#but he wears them all completely unbothered because they are gifts from his sons

[bibannana]

Wolf Pack Christmas Headcannon:

The clones of the pack find our that it is a natborn tradition to buy ugly jumpers/sweaters for Christmas and gift them to others.

However, in true sibling fashion they turned this into a competition. Said competition has two parts.

The first part of this competition is the award for the ugliest jumper that they can find, doesn't matter how ugly so long as it is wearable (not made of anything living or bio-hazardous thank you [rule implemented on the second christmas they celebrated when Sinker turned up with a pile of questionable material and origin and called it a jumper that wriggled]).

The second part of the competition is gifting said jumpers to Plo Koon and seeing which ones he wears most often.

As such, Plo has a collection of ugly christmas jumpers from all of his sons that he takes turns wearing with pride.

[tommyspeakycap]

Hi :) I was wondering if you’d be open to writing something about Tommy and baby Shelby going to see Alfie. With season 5 Alfie trying to hide his scars because he thinks she’d be scared but she just cuddles into him. I get if this is weird or too specific😅

Protected

���Remember what we talked about eh?” Tommy says to his youngest sibling as he tugs open the door on her side of the car. (y/n) Shelby takes her brothers outstretched hand to help her jump down out of the car that was a little too high up for her to manage to climb out by herself. “Yes Tommy.” She responds, skipping off in front of him to the big heavy front door of the building they were going into. The little girl leans against the door to very little avail as it barely even budges until Tommy reaches the door too and pushes it open with one strong arm.

He steps very firmly in front of (y/n) in the lobby of the building to prevent her running off again, and crouches down to her height with both hands placed firmly on her small upper arms to hold her still. “You stay right next to me okay?” He repeats, “And stay quiet yeah? I’ll try and be as quick as i can.” (y/n) smiles in response, “And then we can go to the sweet shop?”

Tommy nods and gives his little sister a soft smile before he stands up straight and takes her hand tightly in his. His littlest sister is so fearless and unaware of the dangers of the life she was dropped into that it always gives Tommy a sense of relief in some ways. It was almost like a form of escapism. Bouncing between Polly, John, Arthur, Charlie, and Tommy had made her life very different from most, even from Tommy’s young son. It would be incredibly safe to say that it was a shock when Polly Gray had entered into the betting shop in Watery Lane holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket. They were all incredibly confused and very soon learned that Arthur Shelby Senior had shown up on the doorstep with another child he wasn’t interested in raising. She was an accidental one who’s mother died in childbirth and the deadbeat father had been gifted with yet another little life to let down.

Of course it became very important for Tommy that the baby girl did not experience the same kind of sheer let down that their father had given to all of them. He named sweet little (y/n) on that evening 6 and a half years ago. He felt like he was completely aimless and useless at that time. He had decided not to go after Grace and that lost love was weird for him after finally having it. Then that beautiful, quiet, warm and sweet little girl was placed into his arms and held tightly onto his finger and suddenly, his world and his love seemed to hold new meaning.

She was his muse, his greatest love and his favourite little sidekick.

“Tommy fuckin’ Shelby.” Alfie rumbles out, his back to the door as he faces out his balcony. “That’s a bad word, Tommy.” (y/n) chides in a whisper as she looks up cautiously at her elder brother. Tommy offers her small hand a gentle squeeze and nods his head, but promptly turns his head back to the man holding a gun at the window. “And you’ve brought your mini protégé, i see.”

Alfie turns half of his face, only his good half, to see the sweet little wave from the youngest Shelby sibling. “Alfie, this is my sister; (y/n).” Tommy introduces, hoping his willingness to divulge his sisters name would move Alfie away from the subject as quickly as possible so that they could talk about what he was really there to talk about and then he could take his sister and go quickly. He didn’t like her having to be involved in these things, he always feared it would bring her into the line of fire. “Mhm,” Alfie grumbles, “Last time i saw you, you was only about this big-” He gestures with his hand only a few feet off the floor, “Couldn’t speak much, either.” The Londoner adds, eyes slightly narrowed. The 6 year old tilts her head to the side.

“I can speak a lot now, Mister Solomons.” She says, somewhat proudly. The burly man laughs, not his usual sinister or mocking way. “I can see that.” He hums in response, eyes moving from the little girl to Tommy when he clears his throat heavily to draw attention back to him. “If we could, Alfie, I’d like to talk business.” Alfie nods his head in response, gesturing with his hand to the couch across the room. Tommy let’s go of his sisters hand to sit down on the couch, the little girl doing her best to climb up beside him with only a little help from her brother. Alfie sits on the chair across from them. Tommy knows there had to be significant damage to the side of the man’s face after the injury he sustained from the bullet fired out of Thomas’s gun. There was almost no way he escaped that unscathed.

“I’m going to kill a facist, Alfie. And i need some men.”

The words from Tommy prompt Alfie to rather abruptly turn his head, somewhat shocked by the words, but more shocked by the fact the 6 year old little girl was completely unbothered by the words her brother had spoken. The pre-school aged girl simply continues fiddling with the pocket watch Tommy gave to her. She looks to be dismantling it with a very distinctive focus that reminds Alfie she is a Shelby, and she might fully be aware of how to kill him already.

“A facist ey?” Alfie repeats, his eyebrows raised. “Politics got to you, Thomas?” Tommy rolls his eyes and lights a cigarette. “I need some men.” Tommy adds, making Alfie scoff. “Oh you do, do you? And you want mine?”

Tommy merely nods his head.

In his discussion with the head of the Peaky Blinders, Alfie had not forgotten the presence of the 6 year old on the couch, but it had fallen away from the forefront focus of his mind as he debated the thought of lending men to a Shelby’s cause. In doing so, he turned his head in thought and a little noise of awe left the youngest Shelby. Tommy and Alfie both direct their attention straight to her.

The little girl scoots herself off the couch and Tommy reaches for her arm, but just misses. She trods right up to the huge London gangster and tilts her head. “What happened?” She asks softly. Alfie shifts uncomfortably on the couch he sits on, running his finger absentmindedly over the scarring of his face. “Got shot.” Alfie responds, Tommy clears his throat heavily and almost awkwardly in knowing he was the one who had given Alfie Solomons his facial scarring. (y/n) tilts her little head in awe as she clambers up onto the couch next to him.

“Looks cool.” She mutters in awe.

Most look at him in some kind of shock or horror even. Some with sympathy thinking it had come from the war and some with fear knowing where it had really come from. But few with the kindness and curiosity of the 6 year old standing on his good couch.

“Does it hurt?” She asks quietly. Alfie shrugs.

“Depends.”

That’s when her little hand reaches forward to trace over the scarring with an almost feather light child’s touch as she stands there on the couch, her hands are cold and gentle over the markings that no one has touched since his last hospital appointment.

“Her mother’s daughter.”

Alfie flicks his eyes back over to a now standing Thomas as he reaches forward to lift his sister up into his arms where she sits on his hip with little furrowed eyebrows and a purse on her lips. Alfie’s residual aching cheekbone pain has faded to nearly non-existent for the first time he can soberly remember. He knows that Tommy knows this by the look in his eyes and the way in which he notes his prior statement before he gathered his sister.

“She’s sweet.” Alfie nods, standing to his feet. As softened as both men may be by the child in the room, Alfie does not like sitting as Tommy Shelby towers over him whether the man is an ally or not. “Polly says i get it from Tommy.” (y/n) chimes. Alfie raises his eyebrows with a grin that makes Tommy roll his eyes at the retired gangster. “Oh do you now?” Alfie hums, opening his mouth to speak again when Tommy cuts him off. “You go ahead to the car (y/n), eh? I’ll meet you down there in just a minute okay?”

The six year old nods and runs off the moment her feet hit the ground. Tommy turns to Alfie immediately.

“If you ever-“

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Mom.” Alfie rumbles, crossing his arms over his chest with a beaming grin. “Little miss Shelby has you whipped, mate. Tell me, what’s your favourite apron you wear at home eh Thomas?” He chuckles heartily, making Tommy glower in rage at his teasing. “I’m fucking serious, Alfie.” He growls. Alfie straightens up and stops laughing immediately.

