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#but ian's there to take over and to be the calming presence they need when it all gets too much
runnning-outof-time · 2 years
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Birmingham | Tommy Shelby x Reader (Part 2)
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Previous Part
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader
Summary: Tommy assigns protection for (Y/N), who feels a bit uneasy about it at first. She learns quickly, though, that it may not be a bad idea. Later on, Arthur suspects something major about her.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 2918
A/N: so I’m doing this....it’s been a while since I’ve written a proper series, so bear with me, please. I’m hoping to have a new part posted each weekend. I’d love to hear what y’all think of it!! Enjoy! :)
Let me know if you’d like to be tagged!!
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A week had passed since Tommy assured that (Y/N) would be safe as long as she was living in Birmingham. Within that week, nothing much happened. She went to her shifts at the Garrison, she got some more sideways looks from Grace, and she continued with trying to make her apartment into a home.
She had been asked to stay at the pub later than usual tonight. A large shipment of stock items had arrived only an hour before closing, so she was stuck with unpacking it. This would be the first time she'd be at the pub at night since the incident that occurred a little over a week ago. To say her nerves were on high alert was an understatement.
Humming to herself quietly while she worked on organizing and stacking crates, she didn't even notice the man standing in the doorway to the stockroom. "(Y/N)," he called out, making the woman jump in her spot.
"Mr. Shelby, I didn't see you there," she said as she tried to collect herself, her hand going up over her heart. "You scared me," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I need to have a word with you," he told her, and although he didn't explicitly comment on her reaction to his presence, a hint of an amused grin played on his lips.
"Ok," she nodded, moving to walk to the door once she was completely calm again. "Is something wrong?" she asked the same question as she did a week ago while they walked down the hallway to where the establishment's office was located.
"No," Tommy responded with a slight shake of his head. When they got to the office's door, he opened it, allowing (Y/N) to step into the room first before he followed her and closed it behind him.
(Y/N) immediately noticed that she and Tommy weren't the only two people in the room. Standing in the corner were two men, who looked to be around her age. They wore straight-faced expressions and similar garb to what Tommy and his brothers donned daily. "I'm...confused?" she couldn't help but comment on the two random guests that she didn't expect to be meeting.
"These men have been brought on to watch over you," Tommy answered her question as he moved over to the leather chair, "to protect you," he continued after sitting down.
"To do what?" (Y/N) was still confused.
Tommy ignored her question and continued on with his explanation: "their names are Ian and Mason. They will be with you when you are traveling from your home to here; and to wherever else you decide to go. They will act as surveillance and will make sure that there will be no surprise visits from your family. In the act that that would occur, they know how to neutralize the situation."
(Y/N) let the silence hang in the air for a moment, allowing the information she'd just been hit with to sink in before she responded to him. "That's very nice of you, Mr. Shelby, but I think I'll be fine on my own," she finally said, trying to politely decline the help he was offering her.
"I told you that you would be safe here, (Y/N)," Tommy told her, his eyebrows raising slightly before he continued, "this is me keeping you safe."
"And I appreciate that, I really do," she stressed to him before taking a deep breath and thinking over her next words. "I don't think having two men follow me around is necessary though."
"You've had two men come to try and take you back to Sheffield after you were only here for a handful of weeks," he reminded her of the very event she was trying to forget, "I find it hard to believe that your brothers will give up after this first attempt...especially after their men didn't return home."
That was just that one time. Those words were hanging on the tip of her tongue, but she didn't say them. He brought up a good point. She just wished she wasn't still caught up in the middle of being involved with a gang. "Mr. Shelby..." she sighed as she trailed off, not knowing what to say next.
He took her cut off response as her conceding to his plan. "These men will stay with you. I've chosen them myself...I know they're good for it," he assured her, nodding his head as he spoke.
(Y/N) glanced over at the two men after Tommy was finished speaking. The man on the left was slightly stockier in his build than the man on the right, but both looked as though they were physically fit. 'Mr. Left' had a peaked cap on, with no hair sticking out from under it, making (Y/N) wonder if he was completely bald. He had a mustache, but it was a good bit smaller than the other man whose mustache was the staple of his appearance: Arthur Shelby. 'Mr. Right', who had a thinner build, was standing with his peaked cap clasped in his hands. Because of that, (Y/N) was able to see the head of sandy brown hair he had. It was, of course, tapered off at the sides, but it was not done nearly as harsh as any of the Shelby brothers' were. He had no facial hair and his jawline was soft, which made him look to be the youngest man in the room.
"They're good for it?" she repeated his statement with her eyebrows raised slightly. She didn't say it in a condescending tone; rather it was her way of making sure that what he was telling her was true.
"They're good for it," he flipped her question back into a statement, nodding his head once more to show his certainty, "they will keep you safe."
She looked between Tommy and the men a few times before eventually nodding her head. "Ok," she then said, her eyes falling back onto Tommy.
"Good," Tommy responded to her single word statement with one of his own, happy to hear that she'd accepted his plan. "They'll take you home tonight."
"Ok," (Y/N) repeated her previous response, nodding once more. "Am I free to get back to finishing up my jobs for the day?" she asked him, jerking her thumb back in the direction of the door.
"Yes, you are," he nodded, allowing her to begin taking steps back towards the door.
Before she opened it, she turned back to face Tommy. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby," she said, a slight smile on her face as a physical show of gratitude. She then glanced over at the two men and sent them similar smiles.
"It's my job to keep you safe," Tommy responded, a ghost of a smile flashing across his lips before his expression turned serious again.
It's not your 'job', and I can keep myself safe, (Y/N) wanted to say, but the words died before they left her lips. She instead decided to accept his offer and continue on with her night. "Thank you," she mused again before opening the door and exiting the office.
She returned to the stockroom and exhaled a long sigh. This was not necessarily where she wanted to be at the moment...she didn't like that she'd gotten mixed up in the activities of yet another gang, and was now being offered protection by them. Protection. The same thing that was offered by her family's gang back in Sheffield. She hoped that protection from the Shelbys didn't come with the same backlog that protection from the Weller Boys entailed. Only time would tell, and all that she could really do was wait and find out. Something about the way that Tommy went about it though gave her the feeling that things might be better this time around...that she may actually be safe.
Trying to put her mind to rest, she focused on humming a tune and continuing with stacking and organizing the remaining crates. The work wasn't going to do itself. She needed to get back to it.
After finishing up her jobs and making sure that the lights to the stockroom were turned off, (Y/N) made her way to the main doors of the tavern. The two men she'd met earlier were standing by the door, which didn't surprise her because Tommy had said that they'd be escorting her home.
"Are you ready to go, ma'am?" the man who she'd previously nicknamed 'Mr. Left' asked, his voice gruff.
"Yes," she nodded, wanting to correct him so that he'd call her (Y/N), but she ultimately let it be. She continued on to the doors and opened them, making the men fall in beside her.
The walk back to her apartment was quiet, but it wasn't awkward. She didn't quite know what to say to these two hired bodyguards, and it also seemed like they weren't up for conversation, so she just let them be.
"This is my lodging," she announced as they approached the building with the sign hanging overhead.
"We will be here tomorrow morning before the start of your shift," the brown-haired man, 'Mr. Right', told her, as they all stopped at the entrance of her building.
"Thank you," (Y/N) smiled appreciatively.
"Just doing our job, ma'am," 'Mr. Right' responded, flashing her a smile before he bowed his head slightly and tipped his peaked cap at her. The gesture made (Y/N)'s smile widen as she simultaneously made the mental note to make sure he wouldn't call her ‘ma'am’ either.
"Have a good night," she told the two men as she opened the door to the building.
"You as well," 'Mr. Right' answered, finishing the conversation before turning to walk off with 'Mr. Left', who was already in motion. (Y/N) continued into the apartment building, heading straight up to her unit and locking herself inside.
She took another deep breath as she made herself her nightly tea, mulling over everything that had come to light that day. She hated how much her situation now reminded her of what she was running away from, but she held onto a slight hope that maybe things wouldn't play out exactly how they did back in Sheffield. Tommy and his actions towards her gave her that hope.
——
The next day, (Y/N) made her way down to the apartment building's door and exited onto the street. Upon glancing to the side, she found that only one of the two men from last night was present today.
"Good morning, ma'am," he greeted her with a tip of his cap, similar to the gesture he'd done last night.
"Good morning," (Y/N) returned the greeting before glancing around again. "You're alone?" she decided to ask him after her searches for 'Mr. Left' came up short.
"Yeah," the man nodded his head as the two began walking, "Ian requested another job...said that babysitting a helpless woman was not what he signed up for when he joined the Blinders," he then gave her some information on 'Mr. Left''s, who she now knew was named Ian, whereabouts.
"Oh, ok," (Y/N) nodded at the information, not really sure how to take it. Although she didn't like being referred to as a 'helpless woman', she understood why she could be seen as such. These two men were tasked with watching over her; constantly making sure that she was safe...she recognized his comparison to babysitting. "You decided that you're up for babysitting though?" she asked him after they'd been walking for a few moments.
"Me?" he asked, glancing over at her briefly before a smile broke onto his face, "yeah. I recognize that it comes with the life...I knew I wasn't going to be startin' off in the upper ranks; doing the good jobs. You've gotta work your way up somehow, and I figured that doing a job that the boss specifically asked for me to do himself would be a good way to do so," he explained his motives behind taking the job to her. (Y/N) nodded along in understanding.
"Your name's Mason then, right?" she asked after a few moments had passed.
"My last name's Mason, but people just tend to call me by it. My first name's Matthew," he corrected her before politely informing her of his actual first name.
"Ah, ok," (Y/N) nodded as she committed the change to memory, "up until a minute ago, I was calling you 'Mr. Right', so knowing your actual name is a big help for me."
Matthew grinned at her words. "'Mr. Right', huh? You have a premonition about me or something?"
(Y/N)'s cheeks heated up as she realized the other connotation behind the nickname that she'd given him. "No, uh...I only referred to you as such because you were the man standing on the right," she defended herself, feeling bashful all of a sudden.
"That makes sense," he agreed with her thought process, his grin still present, "forgive me for taking it in that direction."
"Oh you're fine. I didn't realize it until you brought it up," she brushed his apology off, "however...you could be considered 'Mr. Right' because you're the only one who stuck around," she then sent him a smile. Matthew only chuckled at her statement before dropping his gaze to the ground. "Is there a reason why you're called Mason as opposed to your first name?" she asked after silence had fallen between them for a few moments.
"It's a...tradition I guess. My father, his father, and then his grandfather and several generations before that were all stonemasons. They worked various jobs around Small Heath and it's been my family's legacy for quite some time...hell, it's how we got our family name. We were always known as the masons, or mason, and it's stuck. I've decided to break away from that though...manual labor doesn't seem to interest me," he gave her some backstory on his family.
"So you've decided to join a gang instead," (Y/N) pointed out, unable to hold the slight chortle back from escaping her lips.
"I suppose so, ma'am," Matthew responded, chuckling as a smile formed on his face.
"Call me (Y/N)," she corrected him, not wanting to hear herself be addressed as 'ma'am' again. She'd grown up calling her mother, and every other older woman in her life for that matter, by that name, and hearing herself be called it now made her feel like she was old.
"Ok...(Y/N)..." he tried it out for himself, a grin forming on his face, "I like it."
"Thanks," (Y/N) laughed slightly as she looked down the road, seeing the Garrison coming up in the near distance.
"Mr. Shelby mentioned your family last night when he brought you into the office...are they the reason why you're being protected?" Matthew switched the conversation to a more touchy topic, making (Y/N) stiffen up slightly.
"I, uh....it's a long story, actually," she stated, all of the mirth now absent from her voice.
"I wouldn't mind hearing it," Matthew didn't quite catch her shift, "was there bad blood or some sort of family fallout or something? Some sort of business deal gone wrong? Are you acting as a spy?" he started firing off guesses, his voice lowering as he finished his statement, making it sound like he was uttering some forbidden words.
(Y/N) locked up even more at his questioning, subtly quickening her step so that they'd get to their destination faster. "I don't think I'd have enough time to tell you it," she said, only a few steps away from the Garrison now.
Matthew finally noticed the shift in her nature. He paused for a second before falling back in behind her, walking with her right up to the Garrison's doors. "Some other time then," he dismissed the topic before grabbing hold of the door's handle and opening it for her.
(Y/N) wanted to correct him and assert that he'd never be learning about her backstory, but she instead decided to thank him for his gesture and stepped inside the building. Their conversation ended there, and (Y/N) tried to shake off the feelings that were starting to arise so that she could go to the backroom and start her shift.
She'd just gotten into organizing the bottles of alcohol when she heard her name being called from down the hall. Setting down the bottles in her hand, she exited the stockroom and made her way to the office. "Yes?" she asked, seeing Arthur Shelby sitting in the chair behind the desk.
"Get in here," he said to her, a serious expression on his face.
“Is something wrong, Mr. Shelby?” she asked, inwardly hating how many times she’d asked that question over the past few days.
“Yeah,” Arthur nodded, glancing down at the paperwork on his desk before his eyes met hers again. “Yesterday’s payout ain’t matchin’ up...there’s less money in the register than what was recorded. You were the last to leave last night. All hands point to you in this.”
(Y/N)’s eyes widened at his accusation. She went to defend herself, but her throat went dry; her mind spiraling as she tried to think of how she could get herself out of this situation.
“Did you take the money, (Y/N)?”
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Next Part
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Tagged: @alreadybroken-ts @mgcllovdrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @golden-hoax @elenavampire21 @peaky-cillian @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @easilyobessedbutflighty @shelbydelrey @december16-1991 @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @sunsetmourners @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @l1-l4 @chlorrox
**Note: I’ve added my Tommy taglist to this...if you’re on it and don’t want to be added to this series’ taglist, please let me know! I’ve also added those who responded to my initial question about this...again, if you don’t want to be added, let me know!
SERIES MASTERLIST
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shinygalaxyperson · 1 year
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I'm not from here
“I’m not from here” little Ian believes all his life, he knows he’s different.
He’s special.
Like hanging out with the boys from the neighborhood is hard for him, because their emotions are too confused,too loud.
Except one boy.
Ian doesn't know why, but he finds him intriguing: always angry, always shouting, his real emotions hidden. Ian loves to observe him, captivated. When no one is looking, the anger disappears, his face softens, his blue-eyes smiling.
He’s beautiful.
Too soon, the mask is back on.
Ian wonders what's the story behind that mask.
What's the story of that boy?
Picture prompt
Ian doesn’t see the boy for a few days.
One day he is here,
He has a black eye and a man is yelling at him. Ian hides and wants to cry because the man is pure evil, and the boy is terrified.
Finally, the man left.
The boy tries to hide his tears and finally sees him.
He’s afraid but doesn’t move.
Something happens, a tiny spark of hope, tiny, but it's here.
The boy gives him a shy smile, and Ian can read his true aura now.
Deep blue, yellow and orange like a sunset.
It’s so beautiful
Three things
Ian needs to hide, to escape all that noise in his head, he can't breathe, it's overwhelming, He runs to his secret place in the library.
Someone is already here in the darkness of his sanctuary, the blue-eyed boy. When he sees Ian he doesn't say a word, he moves a little and lets Ian sit next to him.
He takes deep breaths, focuses on the boy's peaceful presence, and finally everything is calm again.
Ian has two things going in his life: his family and his gift, but something is missing, maybe this boy can be his third one.
Mean and scary
Ian knows the truth about the boy
The other children of the school are afraid of him, Ian hears what they say about him, they think he's mean and scary, always angry. It’s not what they think.
Ian knows who he is, when they hide together in the library, they don't really talk, but Ian feels it, how he's afraid all the time, how he tries to be brave and strong.
Ian's curious, but the boy trusts him, so he never asks why he is sad and hurt.
All Ian can do, is be there for him, be his friend.
Karma
Before Monica left, she told him stories, and he always loved the one about karma and how he needed to be a good boy if he wanted to have a good life.So he’s a little worried because the boy is always in trouble at school.One day, he hears them talking about him and something called social service. Ian believes they want him to be punished and sent away. Ian cries because he doesn't want his friend to be taken away.Maybe he needs to be good for two, maybe he could have a little bit of his karma.
Song
Fiona knows something is wrong, she always sees it when Ian is worried. 
Like every time she takes him in her arms and sings to him his favorite lullaby.  
Ian wonders if anyone is singing for his friend, or if anyone is reading him stories, and giving him hugs.  
Ian would like the song to fly, he wants to send colored notes dancing to his house.  Ian wants to sing for him, and he imagines his friend smiling.
