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swans-recs · 2 years

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INFLICTED DESIRE

THIS PIECE IS NOT MINE!!! I was asked to reupload this by my friend @jexnrey as she no more wishes to be part of the writer community but she still wants people to be able to read this. PROOF

DO NOT ASK ME FOR PART 2'S FOR THIS OR THE SORT, BECAUSE I DID NOT WRITE THIS AND THE REAL WRITER DOESN'T WRITE HERE ANYMORE!!

If you're interested in my Kaz stuff, it can be found here.

pairings: kaz brekker x fem!reader, platonic!nina zenik x fem!reader

warnings: the normal six of crows shenanigans.

summary: you were simply a crow and nina's closest friend, but kaz doesn't understand why he feels the need to be near you or protect you when you can protect yourself; he is closed off and unreadable, and he couldn't articulate his feelings properly, until you were hurt on the job.

author’s note: kaz is so hard to write—forgive me for this i tried so hard 😭 i read soc carefully & read fanfics about kaz to take some inspo, but enjoy this trash cus i don’t! do not translate or paste this on another platform strictly everything belongs to me, do not claim it as yours, do not plagiarize, thank you.

word count: 2.1k

KAZ BREKKER DID not make mistakes. He was a thief, not a fool, the Dregs’ leader, and Ketterdam’s most notorious man. He had a sharp intellect and was astute; no one ventured to cross him out of fear, or they were rational enough not to.

His plans were meticulous, and if something went wrong (which was unlikely), he had hundreds of backup plans ready to go. And everything went well, but there was a glimmer of realization that Kaz had made the biggest mistake of his life. It was bothering him, and he had a nagging feeling of uneasiness.

If he had merely noted when he met you—charming and intriguing—when he visited the House of the White Rose to inform Nina about a job; he should have simply ignored you when you passed him in the hall without a second glance, but Kaz had been effectively intrigued.

Nina told him that you were her closest friend and the one person in the White Rose who kept her sane. Nina was cautious, with a guarded gleam in her eyes and a reluctance that could get you killed in Ketterdam, when Kaz inquired whether you had any skills.

Nina had given Kaz a sharp gaze and said, “Recruiting her in the Dregs is dangerous.”

“Nina dear,” Kaz drawled. “It’s dangerous everywhere in Ketterdam. And I think your friend would appreciate getting out of here every now and then.”

Nina told Kaz about your bewitching qualities with a little more trepidation. You were charismatic, a pretty face and a cunning smile that could tempt wealthy merchants to give you kruge and a wise convincer. Nina also mentioned that you had good combat skills. Kaz Brekker had smirked at the time, his thoughts racing. He was well aware that he needed you on his team.

That was his very first mistake. You were good at your work—you did a brilliant job and Kaz knew you were a terrific addition to the Dregs—but as the days passed, he began to have an underlying feeling inside him that he quickly dismissed whenever you were there. Kaz often wondered if he should have heeded Nina’s advice about not recruiting you in the Dregs, but he’d been blinded by his curiosity, and he bitterly regretted it.

He recalled one mission in which they were meant to spy on a handful of Pekka Rollins’ men. Kaz remembered how meticulously he had prepared for this; he had gone over blueprints over and again until his eyes were weary, but he would not rest—never. Kaz was scrupulous with his plotting especially since it involved Pekka Rollins.

When there’s a lovely girl around and they’re inebriated, men are simple to seduce. So, of course, your main task was to play the inquisitive girl, allowing men to reveal their drunken secrets while you sat, looking pretty. Despite the fact that you were skilled in this vicinity, Kaz didn’t like the plan, but he needed Inej on the roofs and Nina by the door, so you were left as an option.

As he saw you woo one of Rollins guys, he felt a prickling sensation inside him. You were dressed in a velvety white dress that accentuated your contours; you stood out in the darkness of Ketterdam, and you shone brightly. Kaz may not believe in Saints, but he was convinced you were one by the radiance of your smile and dress.

He despised seeing you sitting on a drunk Dime Lion man’s lap, and Kaz noticed you looked uneasy, so he fought the impulse to smash the man’s head with his cane until his skull cracked satisfyingly. He reminded himself that this was a job, and he needed to do his part. Despite your unsettled expression, he could see your ears perk up, and that’s when Kaz recognized the man had begun to speak.

Kaz watched you giggling and touching the man’s forearm while drinking your drink; you were playing your part wonderfully as usual. And it all happened very quickly; when the drunken man leaned close to you, another man approached him to stop him, and Kaz realized the man knew who you were.

The man had said something to the inebriated man, and the latter had suddenly sobered up, and Kaz realized chaos had occurred. Because of the drink you drank, you appeared tipsy, but Kaz could see how your eyes flared in terror and your gaze immediately darted to him.

Kaz had set out on foot to get you, but Nina had beaten him to it. Nina had grasped your wrist and pulled you away in alarm before the man could grab you. Shots were being fired, and Kaz could see Jesper rousing his revolters to fire back at the men who were shooting at you and now at Jesper.

Kaz was so concentrated on the men and the bullets that he missed you limping in Nina’s arms as he pulled his own gun. Nina wore a worried expression on her face and was essentially bearing half your weight. And Kaz could see it: there was blood on your abdomen that was obvious and evident through the white of your dress. As Kaz focused on you, gunshots faded into the background, and he was startled out of his reverie when Jesper told them to leave.

He didn’t normally listen to Jesper because he was the one who gave the directions and commands, but now his feet followed Jesper’s, his leg jerking in pain as he hobbled, yet his step was swift. He remembered the blood on your adobem, the way Nina’s eyes widened, and he was filled with dread. It was terrifying. Since Jordie, he hasn’t felt like this in years.

Kaz knew Inej was close behind him, quiet and concealed like the Wraith she is, as his Crows hurried to the Slat. As you limped beside Nina, Kaz could see you being held by her, and he turned to Jesper, a sensation inside him that he didn’t want to convey.

“Run after Nina,” Kaz ordered coldly. “Help her with Y/N.”

Jesper didn’t need to say anything else as he ran to Nina, and when he caught up with both girls, he grabbed your waist and helped half of your weight as Nina and Jesper carried you to the Slat. Kaz despised hearing a hint of fragility in his voice, but Jesper didn’t seem to mind.

···

It didn’t matter to Kaz if Nina could hear his rapid heartbeat. Kaz saw that the others were watching him as his eyes swept you laying on your bed with Nina mending your wound. Even though your face was pale and your breathing was unsteady, you were alive, Kaz was not soothed. Despite her concerns, Nina had been firm, requesting medical equipment from Matthias, who had followed orders.

Kaz isn’t concerned about the Rollins information right now; all he wants is for you to be alright. He remembered your eyes widening in panic and searching for his first. He swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head, focusing on you instead. And there was so much blood, Kaz gripped his cane tightly in his fist.

“Heal her,” he murmured.

Nina gave him a cold stare. “I’m trying, Kaz, but there’s just too much blood.”

“I don’t care,” Kaz said icily, his gaze matching hers. “Zenik, heal her.”

Inej had left, but not before praying to her Saints for you to be well. Jesper walked away as well, noticing the gloom in Kaz’s voice and Nina’s gaze. Matthias was retrieving more medical supplies, creating a tense atmosphere with only a feverish Kaz, an anxious but indignant Nina, and an alive yet barely Y/N.

“You should leave, I’ll get to you once I’m done,” Nina remarked as she resumed working in your wounded abdomen.

Kaz stood firm in his position. “I’m not going anywhere.”

With a shake of her head, Nina replied, “Your heartbeat is distracting me.” Kaz noticed her hand quivering. “I can sense your nerves, Brekker, and it doesn’t help that I’m worried about her as well.”

He was terrified; he had shown vulnerability, and Nina had noticed. She knew he cared about you, and he had never experienced anything like it with anybody else. When Inej was stabbed, Jesper was shot, or Matthias, Wylan, and Nina were hurt, Kaz’s heart didn’t rush as rapidly. It was always you who made his heart race with nerves and a need to protect you if you were harmed.

When Kaz glanced at your hand, palm up, he felt compelled to grasp it. Not Jesper, who had brought you to the Slat, or even Nina, who stroked your hair away from your face every now and then, but he should be the one holding you and aiding you. But Kaz knew that idea alone was impossible; he couldn’t think about it without shivering with distaste, so he stayed, a safe distance away, with a tremendous desire to hold you.

Nina fixed her gaze on him. “I assume she’ll be a little hazy when she wakes up, so don’t ask her any questions about the information.”

“I don’t give a damn about the information,” Kaz remarked indifferently.

Kaz despised the mischievous glimmer in her eyes as she shot him a shocked glance. “Kaz Brekker not caring about the information that’s about Pekka Rollins? Somebody pinch me.”

He gave her a skeptical look as he rolled his eyes. “Keep her alive by doing your work, Nina dear.”

Nina shrugged her shoulders, but her eyes were gloomy. “She’s not dead Kaz,” she said with a shake of her head. “Since the blood loss, she’ll be unconscious, but she’ll be fine—she usually is.”

Kaz nodded in agreement. What Nina said was right; it was not uncommon for someone in the Crows to be hurt—it happens all the time, especially during heists and jobs—but the jobs were mostly successful, and Kaz had been blunt in assigning you the safest task (charming people) because a selfish part of him wanted you to be in the middle of the job so he could keep an eye on you.

But, despite his composed demeanor, he seemed to crumble everywhere around you. Perhaps you had charmed him, as you had charmed so many others, by bewitching him with your entire being, causing his black heart to seek you out. When you were around, there was always an inflicted desire within Kaz, which he had always disregarded until now.

Kaz wanted to kill the man who had touched you, as well as track down the person who had shot you. He remembered your bright eyes dampening in fear and a brief tremor of despair as you realized you’d been caught, then blood splattering across your white dress and Nina’s worried expression as she carried your limping weight.

Nina snarled, “You’re doing it again.”

With his dark eyes, Kaz looked at her. “What?”

“I know you love her and all, but I need to focus, and your heartbeat is incredibly distracting right now,” Nina rambled.

Kaz stilled as he heard the word he didn’t want to associate himself with. “In Ketterdam, love is neglected; it is reserved for the weak.”

Nina surprised him by laughing. “What are you doing right now? Whenever Y/N is hurt, you appear weak—you’re in your vulnerable form.”

Kaz wanted to kill Nina by saying things he knew were true, but he was ignorant and stubborn to accept it. Nina gave him a knowing look as she cleaned, healed, and wrapped a cloth around your wound before kissing you on the forehead and leaving Kaz alone with you.

Kaz strolled over to where you were laying after a few moments of contemplation. He examined your flawless face, which, despite seeming pale and near death, was nonetheless lovely. Kaz paused for a while before raising his gloved palm to your cheek and tucking the errant strand of hair away.

He sat down near your bed, putting his disgust aside. Despite the strong temptation, he did not grasp your inviting hand. Kaz had stayed by your bedside the entire night, never leaving your side. Nina had stopped by every now and then to change your bandage, but she had said nothing about Kaz’s overstaying or even asked him to leave.

When Nina was treating your wound, she had said, “You should rest, Kaz.”

Kaz gave her a sidelong glance. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

Nina may have been right, but she was also wrong. Kaz did not believe he was capable of love, yet he had a great desire to be with you. To be in your company, to receive your gorgeous smile, and to simply be in your presence. And this time he wasn't going to ignore it.

---

And again, this piece is not mine! It was written by my friend, read the info above the fic. Do not ask me for part 2's or ask to be tagged into my Kaz taglist etc, I did not write this and the person who did wishes to not be part of the writer community anymore, but the original piece has been deleted with her deactivated blog so she asked me to reupload.

#kaz brekker x reader #six of crows #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows fanfic #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #jexnrey #oneshot

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canonicallyobserving911 · 2 years

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Buck & Eddie: Breakups-Eddie & Ana vs. Buck & Taylor

Please note: This post includes a detailed analysis of Buck and Eddie’s first-time initiating breakups with their girlfriends.

By the time Buck and Eddie become a romantic canon couple, they will have already experienced a lot of “firsts” together and their first time ‘being in love’ will be experienced with each other. (Blog post title: “Buck & Eddie: Their first time being in love”. But the one thing that’s been missing from their romantic histories is them being the ones to initiate a breakup. In the past Buck’s girlfriends either broke up with him or abandoned him; while Eddie’s estranged wife asked him for a divorce before she died. The journeys they took to arrive at being single by the end of season 5 included some similarities but ultimately their ability to take the first step in breaking up with their girlfriends was a significant milestone for both of them. Since neither of them had initiated a breakup in their past relationships, it was a difficult process but they both persevered through it. Also in order for Eddie to heed Carla’s advice of “Follow your heart, not Christopher’s, ok!” and for Buck to no longer be left behind, the only way their insecurities about being in a relationship would be resolved was for them to be the ones to end it.

Eddie & Ana: “The idea of us”

Eddie and Ana’s relationship was far from interesting and while it was easy to see from the beginning that he was attracted to her in 3x12 “Fools”, it was also easy to see she was a representation of who he believed his parents wanted for him. Based on Eddie’s flashbacks in 3x15 “Eddie Begins”, he never had the chance to express what he wanted because Shannon got pregnant when they were young and his parents urged him to marry her. It wasn’t a coincidence that Eddie asked Ana to go on a date with him in 4x6 “Jinx” because they reconnected not long after he returned from the wildfires in Austin, TX. He told Judd they (Eddie, Buck and Hen) would stop by his parents’ house in El Paso, TX to eat on their way back to L.A. Since Shannon had been dead for more than 1 year, it can be speculated that his parents told him he needed to find a wife and a mother for Christopher (foreshadowing to 4x13 “Suspicion” when Eddie told Carla “Christopher loves having Ana around” and 5x2 “Desperate Times” when Eddie told Buck “My kid loves her!”). Before she arrived for their breakfast date, it’s easy to see that Eddie was uncomfortable while he waited for Ana to arrive. He looked like he was trying to remember “how he was supposed to act in front of a woman” or “how to reapply the mask he had worn with Shannon to keep up that façade of a life he tried to build with her”.

Their date in 4x8 “Breaking Point” was atrocious because it’s obvious Eddie wasn’t interested in her. Actually he was more interested in learning how to do “new math” since they were looking at math problems in a textbook. Ana should have realized then he wasn’t interested but just like Eddie, she appeared to be more interested in the idea of them too. Let’s be real, if a man would rather learn how to do math on a date instead of wanting to jump your bones, then he’s not interested in you. While they were talking, Ana was the one who suggested she could go over to Eddie’s house under the ruse of helping Christopher with his math homework. Eddie hesitated and raised the “protective wall of Eddie Diaz” (this is a wall of protection Eddie keeps around Christopher. He hesitated when Shannon returned before allowing her behind the wall and when he did allow it; he almost instantly regretted it. Buck was allowed behind the wall in 2x2 “7.1” and he brought Carla with him in 2x4 “Stuck”). He said, “I wouldn’t feel right putting you out” which translated means ‘I don’t want you in my house or near my kid’.

They continued to date but there weren’t any fireworks or any sunbeams and moon pies. It was a bland relationship that she wanted to be in more than him and it wasn’t until Christopher was ok with him dating that he started to allow her more access into his home. In 4x13 Carla asked Eddie, “What about dad, how does he feel about the young Miss Flores?” and he replied “It’s nice. It’s easy being with her”. This conversation explained their relationship in its simplest term “EASY”. Red Alert & WTF! If a man describes you as EASY, you should drop his trifling @ss because that’s not how a man should describe his relationship with you when he’s romantically interested. Eddie was NOT invested in her as a romantic partner, he was only looking for a mother for Christopher and he admitted to it during their breakup in 5x3 “Desperate Measures” when he said, “Chris loves you so much.” His comment to her illustrated how Eddie was more concerned about getting Christopher a mother than him getting anything he wanted for himself within their relationship. When Carla said, “I’m glad that you’re moving on. Just make sure you’re following your heart, not Christopher’s ok!” Carla’s comments gave Eddie the kick in the butt he needed because he was willing to “stick it out” just for Christopher’s sake. Realization was all over his face and when Christopher and Ana re-entered the room, Eddie’s facial expression showed he was missing Buck when Carla said, “it’s a good thing we have a firefighter in the house”. The word firefighter was a trigger for Eddie (hindsight to 3x4 “Triggers” when Eddie was checking out Buck’s butt).

Before he started the breakup conversation, Eddie’s real persona came out while they were sitting at the dining room table eating all those muffins right before he said, “Maybe you should go home first!”. How you may be asking? Well it was the look on his face when she fed Christopher a berry from her fork like he was a baby bird, that pissed him off. It looked like he wanted to say ‘Don’t feed my kid, you’re not his mother’.

This was the same version of Eddie who yelled at her in 3x12 “Fools” when Christopher fell off the skateboard. During their breakup conversation Eddie said, “I thought it would work. The idea of us. Chris loves you so much. I just thought…” and Ana interjected, “that eventually you would too.” The funny thing is Ana never said she loved Christopher; Eddie was the one who always said it. It was like he was projecting his unresolved belief that Shannon really did love Christopher even though she didn’t want to be his mother onto Ana. Ana said a lot of things about Christopher but she never said she loved him. She called Christopher “a very sensitive boy” in 4x8 “Breaking Point” and before that she insinuated that he had limitations in 3x12 “Fools”.

The lack of intimacy in their relationship was very telling because it appeared he was forcing himself to want to be with her. The looks he gave her were far different from the “heart eyes” he always directs at Buck. Also her relationship with Christopher was very different from the one Buck has with him. Eddie said in 5x2 “Desperate Times”, “He takes Christopher there (the zoo-hindsight to 3x3 “The Searchers” when Eddie told Buck to take Christopher to the zoo since it was inland) all the time, he’s got the whole place memorized” which means he emphatically trusts Buck to take Christopher out alone. Which is also in direct contrast to how Ana was allowed to only watch Christopher at Eddie’s house during the blackout. Eddie had to be the one to breakup with Ana for two reasons: (1) to avoid sticking it out and (2) so that he could pursue what he wanted for himself. He admitted to Buck in 5x2 that he was just going to “stick it out” and stay with her for Christopher’s sake. If he hadn’t broken it off with her, he would have remained in a relationship that neither he nor Ana were invested in. Also in 5x17 “Hero Complex”, when his father asked if he was “trying to be better for Christopher”, Eddie said, “I’m doing it for myself”. He’s finally learning through therapy that it’s ok to want something for himself even if it’s different from what his parents or anyone else wants for him.