His eyes narrow for a split second and he tilts his head, his eyes searching the depth of Tommy’s cerulean blues and immediately noticing the sheer panic and worry that lies deep within them, attempting to hide under brotherly protective instinct and rage at the prospect of harm falling on his little sister. Alfie inhales deeply. He would truly never dream of harming a child. It’s not in his nature, nor does it sit well with him. And though he had been quick to give the head of the Peaky Blinders a reality check in the past regarding the safety of his son, in the end he had no idea Charlie Shelby had been taken and he never would have arranged for that to happen.

Alfie nods his head and leans forward. “She’s special to you, yeah?” Tommy doesn’t know why Alfie asks. He’s sure it’s clearer than he wants it to be, but alas the Londoner asks anyway and Tommy doesn’t know exactly how to answer, so he simply makes a motion something akin to a nod though looks more like a twitch of his chin. “Mhm, I can tell. You can have the men. I’m sure you know the price.” Alfie turns away. Tommy doesn’t know what it was in Alfie’s eyes that reassured him more than words ever could that he wouldn’t lay harm on the 6 year old little girl who treated him with more respect and kindness in the ten minutes she spoke to him that anyone had in years. There was an element of brotherly protectiveness that Alfie felt only after knowing her a short time.

“And Tommy?”

“Yes, Alfie?” The Birmingham MP turns back as he leaves the doorway of Alfie’s sitting room.

“Anything ever happens to the kid, you fuckin’ let me know yeah?”

Tommy nods his head, the ghost of a smile somewhat on his face. His little sister is just about as protected as they come, and there was a distinct feeling of certainty that Alfie Solomons was there, lurking in the shadows of existence with a familial fondness of the little Shelby girl who carries the glow of an angel above her head that would ensure no men, from Birmingham or further afield would have to go through every Solomons and Shelby loyal man up and down the country before a hair on (y/n) Shelby’s head was messed. Tommy holds hope somewhere deep in his heart that his little sister will never have to see violence aimed at her, and that for as long as she lives she knows that she is instantaneously loved, dearly held in every heart and ferociously protected by some of Britain’s most dangerous men.

[lizacstuff]

Can’t wait to read you thoughts on this episode. Eda and Serkan are getting engaged! ngl seeing the rings did something to me, I haven’t recovered yet.

I KNOW!!!!! I missed the rings so much. When folks were upset during the filming of 20 when it became apparent he wasn't wearing the ring anymore, I remember saying that they have to take them off so they can put them back on for real, and it will be oh so sweet when they do. Flashforward six weeks and YES!!!! Just seeing those rings again is sweet we're going to die when they actually slip them on during the next episode. I'm not attached to any of my own jewelry the way I'm attached to their rings, lmao.

As a whole this episode was very enjoyable for me.  The new writers clearly realized they needed a mood change after episode 25, and I was thrilled to see the show return to its roots. The tone felt more like the first batch of episodes than any in recent memory. What a relief. Also I've said prior to this that I suspected that where we would feel Ayse's absence was in the humor and lack of sparkle.  Well I thought this episode had plenty of both, so I stand corrected. The first Edser scene with Serkan gliding by Eda without saying a word and then having his trusty sidekick Leyla keep an eye on what they were doing outside set the light comedic tone and put everything on the right footing from the get go. 

More later on Edser, let's start with all the nonsense they use to fill the rest of the 2+ hours. 

(continue under the read more)

What in the frack is Babaanne's endgame?  Does she have one?  Is it to take revenge on Serkan? To get Eda back in her orbit? Or just to cause chaos? Or is she testing them? Not sure. 

I enjoyed the scene between mom and son, Aydan and Serkan's relationship has really become one of the best on the show, certainly better than recent Eda/Ayfer.  Which is interesting, because in the pilot they established that while Serkan may be rich with material things, he was lacking in love and emotional familial support, while Eda was poor in regards to material things, but was surrounded by love in the form of her family/friends. Though perhaps one of the greatest gifts Eda's given Serkan is an improved relationship with his mother, and the impetus to distance himself from his unloving father. While Serkan has inspired her growing independence from her aunt. 

Speaking of them, let's move on to Aydan and Ayfer. PLEASE MADE THIS CHEF NONSENSE END! Good grief. I really don't enjoy watching these two ladies making total asses of themselves over this douche. Both of them trying to catch him on his jog and then going along with his aikido nonsense. It feels like he's just playing with them for his own amusement. Both deserve better and I don't even like Ayfer. Also if my boss gave me a single red rose for being employee of the month, I'd find that both creepy and hella disappointing (crash prizes please.) 

Meanwhile Ayfer is still testing my last nerve. When Aydan and Seyfi show up and inform her that they've found out that Serkan and Eda broke up and she responds with, "Were they even together to break up?" I wanted to slap her upside the head. Whatever official relationship status Eda and Serkan have, they have been connected and in a romantic relationship this entire time. The bit of time jump at the start of 15 before she goes back to work for Efe, is really the only section of time since they've met where they weren't in a relationship. And while Eda isn't all that forthcoming with Ayfer when it comes to Serkan, she hasn't really hidden it well. It was at Ayfer's birthday when they were on the ice together being very romantic, Ayfer was at Aydan's 70s party and could very well see Eda and Serkan attached at the hip all night and wound around one another intimately slow dancing, Ayfer knows Eda spent the night at Serkan's when she left because of Babaanne, Ayfer was at the NY party and saw them together there. Not to mention Ayfer knows Serkan saved her business and why, she knows Serkan was still wearing his ring, and she knows Eda looked completely shattered over leaving Serkan as Ayfer heartlessly reacted with glee in the last episode. 

So asking "were they even together" just completely diminishes what Eda is currently going through, as if parting with him is no big deal because there was nothing there to begin with, when she knows better. When she's seen it with her own two eyes. Seriously.. fuck her. Every other character who is a friend of Eda and Serkan all know that they're a unit. I don't even feel bad that she came to ArtLife to beg for Eda's company, but Eda ended up blowing her off. Surprising Serkan with a proposal was a much better use of her time.

Engin and Piril, yeeesh, I feel for Piril, trying to put off this meeting. I'm sure she's thinking it's for Engin's own good, but her flipping into total bitch mode when they're newlyweds... not great. Not an auspicious start to the marriage. Even if she wants to keep Engin away from her father, she ought to confide in Engin and tell him why she's freaked. I'm assuming we'll get more of that in the next episode since Engin is looking rough in those promo stills. 

My favorite side plot was probably Grandog's henchman's (what is his name?) crush on Melo. Melo deserves to be crushed on, and I love that she is so uninterested that she doesn't see it.  Much more fun to have him chasing her, and her being oblivious. Poor Leyla, trying in vain to get his attention when he only has eyes for Melo. Enjoyed that Melo and Leyla made the agreement that Melo would help Leyla get the dude and Leyla would help get rid of Erdem. I'm looking forward to see where this goes. 

Ceren and Ferit... were there too. 

Now onto the A story (and let's be real the only one that matters) Eda and Serkan. Obviously 25 left us off in a very sad, heartbroken place. I'm not sure what decisions were made, when or why, but at some point TPTB decided they needed to get back to their roots and thank goodness. Episode 25 was just so dark, Eda was miserable the entire episode, as was Serkan, and that's not fun to watch for 2 hours. The way they handled them here is much better. 

I know some feel the tone shift was too much. To that I would say, it was so dark in ep 25, I'm happy to do a 180, no matter the reason, to get back to a place where watching is fun, and also I think of the breakup as Eda throwing the breaks on a runaway train and once she did, and she was sure the train was stopped at least for the time being, then she could take a moment, reassess the situation and potentially decide it wasn’t as dire as she thought. In the last episode, every moment Eda delayed giving that old bitty what she wanted, something catastrophic befell Serkan, his business, or his family. The pressure mounted, the stakes were high and in the end she had to do whatever was necessary to stop Babaanne's assault on Serkan. 