Maybe if he tries hard enough his friend will be able to hear him and Ian hopes he makes him feel better.
Wilhelmine - Eins sein
In the art room, Ian sits alone in the back of the class. He is lonely because his friend is not here.
After class, he'll go to see him at his house, maybe he's sick today.
Ian wants to make him a drawing, something nice to cheer him up.
He doesn't care if the other children in the class are going to make fun of him.
They don't understand him, they never did, Ian can feel it, and he doesn’t want to listen. 
His friend is the only one who cares about him.
He's everything. 
He’s the best of everything
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Rain
The day seems to never end, Ian is getting more and more impatient.
Something is wrong, he can feel it now. 
Outside a storm is coming, like a messenger of bad news.
When the class is over, Ian runs.
The more he gets closer to his friend's house, the more he knows something bad happened. 
He should feel his aura now, but he can't find him anywhere. Where is he?
When Ian arrives, he understands: the house is no longer here, nothing left but ashes.
Rain on his cheeks, little Ian drops on his knees. 
Or maybe it's his tears.
“All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes”
Twenty years later…
Ian is exhausted after a particularly hard shift.
His choice's career as an EMT is not easy, 
feeling everyone's pain and fear.
Ian closes his eyes, he just needs a moment, and doesn't realize he is falling asleep…
 “All that blood looks good on you. It really brings out your eyes” 
Ian wakes up confused, heart beating like crazy.
He was talking to a man, he doesn't remember his features, just his eyes, blue like the ocean.
He knows him, even if he can remember, who it was? It's not a dream, a premonition maybe? 
Ian smiles, something is happening.
Gamble
Ian's ambulance is called for a bar fight, a gamble went wrong.
Ian hates that kind of place, so much emotion, he can't think clearly.
He takes a deep breath.
People have cuts and bruises, the usual.
Something else is different, a strange feeling like if someone is calling for him, very far away.
Curious, Ian looks around him until he finds a man, eyebrow bleeding, who is looking at him with a smile.
Black hair, blue eyes…
A spark in his mind, a memory of two little boys hiding together.
Then he hears it, 
Ian, do you remember me?
Tease
It's him… 
He found him! 
It's been so long since he thought about him, when he lost him, the memory hurt too much.
Now he’s there, and he's so beautiful. 
His aura is still the same, and it’s  waking up feelings for a long time forgotten: safe, cared, loved. 
Something he thought was lost forever: hope.
Ian comes closer, and he smiles because he knows what he’s supposed to say, his dreams had whispered his line to him. 
But no need to tease him yet, they have plenty of time.
They found each other again, and it’s all that matters.
Flood
They talk all night, once the floodgates opened they can’t stop.
Mickey tells him about the fire: Terry’s shitty drug lab attempts set the whole house on fire and put him in prison for a long time.
Then the social service sent him and his little sister to an aunt who lived outside the city.
They were safe.
Finally, Ian hears it again, the soft voice in his mind
“I missed you so much”
With disbelief, he asks Mickey
“how do you know”
“I always knew you were special”
Ian laces their fingers together and smiles
“you are special too”
I’d rather have you, cursed or not
“Are you sure ?”
“I’m fucking sure, what’s the problem ?”
“It’s me, I mean my gift or my capacities, we don’t know anything about it, could be a malediction, or maybe I’m cursed!”
“Well I’d rather have you, cursed or not”
“I still don’t understand how you’re not more curious about it, or afraid”
“Ian, I wanted you the minute I saw you twenty years ago, I had plenty of time to think about it, I want you just as you are.
“Just like that ?”
“Yes, just like that, so what’s your answer?”
“ I'll marry you. Of course, I'll marry you”
The end
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the1simp · 1 year
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ᴘʟᴀʏing ʀᴏᴜɢʜ
(p3)
arriving at the place where your friend mc works, you open the glass door , entering and greeting him
-hello mc, so how are you today?
-umh... i'm fine
a little worried  you come closer to him, but you noticed that behind him was a tall boy with blue hair and a colorful style
-Won't you introduce me to your new friend mc?
-huh?! you can see him?
-sugar your friend is 6 foot tall  only a blind man wouldn't  see him
they both exchanged looks like they were having a telepathic conversation ,the boy in blue approaches and with a smile introduces himself
-hello my name is jack
-so nice to meet you jack, my name is (y/n)
holding out your hand so he could shake it, you notice mc's nervous reaction, but you don't think any of that because mc became a more anxious person after breaking up with ian. just thinking about it again made your blood pressure rise, bo who was happily hanging from the necklace, vibrates a bit to calm you down, which works right away, finally squeezing your hand jack smiles once more and immediately goes back to mc.
-So when were you thinking of telling me that you got new friends mc, if I didn't know you I'd say we're ashamed of me .
He grins but it was forced , once again worried about him, you reach over and offer him a hug, which he accepts right away and starts trying to control his crying, looking at Jack to encourage him to join the hug.you then say :
-mc ... I know that everything is not well, and for a while it won't be, and although I don't know Jack ,I can see that he brings you happiness, and as your friend I encourage you to pursue that happiness, I only ask you both to not forget me.
mc finally manages to calm down if and after a few more minutes of conversation, now lighter the three have said goodbye, (y/n) goes on his way to his next message, bo comes back vibrates again, and putting on some headphones and holding his phone turned off to look like he was on a phone call with someone she asks him
-yes bo , are you ok?
-you just talked to a ghost...
-huh?!
-I thought you knew
a few minutes in silence you answer him .
-I didn't happen to know but I don't take back what I said, he seems to bring happiness to mc's life and I know very well how much he needs someone besides me in his corner.
Bo didn't say anything, luckily he didn't feel any insecurity in the presence of the two strangers, but just imagining other people in the same situation created discomfort in his being.
arriving at the grocery store, entering and taking a basket, you start talking to him again.
-you know, I'm really happy that I met you, I never thought I'd find someone like you
- someone Like me ?
- yes, that likes me unconditionally
He smiled, not quite sure how to react, just letting his face redden and his eyes unfocus .
putting bread in the basket you ask
-any suggestions for today's dinner
-hmm... ramen maybe or soba
-huh...I think it's a good idea
looking for the ingredients and heading to the cash register, you put the items on the counter
The guy who was working the register was looking at you, but he was doing it in a creepy way and your anxiety was increasing, trying to quickly ignore him. You waited for him to finish registering your items to pay to go on your way .
-hello doll
-...
-oh you're the silent type huh, i love it when a woman know their place.
ok this was starting to get ridiculous, and if he doesn't shut up and do his job you're going to take drastic measures
-I've never liked girls who talk a lot, you know, and you're even pretty pretty, maybe we can go out one of these days...
-ya... no
-oh com on don't play hard to get , I was just being nice
-And I told you no, can I pay now or do I have to ask the manager to do it?
-man , you didn't need to be a bitch about it
mutters the boy, but he was lucky , because your social battery was already exhausted and the only thing on your mind at the moment was to be at home in the company of bo .
paying for the groceries and returning home you put everything in the right places and sit on the couch for a while, taking Bo out of your necklace and looking at him, sighing to see his cute face but he was a little upset, caressing him a little his face relaxes a little.
...
                                         🐶ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ🐶
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yukidragon · 11 months
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Oh my goodness! I completely understand if you don’t immediately want to write more about Alice having Ian’s baby au, but the next time you would like to I would love to hear more about it! Your au’s and ideas are always so well crafted! I can’t get enough of your writing or Sunny Day Jack ideas!!! :)
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Thank you so much for your sweet praise. It really means a lot for me to hear. I'm glad you enjoy my writing and headcanons!
I'm really glad this pretty dark AU has been entertaining for you and others despite some of the heavy topics in it. I appreciate that you want to hear more, but I think I'll want to take a bit of a break before I dig deep into it again given how heavy it is, especially since I just did a follow up of sorts discussing Ian's more problematic traits when it comes to his relationship with MC. It might be a good idea to focus on something a little lighter next as a palette cleanser, hahaha.
Though maybe I could think of a couple bright spots for that particular AU. Hmm...
Alice's family, at least those still living at the King house, do all chip in to help her take care of Lily. This is good since her health took a hard hit from the pregnancy and she would struggle otherwise. This allows her to have more time to rest and recover.
This also allows Jack more time to talk to Alice one on one despite the presence of a newborn demanding mommy's attention. Granted, a lot of time is spent just resting in the guestroom or outside in the garden when she's not taking care of the baby, but Jack does his best to keep Alice entertained while she's recovering, and he's the absolute best at being a cuddly teddy bear for her when she has to lie down.
The King house still has plenty of baby stuff in storage, so they're well prepared to help Alice out with the baby. It's more reason why mama Lycoris wants Alice to just move back home for good. Their house is big and she won't mind, nor will papa Zephyr.
Yup, papa King has a name now too. Guess this AU is oddly helping me with picking out names, huh?
Jack is really good with children, and whenever Lily starts crying, he just has a knack for getting her to calm down. It's almost like magic how he can just radiate calm emotions and help her understand that there's nothing to fear. Alice can't help but feel the same way about Jack really. He's just such a wonderful presence in her life after things have gotten so hard on her. He's been invaluable to help Alice take care of Lily and minimizing her stress.
Jack's empathy cheat and connection to both Alice and Lily really comes in handy at this point doesn't it?
While Alice is going to need more time than in Sunshine in Hell to even think about being in another romantic relationship, she does grow really close to Jack very quickly. Although... he's not the only guy crushing on her who wants to help out.
When Shaun comes back in town, he would have crashed with Alice for a while, but since she's a guest at her family's place, that's not doable. He does, however, get a nice bed and breakfast nearby until he finds a new place to settle down in, and he stops by as often as possible, much to Jack's annoyance. Alice is grateful for his visits and he never fails to make her laugh, which is also to Jack's annoyance.
Shaun even brings Moonpie over to visit Alice, and he mock fights with her over whose baby is cuter. Alice and Shaun eventually concede on a draw of a vote of one vs one... until Jack acts as tiebreaker and throws in his vote for Lily. That will probably be how Alice decides to try introducing Jack's existence to Shaun, though it's possible Alice will tell one or more of her family members about Jack before that. Coraline would just be thrilled to meet a ghost after all.
Needless to say, Shaun is both excited to meet Jack and a bit wary given Alice is in a vulnerable state. Still, she does insist Jack helped her, especially when Ian kept trying to see her, so that does give Jack some brownie points in Shaun's book.
Not that the feeling will necessarily be mutual from Jack. Shaun is yet another obstacle between Jack and his sunshine after all. Who knows though, maybe they'll bond over their mutual disdain for Ian and desire to protect Alice here too.
Huh. This got longer than I expected it to. I guess there are some more bright spots even in this dark AU than I thought. Then again I'm always a sucker for thoughts about my OTP being cuddly and sweet. I'll leave this post on that note with the image of Jack spooning Alice from behind while she nurses Lily, being this big protective teddy bear to his beloved sunshine and little sunspot.
@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur
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mtnkat3 · 2 years
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Tu.9.27.2022 11.24pm
Dear Lord,
Thank You for today!
You woke me to get the truck to the shop for much awaited repairs, although still need rear tires, & a new windshield. I was able to get errands run. Got cobra settled, now pay in blood. Sigh. But You reminded me the truth of wh by having my fingers go numb holding the chicken handle in the 911 because he was so pissed off & screaming driving & acting like a maniac multiple times today. Such a douchebaggery asshat jerk. Sigh. But then You shined on me! You have been giving me calm today! I was able to get some laundry done, & I finally got an appt with counselor on Monday! Yay! Now, to get to work! But most importantly, a former sis/law is kind to me & wants to help! Was even willing to have a meal with me sitting at a local park! Such a God send to me! That I have people in my life that want to be in my life, even when I need to turn to them when my world implodes & my anxiety takes over. They rallied for me. And every time I praise You for them Lord! Not one of them had to do so & I know this well! My few friends are Christian, care about me as a person, have treated me with kindness, love & support. Even though I know everyone is extremely busy with life, family & their own difficulties. They have each helped me to not feel like a burden, not feel like I'm unwanted, unlovable. But rather I have stumbled & perceived things.. well. You know Lord. And whomever is the Mate of my soul , You know that too. I no longer know .. I give it all to You Lord. Because whether my gut instincts are right, ...whatever the truth is.. whatever the future holds... You Lord know. And I believe that the one ...or whatever... that You Created beside me already knows I exist. I must do the work to earn that love. I want my soul mate to love me, but also respect me. Heck, even like me! Which I struggle with. It is the depth & core of my insecurities & anxiety. To be loved, & wanted, for me. But I need to learn to love, & truly like, myself. It really is a tragedy that childhood is fraught with.. feeling unsafe. But I know this. I am not crazy. I am a good woman. But You Lord needed me to learn this year. And to turn into Your arms. Your Love. Your True Love Waits on me. And You are jealous Lord. I know this! I must give my soul's lifelong loneliness for the mate I have felt.. to You. I must remember to come to You, to not deny You. To give You Alll my faithfulness, devotion, adoration, loyalty, fidelity & love. And when You are ready for my soul's Mate.../s whatever, sigh to come to me... well..then I guess I will truly feel Blessed beyond measure then. I just don't know anymore Lord. I only know this.. I feel my soul's mate presence surrounding. And I know I love that soul. No matter if I have known, or that is far onto the future.. I don't know anymore. But. I believe in magic. I believe in You Lord. And I believe in Your Love. And I believe in Mate.../s to my soul. Whomever.. wherever.. he.. sigh.. may be.
I don't know anymore! God help me... please??? I know that I love but what the heck!?!?!? Why Lord??? Why??? & yeah, You know I'm struggling with the whys! I only pray to know the truth. Someday? Please Lord??? God help me...please??? Sigh. Giving my trembling scared kat soul into Your care Lord. Cause You know Your Plans for my life! [Jeremiah 29.11,13] please give me the strength, wisdom, courage, & guidance to persevere for You Lord! That I be a good daughter & woman for You!
Because I believe.
~True love never dies & true love always waits.~
I will wait Forever.
I will never stop.
I will get my life right!
God, help me...please???
Your scared, humbled, listening carefully daughter,
~Tijgeress kat Phoenix.🌺
👩🤓☔⛅💡⚓🙏🙇‍♀️🌂🔗⛓🧰⚙⚒🛠⚔⚖🗽🐯🐾🐐🦉🐢🐛🦋🌱🌺🌹🌻🌷🌳🧶🧵 ⌚⚡💫🌠🔱⚜🗝💝♠️🧩♾🌎🎯🧭🕯🎶😴💤
W.9.28.2022 12.25am est. diary .42a
God, please, lessen Hurrican Ian & its devastating effects. And protect all the people along the gulf coast! In Your Name, Jesus! Amen.~t.🌀⚓🙏🙇‍♀️
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ian's great with babies. he instinctively knows how to hold and support them, how to keep them engaged and get them to smile, how to rock them just right, how to swaddle and feed and change them. he radiates calm and peacefulness, something that comes from him finay being settled securely within himself, which makes him excellent and calming down a crying baby or toddler. so he's always top pick babysitter for his siblings (and on one memorable occasion also his brother-in-law) because not only will ian almost never turn you down when you need help, he'll probably even enjoy spending his night covered in drool and baby food. most of all though he's just safe, always careful and calm, even when freddie has been crying for hours and tami is ready to leave the country and mickey contemplates if you can go to jail for putting a ball gag on a baby that won't shut up - ian's just pacing the living room, rocking him and gently humming soothingly until he finally calms down and falls asleep against his uncle's chest.
meanwhile mickey is awesome with kids, the older ones. he's a bit nervous around babies because they're just so damn fragile and he feels a bit awkward around them. but when they're older and self-sufficient enough that he isn't constantly afraid of breaking them you can sign him the fuck up. he loves how kids are always just trying to have fun, their pure unfiltered honesty, how they're direct, uncensored and raw in a way you only are when you're still too young to give a fuck about what others think. he adores franny in all her gender non-conforming glory, he spends hours playing video games with liam. and the kids love him back because he takes them seriously in a way most adults don't, he's fun and doesn't try and push stupid rules and expectations on them (the perks of being an uncle). But most of all he treats them with respect and just talks to them like they're tiny adults he happens to be friends with. He ends up recycling some of the games he remembers from his own childhood, just with less actual violence and without the deadly weapons. Turns out dodge the dagger is a lot more fun for everyone involved when the dagger is replaced with a balled up pair of socks or something.
they are both so family-oriented and have so much love for the people in their bubble. they're such dorks who don't mind chaos and getting their hands dirty. (more in the literal than the criminal sense these days thanks to ian) they have different styles when it comes to interacting with the little ones, of course they do but they're both hands down every kid's favourite uncles and that's not a freak coincidence. they're good with them.
and they are both going to learn from each other. ian's going to keep his hands on mickey's shoulders to ground him when he struggles with the way it feels to hold a baby again, after all these years. mickey's going to give ian a kiss and tell him "i've got it" when franny demands attention and entertainment at ten pm when ian's exhausted from a long day.
and they are going to see the person they love most in the world thrive and become an amazing parent one day and they're going to be a beautiful family because they already are.