Buck & Taylor: “Trust issues”

Buck and Taylor’s relationship experienced trust issues from the start because not long after they met in 2x6 “Dosed”, Buck learned he couldn’t trust her. She weaseled her way into the firehouse to do a story on them but when they were dosed with a hallucinogen (except Chimney), she had her cameraman keep filming Bobby even when he went up to the roof and almost committed suicide. Therefore it’s beyond comprehension as to why Buck pursued a relationship with her in season 4 after she had already hurt his found family. They didn’t trust her then and they still don’t especially after 5x17 “Hero Complex” and it seems like they only tolerated her because of Buck. Eddie showed his dislike for her from the beginning while she was flirting with Buck in 2x6. He raised up off that bench and walked towards them. When he started to speak, that’s when she realized there was something more than friendship between Buck and Eddie and her cameraman caught it all on film. That’s probably the reason why she wouldn’t pursue Buck in season 4 until Eddie was in a coma. Initially they were attracted to each other and based on their one night stand they had in a dirty bar bathroom in 2x8 “Buctually”, that was all it would have ever been. He told Bobby he didn’t want to be that guy anymore (Buck 1.0 who would have sex in firetrucks and only did one-night stands) so he went to apologize to her. She obviously only wanted another hook-up with him, so she invited him into the news van and while they were getting ready to have sex, her phone buzzed with a breaking news story (foreshadowing to 5x1 “Panic” because while they were in bed, she climbed off of him after unlocking his phone with his face for the blackout story). So she jumped off of him and left him standing in the parking lot with his pants unzipped.

Taylor didn’t reappear until season 4 and when Buck saw her, he told her he wanted to be in a “meaningful relationship” and she replied, “your life is filled with meaningful relationships”. It seemed like Buck would have pursued a relationship with anyone since Eddie had just started dating Ana. Buck was single throughout seasons 3 and 4 until 4x14 “Survivors” when Taylor finally said she wanted him. Actually he wasn’t thinking about dating again especially after the nightmare date he had with Veronica; therefore when he invited Taylor to have dinner with him, Albert and Veronica in 4x8 “Breaking Point”, she was the one who misunderstood the invite. Buck invited her as a friend but she called him “needy” and embarrassed him in front of Veronica and Albert by saying “he has a problem with strong women”. Even after all that stupidity, he kept trying to date her and at the end of 4x12 “Treasure Hunt”, just like all the times before she friend zoned him. She didn’t tell Buck she wanted to be with him until 4x14 “Survivors” while Eddie was conveniently in a coma after being shot. She took advantage of Buck’s vulnerability and used it against him. He was traumatized at the thought of losing Eddie, so she played her schoolgirl games to get him to be with her.

She ran away after kissing him and she got upset when he didn’t chase her. The truth is when she ran away, he got a call that Eddie was awake so guess what, he ran to Eddie. She returned and told him she wanted to be with him after he said, “I spent a long time feeling like I wasn’t enough so if you don’t want me”. Then she said, “Oh, I want you”. By the time Eddie was being released from the hospital, Buck and Taylor were something. In 5x1 “Panic” the issue of trust between the two of them was very present when she unlocked his phone via facial recognition by putting his phone in front of his face while he was vulnerable yet again (hindsight to 4x14 when she kissed him while he was vulnerable and hurt about Eddie being shot). He thought they were about to get down to business but as usual her job was her number one priority.

Throughout the remainder of 5A, their relationship or whatever it was continued to be entombed in his loft. They never went out and she slowly started to move her junk into his place. In 5x9 “Past is Prologue” he thought she was going to breakup with him and he didn’t seem to be to pressed about it. He chased her to Oklahoma after he said he wouldn’t do that anymore. When they returned to L.A., she said, “I love you” and he responded with “good, love you too”. Their relationship or whatever it was wasn’t built on trust or love. It was actually a situation where they were both clinging to each other.

In 5x11 “Outside Looking In” Buck kissed Lucy and didn’t tell Taylor about it until 5x13 “Fear-O-Phobia” after he asked her to move in at the end of 5x11. She said he trapped her and he couldn’t see how he did it but as usual TRUST was at the center of their issues. She ran away again but he didn’t chase her. She was back at the loft when he returned home from work and they said they would work to move past it. Buck ran to Eddie again at the end of 5x13 after Christopher called him so that makes two times he didn’t chase her but he ran to Eddie without hesitation. By 4x14 “Dumb Luck” their relationship or whatever it was turned into a “quid pro quo” type of deal since they were exchanging favors, you do this for me and I’ll do this for you. Finally the ultimate betrayal happened in 5x17 “Hero Complex” when Hen and Chimney told Buck and Taylor about Jonah. They were hesitant to tell her anything but Buck assured them they could trust her and she said “off the record”.

She didn’t mean it and just like always her job came first. He made her promise she wouldn’t run the story and she did it anyway. While she waited until Jonah had been arrested, she was the first reporter who had all the details and she reported on it while Jonah was being arrested (if you want to know why what she did was wrong, read blog post “Buck & Taylor: Here’s why they are headed for a breakup”. After being interrogated by Chief Alonso regarding his relationship with Taylor; a conversation with Bobby; the constant side eyes from his found family; a conversation with Eddie and a final one with Maddie, Buck finally realized he needed to end his relationship or whatever with Taylor. During their breakup conversation she reminded him of who she always was by saying, “You knew who I was when you started dating me” and he said, “I thought I could learn to live with it”. Mistrust was the thing they started hooking up on in a bar bathroom and it was the same thing they ended on in Buck’s loft.

Buck had to be the one to end their relationship for two reasons: (1) Taylor was never going to change and (2) Buck had to learn that it’s ok for him to expect more from a relationship than just sex. Buck spent the majority of his relationships being abandoned even after they showed him with their actions it was over. In his eyes Taylor was supposed to be different because he thought she would change for him. However when he finally realized that they were doing the same thing over and over again after his conversation with Maddie, he had an “Ah ha” moment. He knew she wasn’t going to change so he had to end it.

Buck and Eddie are finally in a place where they’ve learned that it’s ok to want better for themselves. Neither of them have to settle or stick it out just because it’s all that’s being offered to them. Maybe during season 6 they will realize the thing they’ve been searching for in a romantic relationship has been staring them in the face all along. Once they get past being hesitant, maybe one of them will take the leap so that they can begin their lives as more than work partners.

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steveezekiel · 1 month

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A FRIENDLY RELATIONSHIP 1

"THERE are “friends” who pretend to be friends, BUT THERE IS A FRIEND WHO STICKS CLOSER THAN A BROTHER."

Proverbs 18:24 (the Living Bible)

• I would be sharing about friendly relationship, a relationship between friends.

- To a certain extent, whatever a person would become in life, would be through relationships.

- God created mankind a relationally being. It might be difficult to do any appreciable thing without one good relationship or another.

- Your rising in life would by and large be through the godly relationships which God has orchestrated to be around you.

- Some had gotten to good places in life through some relationship of friends which they found themselves in, whilst some are regretting where they are today through some wrong friendships or relationships which they cultivated.

- Some had lost their lives, fortunes or businesses, marriages, and whatever, through the wrong companionship, or friendship, or relationship, which they cultivated: "DO not be DECEIVED: “EVIL COMPANY CORRUPTS GOOD HABITS" (1 Corinthians 15:33 NKJV).

- The Bible warns that any ungodly friendship or relationship should be done with:

17 THEREFORE “Come out from among them And be separate, says the Lord.

DO NOT TOUCH WHAT IS UNCLEAN, And I will receive you.” 18 “I WILL BE A FATHER TO YOU, AND YOU SHALL BE MY SONS AND DAUGHTERS, SAYS THE LORD ALMIGHTY" (2 Corinthians 6:17,18 NKJV).

• Examples of wrong friendly relationship that led to regret and sorrows.

I. Amnon, David's first son had inordinate affection towards his half sister who happened to be Absalom's sister of the same mother.

- A friend of Amnon counsel and encourage him to do the heinous act that eventually cost him his life:

3 BUT Amnon had a FRIEND whose name was Jonadab the son of Shimeah, David’s brother. NOW JONADAB WAS A VERY CRAFTY MAN. 4 And he said to him, “Why are you, the king’s son, becoming thinner day after day? Will you not tell me?” Amnon said to him, “I love Tamar, my brother Absalom’s sister.” 5 So Jonadab said to him, “LIE DOWN ON YOUR BED AND PRETEND TO BE ILL. And when your father comes to see you, say to him, ‘Please let my sister Tamar come and give me food, and prepare the food in my sight, that I may see it and eat it from her hand’ ”(2 Samuel 13:3-5 NKJV).

- This friend of Amnon counsel him how to commit incest with his half-sister. Amnon heeded the counsel of his friend and lost his life as a result of it (2 Samuel 13:28,29).

- This same Jonadab was the one who gave the narrative, the details of what happened, when Amnon was slain or killed by Absalom:

"BUT just then JONADAB, the son of David’s brother Shimea, arrived and said, “No, don’t believe that all the king’s sons have been killed! IT WAS ONLY AMNON! ABSALOM HAS BEEN PLOTTING THIS EVER SINCE AMNON RAPED HIS SISTER TAMAR" (2 Samuel 13:32 NLT).

- This wrong friendly relationship of Amnon led to his untimely and gruesome death. When he had that evil Desire in his heart, If he had a good friend who could tell him the truth, such would have dissuaded him from doing such a thing, and he would not have wasted his life—ended his life the way he did.

- Some Believers who claimed to be born-again are in some friendly relationship that Encourage them to wallow in Sin.

- Any unholy friendly relationship can cost you your life, your relationship or fellowship with God, and the fulfilment of your God-given Purpose in life.

II. Rehoboam, King Solomon's son who succeeded him.

- Rehoboam lost his privilege to rule over the entire nation of Israel, because of the wrong counsel given to him by his friends, which he heeded:

"BUT Rehoboam REJECTED the ADVICE of the OLDER MEN and instead asked the OPINION of the YOUNG MEN who had GROWN UP WITH HIM and were now HIS ADVISERS" (1 Kings 12:8 NLT).

- The people of Israel came to Rehoboam who succeeded his father, Solomon; for him to lighten the burden placed on them during his father's regime. The people poised to be his loyal subjects If he did consider the plea or the polite request they brought to him (1 Kings 12:4-7).

- Rehoboam chose to listen and heed the advice or the opinion of the young men, his friends, which was a wrong counsel.

HE lost his grip on the kingdom of Israel, ten out the twelve tribes in Israel revolted and spilt or break off As a result of the unwise decision of HIS (1 Kings 12:12-19).

READ: 1 King 12:1-19

- If you had the privilege of leading in any capacity, endeavour to cultivate or surround yourself with godly relationships—the godly people, who would be able to tell you the truth.

- Those who have the fear of God. Those who wanted you to succeed in whatever God has assigned you to do.

- When you find yourself in an enviable position, some people who are around you might be counselling you, doing whatever they are doing with pretensions, and negative motives, to cause your downfall:

15 IT'S true that SOME ARE PREACHING OUT OF JEALOUSY AND RIVALRY. But OTHERS PREACH about Christ WITH PURE MOTIVES. 16 THEY preach BECAUSE they LOVE ME [Paul], for they know I have been appointed to defend the Good News. 17 THOSE OTHERS DO NOT HAVE PURE MOTIVES as they PREACH about CHRIST. THEY PREACH WITH SELFISH AMBITION, NOT SINCERELY, INTENDING TO MAKE MY CHAINS MORE PAINFUL TO ME. 18 But that doesn’t matter. Whether their motives are false or genuine, the message about Christ is being preached either way, so I rejoice. And I will continue to rejoice" (Philippians 1:15-18 NKJV).

READ: 2 Timothy 4:10,16,17

- Whatever friendly relationship that would not help you in your God-given assignment should be quitted, halted or desisted.

- If your friendship relationship with someone is parasitic, let the friendship be stopped.

- Also, any relationship that would not help you, As a Believer, to be what God wanted you to be, should be done away with.

• You will not fail in Jesus' name.

- Whatever is contrary to your health is rebuked and uprooted in Jesus' name.

Peace! TO BE CONTINUED

#christianity #gospel #christian living #christian blog #the bible #devotion #jesus #my writing #faith #prayer

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alyjojo · 2 years

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Advice to Work on Yourself 🍎 in September 2022: Leo

4 Cups - Knight of Cups - 2 Wands

Regarding: 6 Cups

In the past, someone was interested in you romantically. Probably casually, a crush, enough to let you know. They could be a Capricorn or earth sign, or are someone very practical & down to earth, responsible, a hardworking kind of personality. Your response was to not take them up on some small, but genuine, offer. They could’ve asked you out, or flirted a little, whatever it was is small but it was enough to let you know they like you. You were terrified and indecisive, not at all ready to commit to someone (probably anyone), in no frame of mind to even be able to offer something to anyone in terms of a stable relationship, which you knew was this person’s goal. I can’t tell if you’re still in contact, I assume so, and now you’re beating yourself up over not having given this person the chance you should have. You want to tell them you’re interested and probably don’t know how to. Your advice is to take all things in consideration before you just rush in with some love offer. But, after you’ve considered enough, it’s most likely you’re going to rush in with a love offer. Wheel of Fortune shows outcomes being totally different between everyone of course, but taking a risk is worth it, and your animal card says it’s time for an adventure. No use regretting what may not really be lost.

Animal Oracle: Emu 🐦

“This is a good time to go on a new adventure.”

Your sense of adventure is calling you. Can you hear it? Listen to your heart of hearts - the still small voice that whispers to you of holy and exotic places and if the pleasure of discovering the unfamiliar and novel, feeling confident and trusting in your instincts and intuition to guide you on your journey. Let this be a wandering pilgrimage, one where you can be appreciative of whatever circumstances you encounter and make the best of them. Have some idea of where and what you’ll be doing, but don’t be attached to the plan. Instead, be willing to adjust your itinerary as you are so guided.

Dismiss the voice that says “Yeah sounds good, but I can’t do that because…” This kind of thinking not only limits you by always keeping you in the illusion of comfort and safety, but also leads you to avoiding the real life drama that comes from stretching your comfort zone. You do not need to do so in a way that puts you in any real danger, as there are many options where risk is minimal, yet the thrill and excitement of exploration is still there. So heed the calling, and first believe that it’s possible for you to act on it. And don’t wait too long. Life is too short.

Artist Oracle: CHARLES & RAY EAMES

- Design your days - don’t plan them.

- Aspire to profound practicality.

- Be unbending in your flexibility.

Advice:

- Add Your Neighbors to Your Community

- Knowledge is Power

Charms:

Fractal Moon 🌙 on 2 Wands shows different situations between everyone, and many different variables to consider. Are they with someone else? Are you? Are you still in contact? Did it end well the first time? More positive answers to these will probably be the most likely to flip the situation around. Others may be left up to karma, circumstance, and divine timing. If this person is not going to work out, and you’re just being nostalgic, Ace of Cups could be showing someone else that’s new, maybe they remind you of this other person, and you should take the chance on them that you didn’t or couldn’t before.

#leo tarot reading #advice to work on yourself #september 2022 #Leo #tarot

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yourghastlycloseness · 2 years

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how to make your dog a puppy again

honestly i was in such a bad headspace while kai was a pup that i never got to fully enjoy it. rmb reading a redditor who said she was so occupied with just trying to keep her puppy alive that puppyhood flew by in an instant; same thing happened to me—she did advise all new puppy owners to take as many photos and videos as possible. heeded the advice, but still, what i have isn’t enough. you just don’t get time back that way. not that i regret anything i did or didn’t do with puppy kai. i’m never nostalgic about the past in this sense. or maybe i don’t like to think about what i did wrong. early puppyhood was actually a nightmare. but kai was also the cutest pup. give me back the cutes without the nightmare

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ballorawan740 · 3 years

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SCP Scenarios: When they accidentally kill you

Requested by: okokok121 + @RitaRoseFromBBB

(Ok, I know you did ask for the doctors + Mikell and Strelnikov, but I've decided to add the SCPs in here if that's alright with you. And also, sorry if I didn't capture Strelnikov's attitude well as I'm not as familiar with him compared to Mikell, yet again I'm not familiar with Jack Bright's family other than TJ and 321)

Sorry if it wasn't up to your standards. I just felt that some of these characters weren't the type to kill the reader, even if it wasn't intentional.

WARNING: Slight Angst

Dr Simon Glass

Simon wouldn't be the one to accidentally kill you himself, but it's more of the situation he put you in without realising the full extent of the consequences. He was just busy writing his patients' reports, and you just strolled in his office to check upon him. Simon stopped what he was doing and smiled with you as you both ate your food in his ever so clean office. As you were about to leave, Glass requested you to deliver something to Jack Bright in which you did. You and Jack were close friends (not so surprising since you're both equally as mad as each other) so if Simon wanted to know where he is or if he needed to give him something, he would go to you first. You managed to deliver the parcel to Bright in 682's containment cell and you both laughed before you returned. Unfortunately, 682 was having a rough day due to being a subject to Bright's test (I would be too tbh) which caused him to become more aggressive than usual and attacked 3 researchers. One of them being you as 682 dragged you down to the acid bath with him and Jack rushed to save you. Bright wasn't able to and he had to fulfil;l his duty to tell Simon Glass that you passed as 682 had killed you during a test. Needless to say, Glass was forced to take time off with Bright due to this event and he became more distant for months to come. Bright had to keep it together just so Simon wouldn't have to lose the shred of sanity he had in him.

Dr Jack Bright

You and Bright were doing some tests on one of the more dangerous SCPs (no, it's not that giant mf lizard of that warrior killing machine) in which your job was to handle these creatures while Jack was doing all the lab stuff. The SCP you both were conducting your research on was ●●|●●●●●|●●|● (SCP 2521 - We're getting ripped tonight, RIP my friends) and you were doing all sorts of things which resulted in you summoning this creature out of the blue by accident. Bright had to drag you out away from the creature and you just stood there observing its behaviour until it noticed you. Jack Bright had to take you on the run yet again (cuz you do be stoopid and stubborn so all yall wanna do is stare at something that's gonna kill ya. JUST RUN BIATCH!!!) but the SCP managed to catch up with you both and snatched you before Bright could even get help. Jack was astonished and deeply depressed since the incident and was left increasingly agitated after every walking day and even Glass couldn't get him out of his shell. He would pretend that everything's fine, but deep down, everyone knows that he's not (that's a whole ass mood right there buddy). Bright was extremely guilty for making you research 2521 and tried to summon it again, but all other scientists stopped it.