This episode we saw her catch her breath and then formulate a plan. I think a tone shift fits with that. Of course she feels lighter knowing that even though she hurt Serkan, he's protected for the moment. Now that that's taken care of, she's ready for next steps. So it works that the next morning we see her telling Melo and Ceren that she's not going to give up Serkan, and outlining her plan around getting close to Babaanne in order to get something on her. Good girl!  

As I said above, I just adored that first scene outside ArtLife. The girls gathered around, trying to warn Eda that Serkan was coming, and then his walk by where he KNEW EXACTLY WHAT HE WAS DOING when he got right up in Eda's business without even looking at her.  He knows what makes her weak in the knees. And I love that Serkan decided to play it like this. HE KNOWS. He knows she loves him, he knows there's more to the breakup, and he knows how to deal with it. Drive her crazy until she cracks and tells him everything. OR drive her crazy until they end in a passionate, possessive sex explosion. One or the other.  

Quick poll, who didn't love watching Serkan take back the reigns of his company? This gal did. YAAAAAAAAAAASSSSS. Alpha Serkan is back. Kick the old bag's throne to the curb. Kick the old bag's creepy client to the curb. Now we just have to kick the old bag and her deranged, obsessed sidekick to the curb as well.  But for now, I loved seeing him at the end of the table, making decisions, not brooking opposition. The team squabbling over his decision, but he just sits back, unbothered. Total power move. I appreciate Ferit questioning the decision, questioning it is the right thing to do in his position, but he may have gotten a little too pissy about it. Dude, this entire company IS Serkan. The success of the company is due to his talent, his vision, his business acumen. I get they're all worried he's making a decision because of Eda, but he's got a proven track record of, you know, being right, so there's no reason to get shirty. If Serkan doesn't want to work with someone, his instinct is probably on target.

Eda getting Babaanne to stand down warmed me from the inside out. I find it interesting that she used the argument that they were pushing him too hard and he didn't deserve it, and Babaanne bought it. For one I think Eda was worried Serkan was going to snap and do something that might start Babs' Bolat revenge cycle again. For two, she just wants the love of her life to win and be calm. However, if anyone in that room didn't catch onto what happened there, that Eda and BigB leave and then come back a minute later and BigB has done a 180, I question their competence. *cough* Ferit *cough* He's just not the sharpest tool in the shed. However, obviously, Serkan knew. 

On another note, they've gotten pretty murky with the line between ArtLife and the holding.  Babaanne has 45% of the Holding, not ArtLife. Ferit has 5% of the holding, not ArtLife. So which company was working with the Prince?  Since it was a project to design a house, seems like that should be ArtLife? But Babs and Ferit seemed to think they had a vote which they shouldn't if it's ArtLife.  Who knows... whatever. 

Have you ever seen anything cuter than Eda in her coat and boots and protective helmet, leaning over, clutching her chest, exhausted after climbing all those stairs?  I mean she's an adorable bean just bent over and huffing and puffing, but the fact that she just climbed up goodness knows how many flights of stairs (judging by that view, an impossible number, but we'll allow it) just to see Serkan?  We giggle at her excuse that she did that because he gave her too much work. Eda, he's not going to buy that, luckily none of us want him to buy it. These two, they can't stay away from each other. Ever. She was also probably worried after the foreman told her he'd been up there for hours. Again, I think she's concerned that she's pushed him too far. So now she's in Serkan's shoes after the first breakup. Navigating that push pull of wanting to be with him, but sticking to the decision to end it for his sake. 

It's nice to see that her claustrophobia was not "cured" after going up in the elevator with Serkan one-time. On her own, she's still not able to face it. I'm sure she could do it again with him, but there's more work to be done before she can face it without him. 

Serkan was surprisingly vulnerable in both his conversation with Engin and with Eda on the top of that skyscraper. Even just telling Engin he was too out of sorts to join him for lunch, tells us that while he knows what he's doing, he knows there's more to the story, but he's still hurting and unsettled after the breakup. Then, "I create to make people happy, but I myself can't be happy. It's strange." Oh Serkan. I think you ripped my heart out with that... Eda's too. 

Eda was so discombobulated by Serkan's attitude. Whatever she expected from him, his acceptance of the break up, wasn't it. His proposal that they be "friends" threw her and she looked so distressed when he said, "Everyone will live their own life." Alarm bells started going off for her, much as they did for him at the top of ep 19 when Eda said she was going to start living her life. She did NOT like the idea of Serkan Bolat out there living a life that didn't include her, lmao. 

It's crazy to me that Eda has a friend like Fifi, who probably breaks and enters for a living, and yet she chooses Melo for a clandestine operation. Come on, Eda, you got to choose the right person for the job, lmao. I also question Eda's choice of cat burglar wardrobe. Seemed a bit... restricting and flashy. Though her skin-tight, snakeskin breaking-and-entering dress and fashionable trespassing boots did make it easier to transition to fine dining and driving your man towards rambunctious breakup/makeup/jealousy sex.  Not much to say about the restaurant scenes. The prince is creepy af, and was that the most awkward dance.... ever? The looks back and forth between Edser were excellent, so much tension and longing and jealousy. But boy is it hard to watch a scene with Balca in it, ugh she makes my skin crawl and I don’t even like looking at her. Also the deliberate way the actress has chosen to speak is irritating. Anyway, we now know Balca is pretty much capable of anything, if she’s capable of essentially poisoning the man she thinks she loves. Yikes. Did Nana realize that Balca poisoned him? I have to believe she did, because him being sick seemed part of the plan. THEY'RE ALL FULL EVIL!!! .

One thing I don't believe is that Eda Yildiz would ever walk out of that restaurant with Serkan looking that bad. No way she leaves him to Balca's care, or anyone else's for that matter. Nope, regardless of who was watching she would have insisted on taking him to the doctor herself.  But I get they were setting up the plot, so they sacrificed that bit. 

These villains are really bad at driving a wedge between two people who love each other. AngryGran is all like, "I know a foolproof plan, let's put them in the same room and get 'em all riled up with jealousy, then make Serkan sick so Eda's worried, then I'll convince her to go check on him and let's see what happens!" LMAO. Cheers to you, dumbasses, you brought us a whole heaping plate full of S.E.X. They were really banking that Eda was going to fly off the handle and think that Serkan went from an allergic reaction to sexing up the new obsessed employee very quickly. It's great that they all underestimate Eda and Serkan's relationship and connection, that should continue to help Edser as long as these fools continue to meddle. 

Eda was, wait for it, LEGENDARY, in her smackdown of Balca. QUEEEEEEEN. I'll never be over the, "You can only be with a statue of Serkan, darling." BWAHAHAHAHA. Yes! Throw her creepy, inappropriate present back in her face. And Balca's gall asking Eda to leave and then continually lecture Eda that they'd broken up. That takes either big cajones or huge helpings of delusion, because Balca has very little information when it comes to their relationship, yet she's playing her hand like she knows it all and like she doesn't care what gets back to Serkan. However, got to hand it to Balca for keeping her composure once Eda saw through her little staged production, because her story was painfully weak. Let's say for real that you're at your boss's house, the boss is sick so you're hanging around downstairs by yourself just to make sure everything is okay. What's the problem with just... you know... wearing your outfit with a coffee stain?  Unless you had a massive big gulp sized coffee and poured it over your head, why even change? Don't you just... live with the stain? It's not like you're making a presentation to the board of directors in 5 minutes.  For the love of god you're sitting there and no one else is around. Weak alibi.  

Poor Serkan, he's just there trying to sleep off having his allergies maliciously triggered, and he completely misses out on the love of his life fighting for him downstairs. Oh how he would have loved to see that. But oh what a way to wake up, with Eda Yildiz standing over him, looking magnificent, and rousing him with a scolding tone. I've already talked about how HOT the jealousy and possessiveness was here, so I'll focus on the scene itself. 