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ghoul333 · 3 years
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serial lover
chapter one(?)
pairing: billy x f!reader
wc: 2.8k
summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.
warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)
a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3
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He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.
You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.
A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.
And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.
Only you weren't.
Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.
Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.
You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.
He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.
You were crying in the mirror.
Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.
He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.
Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.
You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.
You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.
Was that believable?  I think so.
A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.
Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.
You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.
He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.
You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.
If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.
Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.
You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.
You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.
You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.
Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.
Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.
He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?
He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.
There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.
He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.
You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.
"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.
Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.
He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.
It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?
You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.
Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.
Where did that adrenaline come from?
Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.
He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.
"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?
Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?
You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.
He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.
Fuck.
You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.
You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.
"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."
You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.
People like him deserved death.
You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.
You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.
"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."
His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.
He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.
You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.
I fucked up.
Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.
You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.
Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.
Breathing had never felt so good.
Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.
Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.
He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.
You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.
It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.
Oh shit...It can't be.
Was this, The Ghostface?
From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?
You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.
It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.
Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.
You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.
His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.
Tough shit.
You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.
You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.
You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.
"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.
Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.
“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.
You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.
You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.
His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.
“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.
A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.
“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.
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bowtiesandflutes · 3 years
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When They're Angry They...
First Doctor
...will make snappy comments to everyone (mostly Ian and Barbara)
Second Doctor
...are very silent, but when he talks his tone is more serious than usual. He will be plotting to find a way to defeat the threat that had caused his anger
Third Doctor
...will make a remark about the person who had angered him and you would try to hide your smirk
Fourth Doctor
...will yell at whoever caused his anger and if it was you who was on the receiving end he would find a way to make it up to you when he had calmed down
Fifth Doctor
...won't raise his voice but will glower at them as he plots a way to defeat the enemy. When it comes to the Master he tries to bargain with him for they were old friends
Sixth Doctor
...throw every insult he has at the person who caused his anger. After he's calmed down he will apologize to you, but when it comes to Peri, you need to urge him to apologize to her.
Seventh Doctor
...make it known they aren't someone to be messed with. Whether it's through threats or showcasing his knowledge he will show the person that his outfit was deceiving
Eighth Doctor
...won't show he's angry. He distracts himself by the stars and you would bring him tea, knowing he was trying to figure out a way to stop the Master who was the source of his anger
War Doctor
...hit the console. You would listen to him yell, release his frustrations, and knew that you would be helping with an hour's worth of repairs when he was finished.
Ninth Doctor
...will threaten who had made him angry which was caused by the enemy taking or hurting one of his companions. You knew how protective he was and you knew he would do everything he could to save them. But his anger would never lead to him killing ruthlessly, for he had seen enough death
Tenth Doctor
...will yell at whoever caused his anger. He was rarely angry unless he saw the mistreatment of others or someone had hurt you or his companions. You would take his hand, showing you would always have his back
Eleventh Doctor
... would angrily hit the Tardis console and he would know by the smile on your face you were there to calm him down. He wasn't ready to calm down so he would sit on the ropes beneath the glass floor and you followed him. He glanced at you when you wrapped your arms around his neck from behind, kissing his cheek. You knew his anger would cloud his judgment so you would shower him in affection to calm him down, quietly talking about what made him angry.
Twelfth Doctor
...overload with sarcastic comments. You weren't immune to his sarcasm but if he insulted someone else he would compliment you. With Missy on board, his anger was more common as she enjoyed riling him up. He would rant for ten minutes then dismiss everyone and you remained, sitting beside him on the stairs, his head on your shoulder.
Thirteenth Doctor
...would try and distract herself as she knew her anger wouldn't lead her to a solution, only a clear mind could.
Delgado!Master
...would rant about the incompetence of lesser species which to him was everything that wasn't a Timelord. You would jokingly act offended and he would point at you, telling you that you were an exception. You would smile and he would return it, feeling his anger diminishing.
Ainley!Master
...throw anything he could get his hands on. You would watch from the doorway as he turned the room upside down and when he finally stopped you would walk over to hug him, knowing your presence helped calm him down.
Roberts!Master
...turn his anger into passion and he would take his anger out on your body in the most pleasurable way
Jacobi!Master
...insult everything. You had received his sharp tongue many times so his anger didn't upset you. You watch as he paces the floor, ranting about anything that comes to mind and when he was done, you look up from your book, "Better?" He nodded and joined you on the sofa with a sigh.
Simm!Master
...much like his past incarnation, he would turn to sex but his anger lasted for days. If anyone made a mistake he would kill them for it no matter how small the mistake was. You would be by his side constantly, acting as his conscience.
Missy
...would make sarcastic comments and you would try to stop her from upsetting Clara or the Doctor. She would then turn her comments to you and you would walk away, telling her to find you when she calmed down. And she would apologize later.
Dhawan!Master
...would throw things around the room if you weren't inside it and if you entered the room he would stop and you would hug him, soothing his anger
Jamie McCrimmon
...doesn't show his anger unless someone had taken you or harmed you in some way. He would pace the room like a caged lion and the Doctor's reassurance wasn't enough to calm him down. He would break through anyone that stopped him from reaching you and only when he held you in his arms again did he calm down.
Alistair Lethbridge-Stewart
...would complain about the Doctor. Now his Tardis was working he was disappearing a lot more often and you would sometimes join him. He would be in his office when you return and you held up a gift you had brought him and he would hide his smile until you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. It wasn't anger really, but he was concerned about your safety.
Mike Yates
...would hide his anger until he got home. You would know by the way he didn't greet you when he walked in and you would take his jacket and make him tea knowing he needed to relax in the peace and quiet before he could tell you what happened.
Alydon
...hit whoever caused his anger. He was rarely angry and was a pacifist by nature but the threat of the Daleks wasn't one that could be solved peacefully as proved by Temmosus's death. Ian had noticed like many others that Alydon was interested in you. When you joined the Thralls you recognized him as your leader so when Ian threatened to take you to the Daleks, you didn't use your training to hurt him. You could see in his eyes what he was trying to do, yet he was a stranger to you so a part of you was wary of his intentions. Alydon met your gaze when you looked at him over your shoulder. You had told him that a war was necessary but he never wanted to start another war. But Ian knew that he would if it came to you. He turned Ian around and punched his jaw. That's when he knew there was something worth fighting for, in that moment of anger.
Rory Williams
...will yell until he didn't want to anymore, then storm out of the room. You would follow him until he talked it over with you and he always caved.
Ian Chesterton
He usually bickers with the Doctor and you lead him away before they can say anything worse, and he sighs, sitting on the edge of the bed when you arrive in your bedroom.
You sit behind him, resting your chin on his shoulder, muttering "I know," whenever he rants about the Doctor, his hands gesturing wildly. After twenty minutes he calms down and you stay there for a little while longer, your arms around his neck, his hands on your arms.
131 notes · View notes
strawberryspence · 3 years
Text
when death knocks on your door
Angst/Fluff [18+] | Spencer Reid x FEM! BAU! Reader
Summary: Some trauma tears people apart, while some brings people together. SSA Doctor Spencer Reid and SSA Doctor Y/N Y/L/N is brought together by the death of SSA Emily Prentiss.
Word Count: 3,13k 
Warnings: based on the Ian Doyle/Emily Prentiss character arc so some spoilers for s6-s7. talks about death (a lot of it), mention of drug use, allusions to depression, attempted suicide (nothing graphic), mention of cancer & car crash, a few curse words, description of smut, its very vague (one part only), mentions of therapy, HAPPY ENDING (i am not a monster)
Writer's Note: Hello! A bit of a heavier topic on today's fic! I picked apart the whole Emily arc and this is written basically in the reader's perspective. I love writing angst but I can never end it with sad endings. So I hope you enjoy this, I am very proud of how it turned out! 💛
GIF is made by yours truly. Its surprisingly hard to find "purple shirt + sweater vest spencer reid" gifs.
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Death.
Death.
Death comes in different shapes and forms.
For Spencer, he has seen it up close with Haley and Hotch, but never with someone in his family or close group of friends. He sees death in the form of abandonment, in ways when people leave him and a part of him goes with them.
For you, you were familiar with death. Death looms over you. You’re father dying when you were younger and then you’re mother in your teens. 
Death comes when your father was killed in a car accident involving a drunk driver. It was fast, in a blink, death sweeps him and takes him. All her father’s life and dreams gone in a second, with a crash.
Death comes when your mother was diagnosed with cancer. Cancer, the fucking bitch, takes her time. It was slow, like it was enjoying the pain. It takes and it takes till its taken everything and the last thing it has taken is your mother.
And death comes when it takes Emily Prentiss. This was your best friend, partner in crime and roommate. Her death wasn’t fast, it wasn’t slow, its painstakingly in the middle while you try to get her blood off your hands while sobbing in the SUV as Derek drives way past the legal speed to get to the hospital.
In her death, you find yourself being swallowed by something that you were not. Something bigger, something you can’t describe. The team sees this weeks after she has been buried. You were the same person, and you were a different person, all at once.
One night, when death was about to knock on your door as you hold a knife to your wrist, ready to meet Death, ready to tell him off, it is then when chance knocks on your apartment door.
Spencer is at your door, a sobbing mess with three bottles of dilaudid clenched in his hands. He stumbles in your new apartment avoiding the piles of boxes unopened. You just moved, not being able to sleep in the apartment you and Emily shared.
“I am sorry. I-I am sorry, Y/N. I didn’t know where to go. JJ was... busy and I am so close... so close.” Your heart softens at how desperate he looks, Spencer doesn’t know how strong he is to you, being able to ask for help when you were just about to end it all.
You take the bottles from him, setting it on the counter as you guide him to your couch. He clings to you as you both sit on the couch, crying and sobbing.
“Death is among us. Avoiding him is what makes us stronger." You whisper to him and he cries harder.
Something is so bitterly comforting when someone shares the same pain you are suffering. It hurts, but in a funny way, it hurts less when some shares it with you.
So you cling to Spencer as he does to you and you let it all go. You cry as much as he does as he holds you and as you hold him.
You both wake up the next day, with a full 8 hours of sleep, something you both have not had in weeks.
“Thank you.” Spencer whispers and you smile, stroking his hair, “Thank you.” You say it back at him.
You were sure that Emily is laughing at her grave. I had to die for you to finally make a move on your crush. You shake her voice off your head. Now is not the time for silly crushes.
It becomes a routine, finding comfort and safety in each others presence, Spencer almost lives in your apartment. His toothbrush sits on the cup besides yours in the bathroom counter, his clothes takes up half of your closet, his books scattered on the shelfs and his cups on the kitchen counter.
You tell yourself its platonic. Spencer tells himself its platonic. The team doesn’t say anything, only thankful that you were reverting back to your old self and Spencer is getting better.
You want more. It was hard to admit to yourself. But you wanted more with Spencer. Your little crush now growing into something bigger than yourself. You wanted futures full of him and what you have right now is not right. Shared trauma is not love.
Three months into the set up of him basically living in your apartment, you suggest therapy for both of you. You are a Doctor of Psychology and you know the percussions of what you’re doing.
Spencer is shocked but he understands. This was your territory, Spencer knows that this was the right thing to do so he agrees. You lay out all the options to Spencer, all the therapy and how both of you should change your routines more often.
It works. He stops sleeping on your bed every night (he still comes tho, just on the harder nights where he needs to hold you to remind himself that death has yet to take you).
You have breakfast together every morning, using it to comfort each other rather than sleeping together every night. It works.
The therapy helps you both as you both move on from Emily’s death. That is until seven months later.
-
Declan was missing. You’ve let the Emily case go but Derek has not, you know this and you let him. Every time you want to do something to help Derek catch Doyle, your doctorate that hangs above your couch stares back at you, like it was taunting you. You studied this, moving on was the better choice and you know it. No amount of killing Doyle would bring back Emily, no amount of it would make you feel better.
That is until Hotch gathers the team on the conference room.
“Everybody have a seat.” Hotch instructs. You all look at each other. Spencer looks at you as if asking if you knew what’s up but you only shake your head.
“Why?” Morgan asks, looking around.
“Seven months ago, I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle. But the doctors were able to stabilize her—“
“What?” You squeak out. Hotch holds his hands up, asking you to hear him out first.
“She was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know and she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.”
Spencer can see how your face pales. He reaches for your hand under the table and gives it a tight squeeze. You return the squeeze, finding comfort in his touch.
“She’s alive?” Penelope asks, tears now forming in her eyes.
“But... we buried her.” Spencer says, like its a fact. Like its the solid truth. Your hand clamps down harder on his.
“As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone had any issues, they should be directed to me.” Hotch says and all you can do is look at him, not able to believe anything he is saying.
“Any issues? Yeah, I got issues!” Derek’s loud voice now looming over the room.
“Oh my god.” Penelope squeaks making the whole room turn around. You turn around and you see Emily walking to the room. Your hold unto Spencer tightens, as if checking if he is real, you want any sign that this is not a dream, that this is real.
“I am so sorry. I really am. Not a day went by that I didn’t want to...” Emily explains.
Death comes and it takes, and it takes, and it takes but never has Death give someone back to you.
Emily was standing in front of you. The woman whose blood stained your hands for days, the woman you buried, the woman who’s grave you cried on for god knows how long that Derek had to physically carry you away from her grave and here she was breathing and hugging the team.
She comes in front of you and you still haven’t let go of Spencer’s hand.
“Y/N?” She says, it comes as a whisper. A whisper, coming from the ghost that has been haunting you for months. She opens her arms for a hug and you let go of Spencer to hug her.
She was real, she was solid and she’s hugging you back. So why, in the mountain of emotions you are feeling, why is happiness in the bottom of the pit? Why is anger the one screaming in your heart?
You pull away, and she hugs Spencer but as soon as she lets go, Spencer captures your hands again. Emily sees this and smiles, but doesn’t say anything.
“There’s so much I want to tell you guys, and I will. I promise. But right now I really need to know what’s going on with Declan.” The team continued to discuss Declan and Spencer holds unto your hand like its his life line. You only break apart when the team has to work again.
He gives you one look as he separates away from you, “I got you.” He says, kissing your temple before leaving to go to the interrogation room.
That was enough to calm you down.
-
The team gets Declan back safely and after all the trials, you finally had a moment to breathe.
“Hey, you doing good?” Spencer asks. You nod. He looks good, he looks like home in a purple shirt and sweater vest.
“Do you want to go home?” He asks you. You want to shout but you’re my home! You nod and he takes your scarf from your desk and wraps it around you.
“Let’s go?” You smile at him as he wraps it around you. It felt so domestic, so familiar.
You walk together to the elevator, leaving the BAU and all the piles of emotions that you’ve been through this past few days. As you both stand in the silver tin box, you see your reflection with him standing beside you, his arm around your waist and your head on his shoulder.
You wanted to scream how much you love him. But the voice in your head screams back, he doesn’t love you! It’s shared trauma! You shake your head and Spencer sees this.
“You okay? How are you feeling?” You smile up at him, as he looks at you with all the worries that a person can hold for another one.
“Yes, I am good, Spence. How about you?” He smiles and kisses the top of your head. “I am good. I just need time to process some of the things that has happened.”
Spencer drives you both home. Spencer doesn’t take the word hate lightly but Spencer hates driving. He still drives tho, for you. Holding your hand while he drives with the other, while you were staring out of the window, just watching the places blur by.
Death waits on your door and when the right time comes, it will knock. When it does, you can’t turn it away or send it away. When it knocks, it sweeps you off your feet, leaving no time for goodbyes or regrets. Ironically, Spencer walks you to your door, opening it for you and even taking your scarf off for you.
Your heart almost grows twice its size and you can feel yourself bursting in its seams. You find yourself closing the door, as if trying to block Death away from him. He smiles at you and something bursts inside of you.
“I love you, Spence.”
He drops your keys on the bowl on your hallway and he smiles, teasingly. “I love you, too, Dr. Y/L/N.” You smile but you shake your head.
