You asked, "Did I tell you I can read minds?"

"No, don't think you did. Can you?"

"I can read yours."

"Really, so, what am I thinking...?" He asks, curious.

"Come closer," you urge, gesturing. He played along, sitting forward. But as soon as he did, you quickly slammed your lips against his. He was shocked at first, but soon kissed back, his hand finding your cheek, the other your neck.

But just as the moment began, it was suddenly cut short by the ferris wheel jerking into motion. You both sat back, looking at each other, both blushing madly. The ferris wheel stopped, and you both got off, smiling softly. As you walked away, back into the crowds, Bigby carefully reached, feeling his wrist brush your bracelets, before his hand wrapped around yours.

The night was soon to end, and it made him upset, not wanting this moment to ever go. "I, uh, maybe we could, um..." you couldn't find the words. But somehow he knew exactly what you meant.

"Tomorrow afternoon?" He suggests. You smile, and ask "Where?"

"I know a few restaurants here and there, but maybe something a little more lively would be your style..."

"Yeah, that'd be great."

"Then, here..." he carefully wrote out the address for his apartment on her arm, along with a phone number. "The number is for my office, I basically live there," he jokes.

"Office?"

"Yeah, I'm a Sheriff," he says simply.

"SHERIFF?"

Epilogue

Bigby sat in his office, turning through another file. He had finished writing something, before opening a drawer in his desk, and he stopped. Inside were the necklaces you had given him, along with the bracelet. He smiled faintly, gently sliding the folder on top of them. He shut the drawer, just as the door burst open, and a familiar girl rushed in, immediately sitting across from him. "You will not believe what Bluebeard said to me! Now don't get upset, but this jackass-" and you went on to rant, gesturing wildly with your hands, and all he could do was sit back and smile.

"The only good thing that came out of it was Snow finally giving me the damn key!" You say, slamming it down onto the desk. You huffed, leaning back and making funny faces as you remembered the ordeal.

Bigby reached forward and grabbed the key off the desk, observing it. "This isn't 206's key," he says. "I know," you say softly, your cheeks heating up a little. "This is my apartment's key..." he added, looking at you. "Well I obviously need one, what with you working odd hours. What happens if I get locked out?" You say defensively, not wanting to admit to the other reasonings.

"Why would I lock you out?"

"Whenever you get shot or hurt and know that I'll be giving you hell about it," you say honestly. You did say that you told the truth.

"Why else would you need a key?" He asks, offering that smirk that always made you flustered. "Cause..." you say, getting up and reaching for it, but he pulled it back suddenly.

"Cause why?"

"I can take the key back-" He reached forward and grabbed your hand, stilling you as he stood up. He walked around the desk, and your face got even redder. "Why?" He asked, and you avoiding eye contact, bouncing your legs slightly, nervous. "In case I wanna... surprise you..."

"What kind of surprise?" He asks, leaning forward, lifting your chin so you'd have to look at him. "You're the detective, you tell me," you say, but your blushed face and rushing heartbeat said it all.

He chuckled, kissed you, and pressed the key back into you palm, whispering in your ear, "Then I guess you better hold onto this..."

#bigby wolf #twau bigby #bigby #bigby x reader #bigby wolf x reader #sheriff bigby #twau #the wolf among us

[charlieliqueur]

Random Dialogue Prompts Cause I haven't Finished Anything Else And Feel The Need To Post:

"Been a while, eh? Six years? Seven?"

"You know that tomato is a fruit, right?"

"Ever robbed a bank?"

"Three reasons we don't talk anymore. One, the concert bathroom, two-"

"You know, toxic, acidic, all that? Only instead of an actual poison, it's just you."

"Everyone says forgive and forget. No one says remember and regret."

"Am I the only one who listens to cassettes anymore?"

"Wow, where's your badge, tough guy?"

"Why are you in my house?"

"Fridays are for fires, arsonist pledge."

"Seven days in a week, and yet you find a way to fuck with me every single one of them."

"I don't want to remember, I just want it to go away."

"We were kinda okay for a while…"

"Why are you calling me at two in the morning?"

"How did you get my number?"

"It's because I'm not her."

"What, is he smarter than me? Hotter? Stronger--What? Why would you leave me for him??"

"You don't just walk away."

"I never loved you. I loved the idea of you."

"COME BACK TO ME PLEASE!!"