Let’s talk about the fragman first. Due to the short production timeline of this show, when they create a trailer they're doing it from the dailies, not from the show itself. That part of the show usually hasn't even been edited yet so the fragman exists before the episode. That means often there are scenes or angles that appear in the fragman, but not in the episode. It happened bigtime with the shower scene in 19, it happened randomly with the fragman for 20, they showed that really great shot of heartbroken Serkan in red, but didn't show the full thing in the episode, (when giffing it I had to use the fragman) and here, several of the best shots of Eda and Serkan ripping each other's clothes off were in the fragman and didn't make the episode. We can live with it for a lonely Serkan shot, but it's quite a bait and switch in this instance. Especially when pretty much every member of the cast (except Hande, Kerem didn't post anything either, but he did appear in that IGlive where the cast mercilessly teased him about it) promoted the scene. Not cool. I realize that they're dealing with sensors and may have had to cut things in order to avoid fines and such, but then they probably should have found a way to release the uncut scene on the internet as I've read other Turkish shows have done and like they did with episode 13. If you're gonna put something like this in the fragman to entice viewers, and have the cast promote it, you need to be willing to deliver. Badly done on the part of both Fox and MF Yapim.

That being said, one of the great things about the tighter restrictions this show has to adhere to, is they really show the intimacy instead. On an American show, these characters would have started eating each other's faces off and then tumbled into bed. There is something very hot, though, about them just invading each other's space, breathing each other's scent, nose to nose, nose to neck, nose to cheek... without breaching. Plus we got to see him carry her to the bed... even if they darkened it to the point you can barely see. I saw enough. HOT. The scene was short, but more tantalizing than lots of love scenes I've seen.

I was sad she left while he still slept in the morning. For him not to feel her get out of bed, she must have worn him out! It really would have been nice to see them wake up together, but I'm sure that will come. Plus it gave us the tension filled scene in the office. The knocked over lamp in the background was a delicious detail. Things got rambunctious! I'm glad Eda got to return the sentiment that only she can touch him, if only Serkan had heard it! Another thing that would have made him so happy if only he knew about it.

Melo is all of us upon learning about their night of passion. She's a whole cheerleader for them, and I love it. 

The post-sex scenes at the office were amazing. For several seconds I thought that he really did think it was a dream. Panic started to set in until she admitted she'd had it too. Phew. No hiding for Eda. I'm glad he flirted, instead of getting offended, and that she was at least honest about there being something she needed to do before they could really be together. Eda also handled the office conversation with Balca well. Love that she didn't show any reaction to her claim about Paris, just wished her a good trip. I felt that deep breath she took before going into his office. Yes, girl, calm down before you march in and accuse him of something, good thing he immediately invited her. I just about melted at, "I don't want to argue... you're precious to me." Serkan is gradually learning how to head off her fits of pique. 

The proposal... I... just... okay... my heart... I need a minute... still not over it. 

It was perfect. She made a surprise for him!!!!  After he asked her for a surprise a few episodes ago she did it and surpassed even his wildest dreams. It was quite a surprise for us too! Thank you for not spoiling it, show!  Serkan has told Eda he loves her about 3 dozen different ways, he's made it clear how he feels and what he wants ("Eda Bolat, sounds nice."). There is no doubt that he was ready to propose the moment he felt she'd be receptive, so it was wonderful that she threw caution to the wind and did it. Both Serkan and the audience needed to see exactly how much she loves him, and this was a wonderful way to do that. It's pretty much the biggest thing she could have done.  Also for those of us in other parts of the world (I'm in the US) it might not be too out of the ordinary for a woman to propose, but from what I understand it's rare and possibly non-existent on Turkish shows. That's pretty cool.

Did you see his face!?!? He was so happy at first when he registered that she was actually standing in front of him and then just totally gobsmacked when he saw the rings and realized what was happening. As for Eda, she was just glowing. GLOWING. And don't even get me started on the plane. That trip on the day after they met is such an important part of their love story and the call back here is wonderful. The first time around he thought she was there for him, this time he can't believe that she's there for him.  

Can't wait to see the way the full conversation/proposal plays out, do ya'll think he'll say yes? (hee)

[howtodrawyourdragon]

Uneasy Are The (Woman's) Shoulders That Wear The Chief's Cloak

Summary: Lesbean Hiccstrid. The line of Chieftains on Berk has always been predominantly male. Either the chiefdom was passed from father to son or the usurper at the time happened to be a man as well. That changes when Stoick names his only born child, a daughter, his heir. After his passing, Hiccup struggles with feelings of anxiety and Astrid is there to whisk them away.

Rating: General

Characters: Hiccup, Astrid

Pairing: Hiccstrid

Words: 2 113

Author’s Notes: At first this was going to be called "In A Man's World", but then I thought of this title last minute and I liked it better. Even if it's a mouthful.

Inspired by a friend.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

Ao3

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

Her hands are usually so steady. When mapping their known world, they do not tremble as she places every careful detail. In the forge, as every beat of the hammer meets hot metal, the force does not make their grip falter. Even high in the sky, when she and Toothless are one with the clouds, they are firmly rooted on the saddle. They do not give in no matter how wild their tricks and rolls may get.

But now, her hands tremble.

Just weeks ago, in the aftermath of Stoick's passing, his daughter and only child has succeeded him. It is exactly as he wished would happen when he named her his heir shortly after her birth.

It means Hiccup bears a big responsibility from now on. One she'd always hoped she would never need to call hers. She'd pushed the mere notion of her as her father's successor so far away that she'd fled in a panic the morning Stoick the Vast decided that his daughter was ready.

But her fears have come true and she has become Berk's most recent Chief. Having actually arrived at this, to her unexpected, chapter in her life, she would've preferred to have had her father here to guide her. She is completely unprepared. Neither mentally, nor emotionally.

If she knew fleeing from Berk that morning would've lead to this outcome, she might have chosen a different path. Not that she regrets having Eret, Son of Eret, or Valka in her life now. Or the entire pack from the Sanctuary.

In her eyes, she isn't her father and she can never live up to him. How can you become someone that great when you're not? The people of the Hooligan tribe loved him and, up until five whole years ago, they despised her. How can she lead a people she isn't sure will even follow her?

And then there is also the matter of having an heir.

She has always envisioned having a child someday in the future. Her, Astrid, and whoever the Gods decided to gift them. Not that she is the religious type. But it has become an obligation instead of a dream she wishes to have come true.

So much in her life has changed, is changing, or will change in the future and it's terrifying. This isn't something she can simply turn away from when it gets hard and it's bound to get hard.

But then there is another thing

There have been other Viking chieftesses in the Barbaric Archipelago before, the Berserkers have Heather after Dagur stepped down to be with Mala. But it is a bit of a new change on Berk and that is what makes her so nervous, too, what makes her shake.

This is because their chiefdom has always been passed from father to son. Man to man. Even on those occasions that someone simply took the position by force, it was a man that took it. Just like with Hamish the Second, who had his position stolen from his family by her own grandfather.

Just thinking about it makes her feel a little bit ill. Not just because she doesn't approve of that sort of violence, but also because Hamish was a runt. Just like her.

Another insult to injury is that she isn't a man either. She's a woman. Usually unbothered by her gender, except on a few occasions, as Astrid always imbued her with pride and confidence to the best of her ability. She knows of how insecure her betrothed is. Ruffnut, too, has always been so adamant in being prideful of her womanhood.

And speaking of which, Hiccup isn't alone.

"You are trembling like leaf." Astrid is here in her home with her. She speaks up to break the silence that's been plaguing this household for the better part of an hour already. She gets up after having watched the other get ready for tonight's event in an agonizingly slow pace full of obvious second guessings.

Astrid grasps her shaking hands to still them at last.

"I-I was trying to... The cloak." Hiccup attempts to explain that she was attempting to pull on the cloak the seamstress had made just for their Chieftess to wear for today, but she finds it difficult to do so.

There is to be a celebration tonight and her cloak is made to resemble her late father's. It is so that he may be with her as she cares for the village he left her, but it is a surprisingly heavy thing to wear.

This cloak, it is a symbol of her father and her new duty. And having this responsibility thrust upon her before her time makes it hard for her to simply put it on.

For many long minutes, Hiccup's been standing at the large chair on which it hangs, the furniture that is also so connected to Stoick. He used to sit in it almost every evening with a mug of ale in one hand, Gobber sitting on another stool with his own mug. The air in the room would be jolly and both her dad and her mentor blacksmithing would share stories and victories past with her and Toothless. Sometimes the other Riders would be there as well.