“No Spence, I love you. With my whole heart... I mean, of what’s left of it. W-we need to stop, if this is only a shared trauma for you. I can’t be that... because... I love you and I want futures with you. Any kind of it, as long as you are there, every morning with a cup of hot coffee for me. If that’s not possible, we need to stop. Because my heart...” You hold unto the edge of the table for strength.
“My heart... is not strong enough to lose you and love you at the same time.” Spencer stares at you, confused with a certain spark in his eyes.
“W-why are you saying this now?”
“Because death is at everyone’s door. Emily is lucky. But what if it takes me tonight, or tomorrow? I don’t want to die without telling you that I love you.” You say, bracing yourself for the impact of the rejection.
Spencer walks to you, holding your waist to steady you.
“I love you, more than anything in this world. I have love you even before Emily died. This isn’t shared trauma, it’s been love way before that. If it's anything, it made my love for you grow deeper. You... helped me heal. You pushed me to go to therapy. You made me stronger, Y/N.” Spencer holds your face and brings you into his arms and you clung unto him as he hugs you.
“I love you... I love you so much.” You whisper to him and he hugs you as close as humanly possible.
Spencer lets go of you but cups your face to lift it closer to his face. Spencer kisses you like it was the last time you can ever kiss him. It felt like a fever dream you once had. The fire of the kiss fills in the cracks in your heart, slowly but surely healing it all at once.
Life, the direct opposite of death, has always been hard to describe. Death was easy to describe for you but Life? it was a struggle. But with Spencer kissing you, as he holds your hand and your face, so tenderly like you were going to break, you finally realize what life is supposed to be. It felt good being alive, it felt good to be breathing.
You and Spencer sleep together for the first time that night. It is in one word, unbelievable. It was as if the universe has planned it all along to teach you what it felt to be alive, as he pushes himself inside you, whispering nothing but sweet praises and promises of futures together in your ear. You wake up, hours after making love, tangled with him and the bed sheets, with you in his arms.
“I love you.” You whisper to him, brushing through his hair as he sighs to your touch, snuggling more to the crook of your neck.
-
The morning comes in a breathe. Easy and fast. You wake up earlier than Spencer, untangling yourself from him to make him his daily morning coffee.
A knock comes and it almost makes you drop his mug. Looking up at the clock, it was only 7 in the morning. The thought disappears as another knock comes. You open the door and today life offers you Emily Prentiss.
“Hey, good morning.” She says with a smile, you give it back, still not used to seeing her, alive.
“Hey.” You smile looking at her as you let her enter.
“Pen said you had my boxes.” She looks around on the apartment. “Its not here. Its on the garage downstairs. Do you want it right now?” She nods. “Oh. Uhm, the team actually helped me move it there, its a little heavy...”
“Okay... I’ll get the team to help me later.” You nod but don’t say anything and the silence is so loud, it’s deafening.
“Can we talk?” Emily asks, in a gentle voice. Almost like she’s talking to a toddler. You shake your head. “We can, but not today... I need to process some things first and I need help with it. We can talk this weekend, after my therapy.”
“Therapy?” She repeats. You nod. “Therapy.” She bites down her lips, you know Emily enough to know that she feels bad about it.
“I know it’s not your fault, Em. I understand, but I just... need time. I... buried you. I cried on your grave and for months, I had to accept the fact that you were... dead.” Emily nods, opens her arms for a hug and you gladly accept it.
“I’ll give you as much time as you need. You are my bestfriend and I love you.” You nod and hug her tightly, reminding yourself that she was alive, and that was what’s important.
The hug was cut short when Spencer comes out of your bedroom half naked.
“Spencer?!” Emily almost screams as she pulls away from the hug.
“O-oh... I-I didn’t know you were here...” He says as he slowly backs up the door and picks up a shirt to wear.
“When did this happened!?” Emily is definitely losing her mind now.
“Uh... Last night?” You said, not exactly sure as to when it started. Emily’s mouth drops in surprise and Spencer can only smile at her offering her a cup. “Coffee?” Spencer says with a smile and a shrug that makes both you and Emily laugh.
Emily doesn’t stay long after that, opting to leave the two of you to spend some time together. Spencer and you end up in the couch, huddled together in a huge blanket you both knitted together with cups of coffee in hands.
“So... Are you officially moving in with me?” Spencer looks down at you. The steam of the coffee colouring your cheeks a bright pink colour.
“Do you want me to?” He asks, smiling at you. Spencer loves you, in ways he didn’t know he possibly can and he’d give you anything you want. You could ask for the stars and Spencer would build a rocket just to get a few to give to you (even if he knows it was impossible because, well, stars are made of gas.)
“I want you everywhere. You... are my home.” You say softly, as your hands caress his cheeks.
“Then, I am moving here, love.” He says as he kisses your forehead and you lean unto him as you wrap the blanket tighter around each other.
“I love you.” He says as you lay your head on his chest and he brings you closer to him. You smile and whisper it back. “I love you more.”
Most people say that time heals pain. It, truthfully, does not. Love does, love in the corniest way possible, mends your soul in ways that are not physically possible.
When Death knocks on your door it will be in different shapes and forms, but so will love and for you, love came in the shape and form of Spencer Reid.
-
330 notes · View notes
arrowflier · 2 years
Note
Thank you for brightening my day with your stories. I always look forward to checking out your blog. Here's a prompt for you: S10 and 11, but Fiona is there and never left Chicago. How does the story change? Does she calm things down or cause more chaos? How does she get along with newer characters Tami (who she only knew a little) and Sandy? How does she react to Frank's dementia and death? Does she use her landlord skills and make Lip sign a damn lease before renting on a handshake deal?!
There's so much potential with this, but I just picked a few short scenes from season 11 to try and get a vibe!
--
“He can’t just kick you guys out,” Fiona insisted, following Lip through the house. He skirted the edge of the sofa on his way to the kitchen, and she almost ran into it. Only years of muscle memory and navigating her home in the dark—unpaid electric bills, drunken stupors, trying not to wake up the kids—kept her from banging her hip against the arm.
“He can,” Lip argued, passing through to the next room, “and he did.” He opened the fridge, looked at the beer cans inside. Closed it again, and got a glass of water from the tap instead.
“Sold it right out from under us,” he said bitterly into the glass. “New owners want us out before they close.
Fiona watched him take a sip, make a face and swallow it. Then she slapped the back of his head, hard, and grabbed the water before he could drop it.
“Listen to me,” she ordered as he scowled, rubbing the injury. She leaned down to get on the same level, face to disgruntled face. “I was a landlord, remember?”
“Not a very good one,” Lip muttered, and flinched back when she raised her hand again. She lowered it when he put his own up in surrender.
“I was a landlord,” she repeated, then paused, lips twisting. “And one of the reasons I’m not anymore is cause of a family of squatters I couldn’t get rid of.”
“And?” Lip asked, eyebrows raised. “The fuck’s that got to do with anything?”
Fiona rolled her eyes.
“Thought you were supposed to be the smart one,” she said dryly, then, “If it was that easy to kick somebody out, don’t you think I would’ve done it?”
Lip frowned.
“I mean, sure,” he said slowly, working through the thought. “But we don’t even have a lease.”
“Neither did they, that’s for damn sure,” Fiona grumbled. She turned to lean back against the counter next to him, shoulder to broad shoulder. Both had held enough wait for a lifetime.
“Doesn’t matter,” she told him. “That you don’t have a lease, I mean.”
She turned her head, looked at him.
“The eviction process isn’t as quick as people think.”
Lip’s brow furrowed as he glanced up at her.
“Are you…” Lip trailed off, started again. “Are you telling me to make him take us to court?”
Fiona smiled.
I’m telling you you might as well fight for it,” she said. “You’re broke anyway; what have you got to lose?”
---
“Can you believe her?” Debbie spit out, slamming the cabinet door shut. She stood, holding a box of cake mix, and set it down so hard on the counter that Fiona’s drink almost tipped over.
“Believe what?” Fiona asked, scooting back just in case. “That she left?”
Debbie glared.
“No, not that,” she said. “I told her to leave, remember?”
“What then?” Fiona took a sip of her beer, leaning forward to rest her elbows on the counter once she deemed it safe again.
“That she just abandoned her kid,” Debbie said. “Left him all alone, no mother, no nothing, just so she could go live a little.”
Oh. Fiona frowned.
“Debs…” she stared, swirling the dregs of beer left in the bottom of the bottle. She looked back up at her sister, down again to shield herself from the heat Debbie let off.
“I don’t think that’s what happened.”
“How can you say that?” Debbie asked, loud, angry. “You of all people know what it’s like to be…to be abandoned!”
Debbie bent down to grab a heavy metal bowl, slammed that down, too. The sound echoed, ringing through the quiet room. By the time it faded, she had too.
“It’s not the same, is it?” Debbie asked quietly, and Fiona shook her head.
“No,” she answered, just as soft. “No, it’s not.”
“Guess I should talk to her,” Debbie whispered, flat. Defeated.
“Probably,” Fiona agreed, then stood.
“Spend some time with Franny, first,” she suggested on her way toward the stairs, looking back in time to meet Debbie’s eyes as she lifted them.
“You’ve done a good job with her, you know,” Fiona said, and smiled. “I’m really proud of you”
And then she walked up the steps, and left Debbie to her thoughts.
---
“What—Mickey?” Fiona asked, passing her brother’s husband in the doorway. He was scowling, shoulders squared, stomping through the door and outside.
“You’re brother’s an asshole,” he answered shortly, and then he was gone.
Fiona watched him go. Then she went straight through the house, and out the back door, to where she knew Ian waited.
Sure enough, the door opened onto his stiff back, and she slipped out without a word. Sat down next to him, there on the stairs, and stole the cigarette from his hand.
“Thought you were trying to be healthier,” she asked, taking a long drag.
He reached for it, and she passed it back, their fingers brushing.
“Yeah, well,” he said, just staring at the glowing end of the stick. “Not much point in that if I can’t even afford to pay the bills next month.”
That again. Fiona sighed.
“We’ll be okay, you know,” she tried, but Ian waved her off before she could finish.
“We’d be better if he’d get a damn job.”
Fiona nodded.
“Sure,” she said, “we might be.” The filter of the cigarette was burning low, close to Ian’s fingers, so she took it again and threw it under her shoe.
“But are you willing to give everything up on a maybe?”
Ian looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
She shrugged, leaned into him. He was as tall as her, now, and her head slotted perfectly onto his shoulder.
“You’ve got the closest thing to happiness any of us have ever seen,” she said, looking out over the yard. She picked absently at the step she sat on, prying up thin splinters and smoothing them back down again.
“Maybe you should just let yourself have it, for a while.”
Ian was silent. But he reached an arm up around her back, let her in closer. Rested his chin on her head.
“You think so?” he finally asked, so quiet she barely heard it.
She rested a hand on his knee, squeezed it. Breathed out.
“I really do.”
---
“Oh my god, Liam, where have you been?”
Fiona was on him the moment he got through the door, long arms scooping him into a hug so tight she grunted with the effort.
“I was so worried,” she said, pulling back, hands gently but firm as they found his face. “You can’t just disappear like that, Liam, I sent everyone out to look for you hours ago!”
“You noticed?” Liam asked, his young face scrunched, and Fiona shook him, then folded him back into her arms.
“Of course I noticed, you little asshole,” she muttered into his hair, pressing her cheek against springy strands. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Liam shrugged, his shoulders barely moving in her tight embrace.
“Everybody is so busy,” he said. “Trying to figure stuff out.”
“So?” Fiona asked, still holding him, hands smoothing down the back of his hand-me-down shirt. “Why does that mean you get to wander off without telling me?”
“Gotta figure out my stuff too, don’t I?” he answered, quiet, sad, and Fiona let go of him to crouch down. She looked him in the eyes, brushing a hand over his soft hair, and forced him to meet her gaze.
“You’re a kid,” she said firmly. “What do you need to figure out that you can’t come to me for?”
“Where to live, for one,” Liam said, looking away, and Fiona frowned.
“What do you mean?” she asked. “You’ll come live with me.”
His eyes widened, and she hesitated.
“Do you…” She paused, swallowed. “Do you not want that?”
Liam just blinked. Then smiled, bright and relieved, and buried his head down on her shoulder in all the answer she needed.
---
“Hey, You okay?” Fiona asked, coming up behind Carl where he stood staring at Frank’s ashes on the mantel. She put a hand up on his shoulder, rubbed once, twice.
“Course I am,” Carl answered, all swagger and false confidence. “Frank was an asshole.”
Fiona hummed.
“He was,” she agreed. “But he was our asshole. And I know you two used to be close.”
“Nobody was close to Frank,” Carl muttered bitterly. “They just thought they were.”
A beat passed, tense, quiet. Then Carl’s shoulders sagged.
“Not like he was the same Frank anymore, anyway,” he said softly.
Fiona stepped closer, a warm presence at his side.
“Does that make it easier?” she asked. “Or harder?”
Carl shrugged.
“Neither, I don’t think,” he answered, then his face scrunched, the way it used to when his brothers made him think to hard. “Just feel like it’s wrong to still be mad at him, you know? He didn’t even remember all the shit he did, at the end.”
Fiona looked at him, and smiled sadly.
“That’s okay,” she said simply. “I’m still mad, too.”
After another moment, she leaned in, kissed the side of his head.
“Time to get to work though,” she said, “we can be as maudlin as you like when you get back.”
“What’s that mean?” Carl asked, following her into the kitchen, and she laughed as she dug his packed lunch out from the back of the fridge.
“I’ll tell you later,” she said, “but right now, work mister!”
Carl accepted the answer, and his lunch. Then, as Fiona grabbed her keys off the counter, the ones to her new SUV, he said, “I’m thinking of quitting, you know.”
Fiona didn’t hesitate, shoving him toward the door.
“That’s fine,” she said, slamming it shut behind them. “But until them, no brother of mine is going to be late!”
71 notes · View notes
sequinsmile-x · 2 years
Text
Concussion
Emily gets hit over the head. Aaron worries.
Based on a prompt from the lovely @ssa-sparks
Words: 2.3k
Warnings: Mentions of minor injuries/blood/stitches etc
Read over on Ao3 or below the cut!
It happens so fast.
Emily and JJ go in first at Aaron’s request, aware that there were children on the scene and their presence would startle them less. They clear the first floor of the house, JJ directing the two young boys they find in the living room out of the front door. Emily opens the door to the basement, clearing the way as she walks down the stairs.
As soon as her feet hit the bottom step she is hit in the head, hard, and falls to the ground. She cries out as her vision and hearing briefly go, the pain spreading throughout her skull immediately. She isn’t sure exactly what happens, she can hear the muffled sound of JJ yelling, and the others rushing in. The unsub apprehended by Derek almost immediately, the 2x4 he had used to hit her abandoned on the ground next to her.
Emily closes her eyes to block out the light that suddenly seemed too intense. She smells his cologne before she sees him. Something warm and uniquely Aaron filling her senses. Something that smelt like home. When she reopens her eyes Aaron is there, leaning over her, concern written all over his face.
“Em? Are you hurt? What happened?” He asks, grimacing when he looks at her properly.
“He got the drop on me.” Emily says as she sits up, her eyes briefly going blurry again. Aaron reaches out for her, his hands on her upper arms as he tries to steady her. She puts her hand to her forehead and pulls it back to see blood on her fingers. “Damn it.”
“What do you remember?” He asks, not bothering to cover his concern as he helps her sit up.
“Aaron, calm down. I didn’t even pass out.” She blinks a couple times, wincing as she again puts her hand to her head where she was hit. She shrugs his hands off of her, looking around the room at the local cops surrounding them, annoyed that despite the head injury she was the one who seemed to remember where they were. “I’m fine.”
He ignores her, his worry outweighing his usual ability on picking up on her frustration.
“Do you know where we are? What year is it? Who am I?” He asks in quick succession, dutifully helping her to her feet as she tries to do it herself, not making any comment when she grasps his bicep when she loses her balance.
“If you don’t stop, you won’t be my boyfriend for much longer, that much I can tell you.”
He ignores her again, used to being the one she would take out her frustration on, very rarely rising to the bait.
“The EMTs are outside, we’ll get them to have a look at you.” He says, following her up the stairs to make sure she doesn’t fall.
“Aaron.”
“Please don’t argue with me on this.” He pleads as they make it to the first floor, his eyes imploring her to just listen to him.
She gently nods her response and walks outside. She’s aware of his hand hovering just behind her lower back, ever ready to support her if she needed it, even if she didn’t want him to. ____________
“Why is it always you that ends up with a head injury?” Aaron asks quietly, his voice gentle as if he is avoiding making her inevitable headache worse.