"There are 456 bricks in that wall."

"The keys to the handcuffs are somewhere in this box of keys, enjoy asshole."

"I never understood ropes. Silk leaves fewer marks in the morning."

"You remind me of pine trees."

"You know what? You taste like coffee."

"I know, I know, I'll be home tonight, I swear."

"You haven't slept in days, please, just lay down."

"Guess who got tickets to an exotic bird show?"

"You listen to TV static?"

"Racoons, my dear friend, racoons…"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"What do you mean 'where are you going'?"

"Do you think Mothman prefers blue or purple?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Is that… is that a snake!?"

"Four days until surgery."

"Just six more worms, buddy."

"I don't want a goldfish, I want a swordfish."

"We've been friends since third grade."

"You saw the photos, didn't you?"

"Don't go in there!"

"It says wash warm, but I honestly don't care."

"Its just a paper cut, calm down!"

"Don't make me spit on you."

"What do you mean there's no tickets left?"

"Its her favorite, please…"

"I-I bought you this."

"Ashes to ashes, burning, lots of fire. I dunno, it's just what people talk about."

"You realize I've never left my house before?"

"Are you more of a basement or attic person?"

"Anything? Anything at all?"

"I want a five pound block of cheddar cheese and I want it today."

"Well there is something you could do…"

"Take this! Take it and run!"

"We are over. Do you need me to spell it out?"

"I don't care what your neighbor thinks, if I get to have sex with you, I get to do it as loud as I want."

"Hmmm, leather."

"Wow, five years and that's the best you can manage? 'Hey, how are you'?"

"Theres a million ways to say 'I love you'... I don't think throwing something through my window and scaring my pet is one."

"First off, that's actually a zucchini…"

"Why is your morning alarm sound a dubstep remix of a rooster crowing?"

"How hard can it be?"

"Listen, it's just three days of unending suffering, and then you can lecture me about how hard life is."

"Did you steal my stamps?"

"Three things you can and will never touch. One, the vinyls. Two, myself. Three, my food."

"You bought me a boat?"

"Why is the ceiling moving?"

"Okay, so the monkey talks, alright, alright…"

"It's tick spray, now hold still!"

"Two teaspoons, not tablespoons!"

"That better not be poison ivy."

"I will put this knife so far down your throat it'll be cutting your shits in half!"

"Number 7, you're up next."

"Its called a Kiss Cam, not a 'spill a beer and half a basket of hot wings on me' cam."

"Three lizards, an egg, half a spoiled potato, and one dash of powdered milk."

I hope this helped someone.

#dialogue prompt #prompts #writing #writing prompt #dialogue ideas #random dialogue #writers block #fanfic prompt

[charlieliqueur]

Bigby Wolf X Reader

Thanks

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He'd spent so long alone, so long wrapped up in cigarettes, work, and exhaustion that love or the idea of it stopped crossing his mind. Until he saw you. In actuality, he smelled you. A scent so unfamiliar and sudden, his eyes instinctually looked around for it. Your natural scent was so alluring and comforting he felt such a sorrow when it vanished, because you'd gone. Bigby had it plague his head for the rest of the day. He clouded his senses with cigarette smoke to drown it out, but the memory stayed.

Then, one day, once more unexpectedly, he smelled it again. And he was determined to follow it to the source this time. All the way to a small bookshop, tall shelves, a single older gentleman at a counter, the shop empty. But the scent of you was so strong, it was fucking with his head.

Then you were there, all of the sudden, racing out of the shelves, and it slowed for him. Watching your hair caught in the wind you made as you rushed, your gentle arms clutching a few books in them closely, eyes lit up with such a vibrant joy they almost shined. You went straight to the counter, and his breath was lost as he couldn't help but stare.

"Here's the books you asked for, sir," you said happily. "Or, well, most of them. I'm having issues finding the last one, at least getting to it," you say, shrugging. "Its alright, y/n-- Oh, Sheriff, what a pleasant surprise! Any specific reason for your visit?" Asked the man, and you turned around to see him.

He had to think of a lie. He couldn't say he'd been intoxicated by the aroma of the girl standing just a few feet away, waiting for his answer with a curious eagerness that set his heart into a thumping frenzy. "Well, from the looks of things, no. Prank call came in I guess, probably just some jackasses trying to cause trouble, sorry to bother you," he says, relieved it was believable.