Letting go of her, Astrid faces the chair and takes the cloak from the back of it. She holds it out in front of her as if to inspect it. A bit big for her, but then, Hiccup is tall. Still, she finds herself wondering if it won't drag on the ground for her, too.

"I get it." She then claims with a shrug of her shoulders, her thumbs running through the fur.

"You do?"

"Becoming Chief is such a big responsibility, Hiccup. And scary, too. And the way it happened... I know your dad had envisioned it a little differently." She says as she turns back around and Hiccup sighs.

Bundling up the thick fur in both of her arms, Astrid walks behind her to help her pull it on. Two metal claps are there to attach to her ceremonial chest piece, each with Toothless' likeness made into them.

"And I know that the how you got your new role and the meaning of it aren't all that weighs on you." She hesitantly continues. She's been wanting to bring this up, having watched Hiccup struggle with this matter for much longer than just these past few weeks.

"Oh?" Hiccup isn't much for conversation at the moment, so nervous that her words are failing her. A feat considering how talkative she usually is. Her everything is quite muted as Astrid throws both clasps over her shoulders.

"I'm not going to lie," Astrid smooths the fur on Hiccup's person.

"Most of Berk will accept you and some will give you trouble. Some of our allies will accept you and then others, both ally and hostile, will not. Just because you're you." She moves to her front again to put one clasp in place. She glances at Hiccup's troubled face before she turns her attention to the second one. Hiccup attentively watches her hands.

"It's going to be hard. Even if you were a man, this would be hard. But a woman... And after three-hundred and more years of fathers giving their seats to their sons..." She clasps the other, pulling just to make sure it's sturdy, and gazes back up at Hiccup.

Astrid knows that she believes chiefing is not for her. For years she'd tried to tell her father this, but if there wasn't something he still didn't want to hear even after their relationship had been mended, it was certainly this.

She didn't know if being Chief was right for her. She didn't know if it was right for Berk, having grown up with the seemingly unachievable standards Stoick has set before her.

Because she is a runt, because she is still so out of place even after having found her calling with dragons, because she didn't know if she could make it with the body and sex the Gods had decided to give her on the day of her birth.

In any other unknown that she has jumped into so far, there were at least some securities she could latch onto. When she decided to confront her entire village for Toothless, she could rest easy knowing that Astrid would do her best to keep him safe. When she faced the Red Death, she knew she would be saving at least her father and her village. When she trained the dragons, it was with Toothless and her friends by her side and with her father's approval. Even when diving into the Great Beyond, it was with the hope that adventure and new dragons awaited her on the other side of the fog bank that isolates them so.

But now...? What can she hold onto now?

The knowledge of Berk's long line of chieftains who were all men? The fact that she's been challenged and underestimated just for being a runt alone? Let alone for being a woman? That she might need to live up to expectations so unreasonably high that it might be easier to just give up?

Astrid watches her silently for a moment. Hiccup is an open book to her and she can see the growing despair.

"You won't be alone. You know that, right?" She asks her girlfriend, who looks back at her with an uncertain look.

"You know Toothless will stand by your side no matter what. And no way the Dragon Riders are going to let you go through this on your own. Gobber will conk anyone who dares challenge you over the head. Valka is here now. And... you have me." After attaching the cloak to her chest piece, Astrid grabs Hiccup's hands again as she finishes. The former's calloused by years of training in combat, the latter by years of blacksmithing.

A small smile appears on Hiccup's face as she finds her to be telling the truth. There are plenty of people who will support her no matter what.

"Snotlout would hit someone if they give me trouble." She says with a sure nod.

"Snotlout? Fishlegs would hit someone!" Astrid responds and Hiccup chuckles breathily.

Astrid smiles, too, and cups her cheeks.

"You are going to do amazing things, Hiccup! You've been doing amazing things for the past five years. Berk is better because of you and we'll be doing even better with you as Chief." She states with such conviction and maybe Hiccup doesn't quite see it the same way, but she appreciates her words.

"You really think so?" She asks, the hint of a more positive outlook in her tone.

"Yes, I do. You have changed so much. The reason we're here today is because of you. We went through some bad times, but we also went through a lot of good as well. And I need you to know that, no matter what comes, you'll make it as Chief." Astrid tells her, hoping Hiccup will see what she is telling him.

Hiccup takes her hands and removes them from her face to hold them in her own.

"Thank you, Astrid." Maybe she doesn't quite believe Astrid yet, but Astrid believes in her, that is all she needs right now.

"We should get going. Your people might be wondering what's taking you so long and you know how we, Hooligans, are. We can't wait to party." Astrid jokes and Hiccup lets out another laugh.

"I think Toothless is waiting outside for me, too." She says and Astrid briefly stands on her toes to press a brief peck against her forehead. Still holding one of her hands, she then pulls her towards the front door, one metal prosthetic foot thudding somewhat loudly against the wooden floor.

Hiccup's smile is more genuine as she follows her soon-to-be-wife outside. The second they leave the house, Toothless is there to greet them, purring as he sees his Rider and stands up from where he was lying.

"Hey Bud," Hiccup strokes the top of his head, a touch the dragon leans into. Astrid, meanwhile, deftly scratches him behind an ear.

He's been waiting for her to get ready for Berk to finally celebrate their new, and first, Chieftess. It took some waiting for the ice to have methodically been cleared from the village, but the day has come and Hiccup feels at least a little bit more prepared now.

The cloak tugging on her shoulders still feels heavy with burden, but with Astrid by her side, Hiccup believes she may be able to take whatever the future might throw at them.

[certifiedmoth]

Please Say Yes

Single Dad!Duncan x Fem!Reader

Summary: Duncan wants to propose to Y/N, but his son ruins the surprise.

Notes: Okay, I wrote this really fast and it probably isn’t the best thing ever, but my heart was literally going AWWW the whole time I wrote this, so enjoy!! (single dad!duncan owns me, y’all) gif credit to @spellman

Warnings: None, just fluff

Word Count: 3.2K

___

“Do you understand, bub?”

The four-year-old sitting on Duncan’s lap scrunched up his face playfully while nodding his head enthusiastically.

“We can’t tell mama!”

“Mhm, yes. And why can’t we tell mama?” Duncan bobbed his leg up and down, sending his son into a fit of giggles.

“Because marrying mama is a secret, shhh,” he held his tiny finger up to his mouth and spoke in a whisper, making sure to be as quiet as his little voice would let him.

“Well, asking her to marry daddy is a secret. Mama can’t know at all, it’s a surprise, okay?” He looked his son right in his eyes, hoping he was listening carefully to what he was telling him. “Mama’s going to be really, really happy, as long as it’s a surprise and we don’t tell her before the right time, okay?”

“When’s the right time? Right now?” His son’s big, blue eyes went wide with curiosity.

Duncan let out a soft chuckle, “Well, not right now, bub. Daddy will know the right time; you don’t need to worry about that.” He kissed the top of his son’s hair, holding him close to his chest and savoring this blissful moment. “Just don’t tell mommy.”

~

You and Duncan had been together for three happy years now; something of a record for Mr. Shepherd. He had known from the very first moment he laid his eyes on you that you were meant to be in his life. Stolen glances at work led to steamy makeout sessions in his office which, then, (miraculously, he thought) led to a first date. Duncan had always known how special you were, but it was then, on that first date, as he stared at you smiling from across the table, illuminated by the soft moonlight and laughing at your own joke, that he truly realized that he selfishly wanted you all to himself and that he’d do everything in his power to make that a reality.

A year prior to meeting Y/N, Duncan had experienced one of the worst pains of his life when the mother of his son took off and left. They hadn’t been together long and the pregnancy was a complete surprise, but he had sworn right then and there, as he looked down at the positive pregnancy test, that he would be the best father to his child and the most supportive and loving partner to his girlfriend the world had ever seen. But she had other plans for her life, it seemed; she left shortly after the birth, leaving behind a heartbroken Duncan to solely take care of their child.

Even with the amazing gift that his son was, he truly believed that he would always be alone; destined to share this life with nobody but himself. But then you came along, and flipped a light switch on, suddenly changing his whole outlook on everything and bringing an immense amount of love and light into him and his son’s life that he had never imagined possible. You brightened everything for him.