She was sat up on a gurney, the EMTs having decided she needed to go to hospital to get checked over properly. Aaron was sitting on the edge facing her. Emily winces as he presses the ice pack the nurse had handed him against the gash on her forehead, the cold seeping in and making her head pound. They were waiting for the doctor to see if she needed stitches. The rest of the team were packing up at the precinct, waiting to meet them at the jet, leaving the couple to it.
It was well known that Emily wasn’t a good patient, neither of them were. In the few times one of them, or on one very stressful occasion for Dave both of them, were in need of a hospital check up since they got together they were only placated by each other. Raised eyebrows and vague threats enough to make them listen to the doctors as they were poked and prodded to make sure none of their injuries were permanent.
“I don’t always end up with head injuries, Aaron.” She says through her teeth. Her annoyance at him is lost in translation, the blood that still stained her face and had dripped down onto her chest removing some of its bite.
“Well you get more than the rest of us.” He briefly lifts the ice pack to look at the wound, his breath hitching when he sees it again. A mar on her pale skin, one of his favourite places to kiss her. He tenderly moves some of her hair out of the way, tucking it behind her ear with such affection she can’t help but smile at him despite her frustration. He puts the ice pack back down on her skin. “It’s like you’re attracted to 2x4s or something.”
“Shut the fuc-”
“Agent Prentiss?”
They both turn to see a doctor standing at the end of the cubicle they were in, an amused look on her face that told them just how much of their exchange she had overheard.
“Let's have a look at this head wound, shall we?”
Aaron moves the ice pack and stands up to give the doctor some room, but stays next to the gurney.
“Oh yeah, definitely stitches.” The doctor says, her gloved fingers pressing gently at Emily’s forehead.
“Seriously?” Emily says, staring at the doctor as she nods. “блять.”
The doctor looks concerned and turns to Aaron, her eyebrow raised.
“That’s normal.” He explains, a small smile on his face. “She always curses in Russian when she’s annoyed. Usually it’s aimed at me.”
“It's the best language to curse in.” Emily explains to the doctor before turning to glare at her boyfriend.
They patiently wait as the doctor sets up the stuff she needs to stitch Emily’s forehead. Aaron grabs her hand when he sees the needle the doctor moves towards her face as she explains it’s a local anaesthetic that will numb some of the pain. Emily raises her eyebrow at him, and mutters something under her breath about how she isn’t a child.
Neither of them acknowledge how tightly she squeezes his hand once the doctor begins. He leans down to press a kiss to the top of Emily’s head and smiles against her hair when she further tightens her grip on him. ____________
Emily was so relieved to get home she could have cried. The noise of the jet had made her head throb harder as the flight went on, the hours dragging on into what felt like days. Aaron had encouraged her to sleep on the journey but she refused, wanting to ensure her paperwork was finished before they landed. The promise of having the following day off getting her through the headache that was made worse by Derek and Spencer’s latest prank war.
She had caught Aaron glaring at them, an admonishment on the tip of his tongue but she had nudged him under the table with her knee before he could, a soft smile on her face as she looked at him adoringly.
Even when he pissed her off she loved him. And that pissed her off even more.
She hated being coddled, and even after all of this time with Aaron she still sometimes found his affection surprising. How easily he’d give it away to her, like it cost him nothing. How he’d buy her candy on the way home just because he walked past the aisle and thought of her. He’d touch her at any given opportunity. A hand brushing over her shoulder or her waist, pressed into her lower back as he guides her through a door. A kiss to her forehead, her cheek.
Ever since the EMT had told them she needed to go to the hospital he had been treating her like she was made of glass and she hated it, hated that he looked so guilty as the doctor had stitched her forehead back together. She knows he needs this, to look after her. Penance for what he deemed to be his fault since it was his decision to send her into the house first. So she lets him hover, with minimal barbs thrown at him so he knows when he is toeing the line between what she deems acceptable and what is too far.
She merely rolls her eyes at him, ignoring how it made her head burn with pain, when he insists on carrying her go-bag for her, but she stops him at opening her car door as he pulls their car up on their driveway. She’s out of the car before he can think about it, an eyebrow raised at him in defiance when he starts to protest.
As soon as the front door closes behind them he sets the alarm and throws their go-bags over the back of the couch. Emily takes off her shoes and coat, closing her eyes as her head swims when she bends forward to put the shoes away. When she’s upright again she knows he’s seen it, his eyes fixed on her.
“Why don’t you head on up sweetheart. I’ll be right up.” He says as he kisses her temple.
“Okay.” Emily replies, not having it in her to argue. “I’ll see you in a minute.”
Her nighttime routine goes by in a blur, and if questioned she wasn’t even sure if she would remember completing all of the steps. She turns off the main light, leaving only Aaron’s bedside light on, and climbs in under the covers.
When Aaron enters the room she is almost asleep, shocked awake by the room flooding with light. She groans, pulling the comforter over her head to block out what she can.
“Too bright.” She grumbles, her voice muffled.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” He turns the light back off and sheds his suit, his jacket over the back of a chair in a corner.
He gets ready for bed and climbs in next to her, a smile on his face as he gently pulls the covers back from her face. He gently runs his thumb over the edge of the large white dressing on her forehead, the spares tucked in his go-bag with instructions from the doctor on when to change it written on his phone.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, his voice barely a whisper.
“Head hurts.” She admits, feeling able to do so now it was just the two of them in the safety of their bedroom, with no prying eyes or concerned glances from the team. Even though so much time had passed since Ian Doyle had torn through their lives, there was always a moment when she was hurt that she would see the panic on her friend’s faces. See them go back to the time they were all told she was dead. It made her want to protect them, claiming she was fine even though her head felt like it had been stamped on.
Aaron was different. There was so much naked honesty in their relationship, so much that could be said without either of them saying a word, that she knew he already knew how she was feeling at any given time.
At one point in her life she would have found it suffocating, the fact that someone could know her that well. When they started their relationship she kept waiting for it to happen, for him to be so good, so righteous, that it would tip her over the edge. Make her self-destruct and take him down with her. But it never came. Now she can’t imagine life without him.
“I know it does, baby.” He answers before kissing her forehead, his lips grazing the edge of the dressing. “Get some sleep.”
“Are you going to let me sleep?” She asks, voice thick with exhaustion as she curls into his side.
“I’m going to follow the doctor's instructions and wake you up every couple hours if that’s what you’re asking.”
“иди на хуй.”
He chuckles into the top of her head. “I’m going to choose to believe that's you saying you love me.”
“Whatever makes you feel better, honey.” ____________
“Em, sweetheart. You’ve got to wake up.” He shakes her slightly and can’t help the relief he feels when she groans.
“What time is it?”
“3am.”
“I hate you so much.” She grumbles before she pulls his arm tighter across her waist, wrapping herself up tighter in his embrace. She moves with a speed that surprises herself and reaches behind her to press her hand over his mouth. “If you even think about asking me what year it is and if I know who you are, I’ll make you sleep in the garden. Concussion or no concussion.”
He smiles against the palm of her hand and kisses it before removing it from his mouth.
“Straight to the garden?”
“The spare room or the couch are for good boyfriends who let me sleep through the night.”
He kisses her temple. “I just want to make sure you’re ok.”
“I know.” She says, already drifting back off to sleep. “And I love you. But let's go back to sleep.”
“I love you too.” He kisses her temple again. “See you in a couple hours.”
He smiles at, and ignores, the Russian curse words she mutters under her breath and strokes her hair until she falls asleep again.
He doesn’t sleep that night, keeping an eye on her until the sun rises.
When he falls asleep on the couch the following afternoon she purposely wakes him by turning the tv volume all the way up, disregarding the pounding in her own head.
69 notes · View notes
mickey-millagher · 3 years
Text
Mickey stepped out onto the Gallagher front porch, his current search for his husband had been so far been fruitless but the ladder leaned up against the porch roof was starting to shed some light on his whereabouts.
Making his way down the front steps and looking up, Mickey was greeted by the shock of red hair belonging to the one and only Ian Gallagher.
“Ian the fuck are you doing up there?”
Ian looked down, seemingly unsurprised by Mickey’s presence, which really in itself wasn’t shocking, the two of them had hardly spent any time apart since they got married.
“Liam and Franny’s frisbee got stuck up here, said I’d get it back for them.”
Mickey rolled his eyes at his do-gooder husband. “Ain’t you meant to have someone holding those things?”
“Worried about my safety Mick?” Ian grinned down at him.
Mickey was about to reply that no, he absolutely was not, and fuck you for thinking so, when a gunshot rang out from around the corner. Ian with his soft centre that no years of hardship seemed to ever quite have stamped out of him, jumped at the noise, the motion causing him to lose his footing and go falling to the ground, ladder right after him.
“Fuck, Ian.” Mickey yelled, rushing to the younger mans side, pushing the ladder off of him where it had landed on his face, a cut to start swelling up in its wake.
“Hey, hey you okay?”
No response.
“Fuck.”
Mickey, quickly checked for breathing, letting out a sign of relief when he felt his husbands steady breath still coming through. Pulling Ian’s head onto his lap he then got out his phone to call for an ambulance.
“911, what’s your emergency?”
“I need an ambulance, my husband hit his head and he’s not waking up.”
“Okay sir, can you tell me your location?”
“Err shit um.” He quickly looked up at the house number. “2119 South Wallace.”
“Okay an ambulance is coming. I need you to answer a few questions for me. Is your husband still breathing?”
“Yeah, he’s breathing fine.”
“Good, that’s a really good sign. And his pulse?”
“Fuck, I don’t know, he’s the one who knows all the medical shit.”
“Take his wrist and place your thumb on the outside corner.” The voice guided him through.
Mickey placed the phone on the grass to follow the woman’s instructions. Clumsily attempting to pinpoint Ian’s pulse, a nurse of sheer panic flew through him when he couldn’t immediately find it, his breath coming out in quick, jagged pants when he did locate Ian’s, thankfully, steady pulse.
“Yeah, his pulse is good.” Mickey breathed down the phone.
“Okay, these are all good signs. The ambulance should be with you soon but your husband should be okay in the mean time.”
“Should be?” But the phone line was already dead.
“Shit, c’mon Gallagher, get up you stubborn son of a bitch.”
Maybe he heard him or maybe it was coincidence but at that moment Ian let out a groan.
“Ian?”
“Mickey?” Ian blinked, confused, back up at him. Unsteadily pulling himself up from the shorter mans lap.
“Woah, easy, you took a fucking nose dive off the roof.”
Ian stared back at him, drawing in on himself slightly.
“What?” The younger man asked.
“You don’t remember?”
Ian shook his head, immediately wincing and bringing a hand up to his head.
“What are you still doing here?” Ian asked after a second.
The question took Mickey aback.
“Where the fuck else would I be?”
Ian shrugged, crawling back to lean against the chainlink fence.
“Most people don’t stick around after a breakup.”
It was Mickeys turn to stare, not understanding a word that was coming out of his husbands mouth.
“What the fuck are you talking about? That fall knock a few screws loose? We just got married, that was the end of our breakups.” Mickey said, wiggling his ring finger in front of Ian to prove his point.
Ian stared at the ring wrapped around Mickeys finger before lifting up his own left hand to examine his finger ring. He touched the ring with such a mixture of emotions, Mickey couldn’t even pinpoint them all. Confusion, disbelief, shock, fear, and awe, being among them.
Ian’s eyes flickered back up to Mickey’s, mouth open no doubt to ask another strange and confusing question when the sirens sound came blearing down the street.
“We got a call that a man had suffered a head wound at this address?” The first paramedic out of the ambulance asked.
Mickey pointed them over towards Ian.
“My husband. He just woke up and he’s been acting fucking weird since.”
The paramedics came over to where Ian was hunched by the fence.
“Hello, sir. We heard you had an accident.”
Ian shrugged, not paying much attention to the people in front of him, his focus still on the ring on his finger.
“Sir, could you tell us your name?”
“Ian Gallagher.” He replied softly, having yet to look up at the paramedics.
“Hi, Ian. Would you mind if I looked at your head?” The male paramedic asked.
Again Ian shrugged, moving slightly away from the fence to allow better access.
While the male paramedic examined Ian, the female one crouched within his eyesight.
“Hey Ian, could you answer just a couple of questions for me?”
“Okay.”
“Great.” The woman replied, way too brightly for someone who was meant to be making sure Ian was okay, at least in Mickey’s opinion. “What do you remember prior to the impact?”
Ian’s eyes flickered up to meet Mickey’s before looking back at the paramedic.
“Umm, I’d just gotten back from a trip with my mom.”
Mickey stilled, Ian’s answers earlier had been strange but not thinking he’d been hanging out with his dead mother strange.
“Do you remember what lead to you hitting your head?” The paramedic asked, this time using a light to shine into Ian’s eyes while she waited for his answer.
“No.” Ian replied, wincing slightly as the other paramedic continued his check of Ian’s skull.
“Okay that’s perfectly normal. Can you tell me what year it is?”
“2014.” Ian’s answer came with no hesitation but the simple date brought Mickey’s world grounding to a halt.
2014, that was the year Ian had been diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The year Mickey had been sentenced to fifteen years behind bars. And the year Ian had torn his heart to shreds in this very front yard.
No wonder Ian had been confused by his presence, why he thought they were broken up, why he didn’t know they were married.
The paramedic however seemed to just take this answer in her stride. “Do you know where we are?”
“This is my house.”
“Do you know who the president is?”
“Obama?” Ian asked, getting confused by the random questions.
“okay, and finally, can you tell me the days of the week backwards?”
“Umm, Sunday, Saturday, Friday— fuck it’s um.” Ian’s eyes flickered back to Mickey in a panic.
“Hey, it’s okay, there’s no wrong answers here, we just need to access how best to help you.” This came from the male paramedic, who had apparently finished his head assessment.
“It’s um— Thursdays, Wednesday, Tuesday, Monday.”
“That’s great Ian.”
“So I’m okay?”
“Ian, have you heard of the condition amnesia?”
“Yeah?” Ian replied, a slight questioning lilt to his voice, not yet understanding what Mickey was just starting to piece together.
“During my questions you said you believe it’s 2014 and that Obama is President. Do you still believe that?”
“Yes?” Ian replied, nerves now clouding his voice.
“Ian, the year is 2020.” The paramedic informed him gently.
Ian looked between the two health workers before looking up to Mickey, as if to ask for confirmation.
Mickey nodded and Ian let out a shuddering breath, closing his eyes while leaning back against the fence while he took it all in.
“We’d like for you to come down to the hospital so we can run some routine tests to make sure you’re okay. Amnesia is common after head wounds and usually goes away on its own but it’s important we check nothing else is going on.”
Ian nodded, getting up slowly from his position to follow them to the ambulance.
Mickey made to go after him.
“You don’t have to come, you don’t owe me anything.” Ian said when he heard the footsteps following him.
Mickey was glad Ian was facing away from him so he couldn’t see how much those words broke his heart.
“Fuck off Gallagher, I know I don’t owe you shit, still gonna make sure you’re okay.”
“I don’t need a nurse.” Ian complained, now turning to face the older man.
“Think the doc said the opposite.”
Ian huffed at his answer but made no more moves to stop Mickey from following him into the ambulance.
~page break-
The L ride back to the house had been spent in silence, the walk from the L didn’t seem to be faring any better. The doctors at the hospital had cleared Ian of any major damage, just a slight concussion and told them to come back in a week if his memory still hadn’t improved. Stupid doctors go to all their fancy medical schools but still couldn’t help Ian when he was hurt.
“You don’t have to come back to the house you know.” It was the first thing Ian had said since they left the hospital.
“Considering I live there I kinda fucking do.”
“Right.” Ian started fiddling with his wedding ring, going back to looking between Mickey and the ring like he still couldn’t quite believe it.
They fell back into silence for a couple more minutes.
“Why did you want to marry me?” The voice came out small, the words so vividly reminiscent of Ian’s fears before their wedding. Words and worries that they’d moved past, but only Mickey remembered that now.
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Mickey laughed, there was no joy in it but once he started he found it incredibly hard to stop.
Ian stood there in alarm, watching Mickey have his, breakdown? Was this a breakdown? It felt like a breakdown. All there years of life constantly pulling them apart was meant to be over and now Ian couldn’t even remember it. He should’ve known not to get too settled.
“Have you gone fucking crazy too?”
That just made him laugh more. Mickey shook his head at his husband, taking a couple of minutes to calm himself down.
“You’re not fucking crazy.”
“Yes I am. There’s too much wrong with me, why would you choose to tie yourself down to me? I have nothing to offer you.”