Dr Alto Clef

Clef was just doing his job, managing all the Keter class SCPs with ease and without hesitation. You know this from first-hand experience on your very first day on the job 3 years ago and Clef took an interest in you so he took you under his wing. So on this mission, he's on, he wanted to take you with him so you went along (not like you'd say no to this madman anyways right?). It was a breach on one of the sites with a sh- ton of Keter class SCPs and your jobs were to exterminate/neutralise them and save all the other researchers in which your team did do well and were still alive. You on the other hand were killed in action by SCP 939 (NOW WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS RELEASED MY PETS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?!). Clef wasn't able to save you on time, but he managed to kill 2 of those SCPs. When he got back, he hid in his office and was depressed for 23.3 weeks and when he managed to drag himself out, he was bawling his eyes out. He deeply regretted taking you on a mission with him and swore an oath that if he were to ever take another person under his wing (probs in like 50 years), he would do anything in his power to not take them on a life-threatening mission.

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

You were out with Kondraki, just laying on the grass like you normally do as you just watched Kondraki take photographs of various and random stuff. Not long later, you asked him if he could teach you how to become such an avid photographer like him, so he did. However, little did you and Kondraki know that his butterfly friends felt danger lurking around the area you were in and quickly transformed into a threatening SCP to defend you both. Lurking around the woods were uncontained 939s running loose on the ground in which the booterflies attacked it. One of the red lizards was ready to pounce onto Kondraki to which you ran and pushed him out of the way (BAD DOGGO ))),:<). Luckily he was unharmed, but you, on the other hand, was heavily injured so Kondraki rushed you back to the foundation's medic. You died there shortly after and Kondraki blamed himself for getting you hurt on a harmless visit to the woods for some photographs. Bright and Clef begged Glass to do some psychological evaluation on Kondraki despite him telling them that he needs some time alone before he could do such things.

O5 Council Mikell Bright

When you're with Mikell, he would be his true self, being honest and relaxed since you're his most trusted partner. Moreover, he would tell you everything about what the O5 Council has been doing and their top secrets and you would always keep your lips sealed. The other members are wary of this at first but soon warm up to you since you're one of the most trusted individuals. Being with the cowboy is quite entertaining and you'll be quite protected being with him, so most of the time, you get free reign over the foundation, however, you still had to obey the rules as you weren't exactly a member of the O5 council and that would also help you from making people think you're sus for being treated so differently. That day was one of the days where your freedom got the better of you as you were on a mission with Mikell and he was about to aim at the target until you pushed him out of the way from danger. He quickly gained his composure and tried to shoot the anomaly behind you which he missed and shot you instead. Mikell was in shock and tried to get the medics, but by the time they arrived, you've already passed. Jack had to check up on his brother regularly to see how he's doing and to make sure he doesn't fall off the edge, reminding him that you wouldn't want to see him this way.

Agent Dmitri Arkadeyevich Strelnikov

As an agent, Strelnikov's life and his closest friends and relatives would be on the line. He wouldn't know when, where or how he would die and is in constant fear of losing everyone around him, especially you. One time, he took you on a mission with him since you were trained under him and he felt that you were ready to go onto your first-ever mission (well too bad, it's your last mission since y'all just suck at your jobs and this poor man has to drag you up from hell and y'all just fall back in) and so you guys went and attempted to gain information and track down some SCPs. Dmitri had to save you a few times since you didn't heed his advice and looked behind your back and that one time he left you on your own, you were murdered by a ruthless group from one of the GOIs. This, of course, deeply saddened agent Strelnikov as he was washed away by the guilt he had from leaving you to stand by your own 2 feet. You were a bright and gentle person who always looked up to him, always eager to learn and never want to fail him. These traits are what drew you to him and he was hoping to have you on his team permanently, however, that dream was long gone (just like your non-existent brain cells trying to keep your life together so y'all don't do stupid things) as you were snatched away from him in an instant. He wrote the report once he went back to the foundation and locked himself up for so long the doctors had to get him out (like your guardians whenever you don't wake up in the mornings).

Extras:

SCP 073 (Cain)

You and Cain were strolling around site 17 until a containment breach happened. Cain had to drag you by your arm since you froze (like a deer in headlights XD) and didn't react to anything since you were afraid. Luckily you did manage to get your senses back together and ran with him. Not long later, a Keter class SCP came charging at you and in a panic, Cain pushed you aside without a glance which caused another SCP to kill you since you were blocking the way. He looked over to you to see that you were wounded, lifted you up, and found a medic. Cain blamed himself for not looking carefully and had he done that, you wouldn't be dying. By the time the medic and you both arrived, you were already at the brink of death and when 343 finally arrived, you were long gone. 343 had to calm 073 down from trying to seek revenge once again but he can't due to the overwhelming guilt he had on him. 343 managed to ease his mind a bit which caused him to blackout. The researchers had to put him under their watchlist to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid (like you when you're studying for your important exams).

SCP 076 (Abel)

It was a normal day for you and Abel to hang around until this one mf guard angered Abel to which caused a containment breach. He went on a rampage (you do be here like Hercules! Hercules! XD) in which you had to try and calm him down. By the time you went to the main part of the facility, you saw many of the D-classes and researchers beheaded (like the previous queens in- never mind). When you had found Abel attempting to slaughter a guy, you jumped in front of the victim and by the time Abel realised that you were there, his sword cut you open in half (KO! 10 points to Gryffindor). He was overwhelmed with guilt and anxiety about him killing you by accident and returned to his box as demanded by the MTF members. The scientists noticed a change in Abel's behaviour and never questioned it. Those who knew what had happened never mentioned it in fear of another breach and left him be.

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

It was an ideal Saturday night at the foundation. You and our adorable 999 was wandering around the facility minding your own business until some madman came charging into the foundation. The alarm for the breach went on and everyone was confused since there weren't any dangerous SCPs on the loose. As it turns out, it was an intruder from one of the other GOIs trying to kidnap some of the SCPs. You and 999 just so happened to be in the exact same spot as the intruder and was holding a weapon of some sort. Realising what's happening, 999 pushed you out of the way just as the intruder fired her weapon which missed you both. One of the agents caught up with both of you and tried to shoot the intruder but ended up shooting you just as you got up which killed you. 999 never greeted any visitors in his cell ever again for quite some time and the researchers attempted to bribe him but failed.

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

You were requested to take part in a test with 682 and another Keter class SCP in a test room and your job was to make sure 682 weren't allowed to lash out at the researchers because of this test. However, this certain Keter class SCP has decided that it wants to attack you in which 682 shoved you aside to protect you. The researchers ran in to save you but the other SCP managed to pounce on you and suffocated you to the brink of death. 682 was about to take a chonki bite out of that SCP but instead, he bit you instead, killing you instantly. He regretted every decision he has ever made and never attacked the foundation staff for months.

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

This doctor was just minding his own business until some dumbass researchers rushed into his room like some fanboys trying to get their noona's signatures. 049 was entertained by this remark but was soon agitated as they disturbed his work and wouldn't leave him alone. So, 049 used his lethal touch on some of the researchers as the rest ran. Luckily, they ran into you, so you managed to calm down the angri bird doctor. Unfortunately, that didn't go as planned as he had mistaken you as one of the other fanboys and stabbed you right into your heart. As soon as he had realised what he's done, he rushed you into his cell and performed surgery on you. Mid-surgery, he soon realised that you were losing too much blood and died right then and there. He mourned for quite some time as the other researchers were severely punished as it had led to your death which could've been avoided.

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Like the other SCPs mentioned in the list, there was a test that resulted in your death. 035 was instructed to change to another human as the black goo was secreted from the mask and so he obeyed as you were slouching by the corner of the test room. Except for this time, it is being worn by a taller and more muscular man who was a wanted man due to his former job as a mercenary. As the researchers watched intently, the mask soon felt slightly overpowered but was resolved quickly due to his evergrowing abilities and experience in possessing those who come near it or is wearing the mask. The mask spoke of the discomfort of being overpowered to which the researchers took note of this statement and watched. You were somewhat concerned to you went closer to your beloved partner to check up on him. However, upon coming closer to 035, he switched his usual persona to the man wearing it, becoming more aggressive and unable to control this body, killing the first person he sees, which was you. This stunned the researchers as the guards tried to pry him off you. When they managed to get him off, you were no longer breathing. In the next interview with 035, he displayed extreme guilt and sadness of his inability to possess the man well enough to control him fully and made a request for him to be left alone for a while.

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

You both met up during the breach a few steps away from 096's cell. He was wandering around to find you while covering his elongated face. All the other researchers were outside trying their best to stay calm and deal with this massive breach until they just saw 096 walking about looking for someone. It instantly clicked in their mind and offered to look for you as long as he goes back to his cell afterwards to which he agreed. Upon finding you, another SCP was attempting to attack you but was soon neutralised by the other MTFs. 096 managed to push you away beforehand but his throw was so strong that you died on the impact when you fell to the ground (you really did get yeeted lmao). As 096 and the others ran towards you to make sure you were ok, you had stopped breathing and 096 screamed in sadness which flooded the whole field. As he was contained back to his cell, they noticed a small detail about 096 which was him wailing every now and again about your death.

SCP 105 (Iris)

You and Iris were just strolling down site 17 to meet with Cain and Dr James Dantensen. Once you've arrived at the agreed location within site 17, you guys were just catching up with old times and sharing your memories and stories about your everyday lives. However, this jolly moment only lasted for so long as someone had breached the containment to target you as you were close to a lot of the SCPs, especially the humanoid ones. As you, along with the others, ran to safety, the enemy caught up with you and threatened you for your knowledge of the SCPs. Iris finally caught up with you just in time to see the commotion and shoved you out of the way. Cain managed to shield you from another guy who attempted to shoot you in which Iris retaliates by throwing a knife back, but instead, injured you instead. She ran over and screamed as you slowly blacked out. Cain had to carry you over as Dantensen was calling the medics and you barely managed to survive. During your days in the hospital, the suspect managed to suffocate you which alarmed everyone. During the days that followed, Iris had been seeking out revenge as Cain tried to make her stay calm and think more rationally.

SCP 106 (Old Man)

It was another day spending some time in 106's pocket dimension as you relaxed with him. You both talked about your past experiences and the obstacles you both had overcome. Once you both were done relaxing (aka never you lazy catto so get up and do something useful for once cuz I don't wanna see yall get screamed at by your family and non-existent friends (jk jk i hope they're treating you well)), 106 took you back to his containment cell and just sat there as the researchers looked at you both blankly. 096 caused a containment breach which, of course, freed you both from 106's cell and you made a run for it (RUN FOREST RUN!). As you and 096 came into contact, 106 tried to put himself between the both of you, knowing what 096 was capable of. Unfortunately, this resulted in 106 being attacked and you died from looking at his face (wear a damn mask 096, you're in the middle of a pandemic). Saddened by the news, 106 seek revenge but was briefly neutralised and shipped to another facility so it wouldn't cause another breach due to his rage.

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

#tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #hurt comfort #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #harry holland

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ghostdrew22 · 3 years

Text

Angel || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No. Pairing: post-war Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: Lots of angst in the beginning, mentions of self-harm/self-destructive behavior, mentions of blood, quite a few mentions of the devil, ptsd, just a lot of dark themes ig (let me know if i need to add another warning) Summary: You’ve always been an angel in Draco’s eyes and now, years after the war, he’s reminded why once again.

WORDS: 3440

I’ve been wanting to write about the ‘devil on the shoulder’ trope for a while and I felt like @anchoeritic‘s 3K WRITING CHALLENGE was the perfect opportunity though i think i lost the plot a bit at some point and this probably isn’t what you had in mind.

i had to do so much research for this, probably the most research i’ve ever done for a fic. It’s a lot heavier than I’d intended for it to be (i almost cried at certain points) but I still really love it.