From a cocky bachelor to a single dad, cherishing domesticity with his son and the love of his life, Duncan often reminisced on how he had gotten here in life. He couldn’t help but wonder what he had done to deserve a life as amazing and meaningful as this one; it was something he would always cherish. He had his family – His family. His to hold and love. His to keep him warm at night and comfort him when troubled thoughts filled his head. You and his son were all he needed in his life. And all that was left to do was ask you to be his forever.

~

- Two weeks later -

The bubbly boy sitting next to you focused intently on the drawing before him, while he excitedly rambled on and on about the dog he had seen that morning.

“He tried to lick my nose,” he scrunched up his small nose as his addictive giggles filled the air; turning to you, he mimicked the dog with his tongue sticking out and continued laughing without a care in the world. Always such an expressive one, you thought, as you felt the corners of your own mouth lifting while you stared at the lively boy beside you.

“Why don’t you draw the doggie in your picture?” You smiled back at him, moving some of the loose strands of hair out of his face. He had his father’s hair and it soothed you to see so much of Duncan in him.

“No!” he yelled defiantly while a great, big smile appeared on his face as he got up and started dancing (or at least, what a toddler’s definition of dancing was). Okay… you knew what was going on here. He was clearly in one of his “silly moods”; something Duncan liked to call his random outbursts of excitement and giggling. He twirled around the room, singing and laughing as if he were the happiest person alive, before running back to you and plopping down on the ground next to you and his coloring station.

“Somebody’s being silly,” you scrunched up your nose at him, watching him as he dramatically laughed and got back to coloring his picture. “But bub, I have a question,” you frowned, exaggerating your sad tone. “Why no doggie?” you fake cried, hoping to bring even more laughter out of him.

“Because we don’t have one, you silly!!” He yelled, finding the whole situation quite hilarious. “This is our family,” he pointed to the picture. “And we don’t have a doggie, so he can’t go in here.”

“Oh, okay. I understand,” you nodded, enjoying the seriousness and accuracy he put into his art. Peeking over his head to see the masterpiece itself, you found a tall figure that must have been Duncan since a (very large) cellphone was placed in his hand. You silently made a note to tell Duncan about it later; you were sure he would think it was adorable funny. Then, there was your little one right in the middle with a big, gigantic smile plastered on his face; that part seemed quite accurate. Your eyes continued scanning the page, landing on the figure that must have been you, but you were wearing a long, white dress with something covering your face; a very odd sight that caused you to tilt your head in confusion, trying to understand what you were looking at. It was honestly very sweet and endearing, but also suspicious, to say the least.

“Hey bub, why am I wearing that?” you pointed to the cartoon version of yourself.

“Because that’s what people wear when they get married,” he replied softly and casually while focusing on coloring in the grass expertly.

Your heart stopped for a split second as you heard him speak those words so nonchalantly. Had Duncan said something to him? Or perhaps, maybe his preschool teacher had taught them about what a wedding was and he simply was a curious and intrigued child? It must be the latter, you thought. He must have seen a wedding in one of his cartoons, or saw it in a book.

You tried to rid your brain of dangerous, exciting thoughts and calm yourself of the possibility of something bigger taking place right now, but failed horribly after several minutes of a very anxious internal dialogue with yourself.

“Bub, why am I wearing it, though?”  you spoke up suddenly, the confusing thoughts in your head still running rampant as your heartbeat raced.

“Because daddy said he’s gonna marry you, so you have to wear white!! Daddy read this book to me and the girl in it got married and she wore white, so you have to wear white, silly.”

Your eyes went wide and it was as if the air had been knocked right out of your lungs; you were sure you would have looked paralyzed if anyone had walked in at that exact moment. You had thought of the possibility of Duncan proposing one day; you both had talked about it casually before, but you didn’t know that he was actually planning to ask you to be his wife.

You were shocked, confused, beyond ecstatic… You felt so many different things, all completely at the same time, and you didn’t exactly know how to process everything you were feeling; this was foreign territory. Your head swirled and buzzed while the little boy next to you sat unbothered by the bombshell he had just dropped, mindlessly coloring the sky a light blue color on the paper in font of him.

“When did daddy say all of this?”

His little head turned to you, about to answer your question with an excited smile on his face, when he suddenly remembered the day his dad had sat him on his lap and told him his great, big secret plan. But he had told him not to tell you. That’s what he had said: To not tell mama. That only daddy could tell her and only when it was the right time. This was not the right time. And daddy wasn’t even here. Slowly, his smile turned to a frown and glossy tears began to prick the corners of his bright blue eyes.

“Oh no, baby, what’s going on?” Your voice was laced with concern as you watched his face contort with sadness. In this moment, you forgot about the picture. You forgot about what he was about to say. You forgot about any future proposal. You only cared about why your sweet boy had become so incredibly distraught. His cheeks grew warm and he suddenly started wailing as tears began to flow freely down his face, his poor lungs struggling to draw in air from crying so hard.

The door to the home office slammed open and Duncan came running out, his eyes wide with worry and concern as he noticed you in the middle of the floor, cradling his little boy. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, he just started crying,” your looked up at Duncan hopelessly while you held your little one to your chest, rocking him back and forth and trying your best to comfort him and ease him of whatever pain he was feeling. It was just as painful for you as it was for Duncan to see him so uncontrollably distraught. You’d do anything to make him feel better, no matter the cost. And Duncan was right there with you; he’d do anything to protect his son from this world. Which is why it was so hard to see him like this right now. A very worried Duncan kneeled next to you and started gently stroking his son’s back in a calm and soothing manner.

“Bub, what’s wrong? Are you hurt?” Duncan whispered in his ear, hoping to god something wasn’t causing him physical pain.

Your little one hesitantly lifted his head from your chest and looked up at his dad with tears running down his red face, trying to speak but all that came out were more choked sobs. “I- I ruined the surprise,” you almost didn’t catch his timid voice amidst the strangled sobs. Duncan’s face twisted in confusion, not sure what his poor child was talking about.

“Bub, what surprise?” Duncan asked softly while continuing to rub his son’s back. You held him in your arms, swaying him back and forth and he finally started to calm down a bit. He sniffled and played with your hair, focusing on trying to tell his dad what he meant.

“Dada, I said you were gonna marry mama,” he let out another small sob, feeling overwhelmed with the whole situation. He was afraid Duncan would be mad at him and that he’d be in trouble for telling you, but most of all, he was just unbearably sad for letting down his dad.

Duncan’s breath hitched in his throat as he heard his son’s confession; his eyes instantly flickered to yours, which were already staring at him, wide and bright with curious wonder. There was so much vulnerability in his blue eyes; you’d never seen him like that before. It was almost startling to look at the love of your life and see a different side to him, one you’d never caught a glimpse of before. He had never felt so exposed and caught off guard in all his life; tears had started to prick the corners of his own eyes. It was beautiful and painful to watch, you thought.

This wasn’t how he had planned it. This wasn’t at all how he had planned it. He was going to wait for the perfect moment... The perfect dinner with a perfect bottle of champagne, under the same moonlight he had fallen in love with you, only to then, get down on one knee, take your hand in his, and ask you to be his and only his forever. Truth be told, that moment had come and gone. Or, at least half of it. He had taken you out to dinner the week before, but he had never gotten down on one knee and he had never asked you that one question that had been dancing across his mind every second of every day since he had finally decided to propose. Deep down, he was terrified. Terrified that you would reject him and he’d lose you forever. A part of him still felt he didn’t deserve you and that one day, you’d realize it.

But now, everything was out in the open. His wants, his feelings, his plans for the future: All of it. He was exposed. Duncan had no wall to hide behind now; his son had torn it down for him.

“Baby, there’s no need to cry. You didn’t ruin anything,” your soft voice spoke to the little boy cradled in your arms, snapping Duncan out of his anxious thoughts. “It’s okay, baby. Daddy isn’t upset with you and mommy isn’t either. We love you so, so, so very much, okay?” You pulled back to look him in his tear-filled eyes. “It’s okay, my love,” you gave him a genuine smile, rubbing his back with small circles.

