Someone recently left me kudos on this older fic and I thought I’d give it a little tumblr promo post because it’s one of my favourites I’ve written.
Declan Lynch struggles with his feelings towards his father and the concept of fatherhood post-Greywaren (aka I cannot accept declan’s simple happy ending)
3k words | Declan lynch & Ronan Lynch & Matthew Lynch | Declan Lynch/Jordan Hennessy | Brotherhood, fatherhood, father figures
Please find the fic here!
Snippy snip below the cut.
Declan watched as his younger brother’s dipped their fingers into the holy water as they entered the church. They paused and did it quickly, a reflex that came so naturally to them, brushing their foreheads without a second thought.
When Declan got to the font, he kept on walking, eyes straight as he entered the nave. As far as he was concerned, the basin was filled with battery acid and he didn’t want it on his skin.
There was a time before Declan had been angry, then there had been a brief interlude when he had been hopeful and naive like a child. But he lived on a ring road with a one way sign and as he sat down in the same pew he’d sat in a thousand times before, he was angry.
For his brother, Ronan, anger had always been simple. If he was mad about something, he let it fire out of him like rounds off a gun. Fast, deliberate, maximum damage. But Declan had never had that luxury. His anger was a quiet, ugly thing, crawling on its belly to stay hidden. He had a handle on it for the most part, as keeping his brothers safe had relied on it for so long, but it wasn’t concise. It was so all consuming that sometimes when Declan looked in the mirror, he didn’t recognise himself.
He rubbed the silky material of his tie between his thumb and forefinger as the church slowly filled with people. It was a new tie in a shade of midnight blue that Jordan had picked out for him and as he sat silently through mass, he pinched it tightly.
He wasn’t listening to the service, he didn’t even pretend to move his lips when they were invited to stand up and sing. His mind was hyper fixated on his childhood, surrounded by this religion that meant nothing and everything to him at the same time. By the end of mass, he didn’t feel like himself and he kept his eyes down as people got to their feet.
Ronan was speaking and seemed to finish the end of a sentence as Declan tuned in finally, eyes flicking over to him. He sat forward and let his tie go as the congregation were getting up to leave. An hour had passed. His stomach hurt.
“What?” He asked, frowning as he tried to recall what Ronan had been saying under his breath. But he hadn’t been paying any attention, his focus wholeheartedly elsewhere as he stared down the saints in the stained glass lining the walls.
There was a time when Declan believed his father, Niall Lynch had been some kind of saint. A holy warrior sent to protect them, to tell stories, sing songs and raise rambunctious boys.
“I said—“ Ronan started but Matthew cut him off, sat between them, wild blonde hair wrestled into a ponytail at the back of his head.
“Ro, don’t,” he said seriously. His voice didn’t sound like his voice and Declan knew he was the reason for that. He hoped Ronan didn’t notice but one look at his face, a deep groove between his eyebrows as he looked at his little brother, then over at Declan both questioning and accusing, was very telling. Declan averted his eyes, getting to his feet.
In the car, he sat in the passenger seat while Matthew sat in the back and Ronan cleared his throat, looking from one of his brothers to the other, before turning the key to start the engine. As they pulled out of St Agnes onto the road, Ronan’s phone began to ring. He slid down in his seat, straightening one long leg to pull it out of his pocket.
“You’re driving,” Declan reminded him and Ronan sat up, glancing at the caller ID and tossing it into Declan’s lap where it fell between his knees and into the footwell.
“Not my Hennessy,” Ronan said and Declan leaned down, retrieving the phone.
JORDAN, the screen informed him. It rang as he watched it. It rang and he let it vibrate in his grip. Ronan slapped his upper arm with the back of his hand and then it stopped.
until jordan comes around we only know about declan through ronan’s unreliable pov, the gangsey and later declan’s own perception of himself: he’s boring, he’s sad, he’s plain and grey and a manwhore…
and then jordan is just like “Perhaps it was just because she liked looking at him that she thought each pose would make a good one. A series. What a future that idea promised, nights upon nights like this, him sitting there, her standing here” and suddenly she makes declan deserving of love and attention
Chelley and Ace are a solid couple and Ace has always been all about her; just because people find Ace shady doesn't mean they're not a real match, and them knowing each other as acquaintances doesn't change the the trajectory of them in the villa; they're possibly strongest or top 2 strongest matches
Nicolandria is the couple with the most natural chemistry and realistic development, but some people aren't ready for that conversation
Huda is toxic, but some people aren't ready for that conversation; girly has anxious-attachment and unhealthy clingy tendencies that makes relationship conflicts need to be all about her, her, her (and her needs) and she needs to work on that. ptsd doesn't justify it
Iris and Pepe are what people who hate Nicolandria think friends-to-lovers is, when Nicolandria is the real and true display
Amaya and Bryan voters only love Amaya Papaya and that man could be anyone for them to root for them (and it's proven by 2 weeks ago how people were all about Zak). She will be fine and get many brand deals out of this. I just don't understand people who say she and Bryan have such a stronger connection than other islanders when they got together at the same time as Nicolandria and Iris/Pepe
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