anyway this fic is inspired by ‘Angel’ by FINNEAS (which is a great song that I recommend listening to) and i hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

~~~

Anger.

So much anger that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Red, hot, fury just begging to be unleashed.

He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. When he opens them again his fist collides with the wall. “Fuck!”

The miniature Mephistopheles that’s made home on his shoulder tells him to keep going, that this is the only rational response. Draco heeds the advice until his knuckles are bleeding and there’s a dent in the wall.

He lets out a frustrated sigh as he thinks about you returning in a few hours, then he punches the spot one last time out of frustration. Draco’s own love for destruction lies parallel to the myths surrounding Beelzebub, his own virtues bringing him to peril instead of an unseen force of evil. But it’s much easier to believe that the voice always telling him to do wrong, is not his own.

Maybe this is who he is, a fucked up kid with anger issues. Maybe this is all he’ll ever be, knuckles spotted in crimson and harmful thoughts being shoved down as to not raise alarm.

He feels violated by the mark on his arm. Sobs stacking up in his lungs at the very thought, but all he can express is anger- all he can understand is the resent that crawls beneath his skin and settles into his bones like calcium.

Was it his choice? No. Did it matter? No. Choice means nothing in a world run by circumstance. Intention holds no value when there’s no action to follow through. In another world, a better world perhaps, he would’ve had the right to choose and he hopes that he would’ve chosen the right side- the good side.

Forgiveness, they say, is often practiced by the strong willed. He’d tried to forgive, he really had, but Iblis had told him that it didn’t matter who he forgave because they’d still done this to him anyway- they’d still sold his soul to the Devil.

“Draco, when will you forgive me?” She pleads and he shrugs with a thin smile.

“I don’t know mother. I don’t know.”

“It’s been years.” He turns a steal glaze toward her.

“And yet I still can’t get the mark off.”

“What am I meant to do?”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s too late to do the right thing.”

“What would the right thing have been back then? Huh?”

“The right thing to do would’ve been to protect me.”

“I did protect you. I took the Vow for you!” She yells as she stands out of her chair and points an accusatory finger toward him. He’s seen this scene so many times before that it’s permanently imprinted in his mind, but this time he’s not a scared teenager being scolded by his mother.

“I didn’t ask you to do that.” He stands as well, “I just asked you to save me. Why didn’t you save me?”

“What?” She’s taken aback,

“Summer before fifth. You told me that you’d had enough of him, you told me that we were going to leave and run away so that you could save me from him, from all of them.”

“So now you hate me because I couldn’t leave your bigoted father?”

“No, mother. I hate myself because you couldn’t leave my bigoted father.” He tucks his chair back into the table and pulls out his wand, “Thank you for dinner mother, it was lovely.”

Then he’s gone, and he doesn’t come back.

Draco had shut himself out from the world, hoping that his loathing would dissipate with time but it hadn’t. He still wakes up every morning with that tiny voice reminding him that he’s worthless, and he still believes it.

Why had he done it? Why had he allowed them to put the mark on his arm in the first place? Why had he put his own morals, his own principles, on the line to save a family who might not have done the same for him? Why had he allowed himself to succumb to the many ministrations of Diabolous, which dragged him further and further down the dark side?

Weakness. That’s the only answer he can conceive. Or maybe that’s the sound of Lucifer on his shoulder, consistently reminding him that he’s no match for the evil that resides deep within his soul. He can’t fight it, it’s who he is. He’s weak and he’s unholy. Bathed so often in sin that it’s sunk into his DNA. Does that even make sense?

Draco shakes his head and runs his hands down his face in an attempt to ground himself. But it doesn’t work, all he can see is red and all he can hear is his own conscience belittling him for continuously making the wrong choices. Why does he always make the wrong choices?

His throat so dry it feels as though he’s swallowed sand. His palms sweaty like he’s dipped them in oil. He paces around the room in a desperate effort to remember where you’d placed the box last time this happened. He can feel himself disconnecting from the world, feel himself sinking further and further into the dredges of his mind that torment him most.

That part of his brain that holds the memories, the shame, the anguish, is his biggest obstacle in recovery. It’s always on good days, days when… He blinks when he realizes that no fond memories come to mind. Does he even have good days? Or does this always happen, is this what’s become normal for him?

He catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror and steps back in shock, completely forgetting about his mission to find the box. The man in front of him looks clean, taken care of. When had he become this man and stopped being the terrified teenager that never ate and wore bags beneath his eyelids like name tags.

There is muscle on his arms, taut beneath the dress shirt that he must’ve put on that morning before going to classes… or work? When had he earned the right to stop looking the way he felt? Which of his actions had merited his beauty returning, when the dark mark still lays clear beneath the dress shirt that he’s got on? There are hickeys along his chest- one, two, three, littered around his torso like a map to his heart- and he can only assume that they’d been left in the wake of your last meeting, because he can’t seem to piece together the memory of them being made.

You. Where are you? Why can’t he remember where you are or what you look like? Did you finally leave? Did you finally realise that he wasn’t worth any of the pain and anguish that he’d put you through? Had you ultimately decided that Draco and the dark mark could not be separated, both physically and mentally? Maybe he never managed to redeem himself in your eyes, and it hurt so much to lose you that he made himself forget.

Redemption, he’d searched far and wide for it. He’d spent the months after the war trying to find some spiritual cleanse for the ailment in his essence, had dabbled in every muggle religion he came across in hopes of finding something that would provide him freedom from guilt. The Bible, the Qur’an, the Gita, the Torah, the Guru Granth Sahib, the Tripitaka- none of the holy books he’d read had promised him enough solace to feel deserving of love from a higher entity. They had all just reminded him of the purity and innocence that muggles embodied, the same qualities he came so close to erasing.

Redemption wasn’t in the cards for him. If it had been a game of Poker, Draco would’ve been the first fold with the knowledge that he didn’t stand a chance against the better players at the table. Who were the better players? He didn’t really know, he just knew that he wasn’t one of them.

His eyes drift toward his reflection once more and he feels disgust crawl through his anatomy. Nausea, a familiar friend in times like these, making itself comfortable in the barrel of his gut. Why had he even eaten today anyway? Sustenance won’t fill the emptiness that’s making domicile in his chest, it won’t make him less of a habitat to repulsive regret and desolation.

He walks toward the dresser and picks up a pocket knife that’s sitting in-between some make up and a music box. Then like deja vu he can already feel the weapon pinching, digging beneath his skin as if it’s trying to excavate bone. He recalls blood pouring out, drowning his pale skin in spills of vermillion and carmine, and dropping to the floor. The floor, chalky tile with tiny chards of black glass engrained in it, something that he hadn’t come up with himself but liked anyway. Who had come up with that again?

Screams, familiar but unrecognizable, had filled his ears soon after. He remembers his arm being wrapped in a bandage, him being carried off the bathroom floor and taken to the Hogwarts infirmary, no, it was actually St Mungo’s. He remembers being treated and loud cries settling down into comforting whispers beside him. He remembers feather light touches being placed on his face and kisses settling onto the skin of his palm.

He remembers something good, but he doesn’t know what.

He remembers the injury, and knows that it didn’t work.

Draco takes a deep breath and puts the knife back down. Staring at his reflection once more he sees that the man standing before him is not the same child that had stepped into battle way back when. When was that? Months? Years? He can’t tell.

The box. The box will tell him. But he doesn’t know where it is, he doesn’t even know where he is anymore. This room is definitely not his Hogwarts dorm room, it’s not in Hogwarts at all, and it’s not his room in the Manor either. Where is he?

His eyes shoot up when he hears a door shutting, and soon after voices follow suit. The voices are coming toward him, in this strange room that he’s in, and Draco struggles to identify them. His dorm mates potentially? No, this clearly isn’t Hogwarts. Friends? His mother? You?

Then there’s a laugh, from a child, from two children, and suddenly none of it makes sense any more. He knows those voices, he knows those laughs, so well that they might as well be his own, but he can’t seem to attach faces or names to them.

A few of the voices drift off, further down the hall, and one gets louder as the door to the bedroom opens. Draco holds his breath as the person walks in, not knowing what to expect, and feels a confused sense of relief wash over him when he sees you standing there.

You laugh as you enter the room, “If you can get an outstanding in Transfiguration then we’ll get you whatever your heart desires.” You respond to your daughter as you recall how both you and Draco had struggled with the subject during your Hogwarts years.

You furrow your eyebrows at the state of your bedroom- documents scattered across the bed, clothes in tiny piles all over the floor, and a tiny dent in the wall beside the bathroom door. A sigh escapes your lips as you process the mess and prepare yourself for what’s about to come. You turn and your eyes land on your husband, and your heart breaks at the sight of him. He’d promised this morning that he’d be fine, it was the only reason that you’d left him alone, but clearly he wasn’t.

“Love? Are you okay?” You ask softly as you take the shoes off of your feet and close your bedroom door behind you. He tilts his head to the side momentarily in confusion, but then realisation flashes across his eyes and he takes quick strides toward you.

“Oof.” You breathe out when he pulls you into his chest and rests his forehead on your shoulder.

“Y/N.” He muffles into your shoulder and you feel your heart swell with love for him- this man who recognizes you instantly, even when the entire world is nothing more than a distant memory.

“Miss me?” You ask with a small laugh as you bring your hands up to wrap around him tightly. He mumbles an agreement and you smile, “I missed you too.”

“Bad day.” He whispers and you nod, rubbing his back in an effort to soothe him.

“I know baby, wanna talk about it?”

“No. Can’t remember.”

“Okay, that’s fine.” You pull him away from you and kiss his forehead with a warm smile, “We can just lie down for a while.”

He obliges as you pull him toward the bed and shuffle the papers off of it, climbing on after you and setting his head in your chest. You run your fingers through his hair and hum, trying to your best to make him feel calm and prevent another breakdown.

But your efforts are futile, within the hours that Draco had been alone he’d thought every terrible thought that he possibly could, Al-Shaitan had already tormented your husband through a series of painful misconceptions. Draco had never really subscribed to religion or faith but after the war he’d identified quite quickly with the concept of the Devil- confessing that he believed he had an evil conspirator sitting on his shoulder- and felt that his own soul deserved to be damned. You’d tried to rid him of that notion, many times, but it never worked, he was in too deep.

You tense up when you feel a cry escape his lips and his fingers tighten into the space of your torso. “I’m sorry.”

He feels terrible, terrible for ruining all of your hard work. All the effort you’d put into rebuilding him now disintegrating in the blink of an eye. But you’re here now, you’re going to fix him again, he knows it.

You try to level your breathing so that you don’t cry too, so that you don’t fall into this pit of despair with him, because Merlin knows that any pain Draco feels takes as rough a toll on you. You pull him off of you and sit up, bringing him to sit as well, so that you can look him in the eyes.

“Sorry for what Bub?”

“For being broken. I-“ He feels another sob rock through him and you pull him into your chest. “Please fix me Y/N.” He pleads, a whimper following suit.

His fingers are digging into you again, he’s clinging so tightly to you like you’ll disappear if he doesn’t stay close enough, and it hurts you to know that even after all these years he’s scared that you’ll leave.

“You’re not broken Draco, there’s nothing to fix.”

“But I’m- I’m-“ Cries start to escape rapidly and interrupt him. He can’t see clearly anymore as tears form in his waterline and obstruct his view of you. It hurts, everything just hurts.

“You’re not broken, my love.” You whisper as you cup his face, “You’re not evil, you’re not bad. You’re good. You’re my husband, I love you. Did you open the box?”

He shakes his head, “Couldn’t find it.”

“Okay, let me get i-“ You’re cut off by your bedroom door opening and your children marching in.

“Dad, you’ll never guess what happened at school today- Oh, is this a bad time?” Ariel, your daughter, stops in her tracks as she raises her eyebrows at you.

You shake your head and gesture for them to come in. “I think it just got a little much for him this year. Please get me the box, love.”

Ariel goes to the headboard and pulls out the aforementioned box from the first drawer, before her and Cael, your son, get comfortable on the bed beside you and Draco. But Draco doesn’t need it anymore, he can already sense himself coming back down to earth. He knows where he is- with you, in your house, with your children, in your bed. He’s home, he’s safe.

He takes the box anyway and begins to unload its contents in silence, the three of you observing him with admiration. It’s a small circular box that your children made a few years back after witnessing one of his episodes for the first time, containing momentos from the last 18 years of you and Draco’s lives together. Pictures, notes, a few school projects.

“Tell him about what happened at school today, it’ll probably make him laugh.” Cael encourages his older sister Ariel, and she does as told.

Draco pays a significant amount of attention to the story, piecing together facts that he’s slowly starting to understand and recognize as a part of his normal life. He intertwines his fingers with Cael’s as Ariel continues telling the story from her spot on your lap.

Love.

So much love that he doesn’t know what to do with it. Bursts of it just choking him out.

Draco remembers everything now. He remembers this house of yours, the one he’d bought straight out of Hogwarts and begged you to live in with him because “It’s nothing without you in it”. These children that you’d had 14 years ago, that’d he’d been so scared to raise because he thought they’d resent him, and that made everything in the world just seem brighter. This life that he modeled with you on the embers of his haunting past, this life that reminds him he’s good.

Before you, he would’ve been terrified to show any one his vulnerable side, especially his children, but you’d taught him that loving someone means loving all the good bits and the bad bits, all the happy moments and the sad moments. Now he knows that when days like this happen, when he gets so lost inside the mental maze of his own construction, the three of you will always be waiting to help him out.

Ariel finishes her story and Draco bellows out a laugh, feeling thankful to have you three around in his moments of weakness.

His three guardian angels- the only people who can always lead him away from the shadow in his mind and toward the luminescence that he carries within him. “All the good within us is split in the middle, half from you and half from mum, just as it should be. I hope you remember that we wouldn’t be who we are without you both.” Cael suddenly speaks up and you smile pridefully at him.

“They wouldn’t.” You add once he’s done and smile, “I couldn’t have done such a bad job without you.”

“Hey!” Ariel accuses and you all laugh.

“She’s right though, I am the one who taught you hexes at age 7.” Draco grins bashfully and you roll your eyes.

“And look at us now, acing Charms!”

“See love,” Draco turns to you, “There is a method to my madness.”

“Mhmm.” You hum with a small smile. “Go do your homework, dinner soon.”

“Yes, I’m making pizza tonight.” Draco adds as he kisses both of your children on their foreheads.

They excitedly hop off the bed and run out of the room. “I can’t belie-“

“Harry called.” Draco interrupts you and your eyes go wide at his statement but you nod for him to continue, “He wanted to know how I was doing, you know with it having been 18 years since the war and all. Offered to come spend the day with me and make sure I’d be alright while you were gone.”

“And you said no?” You raise your eyebrows and he shakes his head.

“No, I told him that I’d come by his office instead. Then when I was getting ready… I just started having flashbacks again, and my mark hurt. I felt horrible all of a sudden, like there was huge weight on my chest and this fog obscuring my vision.”

There are few things that Draco has faith in, but you, you he never runs short on trust for. You’re a constant in his life, a shoulder that he can always rely on when he needs it, and as he sits here and tells you about his day, he feels love for you hit him tenfold.

You, this beautiful, kind, ethereal being that has no place on earth. You, the one who’s managed to convince him that saints are real. You, who has given him your entire life, along with all the love that you have to offer. You, Y/N, the love of his life.

You.

An angel.

~~~

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yandere-sins · 3 years

Note

Can I see bondage and blood (4 and 6) for the bratty goat man that is Lucio. I just got into the arcana and I’m loosing my mind over this brat. I love it.

Hahahaha, welcome to the fandom! Thanks for requesting the goat man lol Enjoy ^^

Bondage - “Darling your such a tease. I’ll give you a taste of what it’s like playing with fire.”

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

There were so many red flags when you received the invitation to the Palace. All these rumors about a sickness spreading through the streets of Vesuvia, yet, the count still requested the likes of you to attend to him and keep him company while people began drawing back and isolate. Sure, tending to anyone who demanded your service was your daily bread, but you’d rather stayed at your home as well.

But he was a paying customer and not a first-timer either. Also, as the count, he was paying very, very well. Once these ‘sickness’ wore down, it would be good money in your hand to have, especially if you wanted nothing more than to leave this place.

That wasn’t all, of course. Every visit you spend at his side was filled with lavish meals and grand festivities. You felt less than an escort and more than an actual member of the high society when you were with him. But all the presents and clothes he gave to you were starting to drown you in guilt and fear that one day, this was something to hold over your head if you weren’t careful.

So, why did you go back?

Biting your cheek, you wondered about your reasons as you put on yet another wonderful, soft and endearing garment that he had prepared for you. Lucio hadn’t even arrived yet, but you knew by his choices that he grew bolder every time. You had told him right at the start, from be very beginning, that you weren’t interested in more than staying by his side and looking nice. That other services weren’t your occupation, and even less were you interested in something personal.

Yet, your hands began to sweat nervously as Lucio got announced, servants rushing to open the door for him, and your bad feeling intensified.

“[Name]!” he called out joyfully, arms open wide to pull you into a hug, entering the room without even a moment of hesitation. Lucio wasn’t a typical noble. Everyone talked about him behind his back of how unfit he was in his position. To greet you first and so casually - in front of servants no less - kind of confirmed that. No one would tell him off, strangely enough, giving him the respect to do as he pleased. Perhaps that was the influence of his wife, but you weren’t unhappy that he wasn’t spitting in your face or belittling you like the others would once they were done with you.

“Count,” you greeted him briefly, bowing your head to him with a small smile you could muster. No second later, you were virtually overrun by him, finding yourself dipped down and in his arms in the blink of an eye. “Finally some good company,” he smirked, reaching for your hand to kiss it. Charm, he had, even if this was one of the few good points you could name about him.

It was a rather typical meeting, minus the grand balls he liked to throw for his ‘friends’. Just you too, a table between you that was smaller than the one he usually filled with food. The menu was just as delicious, even though you two had it in silence, Lucio never losing the smile on his face. He usually was much more talkative, so you let him talk, but today, even if you spoke up, he wouldn’t react with his great stories and even greater enthusiasm. Maybe, it was just a calm day for him. Maybe he was just exhausted.

The time couldn’t run out faster, your eyes occasionally flitting to the small clock on top of the fireplace. Yet, every time you’d be disappointed with how much time was still left. You had been served tea, the servants leaving you alone as soon as the biscuits were placed down on the coffee table in front of you. Only when the door fell into its lock did Lucio finally sigh deeply, as if he was bothered by a heavy weight on his shoulders.

“I thought about it,” he finally spoke up, his words more serious than you had heard from him ever. This voice, paired with his words, rose another flinch of nervosity in you, and you sipped at your cup filled with warmth to hide your anxiety. Lucio walked back over to you, sitting down next to you on the couch and taking an inelegant sip of his own cup. “I want you to stay here.”

Immediately, the tea you just drank left a bitter aftertaste on your tongue, and you backed away noticeable. “My Count, I told you in the very beginning I don’t stay the night--”

“No, no!” he quickly waved off, shaking his head before taking a deep breath and reaching for your hands. You wanted to pull away, but at the same time, you feared upsetting such an important figure in this society by behaving rudely. “I meant forever.”

“Forever...?” you muttered, feeling your expression crunch up in confusion. “My Lord, I don’t think that would be appropriated--”

You really couldn’t see yourself, an escort, stay by his side.

“Not yet, but...” his voice trailed off as you thought to see hints of red grace his cheeks. “I will make you Count Consort. I mean it! You’ll have all the rights that even the Countess has, and you’ll be allowed to stay here.”

His offer sounded sincere at least, his expression giving off the impression that - even if it was foolish - he meant it. It took you a lot of strength not to gasp in his face about what he said, the mere idea of you becoming such a high-ranking member of nobility scaring and appalling you. Maybe this was a dream coming true for many people, but not for you. Not for someone like you who wanted to leave this city for a new start, and especially the Count who was starting to do what you always feared he would: Monopolize you.

“I cannot,” you said firmly, feigning regret in your voice before pulling your hands from his. “Why?” he asked, inching closer, your legs touching while he kept snapping for your hands. “I... I just can’t.”

“That’s not a reason. You can. Just say yes and stay with me.”

Finally, he managed to get a hold of your wrists, squeezing them tightly in his fingers. The golden prothesis always had scared you a little when he touched you with it. It was cold, and not rarely he put on claws on top of his fingertips that seemed more than just dull accessories. You were glad it wasn’t the case this time, yet the sheer strength he managed to bring up with it was only made more painful by the metal.

“No!” you gasped, finally letting your feeling of fear and disgust showing on your face. It was in the gist of the moment, Lucio witnessing your rejection, that he loosened the strength on his grip so you could tear your arm away. You didn’t mean to cross his cheek with your palm. You really didn’t! But when you realized the slapping sound echoing through the room, it was already too late, and you had jumped up, staring at what you did in horror.

The next moment, you ran to the door, slamming into the wood as it wouldn’t budge when you wanted to open it.

You always believed that he was different, but perhaps, you should have heeded the warnings. He treated you nicely, but in the end, when the other escorts told you that he had little patience, yet mighty demands of his partners, you should have heeded their advice to not go agree again and again to visit him. They told you about what he took pleasure in; the colosseum, the wars, bloodshed, and people worshipping him. It should have been enough for you to not return. To see that he was no good man, even if he treated you right.

“Darling you’re such a tease,” you heard behind you, and no second passed that another body pressed up to you, locking you between the door and Lucio. “You want me to fight for you? Beg you? Run after you? If that’s what you want, sure, I don’t mind.”

Exasperated, you turned around, not wanting to leave your back so exposed to him, only to find yourself staring right at a golden key he held in front of you. Hesitant, you glanced at him, his eyes now clearly duller compared to before, where he looked at you as the object of his affection, but the smile playing on his lips was anything but sincere. The mismatch of expression scared you, but you quickly snatched the key from him, fiddling with the door a little until you heard the lock open. Pressed up so close to it, it was no surprise you lost your footing, tumbling to the ground as it finally gave away. In the hallway usually filled with hustling and bustling of servants and guards, dead silence and darkness were all that awaited you.

You faintly remembered the layout as you stumbled to your feet, giving a short glance over your shoulder as you saw Lucio step out of the room as well, his hand leisurely coming up to usher you forwards. “Run, my Beloved. It’s only fair if you have a chance to escape. You always told me how you wanted to escape your life, so here I thought we were under the same impression, but in the end, you’re going to hate me as well, don’t you?”

His words were so sad, yet, their meaning scarier than anything to you. You never realized... that he thought this way. That up till now, he had been looking out for you after all. “But it doesn’t matter if you hate me,” he added, shoulders slumping as he looked at you pitifully. “Everyone does, but that means they let me do what I want. And I want to be with you. Deep down, you know I can make your wish come true. Otherwise, why would you have always come back to me?”

Now, you weren’t waiting anymore. As quickly as you could, with the fabric of the garment rushing by you as you ran, you made your way to what you thought was the exit. There was something mad about the way he uttered these last sentences, and you didn’t want to find out. Not when you heard his steps follow after you.

“That’s a dead-end,” he called behind you as you dipped into a sidearm of the hallway. “Don’t make it easy for me to catch you, Sweetheart.”

But it was already too late; you had to move forward. You’d slip into a room there and jump out of the window if it turned out that there wasn’t any way left to go. But the further in you got, the fewer doors you saw until they only sparsely appeared around you. Every time you thought, “One more, the next I will enter and escape,” but then they stopped appearing completely, and you ran right into a portrait of your suitor at the end of the hallway.

“You went easy on me?” you heard behind you. “You’re such an adorable rabbit. You could have just told me that you wanted me to court you some more! But don’t you worry.”

Eventually, Lucio caught up to you while you pressed up to the wall in your back, eyeing for a chance to escape him. Until it was too late, his face so close to you, you felt his breath against your lips and a cold, uncomfortable grip around your chin. “Hate me all you want, but I finally realize this is what you want too. You got me really riled up now, [Name]. We can play all night long if you want.”

You wanted to say something, do something, slap him again! But you couldn’t. You couldn’t even move a finger, or take a breath, captivated by the glowing silver of his eyes, shining even in the dark. “I’ll give you a taste of what it’s like playing with fire,” he whispered before you felt his lips close in on yours.

“Because that’s what you did to me too and now it’s your turn to get burned.”

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yoooespinosa · 3 years

Text

The Forbidden Fruit

I Yours, Draco

Warnings: light cursing

< back | next >

A/n: harry is going to be doing/saying some out of character stuff. it wouldn’t be enemies to lovers if he didn’t. just fyi. also this is not me saying that’s who the reader will end up w, i haven’t made up my mind yet.

He was watching you. You could feel it— his gaze burning through your skull. He wanted you to meet his eyes, but you wouldn’t. You would not allow yourself to give him the satisfaction.