He was comforted by your words and nestled his head against your neck, feeling the worry start to leave his tiny body. Only small sniffles could be heard now as his eyes started to get heavy with sleep. You continued gently stroking his back as you helped to softly lull him to sleep.

“Plus, mommy wants to marry daddy, too.”

Duncan’s head snapped up, locking his wide eyes with yours as an incredulous look overcame his features. Had he heard you correctly? Had you really meant what you had just whispered? He’d never felt his heart beat this fast in all his life; it felt as though it was about to explode right out of his chest.

“She does?” Duncan spoke quietly and carefully, as you both realized the sweet boy in your arms was now fast asleep from wearing himself out so suddenly with his tears.

You nodded your head, looking at him with every single ounce of love and adoration you had felt for him the past three years of your beautiful relationship. He inched his way closer to you, closing the distance between yourselves while being careful not to wake his son.

He leaned in to place a feather light kiss to your lips, “You know, I had something planned…”

“Is that so?” you smiled against his lips, the small burn of his stubble rubbing against your skin and the warm scent of his cologne mixing to remind you of home.

“Mhm, but I guess this will have to do,” his voice was soft and playful as he reluctantly pulled away from you, reached into his pocket and retrieved a small plush box. You let out a sudden breath, you hadn’t known you’d been holding in, and felt tears begin to spill over your cheeks.

Duncan adjusted himself so he was on one knee and slowly opened the small box in his hands, revealing the most dazzling diamond ring you had ever seen; he had picked it because the sparkle it gave off was reminiscent of your beauty in the moonlight. He looked at you adoringly through crystal, blue eyes, letting a content sigh fall from his lips as he stared at his entire world right in front of him.

“I am so completely and insanely in love with you, Y/N,” he smiled softly as he whispered to you. “I cherish this life we’ve built together, and I can never thank you enough for being there for our son. You’re the best mother this world has ever had and the best partner I could ever ask for. Some days I wake up and I still can’t believe that you’re in my life,” he laughed lightly as his voice began to break; his own tears threatening to spill over now. “You came into my life and made every aspect of it better and, now, I only ask that you allow me the opportunity to do the same for you.”

You held your hand over your mouth to stifle your cries as you peered, through teary eyes, at the love of your life.

With one last exhale and smile, Duncan looked up at you and whispered, “Will you marry me?”

You let out a squeaking noise and nodded frantically while tears fell down your cheeks. “Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!” you tried your best to keep your voice quiet, so as not to disturb the sleeping child in your arms, but you were too overcome with excitement and love for this man.

Duncan’s face lit up and he gave you the brightest smile you had ever seen as he quickly enveloped you in his arms, placing gentle kisses to your face. You could feel his own tears on his cheeks now as he kissed you tenderly. You’d never felt so happy in all your life. This truly was all you needed: Duncan and your son. Your family.

He placed one last passionate kiss to your lips, deepening it while your hand ran through his soft hair. Reluctantly, he pulled away once again, brushing his lips against yours. “What do you say we put little bub down for his nap and then we go and celebrate in our own special way?”

You smiled against his lips, wanting nothing more than to show him just how much love you had for him. “Sounds good to me,” you whispered, placing one more kiss to his lips before feeling Duncan’s hand hold onto yours gently, pulling you up and leading you to the beginning of a new life.

Taglist: @xavierplympton, @lathraios, @no-need-for-rules, @ladynuwanda, @katiekitty261, @sojournmichael, @rosegoldrichie, @langdonsdemon, @hecohansen31, @blakewaterxx, @wroteclassicaly, @michaelsapostle, @kleineshaschen, @whydonthumansfly, @solitalangdon, @fckinsupreme, @olobersy, @femaleantichrist, @peachesandfern, @freak-war-hour, @tigers-pat, @gremlinkween, @donutt-fuck-with-me, @avesxtxnas, @lonely-cloud, @angelbabyscum, @langdondelrey

[likelovelikesuicide]

Underhill - Malec Scenes

So, since the Shadowhunters fandom is stuck in what has to be the hottest mess of a cancellation ever, I decided to finish a fanfic idea that I’ve been working on to accompany the missing Malec scenes I’ve already written.

This is 5 Malec scenes written from the POV of Underhill - and includes 5 scenes of Underhill unintentionally eavesdropping on his favorite couple 

Front Lines 

Every Shadowhunter knew the name Alec Lightwood, and Shawn Underhill was no different. The Lightwoods had been head’s of the New York institute for many years and their family legacy was one of the longest in the Shadow World. So, when he’d heard that Alec had risked his position, for love no less, he couldn’t help be curious. He hadn’t been at the wedding himself, but if the rumors were true it meant that the eldest of the Lightwood sons and heir to their ancient legacy, was gay.

Just like Shawn Underhill himself, though in his case, no one knew.  

Underhill was impressed that, despite being several years younger and openly dating a male warlock, Alec Lightwood had managed to maintain his reputation as one of the best archers the Clave had on record. And though Underhill had never met him, he had taken notice of Magnus Bane before. Any warlock being in the institute raised more than a few noses. An immortal being that the Shadowhunters had to chronicle to keep up with, because he outlives them all. But in the case of the High Warlock of Brooklyn, it was more than that. This man appeared to be eccentric, gorgeous, and impressive even by the Clave’s skewed standards in regards to downworlders.

The first time Underhill sees Alec Lightwood and Magnus Bane together is the morning after Valentine’s infiltration of the institute. He’s part of the team searching for stray circle members around the perimeter when they happen upon the Lightwood boy kissing the High Warlock of Brooklyn like his life depends on it. Despite the murmurs from the forming crowd, Underhill understands exactly why Alec had refused a marriage that would have made him Head of the Institute.

----

“Alexander, you cannot possibly think you're responsible for the Seelie’s opinion of your people.” Magnus stopped and turned to Alec in the hallway as they left the ops center. Izzy’s high heels clicking away in the other direction had caused Underhill to look up from his paper work and now he couldn’t seem to look away.

“Not responsible for it, no, but I perpetuated it. I was the one who brought Meliorn in for questioning that almost got him killed. I knew about the Clave using seelie scouts to spy on Valentine. I…” Alec’s insistent voice remained quiet, though Underhill could hear them from his station at the desk.

“Trust me darling, you are not the problem.” Magnus leaned forward, taking Alec’s downcast face in his hands before placing a featherlight kiss on his forehead. Even from a distance, Underhill could see the smile touch Alec’s lower lip. “I dare say what the Seelie Kalie did had more to do with your parabatai’s so called book club than anything else.”

At that, Alec let out a soft laugh. “Right,” He said with a shake of his head that was somehow both fond and annoyed. Alec turned, taking one of Magnus’ hands as they continued walking.

“Besides, in my experience the Seelie Queen is rarely less than hostile.”  Magnus pointed out with a flourish as his voice trailed away. Underhill had to shake himself, realizing he’d been staring at the couple, mesmerized by their simple exchange. As he looked around he saw a few people glace towards them, some in distaste, however no one seemed to mind their small display of public affection.

It was an odd thing to see even married Shadowhunters engage in any form of PDA, but Magnus and Alec seemed completely unbothered by any prying eyes.

----

“Ugh, that warlocks here again,” Duncan says under his breath and Underhill follows his eye across the room to where Magnus Bane is striding towards the offices, looking like a million bucks as per usual. “He walks around here like he owns the place.”

“He probably could if he wanted to, and everyone knows that he’s the boss’ boyfriend.” Underhill shrugs, turning his attention back to his work.

“That’s my point,” Duncan says suddenly louder.  “It’s bad enough he’s.. ya know, into other dudes like that! But slumming it with a downworlder? and one of his reputation...”

“I assume you’re referring to the Clave’s file on him?” Underhill asks, aware that anything the Clave recorded on the life of an immortal Downworlder should be taken with a grain of salt.

“Yeah, the guys like 400 years old and a total playboy.” Duncan scoffs.

“You do realize warlock’s are immortal right?” Underhill asks, absently turning the page in his report. “And he’s clearly in love with Lightwood, so what’s your problem?”