“We got married cause we fucking love each other.” Mickey replied, Ian’s words from the diner proposal ringing in his ears.
“What so we really did go down to the courthouse in some tuxes like a couple of old queens?” Ian asked with a small joyless laugh.
“Polish Doll actually.”
“Aren’t they homophobes?”
“Worked around it.” Mickey replied, lips twitching upwards just at the memory of that day. “C’mon man, let’s not do this here.”
Ian sighed but seemed slightly more accepting of Mickey coming home with him now, or at least he wasn’t outwardly fighting it as they continued the short trudge back to the South Wallace house.
“I’m tired, think I’m gonna go to bed early.”
“You sure that’s okay? They said you had a concussion.”
“A mild concussion. And it’s fine, as long as I can walk straight and keep a conversation I can sleep.”
Mickey’s heart leapt up in his chest at those words, was he starting to remember?
“You remember all that medical shit?”
“What medical shit? Carl’s always getting concussions so I remember that stuff.”
Mickey tried to hide his disappointment but probably not well enough as Ian gave him a weird look before shaking his head and climbing up the stairs.
Mickey sighed as he watched the retreating form of his husband, tears prickling in the corners of his eyes that he refused to let fall as he headed to get a beer from the fridge. The first of likely many this evening.
Mickey was halfway through his second one when the front door opened, Carl, Debbie and Franny coming into the house, with the two siblings arguing about some dumb shit or other. The noise soon bringing Liam down from his room.
Not for the first time Mickey was grateful for how self obsessed the majority of the Gallaghers were. Liam had acknowledged him before being dragged into whatever drama his siblings had going on, while Franny was too invested in her cartoons to notice much. Meaning Mickey got away with mostly staying out of it while he finished his beer before deciding it was time to check on his husband.
Slowly pulling the accordion door open, Mickey swore his beat stopped when he saw that the room was empty, remembering teenaged Ian’s tendency to run when things got hard. Pulling back quickly, Mickey scanned the first floor of the house before landing on the slightly ajar door to the old boys room.
Rushing down the hall, Mickey only felt like he could breathe again once the rickety old door was open and he could see Ian curled up on his old bed, having forgotten he ever moved rooms.
Mickey went back to their bedroom, digging around under the bed to find the wedding album he’d created with Franny not that long ago. His young niece insisting she’d be a big help. The overall look ended up being slightly childish but it would still hopefully have the desired effect today, to get Ian to realised what he hadn’t been able to six years ago. That he loved him and wasn’t going anywhere.
Back in the boys room, Mickey carefully placed the album down on the side table. Leaning over he ran his fingers through Ian’s hair, the younger man nuzzling into his hand even in his sleep, looking so peaceful all the while.
Mickey couldn’t bring himself to wake him up, if he didn’t have his memories back, all being awake would bring him was pain and misery. At least in his sleep he he could be happy.
Mickey grabbed a pillow from the abandoned third bed and lay down on the floor to wait, he didn’t want to be too far away from Ian, not right now but the days events had been too exhausting. He just needed to close his eyes for a few seconds
~page break-
When Ian woke up the room was lit only by the moonlight streaming in through the window. He could hear snores coming from the other occupants of the room, Carl up in the bunk bed and— Mickey sleeping on the floor? Ian remembered the events of the day, the doctors who told him he’d forgotten six years of his life, and Mickey who had stayed by his side throughout all of it, not caring about the breakup. Although, he supposed, to Mickey that must seem like ancient history by now.
Leaning over to properly look at his now husband, Ian’s eye caught something resting beside the bed that hadn’t been there before.
Picking it up he couldn’t help the small gasp that left him once he realised what was in his hands. The photo on the front was of Mickey and himself, dressed up in fancy tuxes, flipping the camera off with their other arms wrapped around each other.
Ian brushed his finger against the photo Mickey softly before slowly turning the page. The album was filled with photos upon photos of them, dancing, laughing, kissing. The ones that must have been taken while they exchanged their vows made him pause the most. The serious looks on their faces, followed by the utter joy in their grins from the pictures of them walking down the aisle together.
They fucking loved each other. After everything, they really fucking loved each other.
Ian pulled the album to his chest, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes. He wanted to keep looking but his head was hurting now more than ever and it helped to close his eyes.Still it wasn’t long before he fell asleep, soothed by the images of his wedding to the love of his life.
~page break~
Waking up groggy hours later, Ian sat up with a groan, looking around his old room and the down at the album still in his arms confused.
“Hey you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Mickey asked, sitting up from his place on the ground.
Looking at Mickey, Ian suddenly remembered everything that had happened yesterday. It was strange to remember a time that he didn’t remember so much of his life.
Ian quickly moved off the bed to wrap his arms around his husband, not being able to go without holding Mickey any longer, they’d lost enough time and yesterday only proved that.
“I’m so sorry Mick.”
Mickey tensed in his arms.
“What you sorry about?”
“Yesterday, fuck, I’m sorry. I don’t know how I’d manage if all you remembered was from one of our breakups.” Ian breathed into his neck.
“You remember?” Mickey asked, not quite ready to let his guard down after the hell that had been the day before.
“I remember everything Mick.”
Ian couldn’t be sure but thought he heard a slight sob before Mickey’s arms tightened around him, bringing him as close to his body as possible.
“Don’t fucking do that again Gallagher.”
“I promise Mick.” Ian replied, kissing Mickey’s neck where his head was buried. “I’m not going anywhere.”
91 notes · View notes
chibinekochan · 3 years
Text
My biggest treasure - Ft. Mammon
Mammon is a Goblin in this au.
This is part of the Monster tales au Series
-------
You have been on the hunt for this treasure for a while now.
Having all the information about its whereabouts, defenses, and most importantly feeling morally right.
Its owner is a scummy guy after all.
This gem will not only bring you some nice cash, and bringing it back to its rightful owner will surely feel good too.
With well-planned moves, you make your way towards the big mansion.
Now you have to climb the wall. You have studied the moves of the guards.
They won't be around for a while.
With quiet steps, you move in the darkness. Only a few moves are needed to scale the wall and carefully jump on a neighboring tree.
Swiftly scan the area.
It seems the dogs haven't noticed you yet.
You want to keep it that way and continue your way on top of the trees. Carefully navigating through the shadows, practically becoming one of them.
Slowly, the lights of the mansion come into view.
The carefully kept garden is now in front of you.
The shrubs will offer you a little cover and the dogs might sense your presence. You smirk. Time for the real challenge to begin.
You take a deep breath to strengthen your nerves.
With ease, you jump from the tree and run at high speed through the garden, occasionally jumping over hedges.
By the time you hear dogs barking, you have already climbed the balcony and wait for clear air.
The guards check the hedges, but of course find nothing.
.
You smirk when they shrug and go back to their posts.
You wait a bit longer and then carefully and quietly open the door.
Your body is moving low and fast, knowing exactly where your target is. Lucky for you, the scumbag has a huge ego and displays what you are looking for right in his living room.
You sneak in the shadows, listening to every sound. It's quiet. You can only hear your own heart and breathing.
Then you see it slightly shimmering, illuminated by the moon. The gem you are looking for.
You calm your nerves and steady your hands.
Then suddenly you hear a commotion, loud barking from the outside. Some lights in the mansion turning on and glass shattering.
Unsure what just happened, your instinct kicks in and all you can do is run.
Light starts to shine into the room, causing the gem to sparkle as if to mock you.
You run towards the nearest window, ready to jump out.
When suddenly something passes you at high speed. For a moment you pause until you notice it's a person.
This must be whoever interrupted you.
You have no time to stay, you hear the guards closing in.
With little choice, you run and jump after the stranger.
The guards behind you yell, and the dogs chase you.
There is no time for anything else but running. You run in a straight line towards the wall. Following close behind the other person.
Once you jump the wall, you have to make sure that nobody is following you. You can still keep an eye on the other person.
Only catching a quick glance at them. White hair and blue eyes. You take a mental note of it.
Your pursuers are still behind you, and you decide to go deeper into the forest to shake them off or at least to hide.
You can smack the guy another time.
By the next day, you are back in your home. The loss of income is a hard blow to your family,, but it can't be helped. It's better to be poor but free.
Your siblings were disappointed,, but you can make money more honestly until another opportunity arises.
Hopefully, the medicine for your smallest sibling will last long enough. Worryingly, you eye the half-empty bottle.
"It's okay, we will work hard and buy more." Ian, the 2nd oldest, Ian, has seen your worries.
You ruffle their hair. "Don't worry about it. I will trade some herbs with the pharmacist and in the bar tonight again." You smile to ease their worries.
"You work too much." The 2nd youngest, Eva, looks worried.
"We have to get food, so we can cook a good meal. I will catch fish for us." Ian is suddenly super motivated.
"Yeah, I will get some veggies from our garden. Rest so you can work hard for us later." Eva has taken care of the garden and grown some stuff.
Your heart is filled with pride, and you hug them both. "You guys are the best, just don't forget to play with your friends too." You feel bad about being so poor,, but it can't be helped. After losing both parents, you are left as the oldest to take care of them.
And you do everything for them, even if it means stealing.
You go and rest for a while until sunset.
Then you cook the fish and vegetables that your siblings got for tonight. They are very good kids. You are very proud of them. You make soup for your youngest sibling, Owen.
"Dinner is ready." You dish everyone up, making sure your siblings get more than you.
"Looks great." Eve beams at the food.
"I worked hard for this fish, so you better eat it all." Ian looks at both of you sternly.
"Thank you both for the food." You are truly grateful to them.
"Will you have to go again soon?" Ian knows well that I have to leave them alone sometimes due to my 'nightwork'.
It can take days to get the treasure and to get my money. Not even mentioning the time I have to spend hiding. Still, the pay is so high that I can't afford not doing it.
"I will have to see,, but currently I have nothing lined up." I know it's hard for them when I'm not here,, but there is no other way for me to afford the medicine.
Ian seems troubled.
"Don't frown, Ian, we can handle everything just fine." Eve pats his back.
"Well, of course, but I'm worried about you." Ian becomes confident, but then frowns at you.
"Haha, I can watch out for myself. I'm plenty strong." I giggle. Sometimes he acts like the dad. It's sad that they all have to grow up so fast.
"Yeah, like the time you beat that bear. That was so cool!" Eve's eyes sparkle.
Ian shakes his head. "That was scary."
"I gotta agree with you. I will go and check on Owen. He needs to eat." You worry about the amount of food he eats. It's definitely not enough.
The others keep bickering, and you walk into the room. You open the windows, fill the pitcher with water, and check on Owen. He looks at you with tired eyes,, but he is smiling weakly.
"Hey there, sleepy head. Time for food." You smile, trying to hide your worries.
"I'm not really hungry." He says with a weak voice.
"It's very tasty. So why not try a bit?" His state breaks your heart,, but you fight through it.
Owen nods and you help him sit.
You feed him slowly. He seems to like it. This is relieving.
At some point, he can't eat anymore. "You ate half a bowl today. Great work." You encourage him.
Then you change his bedding and shake his pillows before giving him his medicine.
He frowns.
"I know it's bitter, but it helps, right? I have an apple for dessert if you take it all." You bribe him with a sliced apple.
"Pudding would be better." Owen smiles sheepishly.
"Pudding makes everything better. I will see what I can do." Sadly, even pudding is a luxury for us. I wonder if I can get a portion for everyone?
"It's alright, I like apples." Owen knows more about your situation than he lets on.
Owen bravely takes his medicine and eats a few slices of the apple.
You bring the rest to your other siblings.
Then you do a few chores before heading to work.
It's going to be a long night, you can already tell.
The bar you work at is a bit rowdy, the patrons are ruff, but overall good people. It's usually fun to work at the place.
The gruff owner is a nice guy, who often gives you 'leftovers' or stuff his wife made that he apparently really doesn't like. You know that neither is true,, but you are also not one to just take handouts, and he is also a bit awkward,, so this is how you two handle things.
"Hey, I'm in." I say hi to the owner, who grunts at me.
I start to clean the floor and prepare everything for opening time.
"Hey, the wife made some strange stuff again. Please take it off my hands' kiddo?" The owner shoves a box towards you.
It's definitely food that smells great. "Are you sure? It sure smells nice."
"Get it off me, before I toss it out." The owner frowns.
I take the box. "Alright, thank the wife for me." I smile at him and put the box in the back.
"You're gonna make her believe her food is any good." He grumbles.
"Don't let her hear that,, or she might believe you." I grin at him, knowing that he loves her food.
He shrugs. "We've got game night tonight so if it gets rowdy, feel free to kick them."
With game night, he means gambling. It's not really legal, but it brings good business but of course also some strange people.
"Sure thing. I hope we get some big spenders tonight." Usually, the drunken winners give nice tips.
"You just keep dreaming big kiddo, as long as we make money I'm happy." He keeps cleaning glasses while talking.
You clean the last few tables and get the gaming stuff ready, it's just a box of dice, cards and such things.
Slowly the guests are pouring in. Most of which you know on a first-name. They order their usual. These guests aren't only here for gambling, they are here on most nights anyway.
Then when night breaks a different clientele is pouring in and filling the tables.
They all know the game. Trading money for snacks or coasters. Some use their means of hiding the money in play.
The owner keeps a close eye on everything from a distance. While you keep filling glasses.
Nothing strikes you as odd until you see a Goblin on one of the tables. This by itself isn't all that unusual, all kinds of folk come here after all. This goblin somehow strikes you as odd.
Then suddenly you realize, his hair color is white. That is certainly unusual, sadly you can't see his eyes since he wears yellow-tinted glasses.
This might be the guy that screwed you over. You feel anger rising at this realization. Even if he probably didn't mean to, he still cost you a nice paycheck.
For a while, you try to keep a close eye on him but the other customers keep you busy.
Especially when a guy wins big and throws around for everyone. Of course, this is a cause for celebration for everyone.
Now with the alcohol level raised you have to use your kicking abilities a few times. Nothing out of the ordinary.
You handle yourself well and the owner kicks a few rowdy guests out.
Finally, it calms down a bit in the early hours of the morning.
You sigh deeply, but it was pretty successful. You got a big tip from one guy.
The goblin is forgotten by now.
"I don't need you for the rest of the night." This is the owner's way of telling you to go home and rest.
"Thanks. Don't make too long." You glance around at the few leftover guests.
"No worries, I will kick em out soon." He grumbles.
You take the food and head out the backdoor.
The cool night air feels good on your skin, you take a deep breath and start walking.
Once, you pass by a tight ally, and you notice a group of guys harassing someone.
Under your watch! It seems to be three guys, all rather drunk. You can take them.
You walk towards the guys. "Hey, I think that's enough."
"Huh, what's that? Are you kiddn me?" One of the drunks looks towards me.
"Whatever that guy did, he had enough. You all don't want to go to jail for killing a guy, do you?" You huff at them, trying to look bigger than you are.
"Aw, come on, he has it comin. This guy is a cheat." The other man kicks the poor victim.
You shake your head. "Come on guys, just go home, he learned his lesson."
The guy on the floor groans. "I'll be good, I swear." He doesn't sound super convincing, to be honest.
The drunks shuffle around. Seemingly unhappy to leave.
"Guys go home. You got your money back, so your wife won't be mad,, but they might be if you are in jail for murder." You try to convince them.
The guys seem to freeze up. "Ah, well, it's late anyway. You better not show your face here again." With that, they shuffle off.
You sigh with relief when they walk away. You then go to check on the man on the floor.
Now you notice it's the Goblin you saw earlier. His glasses are shattered on the floor, revealing his blue eyes. So it might be that thief from the other night after all.
"Ugh… that hurt. Thanks for that." He staggers while trying to get up.
"You might want to go to a doctor for these injuries." You glare at him.
"What's with that look? Do I know you? D-don't tell me I owe you money?!" Suddenly he seems to be much better and gets up. Seemingly trying to get some distance between you.
"I don't even know you." You glare at him. "Though I'd say you owe me for saving your butt." You feel like he is pretty ungrateful.
"Well, thanks then… Umm, I got no cash, but here I got this necklace." He rummages through his pockets and pulls out a necklace from somewhere.
He dangles it in front of you.
You can only frown at it. "Gee, thanks."
"Hey, it ain't any day that I give stuff like that. So be grateful." He huffs at you.
"I'd be more grateful if it wasn't gaudy or fake." You take the clearly fake jewelry. Maybe Eve will like it.
"Fake? You can tell with just one glance?" He seems impressed.
You feel like he has just seen right through you. "It's a special talent." You shrug and play it cool.
"Well, in that case. I could use your special skills for a job. I need someone to tell me what the valuables are." He changes right into business mode.