Before, you would have blushed, basking in his attentiveness towards you. Your chest would swell with pride with the knowledge; that you had draco malfoy’s attention all to yourself.

Now, you wanted to hide from his heed. To get as far away from his intent stare as possible. You were now aware, that it wasn’t attainable to have him all to yourself, at least not the whole of him.

You were so focused on not turning your head, that you hadn’t noticed when professor slugorn instructed to grab ingredients for the potion he had just been lecturing the class on.

Noticing the commotion, you observed the items your peers had picked out and made your way to the supply closet.

You weren’t surprised when you felt a presence behind you as you stood on your tiptoes to reach the top shelf.

A hand on your hip, flexing slightly, as if the person wanted to grip you and never let you go. They thought against it, instead a soft caress of their hand stayed.

Their chest skimming your back and their other hand coming to view as they brushed the fingers of your outstretched hand, grabbing the item you were reaching for.

You recognized the hand immediately, what with the familiar rings that embellished his fingers. But even before that, you figured it was him, the room filling with his once comforting scent.

A sharp ache to your chest almost made your knees buckle at the sound of his voice, “Here.”

His voice was soft— almost a whisper. You hated that even after everything, it still made your stomach flutter. Even if it was just one fucking word.

You turned around slowly, his hand falling from your hip. He was so close, close enough you could feel the heat radiating off of him.

You grabbed the bottle from his hand hesitantly, making sure not to make anymore skin to skin contact.

Begrudgingly you mumbled, “Thanks.” Still not meeting his eyes.

Before you could move away from him, potion be damned, he stopped you with a grip on your elbow.

“Wait,” He sounded desperate, enough that it made you want to listen, but a part of you knew that draco was always the best at giving people what they wanted. He knew just how to play his cards. “can we talk? Please.”

“We don’t have anything to talk about.”

Perhaps you did though, it was just the matter of you not wanting to. You had been ignoring him since that night, he had ran after you, but you slammed your door in his face.

He ended up waiting by your dorm all night, leading him to falling asleep against the wall. But when you were sure he was no longer awake, you snuck off to one of your friends rooms.

Draco didn’t know boundaries some times. He didn’t know the definition of needing space, he would smother you until there was none available.

And there was no way you could have dealt with that at the time— without breaking down.

“You know that’s not true.” His voice was always quiet, soft— when he was trying to get his way with you, trying to get you to forgive him, because he knew you liked it best like that. So different from the arrogant and boastful draco that the rest of hogwarts knew. But that wouldn’t work on you now, you refused to let him win you back with simple soft spoken words.

You removed your arm from his firm grip, “What could you possibly have to say to me right now?”

His eyes wandered a second, seeming to search for the right words. But there wasn’t anything he could say that would change your feelings.

“It wasn’t what it looked like.” He chose to settle with.

You shot him a look of incredulity, irritation flaring through you. “Really?” Your tone was dull, not allowing your emotions to give away. “Because what it looked like was you fucking another girl.” He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. “Was that not what you were doing?”

His mouth opened and closed. Searching for words and promptly finding nothing. You had expected as much, how could he deny what you both knew happened?

“That’s what i thought.”

Part of you wanted it to be a big misunderstanding. You wanted to believe that it wasn’t what it looked like, your heart ached for that to be true.

“It’s not that simple.” He breathed out, inching his head down to meet your eyes.

You moved away from him, you didn’t trust yourself with his lips that close to yours.

“If you would just let me-“

He was cut off by a scuff of a shoe. Someone else had entered the supply closet. You didn’t know if you were disappointed or relieved.

Dracos face hardened, a sneer coming to his face. “What?”

“I’m just trying to get my ingredients.” The voice sounded unamused.

Draco scoffed, “We’ll talk later.” He left before you could disagree.

You let out a shaky breath, overwhelmed with talking to draco for the first time in a few days.

A low snicker sounded from behind you, followed by the sound of glass clinking faintly, you turned and met green eyes.

“Is there something you want to say, potter?” You spat at the boy.

He shook his head, laughing to himself. “It’s a bit embarrassing, isn’t it?”

Confusion was clear on your face, “What is?”

He met your eyes, amusement coming over his features. “Your boyfriend— cheating on you with pug face parkinson.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” You immediately retaliated.

You also wanted to scold him for that nickname. It was degrading and you thought that it didn’t fit pansy at all, no one could deny that she was a pretty girl.

You held that back though. Because why would you even think about defending the girl that slept with your boyfriend.

You and pansy weren’t friends, but you never had any problems. You gave each other answers to homework and even gave advice to one another, once in awhile. But she never owed you anything, that’s why you weren’t as mad at her, as you were with draco.

Nevertheless, she was wrong and went against basic morals, you could admit that. But then again, when has pansy parkinson ever given a fuck about said morals?

“Yeah,” He raises his eyebrows mockingly, still collecting what he needed. “i’d sure hope so after that.”

Your jaw clenched unwillingly, eyes narrowed at the bespectacled boy, “Do you ever mind your business?”

He turns to you, “It’s kind of hard to, when your sad love life is aired out for the whole school to see.”

He throws you a sarcastic smile and leaves the closet before you could utter a word. Good, you probably would have regretted the words that were bound to come out next. You hated him more than draco and that said a lot.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you grab everything you needed hastily, dreading to see how much time you wasted.

When seated back on your desk, you see a note sitting on top of your textbook, written in all too familiar cursive.

Meet me at our place. Please.

- Yours, Draco

#draco angst #draco fanfiction #draco imagine #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco one shot #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x slytherin!reader #harry potter x reader #harry potter oneshot #harry potter x y/n #harry potter imagine #harry potter angst #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter #the forbidden fruit ➷｡

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seikyoko · 3 years

Text

Johnny Gill appreciation post

There’s plenty of issues I have with DGM Hallow, people other than me have talked about it and honestly I don’t feel like rereading the manga AND rewatching Hallow to explain all my dissatisfaction with it, but whatever, they wanted to make it short enough for it to be 14 episodes, it’s difficult to make it 100% faithful, whatever, I understand, even though I’m sad the zombie arc and the funny part of the phantom G arc were not in here, I understand, I’m not going to nitpick even the little things.

BUT WHY THE HELL would they on purpose take out the Johnny content in such an outrageous manner? like at the very beginning, where Johnny is the one who notice that polite speech doesn’t suit “Allen” and that when he doesn’t pay attention, he slip to more casual speech. It was instead replaced by.. Lavi, and while yeah good to give more Lavi content,

It was annoying to steal another character’s very rare screentime, and besides, it was impossible for Lavi to do this interaction, even if Johnny didn’t in the manga. Look, that happened after the 14th reveal, Bookman forbade him from getting too involved with “Allen”, because it was going to be his downfall if he involved himself that much in the war, and Lavi heeded his advice, you never see Lavi & “Allen” interacting again after the 14th reveal (though with the recent events of “Allen” going to the campbell mansion and is going to meet bookman and everything even if Lavi’s not with bookman that’s probably going to change), and that interaction was way more important than “woah bro no need to be so formal” with the mana mask revelation and Red’s actual personality and everything, and you know it’s relevant to that because it happens in the same episode, and in the manga very few chapters after.

And also the whole “the regret won’t let me die in peace” between Johnny & Kanda, instead.. happens between Marie & Kanda & Lenalee, and the anime scene absolutely sucks, the sacrifice Kanda is making doesn’t really hit you and it comes off as the dbz “past evil dude/asshole is now helping the protagonist”.

Look, he got better after the alma karma arc, and he love and trusts Lenalee & Marie a lot, but I find it kinda weird Kanda would volunteer such personal information on his feelings that easily with virtually no reason to (though I’m no Kanda expert), the interaction is just Lenalee who wasn’t involved in the Alma arc weirdly insisting on prying, after Kanda already accepted the innocence and can’t take it back anymore and Kanda pouring his heart out just like that , which, weird, because when Lenalee say “don’t you were already trapped in the order more than all of us and the order harmed you so much”, his reaction is to change the subject by successfully picking a fight with most people on the room (like Komui and Bak at least) by drinking it out of Lenalee’s hands.

It doesn’t even work as real Lenalee screentime because you can tell she was a mouthpiece to make Kanda say it before Hallow end/say it to someone other than Johnny, it wasn’t a real Kanda & Lenalee interaction

In the manga it was after Johnny and Kanda (who already bonded and came to care about each other quite a lot during their roadtrip/travelling around), who are both people who are pretty much risking everything to find and help “Allen”, exited the pub and Johnny showed that he was a ride or die friend, reminding Kanda of Alma, likely the first time he thought of his past without feeling pain (like “Allen” comparing the orphanage director to Mana), then Johnny ask why Kanda did it, whether Kanda even answered or not, it was going to be nowhere as personal as how it ended up being, then that akuma snatched Johnny, and it very much stated “it’s Kanda yuu” at the beginning, showing that it was a speech personally aimed at Kanda, rather than a generic exorcist, saying that he was an absolute fool to come back, that he had very very little left to live, and he should’ve spent his last moments in peace, and that he chose hell, and he doesn’t go “what are you talking about ?” or deny it, showing that yeah, he does have little left to live and he most probably did choose hell.

Then Johnny goes “really Kanda... why ?” then go silent, so Johnny wasn’t going to badger him on it, then Kanda goes on to say his reasons (and yeah Johnny works better because he have more informations about the Alma thing than Lenalee had, since Kanda most likely almost never talked about it, and the scientists there were probably more informed than the exorcists after the facts and Kanda most likely didn’t tell her much, if anything really, I mean the dude can’t even stand when you say his first name just because it reminds him of that time, and Johnny did witness Kanda stab “Allen” and the whole shitshow, he’s more involved I mean).

AND THE “I was about to say sorry and then I stopped myself, thank you kanda, thank you, than..” WAS SO TOUCHING

end rant about “the manga is better !!”

And they’re not only making these moments worse, but they’re shooting themselves on the foot, because Johnny is a vital character to the “searching for Allen Walker” arc. and they keep down playing his worth as a character and his bond with “Allen”.

Johnny dropped everything for “Allen”, he loved his job as a scientist and everyone in the order, and the whole thing was risky as hell, and he did it anyway (he had no guarantee of quitting the order safely, and he wouldn’t have without Kanda, he had no guarantee of finding “Allen”, he had no guarantee the Noah or the 14th wouldn’t kill him immediately and when he first decided it he didn’t know Kanda would be around so doubly gutsy), and the love is very clearly mutual with how badly “Allen” freaked out at thinking Nea killed Johnny and that heart warming hug when he exited the wheat field and how desperately he wanted Johnny to be okay when the earl attacked and Nea took over, and you can tell it’s because Johnny mattered to him a lot instead of a general kindness thing because, really, the whole TOWN/CITY was in danger from the Millenium earl being around and homicidal, and last but certainly not least, JOHNNY’S DECLARATION OF FRIENDSHIP which really mattered to “Allen” (It was the most flustered he’s ever been in the whole manga).

And it mattered in the end ! it changed everything ! Kanda wouldn’t have found “Allen” without Johnny’s plan. and “Allen” would be literally dead, erased, not from this world anymore if it wasn’t for Johnny.

Look, unlike all the other times Nea took over, the last one was pretty bad, in fact it should have been impossible for Allen Walker to ever open his eyes again, his soul was done for, he was technically dead.

But the power of people’s bond is probably the most powerful thing in DGM verse, so powerful that it can even do the impossible, like bringing back the dead.

Cross, Tyki and Link weren’t going to do that because of their allegiances, Road can’t maintain her form, even if Mana was going to choose “Allen” over Nea, he is very much amnesic, it wouldn’t have occured to Kanda and most of the order to try that, because it was very obviously the 14th, and Kanda doesn’t even call “Allen” by his name anyway, they’d have jumped straight to trying to defeat him or try another method to bring “Allen” back, if Apocryphos could still bring him back his way, he’d have merged with “Allen” and “Allen” as we know him would be no more.

Yeah, pretty sure “Allen” would be no more, and it wasn’t a case of right place/right moment or anything, it was because Johnny and “Allen” loved each other (platonically, I shouldn’t have to precise that but here we are) and it shook reality in ways usually only the earl take advantage of.

Also you imagine the amount of mental badassness it would take to take your friend, and physically try to carry him away while he’s the target of the earl who is looking extremely deranged and is being really violent ?

Also he prevents Kanda from using violence against “Allen” who was in pretty bad shape, and that with Tiedoll’s speech help him find the guts to face “Allen” eye to eye and a lot of what ensued after

Don’t ever underestimate Johnny’s importance to the story.

Yet here he’ll always be a barely relevant side character to the anime (well at least Hallow I refuse to watch the 2006 anime and check if his earlier moments were done justice), and for what reason ? because he’s not good-looking/hot, and because he’s not physically powerful or badass in a conventional way.

That’s.. the end to my salt I think

#Johnny Gill #dgm spoilers #dgm #dgm meta #Allen Walker #Kanda Yuu #Allen&Johnny #Johnny&Kanda #Did I say I love Johnny #Well I love him #my meta

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telli1206 · 3 years

Text

The Heart Will Follow (Ch. 3)

Jay’s never had a crush...until he met Carlos. And now he can’t stay away.

Carlos doesn’t know what to make of Jay’s presence, yet. But what should he do, exactly, about a boy that’s both cute AND terrifying?

A collection of Jaylos isle meetings, inspired by this beautiful headcanon I came across randomly that I can’t get out of my head.

AO3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3: Forever In Your Mind

“So...he just...left?”

Carlos bites his lip and lets his gaze drop to his lap. He’ll look anywhere to avoid Evie’s concentrated stare right now. He can hear the concern in her voice, but it feels too new, too...unsettling, to have someone care about his safety. He’s just not used to that. At all.

“I wonder why...” he hears Evie mutter to herself, and he looks up to catch sight of her furrowed brow and lips pursed tightly in thought. When she glances up and sees Carlos watching her, her eyes immediately soften, and she places a hand over his, flashing a warm smile to try to reassure him.

“Jay is so weird sometimes,” she muses, shaking her head. “Who knows why he was out there. The important thing is, he left you alone. Right?”

“I guess,” Carlos agrees, heaving a sigh. He decides against telling Evie exactly why Jay said he had chosen to leave him alone. He couldn’t really explain what Jay had said, honestly. Why would he give a shit about how Carlos’ mom would react? And his...eyes? Yeah, he definitely didn’t need to upset Evie any further with more of Jay’s weird comments.

“I-I didn’t get the impression that he’d try to steal from me again,” he offers, and quirks a smile when Evie beams back at him.

“Good! So let’s not waste another second then talking about that...that skeezy thief,” she huffs, and shifts her focus back to her open textbook. She flips through a few pages before noticing how Carlos has stilled, and is now sitting stiff and unmoving beside her. There’s a look of distress on his face, and his cheeks are blooming the brightest pink color.

“Ok. Something else is wrong. What is it?” Evie demands, and Carlos squeaks quietly at the forcefulness in her tone. He’s biting his tongue, but Evie can see the way his eyes are continuously darting to the door and back.

“No! Carlos, tell me you don’t. You don’t need to...” She pinches her nose, sighing in frustration at the way Carlos shifts in his seat, his hands pressed firmly into his lap. “You didn’t go before class started??”

“I-I’m sorry. I didn’t have to! I swear. It...it just came up all of a sudden.”

Carlos can feel the guilt pooling in his gut already. He didn’t want to ignore all the help Evie had given him, all the advice that she had gathered to survive Dragon Hall.

Initially, Carlos had no regrets about the cup of coffee he drank this morning. More like the exact opposite - he was grateful.

Cruella had thrown a full mug at his head as he was trying to leave for school, which wasn’t unusual. Even though she had agreed to let him attend classes in exchange for extra chores after school and on the weekends, his departure every morning was a painful reminder to her of the chores that wouldn’t get done until later, including her breakfast dishes.

What WAS unusual about this morning, however, was that Carlos had managed to catch the mug this time without barely a spill of the scalding tar black coffee that it contained. With his mother already stomping out of the room in a fit of angry rambles to no one but herself, Carlos had taken full advantage of the hot liquid, flooding his belly and providing some satiation and warmth against the chill of the morning air.

It wasn’t until now, when the drink had caught up to his system, did the heeding of Evie’s number one warning cause him a tinge of remorse.

“Y-you’re going to have to hold it Carlos!” Evie hissed, her voice shrill with fear. “I wasn’t lying when I said that leaving class ALONE is a suicide mission!”

Carlos tries his best to settle his squirming. He crosses his ankles tightly, keeping his hands pressed firmly down to help ignore the feeling building inside. But the pressure is just too intense to ignore. He looks up at Evie just as the tears start to well in his eyes.

“Shit, FINE,” she groans, smacking her hand to her forehead. “Listen to me, ok? If you’re going to do this, there’s only one way to go.”

-----

Carlos shuffles quickly down the hall, trying his best to be quiet. Evie’s directions were very specific, and he plans to follow them perfectly. The little pangs of regret he feels for upsetting his new friend, his only friend, are still fresh, and he has no intention of hurting her like that again. Not after all she’s done for Carlos already.

“Take a right - you’ll walk past three classrooms and a bathroom. Walk past the bathroom. Do NOT use that one, Carlos. Ok? Keep walking. Promise me you’ll keep walking.”

He squeezes his eyes closed and scoots past the bathroom as promised, despite his borderline painful need to go right now. He’s not going to make it much longer, and he starts looking around at all the isolated doorways, contemplating the option of relieving himself there if he can’t manage to find the very specific bathroom Evie told him he absolutely had to use.

Luckily, he spots it just a few feet away on the other side of the hallway, exactly where Evie said it would be. He breathes a short sigh of relief as he darts across and slips through the door.

At first glance, the bathroom looks and sounds empty. But he knows better than to trust his senses completely. So Carlos takes a quick scan of each corner and stall to confirm that he is, indeed, alone before sliding into the last stall closest to the window and locking the door behind him.

Carlos completely forgets the world around him then, lost in the exhiliration of finally being able to relieve himself. He’s had to pee for so long he can’t even stop the happy groan that escapes his lips, the pressure inside immediately gone in that blissful moment. He’s so focused on that pleasant feeling that he almost...almost...doesn’t hear the soft creaking of the bathroom door opening.