But you didn't seem impressed. A doubtful scent cascaded over you, but your mouth stayed closed in a gentle smile, before opening to speak. "No problem, mister. Glad to see you take protecting all Fabletown with such care and commitment," she said, and what surprised him more than the statement was the fact that she was telling the truth.

Which only set in further pining.

He didn't want to leave, but in order for his lie to stick as truth, he had to. Now alone in his office, he stared at his paperwork, but couldn't manage to lift a pen. All that was on his mind was you. Your name, face, scent, smile. It fogged up everything. His while body was reacting to it. His heart, his head. He clutched his hands together and set his stumbled chin on them.

It wasn't long before he reacted to this like he did with all his emotions. Uneasy aggression. "Just get out of my fucking head," he grumbled, setting his palms on his forehead, sneering and breathing heavily. But the memory persisted. He wanted to see you again. He didn't know what lie to tell, what reason to give. All he knew is he couldn't sit still with you on hid mind like this.

The frustration began to seep out to others who knew him and spoke to him. Often times he'd zone out, smelling you miles away, it pushing past the cigarettes. Snow would notice his distant behaviour, asking what was wrong. He'd shake his head, adjust his tie, light a cigarette and always reply with 'nothing'.

Nothing was wrong.

Nothing on his mind.

Nothing bothering him.

Nothing going on.

Nothing to worry about.

Nothing.

But there was something.

There was somebody. A somebody with an atmosphere of acceptance and beauty he had never witnessed before, even though he thought he had.

Colin would see him sitting at home, smoking nonstop, drowning himself in Bourbon to try and buzz his mind enough to scrape you off it. But it didn't work. Then he'd ask if Bigby was alright. Same answers as before.

When patrolling, he'd purposely walk by that little shop, maybe hoping to catch a glance through the windows. Sometimes he did. He'd see you writing at desks, standing on ladders putting books back, reading at tables, or just chatting to customers, a warm smile almost always present. He started looking for you in stories. Started trying to find illustrations, so he had something to look at when he couldn't look at you.

It was Bufkin who first noticed a strange pattern. As Bigby had to ask the monkey for the books, the Oz creature would sometimes sit nearby and watch, curious. It was days after Bigby began the habit of sneaking into the Business Office to look through your stories that Bufkin asked "Who is she?"

A question that caught Bigby so off guard he embarrassingly slammed the book shut quickly saying, "W-Who, what do you mean?" He cursed at himself in his head for making such an obvious scene of it. It was only Bufkin, right? He would never piece it all together, right?

"Is it perhaps that the Sheriff is experiencing rather romantical feelings?" The monkey teased.

"No, and watch what you say," he warns, feeling his face heating up. He tried to get it to stop, but that only made it worse. "Oh dear, it is true isn't it?" The monkey asked, surprised. He pulled the book away from Bigby, opening it quickly to the page. "Hey!" He tries to stop the monkey, but it was too late.

Bufkin read through, and grinned slyly. "I swear to god you tell anyone and I'll-"

"You'll what? What is this about, Bigby?" Asked a female voice, belonging to Snow. He stopped, and hesitantly turned to see her, arms crossed over her chest and an eyebrow raised. "Bigby seems to be pining over a girl!" Bufkin blurted out. The Sheriff shot him a glare, which he flinched at.

"Really?? So that's what has been going on! The distance, the zoning out, Bigby why didn't you say anything?" She asks, and he groans. "I've only spoken to her once, its nothing," he says, rubbing his face.

"You do realize we're Fables? Suddenly falling for someone is more common than you realize."

"Not for me," he states, stubborn.

"Yes, even you. Now I don't expect you to talk about it, but you should," Snow says, leaning against the desk the book had been on, glancing at the open Fables book.

On its pages were pictures of you, illustrations that would never do your true beauty justice. But they were close enough to put his heart at ease a moment.

"Her names y/n, pretty sure she works at the bookshop. The one down Wiltshire Ave..." he says, but he wasn't sure he could say much else. The rest of the reasoning for his feelings were rather... emotional. How your smile made him feel, how your scent calmed him.

It was the sort of sappy stuff he wanted no part in... or did he?

More days spent wishing for you, to hold you close, to even fucking talk to you. It was on a rainy evening that his wish came true.