"Are you offering illegal work to me?" You act all offended.
"Come on, the job in that dingy bar doesn't pay well. I'd split 90:10." He smiles at you.
"I gladly take that 90 percent, very generous." You know that's not his offer,, but he somehow irritates you.
"It'll be 10 for you,, obviously." He shakes his head.
"No, thanks. I don't trust you anyway." You glare at him.
"Fine, how about 30 percent?" He throws his hand up as if he is being generous.
"More like 70 for me if you can't even tell what's fake." You can't believe that you are still talking to this guy.
He sighs. "Alright, I get it, same risk same reward right? So 50:50. My last offer."
"You seem quite desperate. What kind of stuff are we talking about here, anyway?" Now you are getting curious.
"It's an old mansion. Real old money. Real old scum, too. I just want to grab some of their valuables. It's not like they're gonna miss it anyway." He is vague,, but you somehow feel like you know what place he is talking about.
"Does that happen to be the raven mansion?" The place where your heist was interrupted.
His eyes go wide. "How'd you know?"
"Let's just say that I got interrupted in my own business by some amateur." You glare at him.
"Wait… t-that was you? Oh man, you were ama… umm I mean you were okay." The tips of his ears glow dark.
"You should grovel for what you have done. Screwed me right out of a job." Finally, you can let your anger out.
"I had no idea you were there. I'm sorry." He seems at least half earnest. "So that only means you already know the place, and you can finish the other job there too. I'd take no cut of that either. See, I'm very generous."
"Says the guy that offered me ten percent." You huff at him.
"That was just testing the waters, I'd given you at least 30." He puffs his cheeks. "So it's all settled then?"
"No, I still don't trust you." You eye him carefully.
"What would it take for you to take the job?" He asks, also looking for a sign of weakness in me.
"Well, first of all your name." This is an important first step, at least.
"Ah, could've said you were interested. I mean, you were eyeing me in the bar the whole time. I'm down if you are." He calmly shrugs.
You take a step towards him. "You wish." You look him right in the eyes, glaring at him.
He awkwardly looks away. "J-just saying I'm a handsome goblin…"
"I have seen better. Besides, it means that you checked me out, doesn't it?" You grin at him.
His cheeks turn dark. "N-no, I just felt a burning gaze on me the entire time."
"That was disdain and nothing else." You cross your arms.
"Call it whatever you want." He huffs and turns his head awkwardly. "Anyway, how am I supposed to show that you can trust me?"
"How about telling me your name?" You eye him with suspicion.
"I'm the great Mammon. Better not forget it." He puffs his chest in a display of pride.
You don't acknowledge his presentation whatsoever. "What are you planning to do with that treasure?"
"I'm gonna sell it for cash to pay some debts. I might keep a thing or two for my collection too." Mammon seems pretty honest about it, at least.
"With that, you mean you pawn it and gamble." You only can guess,, but his behavior at the bar speaks volumes.
He seems to feel called out. "Hey, I'm good at gambling, just some people think I'm too good ya know?"
"Nobody is good at it, it's just luck and in your case cheating. You should know better than to gamble all your cash." You start to lecture him.
"I get it, I get it." He sighs. "You sound like my big bro." He sighs deeply. "So, this is all you want to know?"
You think for a moment. "I don't know,, but I guess it's enough for now. I'd wish I had some security at least.” You sigh. "I know it can't be helped."
"I get ya, you've got a life you can't just go or whatever." Mammon seems to agree with you. "Alright, I don't like doing this,, but I got something that might convince you." He then starts to rummage through his vest, he obviously has some hidden pockets in there.
He then produces a gold coin. "Here ya go. I want it back after the job is done. So better not lose it." Mammon seems a bit reluctant to let the coin go.
"This coin seems important to you." You carefully inspect it, it's real, but there seems to be some story here.
"Goldie is my personal good luck charm." He looks almost fondly at the coin.
You smile, somehow this is cute. When you realize your smile, you make your face freeze once more.
"Alright, I acknowledge you as my partner." You reach your hand out to him.
"So that's what it took,, huh?" He seems a bit confused but also relieved.
You shake hands and the deal is sealed.
Mammon suggests a meeting point in a few days' time. He needs to heal and prepare after all.
You also have to make sure your siblings are taken care of. So this works for you.
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clingymickey · 3 years
Text
Here's some angst for ya! Got to be honest tho I'm more a fluff gal when it comes to writing but got into the mood of writing some angst. So enjoy <33 (It's my first time writing angst btw.). Also please read the tags before you read this.
ALWAYS BESIDE YOU
Panic. That's all he's feeling at the moment. Panic. Panic. Panic. He feels like he can't breathe. Harsh breaths. He jolted up awake. Eyes wide open, face and palms sweaty, shoulder's stiff, rushed breathing; right there beside him is his husband, his partner, lover, family, with a concerned and wary look on his face. His hands running up and down his back comforting him, making him feel safe.
"Hey, Mickey, Mick, what's wrong?" Ian asks worriedly.
Eyes look towards him, his breath still harsh. He's trying to think of words to say but nothing comes out.
"Hey, breathe, Mick, just breathe" he says softly. "Just follow me, alright."
His chest rising, and as it deflates, warm air brushing Mickey's cheek. He tries to follow the same; soon his breaths slowly becoming steady again.
"Thank you," Mickey finally lets out, voice a little hitched. "I really needed that."
Ian says nothing except for an accepting nod and his hands holding his head tight.
"You wanna talk about it?" Ian asks calmly once the tension died down. It's fine if Mickey doesn't want to talk about it, he knows whatever it was bothering him, it would be hard for him to talk about.
Mickey doesn't reply, and Ian doesn't push it any further.
After a long time, he finally whispers, "I think I had a bad dream."
Well, more like a bad childhood memory than a dream.
"It was Terry" he said with a tone of spite. "He sent me and Iggy for a run, and when I came back, he was standing there with 4 bottles of empty beer next to him, throwing all of my drawings into the flame."
Mickey paused for some time. Chewing his bottom lip with his canine hard enough until it started to bleed slightly – thinking of how to put his words next. Ian's arms still wrapped around his back and head, calming his fear away.
"Drawing is for pussies is what he said," voice breaking a little. "Ain't no son of mine a pussy" Mickey repeats, then wincing, remembering exactly what his father did after he said that.
"He slowly walked towards me and as he came closer his fist met my face sending me towards this glass table we had, my body crashing into that, it became all bloody and bruised up, broken glass pieces everywhere." he says, smiling a little, although his smile not meeting his eyes.
It quickly became silent again, just the sound of their breathing filling up the room, Ian just waiting for him to continue. All he wanted to do at this moment was to hug him and protect him from all the hurtful memories he had, and make him feel safe, but he didn't, instead he gave Mickey his space, wanting to hear from him what happened next. It's not like Ian doesn't know, he very well knows what Terry was capable of doing and what he had done, yet he wants Mickey to tell him, so that he knows he can feel comfortable telling his pain.
"He hit me harder the next time, at least 7 or 8 times, but this time with his gun."
His eyes were glassy with tears forming in the corner of his eyes, his nose becoming red. He's trying to hold it in, not to break, but he fails. Tears running down the side of his cheeks, eyes becoming puffy, letting out a quiet choked cry. Ian's hands steering Mickey's head towards the crook of his neck and just hugging him there, silently promising himself to never let go.
"As he's kicking me, while I'm on the floor, I see Mandy just peeking out from behind the wall," he continues. "She was scared, just looking at what was happening to me, crying, and holding her favorite stuffed animal tight…I could never forget that sight."
"I think that's also when we both realized that I would no longer be able to protect her from Terry."
Ian wanted to say that it wasn't true, that Mickey was always able to protect her no matter what, and that it was fine now because Terry was no longer here to torture them, but he stopped himself and just let Mickey continue.
"You wanna know something funny?" he asks, head tilting up to look at Ian.
"What?" Ian says back, voice sounding a little choked up.
"I never actually felt any pain, after I hit the table rest everything became numb," he chuckled wearily, cool air hitting Ian's chest. "I couldn't feel anything when Terry pistol-whipped me, nothing, except for this feeling like I couldn't breathe, and pain from when Mandy saw me like that."
Mickey let out a sigh.
"After he was done, he came up close to my face, breath smelling like beer and smoke, he told me that if he ever saw me drawing or saw any art of mine, he would do more than what he did to me that day – he'd teach me a lesson he said."
Neither of them said anything afterwards, they'd just laid there holding one another. It was one of those moments where nothing had to be said or spoken, just the presence of each other was enough.
A beat later, Mickey exhaled sharply, shifting his position a little, but making no effort to move out of Ian's arms.
"Thank you," he says again. "Thanks for just you know listening to me and just being there, even if it didn't affect you."
"You don't have to thank me, Mick, I'll always be there for you okay. No matter what, I'll always be beside you. And it does affect me, whatever happened or happens to you, affects me in every way 'cos I love you." Ian says, gently tightening his grip around Mickey.
"I love you too, Ian" he replies softly, finally smiling, this time it reached his eyes.
Later that night, not once did he get a bad dream, worrying himself about Terry.
------
A few days later.
"Hey, Mick, guess what I got you" Ian sings, with a grin so wide it could probably slice his face in half.
"What?" Mickey grumbles, voice hoarse, as he's slowly getting himself out from his slumber.
His eyes immediately go towards the small box that's in front of him on his lap, wrapped up all pretty and nice with a bow resting on top of it.
Was it his birthday? Anniversary? No, he's pretty sure he would remember that. A special occasion?
"What's in this, Gallagher" he mumbles, eyeing his husband suspiciously.
"Why don't you check it, Gallagher." He retorts, with a sly smirk.
Mickey hazardously tears down the wrapping paper, leaving a mess all over the bed and floor, opens the box, and can't believe what he's seeing.
"So do you like it?" Ian questions, unable to read his husband's face right away.
Of course, he likes it, how could he not.
"Fuck yeah, I love it." He says cheerfully, pulling out the drawing book and color pencils.
"Open the book." Ian says making a gesture with his hands towards the book.
Mickey slowly opens the book to its first page, never losing eye contact with Ian as he opens it. Then, he looks down and notices the flyer for drawing classes.
"Now that Terry's gone, you don't have to be afraid, so I thought I could get you this." He mumbles.
Mickey doesn't say anything, just staring between the flyer and Ian, unable to put his happiness into words.
"Soo, is it okay? D-do you like it" Ian stuttered.
"Yeah, yeah, it's okay, it's more than okay in fact." Mickey nods, eyes filling up with tears. "Thank you"
"You deserve it." Ian says back softly.
"You sap." Mickey snickers. "You know what, I think you deserve a treat for this." He says, trying to steer the conversation into playfulness.
"Oh yeah" Ian said, taking the hint.
Mickey leans up to place a peck on his lips. What was supposed to be a small peck turned into a deep and meaningful kiss, with Ian not wanting Mickey to pull back.
"I love you." Mickey pants into Ian's lips after pulling them apart to get some air.
"I know, I love you too" Ian whispered, reminding him of the time when Mickey said those exact words when they were in prison.
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irelise · 4 years
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Yassen Gregorovich - Books vs TV
With the excellent new Alex Rider tv show out, I thought I would make a comparison post for one of my old favs, Yassen Gregorovich, who has a somewhat different feel in the books as compared to the show! This post will largely cover the first book Stormbreaker and should theoretically contain no spoilers for the potential future arcs of the show, since the events of Stormbreaker are presumably non-canon now. (Spoilers abound for the episodes of the show already out, though!)
If there’s any interest, I’ll put up a second post covering Eagle Strike and some parts of Russian Roulette that delves deeper into Yassen and his complicated relationship with Alex. Just let me know!
Much like the show, Yassen was the one who killed Ian Rider. Unlike the show, however, he’s known to be active on the field and the first time we “encounter” him is prior to Alex’s first mission, where Mrs Jones gives Alex a warning:
She took out a black-and-white photograph and laid it on the table. It showed a man in a white T shirt and jeans. He was in his late twenties with light, close cropped hair, a smooth face, the body of a dancer. The photograph was slightly blurred. It had been taken from a distance, possibly with a hidden camera. “I want you to look at this,” she said.
"I’m looking."
“His name is Yassen Gregorovich. He was born in Russia, but he now works for many countries. Iraq has employed him. Also Serbia, Libya, and China.”
“What does he do?” Alex asked.
"He’s a contract killer, Alex. We believe it was he who killed Ian Rider.”
There was a long pause. Alex had almost managed to persuade himself that this whole business was just some sort of crazy adventure…a game. But looking at the cold face with its blank, hooded eyes, he felt something stirring inside him and knew it was fear. He remembered his uncle’s car, shattered by bullets. A man like this, a contract killer, would do the same to him. He wouldn’t even blink.
[…]
“Why are you telling me this now?” Alex asked. His mouth had gone dry.
"Because if you see him, if Yassen is anywhere near Sayle Enterprises, I want you to contact us at once."
“And then?"
“We’ll pull you out. It doesn’t matter how old you are, Alex. If Yassen finds out you’re working for us, he’ll kill you too.”
I always thought this was a pretty good introductory scene -- Yassen has a very deadly reputation in the books, which is established at once then hammered in over and over again. Other traits which come up again and again include his coldness and his dancer’s body which is totally something I’m into, gotta love those “elegant and deadly assassin” tropes
(also, yes, Yassen is blond in the books and definitely not a brunet or even a redhead as in the movie. he also doesn’t have a distinctive facial scar!)
Yassen doesn’t actually have many scenes in Stormbreaker, although the shadow of his presence looms pretty darkly over the narrative. Alex only runs into him twice on the mission: once from a distance -- A lean, fair-haired figure dressed in black detached himself from the assembly line and walked languidly toward a door that slid open to receive him -- and the other encounter also occurs from a distance, when Alex is spying on a mysterious delivery at the docks in the dead of the night...
And then the tower opened and a man climbed out, stretching himself in the cold morning air. Even without the half-moon, Alex would have recognized the sleek dancer’s body and the close cropped-hair of the man whose photograph he had seen only a few days before. It was Yassen Gregorovich. Alex stared at him with growing fear. This was the contract killer Mrs. Jones had told him about. The man who had murdered Ian Rider. He was dressed in grey overalls and sneakers. He was smiling. He was the last person Alex wanted to meet.
[…]
Meanwhile, the guards from Sayle Enterprises had formed a line stretching back almost to the point where the vehicles were parked. Yassen gave an order and, as Alex watched from behind the rocks, a metallic silver box with a vacuum seal appeared, held by unseen hands at the top of the submarine’s tower. Yassen himself passed it down to the first of the guards, who then passed it back up the line. About forty more boxes followed, one after another. It took almost an hour to unload the submarine. The men handled the boxes carefully. They obviously didn’t want to break whatever was inside.
By the end of the hour they were almost finished. The boxes were being repacked now into the back of the truck that Alex had vacated. And that was when it happened. One of the men, standing on the jetty, dropped one of the boxes. He managed to catch it again at the last minute, but even so it banged down heavily on the stone surface. Everyone stopped. Instantly. It was as if a switch had been thrown and Alex could almost feel the raw fear in the air.
Yassen was the first to recover. He darted forward along the jetty, moving like a cat, his feet making no sound. He reached the box and ran his hands over it, checking the seal, then nodded slowly. The metal wasn’t even dented.
With everyone so still Alex heard the exchange that followed.
“I’m sorry,” the guard said. “I won’t do that again.”
“No. You won’t,” Yassen agreed, and shot him.
Largely a reaffirmation of what we saw from the photograph scene, this time in person: Yassen is generally quiet, understated and deceptively relaxed -- up until the point he murders somebody without blinking. I think the show does a good job capturing that aspect of Yassen, with scenes like Ian’s death and Dr. Greif in the car coming to mind in particular. Gotta love that pairing of Yassen’s generally calm demeanour with the bursts of restrained yet lethal violence!
Some other minor but interesting character notes: despite being one of the most highly-paid and successful assassins in the world, Yassen is perfectly comfortable doing grunt work (passing boxes, dressing in shitty grey overalls). Similarly, despite being (presumably) more comfortable working alone, he’s also at ease with giving orders and coordinating large groups of people.
Now, moving onto the last time Yassen shows up in Stormbreaker. This is right at the end of the book after Alex successfully foils the plot of the big bad (Herod Sayle), only to get kidnapped by him while his guard is down. Sayle takes them to a rooftop where a helicopter is coming to whisk Sayle away, but first he wants to have some revenge...