It’s a slow sound, just barely audible, but he manages to catch it anyway, the years of constant need to remain alert and attentive now on his side. He sucks in his breath and forces himself to stop his stream, wincing in pain at the involuntary pause. He hops onto the toilet seat ledge nimbly and balances there, remaning motionless, quiet, and with his ears piqued to listen.

The door closes with a soft scrape along the damaged linoleum floor, followed closely by the pad of slow, deliberate footsteps. They pause for a moment at each stall as they move along, clearly looking for something. Or someone.

When they make a stop in front of Carlos’ stall, his muscles tense uncomfortably to make himself be as still as possible. He squeezes his eyes shut and silently wishes for whoever’s on the other side to leave him alone.

But instead, the feet step closer to him, and he hears a dry chuckle.

“Come out, come out wherever you are!” Jay sing-songs. “I know you’re in there, De Vil.”

Evil, poor Evie’s going to hate him for this.

Carlos lets out a breath and drops to the ground with a loud stomp. No point in being quiet now is there?

“Fine, fine! You caught me, ok? Just, let me finish pissing and I’ll come out. I’m almost done.”

“Aw, I interrupted your pee pee break??” Jay teases. “Sorry, pup! By all means, continue.”

Carlos rolls his eyes as he turns back to the toilet. Word travels fast at this school, and his mother’s transgressions were the talk of Dragon Hall within a day of his arrival. The puppy jokes and nicknames that have already started are beyond annoying, but there’s not much he can do about it.

He’s focused on finishing now, trying to hurry himself so Jay doesn’t have time to entertain the idea of breaking in the stall. But only a second later he can hear the lock jostling, making him jump a little and drop his aim. He curses at the pee trickling on his feet, shaking off and hurriedly tucking himself in just as Jay frees the latch and pushes the door open.

Carlos is met with a wicked smirk, which Jay immediately drops to a frown when he spots Carlos fumbling the button of his shorts closed.

“Boo, you’re no fun,” he mumbles, sauntering closer. Carlos stumbles back, slamming the backs of his knees into the porcelain bowl of the toilet and causing him to arch awkwardly. He turns his body and catches himself on the tank before he can fall farther, taking the opportunity to flick the handle and flush before he launches himself back.

“Hey there!” Jay snorts, grabbing Carlos around the waist and pulling him close when Carlos’ body lands against him. The boy is quick to twist and squirm, freeing himself from the thief and lunging for the door. Jay is faster though, and slams the stall shut with one hand before Carlos can escape.

“Come now, C, did I say it was time for us to leave??” Jay tuts. Carlos presses his face against the stall door, biting his lip hard to avoid a snappy retort. He’s at Jay’s mercy in this stall, and doubts he’ll be a fair match against the boy’s muscles, rippling obviously from the cutoff sleeves of his vest.

A surprisingly gentle hand cups under Carlos’ chin, guiding his face away from the door. Reluctantly, he follows it, until his body is turned and fully facing Jay. His face is tipped upward to meet Jay’s smile, which seems less menacing but somehow still cocky and triumphant. Carlos can’t fight the sneer on his own lips, which only prompts more laughter from Jay.

“Ohhh, someone’s a little fiery, huh De Vil? You’ve got some balls, considering you’re the one invading my bathroom without my permission.”

Carlos perks a brow, glaring questioningly at the brunette. “Your bathroom? I-I ...really? Ev-I mean, nobody, told me that.”

Jay shakes his head at that, and releases his grip on Carlos’ chin, letting his fingers drop to tease along his jawline instead. Carlos holds his breath at the gentle sensation, pushing himself into the door with enough force that he can feel the latch digging into his back. It’s painful, but if it’s the only way to spare some space between him and Jay, he’ll take what he can get.

“Guess that’s lesson one then, pup,” Jay taunts, fingers still lightly caressing Carlos’ face. “The halls are mine when class is in session. You got that?” Carlos musters a short nod. “Good. And that includes any place there’s not a teacher. You need to use the bathroom? Grab stuff from a storage closet? Or even just hide out in there, you gotta pay the toll.”

“T-toll?”

Jay still feels too close, so Carlos tries to shift back more, which only produces a sharp pain when the latch scrapes him harshly again. He’s grateful for the distraction, though, when Jay dips in closer and grins wide.

“Yep. Everyone’s gotta pay up. No exceptions.”

Carlos stares at Jay for a moment, but feels uneasy when the boy is more than happy to stare back at him, their noses close and practically touching. He swallows thickly then, letting his gaze fall to the floor between them as he carefully sorts his words.

“I-I...but...Jay. Y-you know. I already told...” he looks up for a second and catches a glance at Jay’s now audacious smirk. And that makes him seethe.

“You know I don’t have anything,” Carlos states flatly, feeling a new surge of confidence. “I already told you. My mom’s a bitch, I barely get food and clothes. You think I have shit to spare for you?”

He shrinks back after his bold outburst, waiting for Jay’s response. But the thief doesn’t move, and his smirk doesn’t fade. He does take a generous step back though, allowing almost an arm’s length between him and Carlos. Carlos relaxes slightly at that, breathing a soft sigh of relief when he’s able to free his back from the painful latch. But even with the space between them now, Jay’s eyes never leave his. Carlos hasn’t even seen him blink! And the lingering stare is making him shiver.

“Well, not all tolls have to be cash and stuff, do they?” Jay retorts, licking his lips a little. “I’ve accepted, other...forms of payment. But you know that, don’t you? Smart guy like you. I know you’ve heard the rumors.”

Carlos swallows again, his mouth feeling horribly dry all of a sudden. He has heard the rumors. How could he not? Jay and Mal are the big bads of the school. There’s plenty of stories being passed around by everyone, mostly pointing out the best ways to avoid bodily harm at the hands of the two of them. And while he has heard that both are mostly appeased by money or things to hock for money, the entire student body is also aware of Jay’s willingness to trade, physical pleasures, as well. Though Evie had made it clear that it’s usually girls that makes those kind of offers, the kind that Jay is happy to accept, Carlos can’t help but wonder if that’s what Jay’s implying right now. Because the way he looks at him, and the constant lazy scans of his eyes up and down Carlos’ body, are giving him pause.

Can Jay be asking for that? From Carlos? That seems...impossible.

But then Jay leans back in, bracing an arm above Carlos with a brow cocked and a suggestive curl to his lips, and Carlos thinks it might actually be entirely possible.

“I think you know what I’m thinking.” Jay interrupts Carlos’ thoughts with a waggle of his eyebrows. “Up to you, pup. You barged into my bathroom and used my stall. Now, how are you going to make that up to me, hm?”

Carlos chews on his lip, refusing to dare a look at Jay. He’s not sure what to say if he did, so he keeps his eyes trained on his fingers, tangling and untangling them together while he thinks.

Fuck, he really should have listened to Evie.

Both boys are distracted then by the slam! of the bathroom door and irritably loud clacks across the linoleum.

“Carlos?? Are you in here??”

Evie! Carlos bites back a smile.

“Ev-mmph!”

A hand claps over his mouth, with Jay’s eyes wide and glaring at him. Carlos squirms, twisting away from Jay’s hand and wriggling along the stall door in the process. Then they hear an audible sigh, followed by a few slower clicks forward.

“Carlos, I know you’re in there.”

He wants to answer, but Jay keeps his hand in place, putting a finger to his own lips to silence Carlos.

“Jay, I know you’re in there, too.”

Jay grits his teeth and rolls his eyes as Evie raps harshly on the door.

“Come on, boys. Do you think I can’t see your feet? Stop wasting my time and open up.”

Jay grumbles, dropping his hand from Carlos’ mouth and giving him the chance to scurry away from the door. Jay tries to reach for him again but Carlos slides back quickly, jamming himself behind the toilet and against the cement wall to avoid Jay’s grasp.

“Well fuck,” Jay grunts, giving Carlos a frustrated glare. At that moment they here the latch click, and Jay steps back just in time to avoid the door swinging open.

“Boys,” Evie scolds, her eyes stern as they dart between Jay and Carlos, before finally settling on the dark haired boy in front of her.

“And what do you think you’re doing, Jay?” she scolds, crossing her arms as she glares coldly at him. “You know you don’t belong in here.”

“Calm down, Blue,” Jay snickers. “You know damn well I go wherever I want. Besides, you’re the one in the men’s room, aren’t you? Last time I checked, you weren’t properly...equipped, to come in here.”

He glares back at her, a proud smirk splayed on his lips. But Evie doesn’t falter, stepping forward instead and marching her way slowly towards the other boy in the corner.

“As if I’d ever want to use a men’s room anyway,” she snaps back, reaching a hand towards Carlos, He grabs it, intertwining their fingers with a relieved smile. Evie flashes a grin his way before returning to Jay with a disgusted sneer.

“And you’ve never seen what I’m equipped with, so don’t you dare try to go around talking about me like I would actually stoop to being one of your little fucktoys.”

She gives Carlos a gentle tug and he springs quickly away from the wall, following Evie’s lead to stand behind her, placing her between him and Jay.

“This bathroom is neutral territory and you know it.” Evie grits, leaning into Jay’s face. “You’re this close to doing your own chemistry homework,” she threatens with a pinch of her fingers. “I bet Jafar wouldn’t be too keen on you getting kicked out of school and losing all your marks here.”

Jay scoffs and looks away, but stays silent. Evie breaks into a smug grin, shoving Jay lightly in the chest. “So, Carlos and I are going to leave now, and you can find another form of payment elsewhere. Got it?”

She whips away before Jay can respond and struts out of the stall, dragging Carlos along behind her. They manage to reach the door before Jay stomps out after them.

“Hey! You wanna be a little bitch then we could just re-nig on our deal! What do you think of that? Just leave you to the fucking wolves at this school. Puppy, too,” he adds with a nod to Carlos. “You’ll get beat so bad the first week you’ll be begging for us again!”

Evie’s gaze softens, and she looks at Jay with a bit of pity before turning back to Carlos.

“Sweetie, go right out the door and wait for me, ok?” Evie asks gently, but Carlos’ brow is furrowed, and he looks confused.

“But-”

“Carlos, please? I’ll be right out. We just need to...talk. It’ll just take a minute.”

Carlos watches her for a moment, searching her face. She smiles brightly at him, and he finally nods and walks out into the hall and leaves them alone.

Evie gives an exasperated sigh. “Look,” she starts, and she reachs for Jay’s hand to give it a squeeze. His eyes widen in surprise at the gesture. “I’m going to let this slide, ok? I just...don’t think you’re thinking straight right now.”

Jay throws a heated glare at Evie as her lips twitch into a smirk. “You don’t think you’re being subtle, do you?” she chuckles, shaking her head. “Carlos may not see what’s going on, but he’s the only one that’s clueless, Jay.”

She drops his hand and takes a step back, reaching for the door handle. “He’s my friend,” she whispers, just loud enough for Jay to hear. “And I’m going to protect him, so just...don’t do anything you might regret.”

Evie pulls the door open slightly and moves to leave, but pauses when she hears Jay snickering behind her.

“What, is that supposed to be some kind of threat?”

She glances up through the doorway and catches a glimpse of Carlos just outside. His eyes are wide with curiosity and worry, and Evie can’t stop herself from smiling.

“Take it however you want, Jay,” she quips over her shoulder. “I was only trying to give you some friendly advice.”

“We’re not friends,” he hisses through his teeth.

"Maybe we’re not,” Evie replies coldly, “But we’re not enemies, are we? Unless you want to change that? You know where to find me if you do,” she teases with a wiggle of her fingers.

“Bye for now, Jay-Jay.”

Evie giggles to herself as she walks out of the bathroom, ignoring the muffled roars coming from behind the now closed door and looping her arm through Carlos’ to pull him along.

“We can study at my house tonight, ok? I just need to see about fixing one little problem and then we can get going.”

#jaylos #jay x carlos #jay son of jafar #Carlos De Vil #evie grimhilde #mal bertha #descendants #the isle of the lost #platonic!carvie #malvie #platonic!jal #my writing #the heart will follow

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pomegranates-and-blood · 3 years

Text

νοσταλγία (Chapter 34)

νοσταλγία Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Word Count: 6k (I know I shouldn’t say sorry but...sorry 🥺)

Warnings: The usual, passing mentions of (past) sexual assault

A/N: This basically has no Ivar, for obvious reasons, so I know it is long but I didn’t want to leave you guys with two weeks before the story moves forward Ivar-wise. Sorry for the long chapter, and sorry if this isn’t very much to your liking, I tried lol.

Again with me and animals and references to deities: howling dogs are symbols of Melinöe, Greek Goddess of madness, nightmares, and ghosts; though there’s a duality to be associated with her, that for the sake of this story I took to her influence being both of nightmares and dreams, of madness and comfort; because she is represented in Freydis (or I attempt that) and she isn’t just a bitch, y’know? Melinöe is also considered a daughter of Persephone but in some stuff she is put together with her as one and referred to as a nymph and queen too.

You don’t think you’ve been able to lower your eyes from the skies since that day. Almost two weeks have gone by, and you start thinking maybe you imagined her voice behind you, imagined a ghost whispering somehow they had survived.

Sitting carefully on the ground, batting away the hand that Galla extends to try and help you, you start, “You know Lysander wants to make you his.”

She doesn’t miss a beat when she replies casually, “He has already.”

Galla only snorts at your scandalized expression.

“I mean make you his wife.” You explain with a shake of your head, returning your gaze ahead.

“I won’t leave you behind.”

“You would be the wife of the most powerful man in free Greece.”

“Or I could be the second in command of the most powerful woman in free Greece,” She retorts just as easily. After a moment, Galla sighs, “The Gods brought us together as children, my friend. Time couldn’t separate us, nor distance.

She lifts her hand to touch the side of your waist, where the bandages still press at the burnt skin.

“Not even death could separate us,” She vows, before offering a smile and turning back ahead, “Your Fate and mine are intertwined.”

And now here you sit, on a familiar clearing somewhere near Kattegat’s coast, watching the sun rise and not knowing how to decide between looking at the sea waiting for those ships to return or at the sky waiting for the falcon to guide you.

You hear soft footsteps behind you, but you do not turn to watch Freydis approach. The heavy winds blow at your hair, your gaze focused on the sea that accompanies the winds in their chaos.

“What are you doing here?”

“I want you to know I am sorry.” Freydis whispers from behind you, the pain that forces her voice to break making your eyes fall closed as if you can keep the compassion away by guarding back tears.

You offer her a nod and, as always, she understands your silent words, sitting beside you on the cold grass. Almost shoulder to shoulder but not quite.

Saying you forgive her would hurt your pride, saying there’s nothing to be sorry for would be a lie.

“You betrayed me.” Is what you state, a reminder both for her and you.

Freydis nods her head, not hesitating.

“I did.”

You smile, but it is watery and broken and weak.

“I should kill you.”

A few beats of silence, and…

“You should.”

“But I won’t,” You confess, angry at yourself, smiling at your own weakness, “Too soft a heart.”

“It isn’t a fault.”

“Isn’t it?” You quip bitterly.

Freydis sighs, “You are warm, and good, and soft. Don’t…don’t let this place change that, harden you more than it already has.”

“I have no reason to heed your advice now, Freydis.”

“Yet you do anyways.”

You consider her words in silence, accompanied only by the distant sound of a busy world at your backs and the waves breaking at the coast in front of you.

“I-…once you and I would have been one and the same,” Your arms wrap around your legs, bringing your knees closer to your chest, like you can keep the cold hand of regret from gripping your heart if you hold yourself tight enough. “Back in my city, in my kingdom…I did all you ask out of me now. I fooled a man into loving me, into believing everything I told him. I could have told him he was a God, and he would have walked this earth as if he were one. It is a terrible thing, what love can do to us,” Your last words fall from your lips in a breath that could be a sob, but with your lips pressed tightly into a line you breathe deeply and continue, “I did to him all I know I could do now. I laid with him, I held and kissed him, I whispered promises in his ear, I gave him my hand, I…I told him I loved him.”

Freydis says nothing for a few moments, but then her voice, rougher than usual, not so carefully feminine, not so mechanically dainty, asks, “What happened to him?”

You offer her a shrug, “He died. For his arrogance, for my hesitation, for…our mistakes,” Resting your chin on your knees, you keep your gaze on the horizon and explain, “He was my friend, I knew him since we were children and when I returned to Attica he was…”

She offers her strength when your words die, “In power.”

“I knew he wanted me. We women always do, don’t we?” A small chuckle, you don’t know from whose lips, “A-And I used it against him, I…hardened my heart and I pretended to want him too, to love him too.”

“In exchange for what?”

“His strength, his army. When the Byzantines sent their Christians to…convert us, he and his men fought for our frontiers, cut down their numbers.” You answer automatically, and past the pain there’s pride making your voice unwavering.

“Nothing, compared to what you could get now.”

“And yet I don’t want it, not like this. Not this time.” You vow, jaw set tight and eyes certain when they find her own. Freydis offers only a nod to signal she accepts your choice -or pretends to-, and silence reigns for a while between you.

It feels comfortable, familiar, even if you know it shouldn’t.

“Does Ivar know of that man?”

“Of course he does,” You reply instantly, turning to her with the beginning of a cruel smile on your lips, “Surely you don’t think I trust you more than I trust him.”

She returns the same kind of smile, “Once, you did.”

“And look where that trust has left me.”

She scoffs, “You speak as if trusting him was any better. After all he did to you.”

“Freydis…” You warn, and the blond shrugs, looking ahead with stubborn determination.

“Not a smart thing, I know.” She acquiesces anyways, remembering your words from the last time you talked.

She stays silent, reminding you starkly of that night where she found you pleading with Gods that didn’t answer to explain why your Fate had to be so, reminding you of how she sat next to you in silence, hesitant at how to be honest, true, soft.

But yet she remains at your side. A prisoner awaiting judgement, or a snake awaiting the chance to strike, you do not know.

“Why did you do it? Why tell him of that merchant?”

“I wanted to…understand. I wanted answers. To whether you’d leave if given the chance, to whether he’d believe you would.”

“That’s…”

“Cruel?” She finishes for you, before offering another shrug. “Maybe. He has done worse. You have done worse.”

She has a point.

“Why…why make him believe I see a monster when I look at him?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” You reply, maybe more forcefully than you should have, but you’re frankly tired of games.

“Because it is what he already believed,” She answers simply, as if the answer is clear for everyone to see. “You know the man you married; he needs certainty. He held on to the certainty that you’d leave him, and I had no interest in seeing him believe otherwise.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know if the case is other,” Freydis shrugs, and turns to you, “Is it true? Do you love him?”