He was walking back to The Woodlands after breaking up a rather rough bar fight. That's when he saw you, coat half on and umbrella hooked on your arm, locking the bookshop door. Or trying to. You dropped the keys the second time when he had made it to you. Your scent mixed with the rain and it sent shocks through his body.

"Need a little help?" He asked, noticing your wet hair and skin, the light from nearby streetlamps dancing on your face and neck. You looked up at him, and smiled embarrassed. "Maybe a little," you admit, holding the keys up in your hands. He carefully locked the doors, handing the key back to you. Yoj smiled and nodded, saying "Thank you so much, glad you could come to my rescue." You carefully tugged your coat on the rest of the way, and he noticed you shiver a second. You pulled the umbrella off your arm and pushed it open.

"No problem, what I'm here for," he says. Of course you heard a simple joke. But he meant it as a lasting promise to be there for you, no matter what. "I usually love the rain, just don't like walking home in it," you admitted, laughing.

"Walking?"

"Oh, yes. But don't worry! It's only a couple blocks," you assured, gesturing in the direction. "Well, I'm headed that way anyways, might as well make sure you get home alright," he says, and you grinned. "Well, if you insist... thank you, again."

"No problem, again," he says, and you both walked, you clutching the umbrella handle close to you. You looked up at him, noticing him glancing at you. But the fact that he was getting rained on concerned you more. You stepped closer to him, and he looked quickly at you. You lifted the umbrella carefully, letting it hover above the both of you two.

"There you are, not fair for me to cover just myself," you say, smiling again. That smile... he had to forcefully keep himself from just putting his lips on yours right then and there. He craved it. Same way he craved being around you, because you never smelled like fear or hate or disgust. Always pleasant surprise, joy, and contentment. You weren't scared of him. He felt maybe you were the only one who wasn't.

"This is me," you said as the both of you stepped under an overhang in front of the dingy apartment building. "Pretty creepy," he says, trying to be light. But in all honesty it upset him to see that you lived in such an unpleasant place. You deserved better in his eyes.

"Yeah, pretty sure the place is haunted. Gets spooky at night, ghosts and stuff, I stay up late sometimes 'cause of it. Thanks again, you know," you say once more. You always were thanking him. Always so grateful. That's when it hit him. The instincts that made him a great Sheriff told him something. Your shifting of body, tone of voice, direction of eyes. You didn't want to be left alone here, you didn't want him to go.

Before you could step too far away, he says, "I don't think I've ever seen an actual ghost."

You turned back towards him and smiled slightly. "I can't promise anything, but if you don't have anything super important... might be able to coax one out," you say.

That's how he ended up in your apartment, listening to cassette tapes and talking. He hadn't even realized how long you'd both been up until he could see the sky lightening. "You ought to sleep, it's basically dawn," he says, and you shrugged. "Probably. You should sleep too though..." you say, and he nodded, getting up and heading to the door.

"Um, Bigby?" You started hesitantly, and he immediately turned back towards you. "Thanks for hanging around with me. It was really fun," you say, and once more a smile arose.

"No problem, anytime," he says, and he meant it. He'd spend the rest of whatever freetime he got with you. "Well, if you're serious, the bookshop is pretty boring most days..."

"I'll have to change that," he said, a small smile crossing his lips, and your eyes lit up. "See you later then," you say, and he agrees, leaving.

He would be there. Again and again. Pining or not, love or not, he would be there for you, and one day with you. With with you. If he played the card right, if he took his time and chose his words carefully, he'd get that smile for himself everyday...

#bigby wolf #bigby wolf x reader #bigby x reader #bigby #twau bigby #sheriff bigby #twau #the wolf among us

[charlieliqueur]

Bigby Wolf X Reader

A/N: This is going to be my first post on a site in one thousand years. So yay me? Anyways, it won't be my best work, but it is far better than my early stuff-*the hovering presence of past writing staring down at me*-so enjoy! There is much more to come if I can manage it, and I'm working on much longer fics, they'll just take time since I can never finish anything ;-;

Pairing; Bigby Wolf X Reader

Prompt; Dialogue Line (Will be bold in writing)

Italics = Memories, Flashbacks, or Dreams

▪️▪️▪️

Your hands trembled, trying to gather your breath. You stared at the man before you, clutching his wound. You dropped the gun, your heart thumping. "Was that supposed to hurt?" he asked smirking mildly, noticing your very concerned look. "Hurt?? I-I shot you!"