"That’s my ticket out of here!” Sayle continued. “They’ll never find me! And one day I’ll be back. Next time, nothing will go wrong. And you won’t be here to stop me. This is the end for you! This is where you die!”
There was nothing Alex could do. Sayle raised the gun and took aim, his eyes wide, the pupils blacker than they had ever been, mere pinpricks in the bulging white.
There were two small explosive cracks.
Alex looked down, expecting to see blood. There was nothing. He couldn’t feel anything. Then Sayle staggered and fell onto his back. There were two gaping holes in his chest.
The helicopter landed in the center of the cross. The pilot got out.
Still holding the gun that had killed Herod Sayle, he walked over and examined the body, prodding it with his shoe. Satisfied, he nodded to himself, tucking the gun away. He had switched off the engine of the helicopter and behind him the blades slowed down and stopped. Alex stepped forward. The man seemed to notice him for the first time.
"You’re Yassen Gregorovich,” Alex said.
The Russian nodded. It was impossible to tell what was going on in his head. His clear blue eyes gave nothing away.
"Why did you kill him?” Alex asked.
“Those were my instructions.” There was no trace of an accent in his voice. He spoke softly, reasonably. “He had become an embarrassment. It was better this way."
"Not better for him.”
Yassen shrugged.
“What about me?” Alex asked.
The Russian ran his eyes over Alex, as if weighing him up. “I have no instructions concerning you,” he said.
"You’re not going to shoot me too?”
"Do I have any need to?”
There was a pause. The two of them gazed at each other over the corpse of Herod Sayle.
“You killed Ian Rider,” Alex said. “He was my uncle.”
Yassen shrugged. “I kill a lot of people"
“One day I’ll kill you.”
“A lot of people have tried.” Yassen smiled. “Believe me,” he said, “it would be better if we didn’t meet again. Go back to school. Go back to your life. And the next time they ask you, say no. Killing is for grown-ups and you’re still a child.”
He turned his back on Alex and climbed into the cabin. The blades started up, and a few seconds later, the helicopter rose back into the air. For a moment it hovered at the side of the building. Behind the glass, Yassen raised his hand. A gesture of friendship? A salute?
Alex raised his hand. The helicopter spun away.
Alex stood where he was, watching it, until it had disappeared in the dying light.
HOO BOY where to start! This is a longer scene compared to the rest but I love it so much, it’s probably the best part of Stormbreaker for me and obviously it’s fairly different from the show. I adore the last scene of the show since the tension was delightful, but this hit in a different way. Alex! And Yassen! Actually talking!!! It’s a sparse scene (like most of AH’s writing), but very atmospheric and loaded with meaning all the same.
Let’s start with the obvious stuff first - book!Yassen is fair-haired and blue-eyed (or grey, depending), and has a very measured way of speaking without any accent at all. He very much falls into the archetype of “inscrutable Russian assassin with a mysterious connection to the protagonist” and it’s delightful.
I do like the fact we only really see Yassen in person for two scenes in the entire book, and both times he kills someone ruthlessly and efficiently. (...yes, he did kill Sayle while piloting a helicopter) His reputation is well-deserved and I think the show does an excellent job with that too; every time we see Yassen on screen there’s a feeling that shit is about to go down and somebody is about to die.
The show also does a pretty good job hinting at the connection between Yassen and Alex (ughh Yassen’s expression when he sees Alex for the first time kills me every time). In Stormbreaker, Yassen does (initially) seem colder towards Alex, emotionless, just a man on a job. But even then, we get little hints of warmth shining through such as the way he smiles when Alex promises to kill him, and of course the salute! It’s pretty clear that Yassen has some measure of fondness for Alex, because no way an assassin would normally just let somebody go after they promised to kill him, even if that person is only a teenage boy (especially considering that teenage boy is driven by a desire to take revenge on his uncle’s killer). I also think it’s interesting that Alex reciprocates his salute. He’s clearly aware (even if only subconsciously) of the connection between the two of them.
Though I think what hits the hardest for me is the fact Yassen is the one to tell Alex that he belongs in school, that he’s a child and he shouldn’t be part of this world. Alex in the books is much, much lonelier compared to the show. There was no Jack or Tom there for him, since Jack was kept completely out of the loop and Tom doesn’t even exist in the book. Wolf and the K-Unit largely either ignored or bullied Alex. As for Blunt and Jones, Alex just saved thousands of kids in England yet the only thing MI6 tells him afterwards is that his actions can never be revealed to the public, his youth will make him useful for future missions, and then the only thing they give him is a doctor’s note(!!!) to explain his absence from school.
If that sounds all sorts of terrible and unfair, Alex agrees:
In the end the big difference between him and James Bond wasn’t a question of age. It was a question of loyalty. In the old days spies had done what they’d done because they loved their country, because they believed in what they were doing. But he’d never been given a choice.
Nowadays, spies weren’t employed. They were used.
And of all the people to point out how fucked up the whole situation is and how Alex needs to get out...it’s Yassen, the contract killer, his uncle’s murderer. And Yassen says it straight to Alex’s face instead of just making token protests about how wrong it is to send a teenage boy into danger and then doing it anyway. I think the moment had a fairly big impact on Alex, and I was sad it wasn’t included in the show, but ah well. Another time, maybe?
BONUS
OK i know this was meant to be a book vs tv show thing BUT I WOULD BE REMISS IN MY DUTIES NOT TO LINK TO THE LAST SCENE AS DEPICTED IN THE OLD MOVIE
‘2 minutes of questionable everything’ from the video description about sums it up. the violins. the closeness. the long lingering looks. “i’ll never forget you.”
Anyway, hope this was interesting and at least a bit informative! Do let me know there’s any interest in a part 2 of this post covering Eagle Strike and maybe a bit of Russian Roulette!
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littlespoonevan · 4 years
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listen!!! ian/mickey/mandy was my original brot3 i had to bring her back!!!!! i hope you like it, bud :D <3
*
Mandy never used to believe that Ian and Mickey would last.
To be fair, the day she found out was also the day their relationship reached its first real breaking point. (Though a part of her remembers not feeling shocked at all, all the pieces – Ian seeing someone he refused to name, Ian overly concerned about Mickey’s wedding, Mickey always conveniently showing up whenever she and Ian were hanging out – suddenly falling into place.)
And she’d taken Ian’s side because- well, as far as she could see Mickey was fucking Ian over just so he could stay in the closet. She’d been wrong, obviously, though no one’s ever actually told her that directly. But there were enough context clues for her to more or less figure out what had happened – especially after the night of Yevgeny’s christening.
So she’d found out about them and she’d been around them and she knew, deep down, they loved each other. But to her it had always seemed like a doomed sort of love. In the way that love tends to be if you’re a Milkovich or a Gallagher.
She’d watched for about a year and a half as they’d clung to each other, desperately trying to make it work despite the world throwing every fucking problem it possibly could at them. And then one day it ended and she wasn’t in Chicago anymore and she still wishes she could’ve said she was surprised when she heard the news.
Time passed after that and she didn’t really talk much to either them but she hoped they’d move on. At least, she knew Ian was trying.
Then one day she’d gotten a phonecall from Beckman Correctional and Mickey was on the other line. (She’d known he’d escaped prison the first time – the cops had come knocking on her door too.) And it was strange talking to him after so long but nice too. In its own way. She’d nearly dropped the phone when he told her Ian was his cellmate.
(She’d heard about that too – Gay Jesus could still reach her even in Boston.)
After that Mickey started using his weekly phonecall to call her while Ian, with a much longer laundry list of relatives, started calling her once a month. It had been the most she’d spoken to either of them in years but she liked it – it made her feel connected to someone again, like her family hadn’t been totally obliterated.
She hadn’t planned on missing the wedding.
But part of getting her shit together meant not flaking on work responsibilities and she’d been roped into securing some account in Toronto with her boss and couldn’t get out of it. She’d managed to score a long weekend off a few weeks later though and promised she’d come visit then which had seemed to be enough to appease them both.
That’s how she finds herself standing on the steps of the Gallagher house on a Friday in February with an overnight bag on her shoulder.
Ian had insisted there’d be plenty of room for her here but she’ll believe that when she sees it. There’s always more people than there should be in this house. She hesitates for a moment, considering knocking but then feeling weird for even thinking it. No one knocks on the door to the Gallagher house. Testing the handle, she finds it unlocked and gently pushes it open.
The house is a lot quieter than it used to be and it throws her for a loop for a moment before she hears voices in the kitchen.
She steps further into the living room, pausing by the back of the couch when she catches sight of Ian and Mickey through the kitchen door. They’re…doing dishes. She thinks.
More specifically, they’re laughing as Ian replaces the glasses in the cabinet and Mickey idly spins a dishtowel in his hand.
“You’re so full of shit!” Mickey’s saying and the size of his grin momentarily leaves Mandy dumbstruck. She can’t even remember the last time Mickey smiled like that. Looking so…content and at ease and happy in own skin.
“I swear to god!” Ian exclaims, turning away from the cabinets and giving Mandy a clear view of the mischievous expression on his face as he holds in a laugh. “The guy’s dick was fuckin’ purple. Nastiest shit I’ve ever seen.”
Mickey makes a face before dropping the towel on the counter and taking the two steps it takes to put himself in Ian’s path. He cups Ian’s face between his hands and says, very solemnly, “You ever break my dick when we’re having sex and I’ll break your neck.”
Ian barks out a laugh and Mandy has to quickly bite her lip to stop a snort of her own as she watches Ian’s hands fit to her brother’s waist. “Pretty sure I’m the one who needs to worry about that,” he points out, expression light and amused as he quirks an eyebrow at Mickey’s reply.
He says it too quietly for Mandy to hear but whatever it is they’re kissing hardly a second later. She considers clearing her throat to make her presence known then because she knows what happens when Ian and Mickey start kissing when they’ve got the house to themselves but they break apart after a few seconds with matching grins. Ian looks up absentmindedly and his eyes land on her, his grin freezing on his face.
“Mandy!” he says, surprise and excitement colouring his voice. He lets his hands fall from Mickey’s waist just as Mickey turns to look at her.
She only has the briefest moment to share a look with him before Ian’s bounding over and sweeping her into a hug. “Hey,” he breathes, squeezing her tight. “Sorry, we didn’t hear you come in.”
Mandy hugs him back and instantly feels herself calm. Ian’s presence has always been comforting. She still remembers stealing whatever bit of affection she could from him when they were teenagers. When he dutifully let her call him her boyfriend even after it became very clear that was never gonna happen.
“It’s okay,” she says on a laugh. “You two looked busy.”
Ian leans back with a bashful expression, squeezing her shoulders before stepping out of the way so she can say hi to Mickey. There’s a single second where they both flounder as they stare at each other before Mickey’s pulling her into a hug and letting out a soft, “Hey.”
She doesn’t expect it but as she wraps her arms around Mickey’s shoulders she can’t help the feeling of déjà-vu that hits her, thinking back to the day she and Ian went to pick Mickey up from juvie. It’s a similar hug, light and familiar and comfortable, and it makes her smile.
In a lot of ways, they used to be normal siblings. They’d been the closest in age out of all their siblings and as the two youngest they sort of naturally fell into that dynamic of driving each other insane while also being willing to defend each other to the death.
Things got more complicated as they got older. Their words becoming sharper sometimes, their inability to help each other like they used to suddenly paralysing them both and making it difficult to know how to interact.
But this feels like before.
Mickey messes up her hair when she pulls away and, inexplicably, it makes a lump form in her throat. Fuck, it’s been so long since they could just joke with each other. But Mandy hasn’t had bruises on her face for years and Mickey has a wedding ring on his finger that he actually wants so maybe it’s time they can get back to that.
“You kept the blonde, huh?” Mickey says when he steps back and Mandy lifts her chin in a haughty smirk.
“Anything to stop people from saying I look like your ugly mug,” she retorts, slipping back into an old banter that comes to her without even thinking about it.
“Bitch,” Mickey grumbles but he’s smiling like he’s amused.
Ian’s hand lands on Mickey’s shoulder before his other reaches for Mandy. “Mands, drop your bag. We can talk in the kitchen.”
Mandy does as she’s told, letting Ian shepherd them both into the kitchen. She tries not to smirk at the fact Mickey doesn’t shrug Ian off this time, electing instead to wind his own arm around Ian’s waist.
They sit at the kitchen table as Ian goes to the fridge to inspect its contents. “You want a drink?” he asks over his shoulder. “We’ve got beer, milk, orange juice, soda, coffee-“
“Coffee sounds good,” she says. The flight hadn’t been all that long but travelling always wears her out a little.
“Mick?” Ian asks and Mickey considers him for just a second before saying, “Make one for me too.”
Mandy raises an eyebrow at him and he ducks his head, looking embarrassed. “’m tryna stop drinking beer before five o’clock.”
The laugh that comes out of her is a little disbelieving but she’s impressed. It’s rare to see Mickey actively trying to take care of himself.
Ian sets the coffee pot going and there’s a sort of awkward pause where none of them quite know what to say before she finally decides on the safest topic. “So tell me about the wedding.”
Mickey scoffs at the same time Ian laughs and she looks between them until Mickey says, “Long version or short version?”
And is that even a question. “Long,” she says decisively.
As Ian returns to the table with their coffees they regale her with the complicated events leading up to their wedding ceremony – including her dad burning their fucking venue down.
“Have you heard from him since?” she asks, feeling an old anxiety twist around her spine. She can’t say she’s missed Terry Milkovich since she’s been gone.
“Not since he shot up our fuckin’ honeymoon suite,” Mickey mutters and Mandy feels a pang of sympathy for them. It’s about fucking time the two of them just got to be happy with no strings attached.
Before she can say anything though Ian’s hand reaches out to grasp Mickey’s on the table-top and Mickey offers him a small, grateful smile. And it’s these little moments that keep shocking her, really. The causal ways they touch each other or look at each other. The way they keep picking up each other’s sentences as they tell the wedding story.
Everything about their relationship before had felt so life or death, these moments of just being were few and far between.
Eventually the conversation about the wedding winds down and Ian asks her about her job and it’s weird, the three of them having such a grown-up conversation, but every second word out of Mickey’s mouth is still “fuck” and Ian’s still got that puppy-dog grin he used to wear when he was fifteen so maybe things haven’t changed all that much.
Ian gets up when Liam comes home from school, following him up the stairs to help him move whatever he needs out of his bedroom and into Carl’s while Mandy stays over since, “Liam’s room is definitely the cleanest,” and Mandy watches Mickey watch Ian, a soft smile on his lips as he stares after Ian until he’s out of sight.
Mickey’s gaze returns to the table then but the smile is still there. After a second or two of silence Mandy kicks his leg under the table. Mickey’s gaze snaps up to stare at her. “What?”
She feels herself start to smile without actually planning to. “You’re really fucking happy now, huh?”
Mickey’s face goes blank with surprise before that bashful twist to his mouth comes back and he averts his gaze, shrugging once. “I guess.”
“Oh, you guess!” she scoffs, kicking him again. “Jesus Christ, Ian’s dick can’t be that great.”
Mickey smirks then. “Jealous you never got to find out for yourself?”
“Shut up, asshole,” she huffs, laughing in spite of herself. “I’m being serious.”
Mickey makes an incredulous noise and Mandy clears her throat, forcing herself to be sincere. “I mean it, Mick,” she says and his expression smooths out at the earnestness in her voice. “You two really figured shit out.”
Mickey doesn’t say anything for a moment before he breathes out a soft laugh. “I mean it was about fuckin’ time.”
Mandy grins. “No arguments there.”
Mickey looks like he’s about to say more when Ian’s footsteps suddenly sound on the staircase again. “What are you two talking about?” he asks, jogging down the last few steps.
“Just about how Mandy’s still jealous you had sex with me and not her,” Mickey says casually and Mandy lets out a choked noise, reaching over and punching Mickey’s arm as hard as she can.
Ian’s laughing as he comes to stand behind Mickey, hands settling on Mickey’s shoulders like they belong there and Mickey looks from him to Mandy with a shit-eating grin.
“Don’t worry, Mands,” Ian says. “You got to call me your boyfriend first.”
“Ey!” Mickey calls out, affronted, and Ian grins down at him, eyebrows raised in an, Am I wrong? look.
And Mandy’s just- she’s relieved, more than anything. Because they fucking deserve this – all three of them do. They deserve to be able joke about the good shit in their past in the safety of a present that isn’t threatening to take away their future. They deserve some fucking peace of mind.
And as she watches Ian lean down to kiss the top of Mickey’s head before he returns to his seat at the table she thinks it’s probably time to rethink her stance on whether or not Mickey and Ian are going to make it.
*
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