Your mouth curves into a half-smile, “You expect me to trust you with a secret now?”

Freydis falters, and loses a bit of her edge, a bit of her unwavering resolve.

You think Ivar isn’t the only one that needs certainty, but you keep your mouth shut.

She offers a sigh as she turns to face the horizon, “It isn’t a secret.”

You leave her behind on that hill overlooking the sea, hearing the faint sound of dogs howling in the distance, and it feels like you leave behind a part of you.

____

Days pass, and the dreams don’t cease, and you wake up still hearing hissing snakes and howling dogs and…Gods, you might lose your mind soon.

You could tell yourself it is the dreams, the messages from the Gods, what makes you sit down in front of her in the apothecary, a mortar in your hands. You could tell yourself it is morbid curiosity, the desire to hear how she has betrayed you once again, what makes your movements so alike hers that first time when she sat before you and offered you a smile.

You could tell yourself many things, but we don’t change the truth by spinning a different tale.

Freydis doesn’t lift her gaze, but you notice her take a deep breath as you start grinding the herbs across from her.

“You vowed once that I would regret it if I ever betrayed you,” She states, and her dainty voice wavers. Freydis closes her eyes, “Well, I regret it. I…you have no idea how much I regret what I did.”

“I don’t care about regret, Freydis.”

Her expression falters, and you could swear there’s tears shining in her blue eyes. Her lip trembles, and…Gods, this is the first time you have seen her without a mask on, isn’t it?

“I-I love you,” She offers. An excuse, a plea, an accusation. “I…I…”

“What you did, you did out of love?” You ask, spitting back the words she said when the bodies of those merchants were still fresh. When you were surrounded by the evidence of Ivar’s cruelty and the results of her games.

“I did.” She promises, voice frail and small.

You look into her eyes, and ponder on the weight of such a small word.

“Narses tried silencing me, pushed me to be meek and obedient. He called it love, I stayed quiet and pretended that was what love was,” You tell her, voice quiet, “My mother left me without any explanation, handed my freedom to a man I didn’t know. I’m sure she called it love, but she isn’t here for me to tell her it felt like…abandonment.

Your gaze lowers to your hands, and it is both to you and to her that you admit the truth as the words leave your lips,

“Ivar put chains on me and dragged me all the way to his kingdom, forced me to be his wife. If you were to have asked him then, he would have called it love, though now both of us would admit that it was something else.

She answers with silence, and it unsettles you, but you don’t loosen the straight line of your spine, you don’t lose the hardened edge in your eyes as you lift them back up to meet Freydis’.

“You played games with me as a pawn, you were responsible for the death of innocents, you hurt me,” You bite back the anger, but it still resonates in your voice as it raises, “You toyed with Ivar’s head, you caused him pain. And you called it love,” You spit out the last words, but Freydis holds her ground, not hesitating in holding your gaze, “That isn’t love, Freydis. Betrayal isn’t love.

A barely-there flinch, but you notice it. And a part of you that you shouldn’t allow to be is cruelly delighted in hurting her.

“Trusting someone, trusting them enough to fulfill their promises, trusting them enough to be honest, that I do call love.”

She lifts her chin, and insists, although there isn’t accusation in her tone when she speaks.

“You trusted me, once.”

“I did. Because I loved you, and I love you still,” And there it is where your resolve falters, at the admission of why it hurts the way it does, why it stings and tears and breaks. Your smile is hopeless and it trembles on your lips, “You were the first kind face I saw here, you were-…you are someone that makes me feel…safe.”

“You make me feel safe too,” She confesses, before frowning and lowering her gaze. “You make everything complicated. Everything stops making sense and I…I shouldn’t have done what I did. I…would you believe me if I told you I am jealous of him?”

And for a moment the smell of mint overpowers anything else. You shake your head, dispelling the scent and any other thoughts.

You watch carefully as Ivar extends curious fingers to one of the newer plants you brought in. He plucks a leaf without any consideration, but you hold your tongue and watch him bring it to his nose.

“Mint,” You tell him without prompting, “Mint was a nymph, once. Did I ever tell you of why Hiereiai don’t take their marriage vows lightly?”

His lips pull into a slow smile as his eyes turn to you, and he shakes his head.

“Well, the God and Goddess of the Underworld are, in their own way, symbols of loyalty, and fidelity. They never stray, they never betray one another.

You cross the distance between you and take a seat next to Ivar on the cushioned lounge, watching with a small smile as he continues to twirl the small leaf of mint between his fingers.

“Of course, there are those who try testing that. The tale goes that there was a nymph that used to stride through the fields of flowers with the maiden my Goddess once was. This nymph, a beautiful and alluring woman, was...fascinating enough that Lord Hades desired her, and made her his, long before he set eyes on who then would be his wife.

You settle better on your place as you recall the old story, a story you have known and cherished for so long that, like so many others, it feels like a part of your own story by now.

“But when he abducted my Goddess and made her Queen, the nymph was forgotten, discarded. Nothing in the eyes of the God of the Dead compared to his wife, you see,” You share a smile with your husband, a smile that makes your heart quicken its beat in your chest, and continue, “Still, the nymph boasted that the new Queen of the Underworld was no match to her beauty, to her wit. And so, it is said that in that field where Hades first saw his wife, Minthe would wait, trying to seduce the God back to her side.”

“Did she succeed?”

You shake your head with a slight chuckle, “Some say Hades was enraged at the mere thought of failing his promise to his wife, and witness to such poor mimicry of the Goddess he loved, he struck Minthe there, turned her into a pitiful plant,” Ivar discards the small leaf and bends down to reach for your legs, making you rest them across his lap. You settle better, grateful for the relief from the cold, and trying not to tremble like some foolish maiden at the rhythmic caress of rough hands up and down your calves, you continue, “Others say it was my Goddess, and not her husband, the one that answered the call, and that she punished Minthe for the offense of trying to take what is hers. And so mint is untoched by each passing spring not as a mercy, but as an act of cruelty by the Goddess that scorns her.”

“Maybe the nymph was after your Godess, though. Maybe it was Kore she wanted the love of, and she scorned Hades for taking her from her,” He offers, and you startle, leaning back. Still, you are unable to keep the smile that curves at your lips. Ivar shrugs, and his smile is a little darker when he continues, “Your Mistress turned a God into a thief, you think she couldn’t turn a nymph into something else too?”

Your chest feels tight, because you do have a soft heart, and a part of you never stopped being the foolish girl that used to whisper to the plants she kept with her in the Silk Roads that if they fought and grew she would protect them and keep them alive.

Voice soft and low, you promise, “You won’t ever lose me because of Ivar,” But because you cannot help it, because a part of you never stopped being the woman that prided herself in killing and dying to protect those she loved, you add, “The same way Ivar won’t ever lose me because of you.”

Freydis focuses on her work, and for a while you remain in silence, for so long you start thinking she won’t speak again.

But she does, more than a bit of anger -though not at you- in her tone when she states,

“You don’t know what it is like, being alone. I have been at the hands of the worst of men, I have been beaten, starved, raped, humiliated,” And the woman that could be a nightmare to any man raises her chin, coldness in her eyes and strength in the straight line of her spine. You hide your pride and pain, both for her, and remain silent. Freydis smiles brokenly to herself, tears finally falling down her face, “I know fear, and I know pain, I have known them for a long time. And yet, the worst thing in this world is not being broken, defiled, or in chains,” A deep breath, some of the strength wavers, “The worst thing is, in such a wide world, being...alone.”

A small smile curves at your lips when you think that Freydis was the first person to treat you like…well, a person, aside from Ivar. She didn’t see a witch, a woman here to fool their King, a Saxon spy, a foreigner.

She saw you, more clearly than you would have thought then, you realize now; but she saw you, and she was friendly, and kind, and just honest enough.

She stands before you in the dark, in the whirlwind of chaos that Ivar and Fate have brought to your life. She sees your tears, and there’s rage in her blue eyes.

Still, she offers honesty, she offers relief, she offers a stretched hand, “You aren’t alone.”

She never left you alone.

“I…guess I have been fortunate. I have always had people at my side.” You whisper quietly, but you don’t think she hears the silent gratitude in your voice.

“More fortunate than you know, witch,” She agrees, nodding to herself. She turns her body to you, facing you directly and fiercely, even if regret swims in those blue eyes, “I don’t want to be alone, and I don’t want you to be alone either. I am sorry, for what I did, for what I...do.”

“It doesn’t matter anymore, Freydis. It is done,” You interrupt, pressing your lips into a line and hoping this is not a mistake when you offer, “What matters is what you choose now.”

The blonde shrugs, a small, apologetic and broken smile on her lips, “I…love you. I want to be someone you can trust, I want…I want to deserve your trust.”

Stupidly, naively maybe, you believe her. So, you agree with a nod of your head, and return your gaze to the dried herbs you’re working on, “Alright, then it shall be so.”

“I…I, uh, I don’t-…”

“I love you, Freydis.” You whisper, stealing a glance to her wide eyes and when your gaze meets hers you hope she knows you are honest.

The girl’s lip trembles for a moment before she returns her gaze ahead, and she lifts her chin, proud and refusing to admit the weakness of emotion. You stifle a small pleased smile when you see her, and it is only the question that leaves her lips next that keeps you from embracing her.

“So, are you planning on staying?”

If Stithulf were to die today…

“That’s…not a question I want to answer.” You offer nervously, mouth suddenly dry and heart skipping a few beats.

“You feel you must return to Greece. Your home calls to you.”

Yoi shake your head, “I don’t know where my home is. But…I have a legacy to uphold. My mother and father died for my freedom, I cannot turn my back on their sacrifice for…”

“Love?” She supplies when you quieten, startling you both with her implication and her certainty when she continues, “You put your duty before love once, and you still shed tears for it. Do you want to do it again?”

No.

You shake your head, ridding yourself of useless and jumbled thoughts, and close your eyes against the torrent of emotions and fears and hopes. You reach for a batch of dried Feverfew and Chamomile, and offer her half so she starts working.

“We must now just…hope the winter is kind to us. And when spring comes…we will see.”

If your voice is ragged, if your eyes shine, she does not mention it, instead taking the herbs and lowering her gaze.

After a while of comfortable silence, the blonde asks,

“What does spring mean to you?”

“Change,” You reply easily, although it never is. “Whether we want it or not.”

“To us it means war. They go raiding again, they go kill and die again, when spring comes.

The day goes by, and you two sit there, shoulder to shoulder, Varangian to Greek, woman to woman, surrounded by the one place where you can feel warm while Ivar is gone.

A call of your name interrupts the easy nothingness of your mind, and you turn your attention to Freydis as she offers you her hand, stretched between you like who seals a deal.

“Wherever your Gods or mine take you, I shall be at your side,” She promises, her smile a little hungry and a little happy. “I swear it.”

Your eyes go to her outstretched hand, and for some reason it reminds you of the fists over the hearts of thousands of Attics, vowing loyalty to an Anassa you don’t know if you can be.

“I don’t need a slave, Freydis,” You say cautiously, lifting your gaze to her certain and unwavering blue eyes. “I need a friend.”

“I’ll learn,” She promises, fierce, a small smile on her lips that speaks of a woman that wants to swallow the world. You return it, even if guardedly, and grab tightly at her forearm as she does the same. “You have my word.”

____

You don’t know how long it has been, where you’ve stood there like who has seen a ghost, watching the falcon circling the longhouse.

Zephyr.

It is close to dusk, too close for any wild animal to be hunting. You know it is him, you know it like you know winter approaches fast.

You step out from the longhouse, your feet trailing after nothing, your eyes on the horizon, on the trees beyond the walls, where you know a ghost awaits.

Zephyr, loyal beast that he always was, lands on a nearby roof with a screech, as if finally content that you’ve heard his call.

You watch him take off again, go far past the walls, and try to think of a way out of Kattegat.

____

There’s a prayer being whispered past your lips, where you plead this isn’t the choice that dooms you.

You loom over Freydis’ sleeping form and reach a quiet hand to press over her mouth. Her blue eyes open, startled, but you shush her with a gesture. She relaxes soon enough, and you cautiously remove your hand from her mouth. The blonde girl sits up, a thousand questions written in her eyes that you promise you’ll answer once she comes outside with you.

She does, and the darkness of the city feels suffocating when you turn to her.

“You once told me a slave, better than anyone, knows of the ways out of a kingdom.” You whisper.

A few moments of silence, of baited breath, where you almost consider she will scream for the guards, sell your secrets to whoever will listen for a pat in the back. But she finally presses her lips together, and gives you a firm nod.

She guides you in the comfort of darkness to a path you did not know of, and with expertise she predicts the marching feet of the guards, motioning for you to move.

“You don’t have much time. If you don’t return before the sun rises…”

“I will return.” You promise, eyes already set on the path she pointed to.

You follow the impatient cries of a falcon through misty woods, catching your stumbling steps by grabbing into the branches and the trunks of trees. Night usually feels suffocating, but the promise of reunion and the hope beating in your chest keep you from feeling anything but anticipation.

A whisper of your name, and your eyes, already used mildly to the complete darkness, catch the slim figure waiting by one of the trees.

“Galla!” You exclaim, thinking too late of keeping your voice low. In no time you are embracing her and she you, hushed relieved laughs escaping your lips.

She’s real, and solid, and warm under your hands. She’s alive.

“I’ve missed you. I thought the worse, when we lost sight of you in Dublin.”

You shake your head, a watery laugh making its way past your lips.

“I was told you were all dead,” You shut your eyes tight, angry at your own foolishness, “I should have known better than to trust that Christian’s word.”

“We lost about a third of our people, seven hundred or so, those too weak to run or fight. And less than a hundred are either with Stithulf or elsewhere,” She whispers grimly, “But we are faring well, we scavenged and stole what we needed. We will set up, but far from here, lest we are seen as a threat while Kattegat’s King is away.”

A part of you wants to find a way to let Kattegat give them the support they need, but…but if you were planning on letting Ivar know the Greeks live, you wouldn’t have snuck out in the middle of the night.

You swallow thickly, and ask,

“Have you heard from Sieghild? Have they…found Narses?”

She shakes her head sadly, “Nothing but rumors about your mother. And Narses…he is probably buried in a Christian grave.”

With your eyes on hers, with trembling hands, with a hope you haven’t dared voice making the words that come out of your lips hoarse, you whisper, “Maybe h-…”

Galla interrupts you with another shake of her head, “I saw how the Varangians took him down. That he reached you before collapsing was a last mercy from Ares.”

You told Narses on the eve of the last battle he fought that if he insisted on holding against the onslaught of Ivar the Boneless’ forces, that if he sacrificed your people for a Christian’s dream of revenge; and dared survive, you would kill him yourself. But nor the vitriol of your last encounter or the resentment that grew in your last months together can keep you from sobbing his name when the reality of him not existing anymore settles in your chest.

There’s a finality to having someone that knew him, that saw the warmth in his eyes and heard his voice and his laugh, tell you he is gone.

“That fool.” You croak out, furrowing your brow as useless tears fall down your face.

“I’m sorry.” Galla whispers, but you shake your head. The dead don’t need your tears, they are in a better place. Or so you were told.

“Let’s pray the Mistress is merciful when she greets him,” You offer in response after a few minutes of silence, before resting your shoulder against a tree and asking, “How did you know I was in Kattegat?”

“Word of a Greek witch becoming wife to a famous Viking runs fast,” She offers, the word that the Norsemen have for their people still strange in her tongue. With a smile, Galla continues, “Wife and Queen. Only you would be stupidly brave enough to survive Ivar the Boneless.”

“I’m going to ignore the ‘stupid’ part.” You tease softly, still smiling at a ghost.

She chuckles, and continues, “I have been getting closer and closer to this place for weeks now.”

Your brow furrows, and you cannot keep yourself from asking, “And you deemed it safe? You somehow knew I was going to be able to cross the walls.”

“You are free here, freer than...than you have been in a long time, I think. I don’t know the King, but I’ve heard how his wife seems sent by the Gods, both for his sake and his home’s. And I do know you, and I know you wouldn’t repeat the same mistakes you made with Narses.”

You swallow past a knot in your throat, “What are you saying?”

“There’s no man in this world that could force a ring on your hand,” She states dryly, not an edge of hesitation in her voice. “Was your mother right, after all?”

“My mother?”

“That it would take a Viking man to tame a daughter of hers.”

She betrays a smile, and you let go of a tension you didn’t know you were holding. With a lift of your eyebrow, you say,

“Do I look tamed, Galla?”

Her smile widens, gleeful and a little devious, like all her smiles always have been; and Galla shakes her head, reaching for your left hand and lowering her gaze to your ring.

“You’ve heard of Laconia, have you not?” She asks casually, rough finger tracing the flowers engraved in the band on your fourth finger.

“I have.”

Dark eyes meet yours, “We have a place to fall back to. A safe haven to regroup, to gather our strength again.”

“And retake Attica,” You finish for her, straightening your back. “We’d have Sparta’s army, and Lysander’s victory instills fear in the Christians.”

Galla only looks at you in silence, considering you with the probing gaze of someone so used to shadows you sometimes believe she doesn’t see people and instead sees secrets.

“As an Attic, by heart if not by blood, I ought to ask my Anassa to lead us,” She sentences, making your heart drop. After a moment, she adverts her eyes from yours, licks her lips and breathes for a moment before continuing, “But I have seen you die, too many times for me to rest easy at night.”

“Galla?”

She takes a deep breath.

“As myself, as the woman that loves you, I’m asking my oldest and dearest friend not to return to fight a war she lost already,” She finishes, at the way you frown and step back only pushing forward, “Narses is dead, there’s no chains binding you to us.”

“I am one of you!”

Galla shakes her head, unmovable, “Not fully. You’re not fully theirs either, but-…”

“No,” You sentence, meeting her eyes and stepping forward again. Though your voice is hushed, you try summoning all your strength to the words you speak, “Circumstance doesn’t change my nature. I am Greek, I am Hiereia, I am your Anassa.”

It feels like heavy chains being put on your wrists, to admit that, to accept that. It feels like the same chains Ivar had men put on your wrists, before he took you from everything you loved.

“And you are his wife, you are their Queen.”

You will not hear anymore of this. It is pointless, it is something you could argue on for hours on end and never reach a solution. It is something that pulls tight at your chest with every passing breath where you have to be aware of how much Fate truly manages to tear you in two.