"Shouldn't have snuck up on a girl like that," he chuckled wearily, pulling the bloodied part of his shirt away from his chest.

"A-Aren't you upset or something?" You asked, shaking. This couldn't be real. It couldn't.

"Huh? No, no it's alright. It was my fault, just try not to do it again," he joked, letting the bloody shirt sit back down onto his chest. "How are you still-- I should call a hospital, a doctor, somebody-"

"Do you not know?" He asked, a confused look on his face. "Know what??" You asked, still shaken from the situation. "You're not a Fable, are you?"

"A what?"

You kicked off your shoes, looking around the creepy damp apartment. Home sweet home? It had been for the past two weeks. Ever since you shot the dear Fabletown Sheriff. He had snuck up on you, accidentally he says. You popped a round in his chest, and when he didn't immediately fall, things got awkward.

He explained what a Fable was, how you were now in danger, and then he'd bribed a few people here and there through whatever means to make sure you had somewhere to stay. He visited to make sure you were alright. He said it was to 'make sure you stay out of trouble', but you could tell what he really meant. You didn't have any friends or family of much anyways, so he was a welcome sight every now and then.

You were alone on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, listening to people fighting upstairs. Another day in paradise. Suddenly, the door swung open, and you shot into a seated position, but it was simply Mr. Wolf. He stepped in, pushing the door shut behind him. "Ever heard of knocking?" You asked, giving him a look. He grumbled. He set a stack of files on a nearby desk, walked over, and fell down onto his back on the bed lazily. "Rough day?" You asked, smiling slightly. All he did was nod, eyes shut. "You ought to get your own bed. I mean, I don't mind you crashing here and all, but sleeping in a chair-" he pressed a hand wearily to your lips, silencing you.

You leaned away, gently pushing his hand back over to him. "I got beat pretty bad. I just wanna lay down a second…" he says tiredly, and you notice the bruising around his face, a cut on his jaw, and the mess of his hair, worse than it normally is. You gently push it out of his face, observing the injuries. He opened his eyes slightly, looking up as you carefully looked at the marks. "I'm alright," he says stubbornly, pulling away.

"Busy trying to keep you a secret," he jokes, his lips curled slightly. "Hm," you hummed thoughtfully, looking out a window. "You could've gotten rid of me. Killed me or somethin, used that special magic apparently Fables get to use… why didn't you?" you asked. It wasn't a sad statement, just curious. He noticed you were always so curious, wanting to know things. His eyes opened a little more. You looked down at him, hair falling into your face. "What do you mean?"

You sighed slightly, smiling nonetheless, looking down from him to your lap. "Nothing, just rambling-" you felt him grab your face gently in one hand, and you looked at him. He sat up carefully. "You wanna know why I went through all this trouble to keep you around?"

"Maybe…," you shrugged casually.

He moved his hand from your chin to your cheek softly, and you felt your heart race, his hazel eyes peering into yours. He looked away slightly, smiling slightly to himself. "Because I feel at ease around you, and I, um..." he says softly, looking back at you. He hesitantly reached forward, his hand brushing yours. "You love me...?" You suggested boldly, and he looked at you, and nodded. Your eyes widened, lips parting slightly in shock.

"Really…?" You asked, a soft smile grazing across your face, and he nodded. You felt a sudden urge. It hit you with such force that any worries you had vanished. If it happened so be it... You lunged forward, bringing your lips to his. He wasn't sure what to do at first, your arms wrapped tightly around his neck and shoulders, lips pressed forcefully against his, eyes shut tight. But then he relaxed, closing his eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist, kissing you back. It lasted, what felt like, forever.

When you pulled away, your face was a thousand shades of red. You looked at him, that brown hair and stubbled jaw. His hazel eyes, always seeming to have a flicker of gold hiding behind his worries and exhaustion.

You smiled at him. God, how he loved that smile. The way it lit up your whole face in a new way. The way your eyes crinkled and cheeks lifted. You always looked so different when you trully smiled.

He couldn't help but smile in return. "You can do it again if you want…" he teased softly. You laughed, before leaping at him again, and he held you even closer this time. As long as he could come see you every once in a while, Bigby knew any days beating would be worth it…

#bigby #twau #fanfic #xreader #wolf #the wolf among us #bigby wolf #bigby x reader #twau bigby #bigby wolf x reader