“Find our people a safe place to spend winter at. More than one town will grant you shelter until spring in exchange for labor in the last harvest of the year,” You order, eyes looking at the nothingness ahead of you as you try finding a way. “Don’t let them know you’re Greeks.”

“And your husband? You think anyone can keep a man like him from knowing about us? We are a threat, Greek or not.”

“He doesn’t have to know I know,” You sentence, even though you know it is a foolish choice. If you can just keep these two worlds apart for a while longer… “Galla, I just…need more time. Allow me this winter.”

“And when spring comes?”

You offer a shrug, “Change will come with it.”

“I won’t force you t-…”

“You should know by now forcing me to do something doesn’t work out particularly well,” You interrupt, trying to find resolve in all this madness. Eyeing the forest around you, you find yourself needing to say goodbye again. “I hope the winter is kind. If…if something happens, if you need me…send Zephyr to the skies, and I’ll be here.”

You embrace her, tightly and with a hint of anger at Fate for making you mourn her for so long, and she does the same, for so long the cold seeps into you when you step away.

“Stay safe, may the Gods watch over you.”

Galla smiles, “Our Gods and theirs, may they be with you.”

____

You have wondered, in the days that pass since you have last seen her, if this is selfish of you. Wanting to remain in this world in between worlds. Wanting more time.

Maybe it is selfish of you, maybe it is cruel, maybe it is hopeless. You still pray, as the nights grow longer and the days colder, that as Persephone returns to her husband, not only do they allow yours to return to you, but that they allow you more time.

Your life, your death, is in their hands; all you ask for is time.

This morning, when you walk out the door of the longhouse as the cold sun rises, you extend a hand, and feel the faintest of snowflakes falling on your skin, melting over the back of your hand like a kiss.

“My Queen!” Someone calls out, and you turn to the boy that comes running towards you, “The ships, we see them.”

Your heart leaps in your chest, restlessness taking a hold of you, impatient feet wishing to forget pretenses and run to those docks.

“T-Thank you.” You tell him, and he leaves with bow of his head back to where he came from. For a few moments too long, you linger in the idea of going to the docks to wait for them.

“It’s still a while for the ships to get here, you mad woman.” Hvitserk calls out from behind you, and you turn to him with a smile.

“They told you.”

“Mhm. I told you they’d return in time,” Hvitserk quips, putting his arm around you and hugging you to his side for a moment. “Now you’re stuck with my bother for the winter.”

He accompanies you to the healers, and helps you work on getting everything ready for the injured or sick that may need assistance when the warriors finally land.

Before long, able to distract yourself with your work, you find yourself watching with baited breath as the ships dock.

You meet familiar eyes and kiss familiar lips, and the world ceases to exist.

The cold of winter is biting over your exposed skin, and you were taught, all your life, that the dawning of winter meant the grief of a mother losing her child, meant a maiden was taken from the place she belonged and the world withered in her absence.

It doesn’t feel like death, winter. It doesn’t feel like absence, like grief. Like a departure.

It feels like warmth, winter. It feels like home, like love. Like a return.

____ ____ ____

Obvious references to the God Ivar storyline are obvious. But, as much as I vehemently hate that plot, it gave us Freydis as we know her, and I love writing her, so I had to reference it.

Is it absolutely fucking stupid to trust Freydis again? Yes. Is she doing it anyways? Also yes. Soft heart, what can I tell ya.

Oh, and yeah, Minthe is also a deity I related to Freydis. Many times during the story, especially in ‘key’ moments where Freydis is witness to something between the Reader and Ivar, the Reader mentions smelling mint. Surprise lol. Just a little nod to a nymph that wanted to fuck Hades and to Persephone’s jealousy, that’s about it. But Ivar’s take on it is my favorite bit of that flashback, even if mythology-wise it doesn’t make a lick of sense lol.

Anyhow, hope you liked this! Would love to hear your thoughts on it, and thank you so so much for reading!! I love ya!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius @heavenly1927 @toe-vind-ek-jou @xbellaxcarolinax @pieces-by-me @angelofthorr @samsationalwilson @peachyboneless @1950schick @punkrocknpearls @ietss @itsmysticalmystery @revolution-starter @chibisgotovalhalla @the-a-word-2214 @fae-sedai @crazybunnyladysworld

#ivar the boneless x reader #ivar x reader #ivar the boneless imagine #ivar the boneless #ivar #νοσταλγία masterlist

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shadowhuntering · 3 years

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Matthew & Alastair comparison

I’ve been re-reading Chain of Gold in prep for Chain of Iron and I've noticed that Matthew and Alastair are a foil of each other.

I’ve also been re-reading Cast Long Shadows for investigative purposes and it furthers my realization.

Matthew and Alastair have been through similar issues, but are the opposite (if that makes sense) in some ways. eg. Alastair had to pick up after Elias who is a drunk; Matthew is also a drunk. How they responded to these issues tells you a lot about their nature.

This is my observations, purely for analytical purposes so if I sound particularly harsh towards a character, I do not mean to be.

1. Personalities are the opposite to the other.

Matthew’s personality is literally meant to "blind people" because he's sunny, outgoing and is meant to be the life of the party (or his mask).

Alastair on the other hand is literally "dark" he is broody, not very forth coming and can be very prickly

Ironically though, both have the façade of being conceited when they are the opposite. Though you could argue that Matthew’s alcoholism is a result of being selfish. However, he has little regard for himself which is the danger.

Definition of selfish: Concerned chiefly or excessively with oneself, and having little regard for others.

2. They share a similar notion of love not being real, or won't last.

Alastair just having a very pessimistic view in general, but Matthew says it about himself. He has full faith that other people will have happiness, where he doesn’t see it happening for himself.

3. Alastair is unapologetically himself, whereas with Matthew he hasn’t been himself for a while, and even back before the events of Cast Long Shadows he was trying to fulfill what people needed at the time.

Matthew cares too much about the people around him to think about himself, but also tries not to care as he fulfills the bad reputation people have of him. He has a mask/façade(s) to help liven or distract, yet he also openly degrades himself. He keeps people at arms length so that they will not be disappointed by him, but also forms close bonds with people. He so badly wants someone to love him, but he doesn't want to help himself or be vulnerable to other people. He’s a walking contradiction.

Alastair does regret the things he did, but he doesn't think less of himself because of them. He did all those things to protect himself from hurt. Alastair also doesn’t care for his attitude. It’s not his problem if people don’t like it basically 😂 He clearly has people he cares about like Sona and Cordelia and prioritises them also. He is also actively trying to right his wrongs on not dwell on his past. He wants to move on with his life.

4. Matthew doesn't want to help himself, Alastair does want to help himself and become a better person.

Matthew openly degrades himself yet keeps his own secrets and thoughts of himself. He self-destructs as he feels he deserves it, even when people reach out and try to care for his well-being and that of others they also love (eg. Lucie’s confrontation). He doesn't see that he is hurting the people around him and also himself because of his attitude towards his own life really. He doesn’t have much of a quality for life. He is clearly depressed. He fails to let anyone in because he doesn’t want to help himself and also thinks too much about what people think of him when honestly the perception they have of him now is probably much lower now because 1. how he has chosen to deal with his mistake 2. how he has kept it to himself therefore making it look like the people who care about him would cast him out.

Alastair knows what he did wrong and is trying to improve himself for the betterment of himself. It was evident that at the time of Cordelia finding out about Charles, he wanted to break free, but once he got over being mad at Cordelia for snooping (rightfully so tbh) he understood that she loves him and would give him the support he needed; he had the inspiration from her to commit to moving forward and make amends for himself. Sure, he kept people at arms length in order to protect himself but inherently he does make himself vulnerable for other people. He still let in Charles, made himself vulnerable to love. Then with Thomas... he let Thomas see his guard down in Paris (and before that Thomas just saw right through him) and he ended up allowing Cordelia in, taking heed of her advice and love. He knew that Charles was hurting him and other people, so he stood up to him. He is much more open and vulnerable which is ironic really.

To me, the progression Alastair has already made makes me believe that the same will come for Matthew. However, the bottom line here is that Matthew self-destructs and doesn’t want to help himself whereas Alastair wants to be a better person and look after himself. Alastair has self-love which is what Matthew severely lacks.

5. Both had to grow up fast due to responsibilities of looking after their father...

Matthew arguably has "Mommy issues". This is not me making excuses for Matthew, or even criticizing Charlotte in any way, this is just my interpretation of Cast Long Shadows...

Matthew seems to have low self-esteem and love for himself due to abandonment issues it seems. He probably felt abandoned as a child by Charlotte. It's not that he was unsupportive of her or holds anything against her, but when you look at it objectively, his upbringing shaped his reaction to Alastair and to himself. She literally left him crying at 6 years old and told him to "look after your father" as she had to go off with Charles. Cast Long Shadows is a huge emphasis of how the feeling of abandonment from Charlotte, leading to how he instantly believed that Charlotte had an affair with Gideon and took drastic action. This I feel is because he never felt comfortable to openly discuss to her about himself really. He also didn't trust her...

I do not wish to insult Charlotte as her job is serious and I'm so proud of her, but unfortunately, due to it, it made an impact on who Matthew is now. He didn't trust, nor feel comfortable enough to sit down and talk to Charlotte because he never really got to know her properly or wanted to burden her. It probably also felt like she had favoritism over Charles, and Matthew didn't want to step on her toes. She also never noticed the little things he did like make her favourite scones and he just went feeling unloved or unappreciated (though he should have said something?). She would ask of him to be sensible, didn't really engage much in his humor which probably contributed to how he viewed himself as well as he already was so self-conscious and was vying for her attention. No offense to Henry but his immersion into his science probably left Matthew feeling abandoned as well as he was the one caring for him, then Christopher is the one who understands and engages. Matthew was his carer, effectively, making sure he ate, drank, slept and wheeled him about. He did love his father though, so he didn’t mind. Though Henry does praise him when he breaks the news about them expecting which just made Matthew feel more guilty of his accidental poisoning.

It’s like Matthew wants all of the attention, but he never voices what he wants aloud. This results with no one paying him much heed. In Cast Long Shadows there is also a comparison to James and Lucie’s relationship with Tessa and Will. James and Lucie have communication with their parents, along with known support and trust. Matthew does not seem to have this as he seems too afraid to voice it, not because he is scared of Charlotte and Henry, but because he is too considerate of them. I also find it Ironic that the next story in GotSM is Every Exquisite Thing where there is a huge emphasis of Anna and Cecily’s relationship with each other. Anna being too scared that Cecily would be critical and not understand her, but when Cecily comes to Anna at her worst, she completely understood Anna and supported her, making her feel better. To me this is another stark contrast to Matthew where his parents are too busy to build a good relationship with him, and when there is a heart to heart (Henry talking with Matthew) it is too late and doesn’t ease his mind. Anna also points out how no one would approach Matthew because “he did not do well under confinement”- it makes sense, he doesn’t like confrontation.

(I can go into further detail about Cast Long Shadows with Matthew’s upbringing being detrimental to his view of himself)

Alastair however has "Daddy issues". Alastair has a similar case of looking after his father, but he came to resent his father because he never got himself better or was so drunk to even remember or acknowledge Alastair and his help or I suppose confront his problem. Alastair knows what it can do and simply does not want to re-live it, and as Cordelia is now friends with Matthew, he doesn't want Cordelia being hurt by Matthew either or having to pick up after him as he did for Elias. That is also where they butt heads. It is too coincidental that Matthew is also drinking to forget, and is not wanting to make himself be better and deal with it. Alastair is trying to protect Cordelia, but he is also allowing her to make decisions for herself.

In ChoG Alastair says he was 10 when he learnt to fill the brandy bottles with water to mask the levels that had been drunk. He was probably picking up his father and "looking after him" well before that. Alastair tried to protect Cordelia from this because he was being more considerate for her sake. He wanted her to have a childhood he was robbed of. He is also being a foil here of Charles. Charles was so self-involved that he never decided to even think about his younger brother, Matthew. Alastair was compassionate; Charles was not. Alastair is a good older brother; Charles was not and was even accusatory that Matthew being parabatai with James and being in London is what caused Charlotte to be ill... he just has so much resentment...

I also believe that Alastair wanted the burden off of his mother, and I'm wondering if he knows more about Sona and her feelings towards Elias being sour and terrified (This is I feel what is indicated in the teaser of when Elias appears where Sona seems to go pale) despite rushing to him and hugging him etc.

“Sona went white and laid a hand against the wall to steady herself. "Elias?"”

Alastair was bitter and twisted and he never wanted people to know because he knew it was a weak spot for him. It is what sparked him telling Matthew the rumor in the first place.

“ "I wish I could say the same for you," said Matthew. "Has no kind soul thought to inform you that your hairstyle is, to use the gentlest words available to me, ill-advised? A friend? Your papa? Does nobody care enough to prevent you from making a spectacle of yourself? Or are you simply too busy perpetrating acts of evil upon the innocent to bother about your unfortunate appearance?" “

...

“Instead Alastair said: "Who are you to play the moralist, talking about tricks and papas, considering the circumstances of your birth?" “

He ultimately had inherited his father's shame which was wrong. It's what Cordelia has told him as well. Alastair shouldn't have to think of the mess of Elias; it is his shame to deal with, not Alastair’s.

Though arguably, as a result of Alastair giving Cordelia an innocent childhood, it opened the doors for Cordelia to want to reach out for him, due to her optimism and love, and as he loves his sister dearly, he takes what she has to say to heart. They will now face things together as a support network and hopefully they also have communication with their mother. Although their family may be "broken" they arguably have more communication and togetherness than Matthew does with his family.

(Sorry, that bit was long)

6. Result of their nature after childhood being robbed

Matthew seems to act more of a "child" anyways, being more “frivolous”. He is being reckless, he is a little petty as well. Whereas Alastair decided to grow up too fast and is more mature and relatively grounded. It did harden him to begin with, but he doesn’t want to completely isolate himself. He’s just simply more rational. This I feel is in their nature though, not nurture.

7. Matthew is slowly driving everyone away, this is kind of what Alastair tried to achieve

Alastair at the Academy decided that he would be the bully in order not to be the one being ridiculed, thinking that he would be better off and retain a hard skin, but all it did was make him regret and never allowed him to create good bonds with people. Then when he came back from the Academy, he distanced himself from Cordelia. I interpreted this as him dealing with his guilt and regret and tried to not get Cordelia too close to him because of it, but Cordelia cared about him too much. Though it could’ve just been that he got too used to having a hard skin, not letting anyone close. Throughout ChoG he builds his bond with Cordelia, and we also see James coming around to Alastair. Thomas as always was curious and saw his better side and Christopher was seemed ready to give him a second chance. Though due to Matthew’s spew at the end, there is distance between him and Thomas and others (save Jordelia).

Matthew is driving everyone away, simply because he is being so reckless. He had originally established good relationships with people. Then, when Lucie confronts him he literally avoids it, no matter how realistic she was being and how much he cared for her, but that was it; he cared too much for her to tell her. We see that even James will snap at him in COI

Teaser #41: "There is no point to it," said Matthew. "If you will never see reason or good sense—"

"Because you're a bastion of reason and good sense?" James snapped. He knew he had a temper, just like his father; his anger spilled past everything else, tasting of copper and fury. "Matthew, you are drunk. For all I know, you mean nothing you are saying."

"I mean all of it," Matthew protested. "In vino veritas—"

"Don't you quote Latin at me," said James. "Even if you were sober, you've never taken love seriously enough to lecture me. Your passions have been a series of dalliances and ill-conceived attachments. Look at me and tell me there is something you love more than that bottle in your hand."

Matthew also decides to move out and get his own place to force independence and probably drive even more of a wedge between himself and Charlotte. We also knows he has an argument with Charlotte; his apartment and car is undoubtedly a result of that, escaping the conflict and confrontation.

Anna had wanted to talk to him (Every Exquisite Thing), Magnus also wanted to help him. Lucie has always wanted to help for the sake of James and James has always known something was off. They just know that he wouldn’t say anything, and I think most were in the hopes that he would eventually say something. We know that Cordelia is most likely the one he tells thankfully! It is ironic that it is Cordelia for both Alastair and Matthew as well. So it already looks like Chain of Iron will provide the break and repair of relationships for Matthew, similar to Alastair’s progression of self-love.

8. Matthew is very open about his sexuality. Alastair does try and keep it hidden, however it’s more complicated. This is a reflection of their concern of judgement.

Although Matthew keeps things to himself, he admittedly is not afraid of what people think of him as his expectations of himself are so low. However, he is also ruled by the expectations of others, all through his life people had low expectations of him (again, another thing that influenced his actions in general) and he feels to fulfill that obscure one in spite?? The reputation the he has, has always been obscured because in everyone's eyes it will and always has been Charles who will inherit and uphold the good reputation as Consul as they don’t see Matthew as smart or responsible. However, the latter there he doesn’t help prove them wrong...

Alastair keeps his sexuality secret, that is until Cordelia finds out and he eventually warms up to her. Plus he was dependent of Charles as well, but committed himself that he wouldn’t be the side-dish. He wants to love himself for himself, not be hidden as a secret.

There is also a "reputation" element of the family that he still wants to uphold. He is learning though that he has to put himself first and should make amends for his reputation and not have to be burdened by others. Though I would argue that Cordelia is the one who is more concerned about it, but now she knows the truth she is wavering. It’s more complex.

To conclude:

I feel like their stories will either reflect the other, or will be intertwined somehow. As Alastair has dealt with a drunk and looks down upon alcoholism in general because of his experience makes me believe that Matthew might need Alastair's perspective to grow up. Once he understands Alastair I feel it may pave the way for forgiving and loving himself.

Alastair was the "spark" of making him spiral, but he was well on his way of questioning his family's loyalty and love of him before that (hence why we were given so much background) and it played into his weakness. Matthew I think wants to take it out on Alastair (he says he didn't blame Alastair or the Faerie. Alastair is just easy to take his frustration out on) as he is not prepared to come to terms with himself or even his family for that matter for his grievance. He loves his family very much and that’s why he feels so guilty, but it's wrong for him to believe so easily and hide his guilt away and that has to be due to his upbringing...

tldr; Alastair and Matthew have stark comparisons to each other that it’s probable that they are detrimental to each other’s character arcs.

@sparkofsummer

#tsc #matthew fairchild #alastair carstairs #coi #tlh #chog #cog2 #chain of iron #chain of gold #the last hours #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles

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