“Love? Come on, he’s probably like a spy or...  or you think the Lightwoods keep him as an asset?” Duncan asked conspiratorially, with something akin to excitement in his voice. Underhill knew that tone because he’d heard it from several Shadowhunters in regards to Alec’s relationship with Magnus. It couldn’t be that they’d simply fallen in love, something fishy had to be going on and someone needed to prove it. Underhill was tired of hearing it.

“I don't think anyone keeps a warlock like Magnus Bane,” Underhill points out, voice turning harsh as he stood up to gather his things. “And by the way, I’m also ya know, into dudes that way. So maybe you should just keep your opinions to yourself.”

---

Underhill is listening intently to Isabelle Lightwood as she’s going over the institute’s updated security plans following the escape of Valentine. Everything would need to be overhauled after checks and scans were complete. Another team had been tasked with determining how Duncan had been compromised, his family slaughtered.

The moment Magnus Bane enters the ops center, the atmosphere changes around them. As usual, the warlock is dressed impeccably and Underhill supposes it’s perfectly natural to stare. The guy was like a walking piece of art, but the murmurs coming from the others at the table were not so agreeable.

They were quickly silenced by Isabelle loudly clearing her throat, her face reminded Underhill of the saying “if looks could kill.” She stared at the group in disgust until Magnus stopped beside her, wearing a contrastingly friendly smile.

“Ah, Isabelle,” Magnus started, rings glistening in the lights of the hologram. “Alexander said you were going over the security breach if I wanted in.”

“Absolutely,” Isabelle dropped her annoyed expression and turned to Magnus, immediately diving back into the plans.

It’s a few hours later and the ops center is relatively quiet when Alec Lightwood returns from a mission. Before discarding his bow, he be-lines for Magnus and is gifted with a sweet kiss that makes his cheeks flush. The only Shadowhunter at the table who doesn’t seem to notice is Isabelle and Underhill figures she must see this sort of thing all the time. Several of his colleagues are noticeably uncomfortable but none of them dare say anything. 

----

Shifting through the pages of his report on a shax demon attack in lower midtown, Underhill turned a corner towards the Office of the Head of the Institute and froze. The newly appointed Head of the New York institute, Alec Lightwood, was giggling while sharing kisses with his infamous warlock boyfriend. The two of them had stopped in the doorway to the office with mere inches between them, oblivious to the world around them.

“Now, Mr. Lightwood, let's do keep things professional,” The warlock says as he brushes a hand down Alec’s lapels in a distinctly unprofessional manner.

“Of course, Mr. Bane.” Alec says as he moves them both into his office. “This meeting is to reinstate the institutes contracts with the High Warlock of Brooklyn under our new leadership.”

“Ah, and what lovely new leadership indeed, Mr. Lightwood. However,” Magnus teases, voice drifting from the open door as they stumble together towards privacy. “Some of my services require special attention from the Head of this Institution and I regret to inform you these needs have been neglected under your recent predecessors.”

“In that case, please allow me to assure you, Mr. Bane. You will receive any and all special attention you desire from the Head this Institute so long as I’m in charge…” Alec’s voice trails off as the door swings shut with a swish of blue magic. Smiling, Underhill walks past the office with his report still in hand, certain that his boss doesn’t want this particular meeting interrupted.

--

Thank you for reading!!! #saveshadowhunters

Previous Missing Scenes:

2.03 - Lost and Found

2.06 - Getaway

2.07/8 - A Place To Belong

2.08/9 - Choice

2.10 - The Outlook at Dawn +  (Part #2)

2.12 - Console

2.13 - Amends

2.15 - Secured

2.20 - Recovered

[m0onbean]

Dreamin’ Chapter 1

category: angst

pairing: youngjae X reader

summary: a cold hearted youngjae just needs some love in his life

The newspaper struck the side of Youngjae’s head but Youngjae didn’t wince. Again, the newspaper struck him from the other side of his head. And again, the newspaper kept on repeatedly beating him from side to side.

“Young man!” His father hollered in his ear and slammed the newspaper on the floor, the papers dying under the touch of his wrinkled fingers. Youngjae’s head was lowered, his gaze avoiding his father’s hostile eyes. A stinging sensation remained burning on both sides of his head which annoyed Youngjae. He didn’t like that feeling.

“What the hell have I told you about not wasting damn time?!” The angered father ran his hands through his hair and heavily sighed. “You’re going to be the next CEO and if you keep up with this attitude, our company is going to fail!”

Not bothering to reply, Youngjae remained silent and waited for his father’s temper to burn out like a candle. Youngjae often thinks that he was adopted. His personality is of nothing similar to his father’s. While his father loved to talk and drink beer, Youngjae liked to stay quiet and drink peach iced tea.

After a couple more huffs, his father waggled a threatening finger at Youngjae one last time. “I wish you were never born on this planet. You do nothing but waste time and money.” And with that, he stomped away triumphantly, thinking he made a good statement.

Contrary to what his father thought, Youngjae was never affected by anything he said. Every single time his father said the same thing, so the repetitiveness only made his words boring instead of meaningful. Sort of like life.

Once your routine in life keeps on repeating and you do nothing about it, you forget how to enjoy it and how to live. It becomes bland and irritating. A nuisance and pointless.

Youngjae’s servant stood timidly, fidgeting with his fingers nervously and eyes flickering up and down. After a long eerie silence passed, Youngjae finally broke it with a long sigh and ruffled his hair in exhaustion.

“You can go,” Youngjae ordered and turned his body around to head to anywhere. Anywhere but here.

The poor servant, feeling as if something had gone wrong because of him, scrambled out the room. Youngjae already knew that the man would quit the next day and that he would be receiving his new 24th servant already.

It’s all about patterns: Youngjae noticed that there are many frequent patterns in his life. Like how his father hollers at him every other day, servants quit after realizing how troublesome the Choi family is, more business conflicts happening, more people dying in the news, etc. As Youngjae strolled through his enormous mansion with marble tiles spread everywhere, he felt empty and bored. All he wanted to do was sit outside and watch the rain fall. Although his window provided him the same view, he preferred the limousine. Something about being detached from his home elated him.

Before Youngjae could make up his mind about escaping the house again, a loud knocking was heard from the doors. What was with knocking and interrupting thoughts today? Irritated, he waited for his father or servant to respond to it. When he heard the knocking loudly continuing, he groaned and grabbed some nearby pillows and muffled them over his ears.

Only when a few minutes pass did the sound completely cease. Slowly, he put the pillow back on the couch where it previously was and treaded to his room. When he entered, he immediately flopped down on his silk blanket and curled up in his clothes that were damp with beady raindrops. Before he could close his eyes, the knocking returned, but this time from his glass door that led to the balcony outside his room.

Alarmed, Youngjae began wondering what was happening. Although the rain had been beating violently at his glass window for the whole day, a new sound of harder banging was sounded. Was it hailing?

He stood up and cautiously peeked through the window curtains. There he saw a person, cupping pebbles in their hand and lunging it at the glass from the floor.

What the hell? Youngjae thought and squinted his eyes to look closer. He saw that the girl wasn’t wearing a raincoat but instead a regular shirt and some shorts. What kind of an idiot dresses like that in this weather?

Ignoring the flying pebbles that constantly missed his window and instead only hit the wall beside it, he flopped back down and tried to return to comfort. He thought that if he just ignored the strange person they would go away eventually.

It worked for a while. Silence filled with the wonderful music of rain was again gifted to Youngjae and he hugged the blanket tighter to his body. That was until the pounding on his window became drastically louder and quicker out of nowhere.

Youngjae cussed under his breath and stomped to the glass window and ripped the window curtains open. His eyes widened and he stumbled back in astonishment.

You were on the balcony, standing there with an offended expression painted on your face. Your toe was tapping impatiently and you looked pissed. Fearing that he was going to get robbed, he immediately reached for the doorknob to the glass door and locked it. Your jaw dropped as you watched this and glared at him.

“What the fuck?” you screamed and pounded on the glass, “Let me in!”

“No, who are you? Are you going to rob me?” he firmly asked while keeping his stare on you through the window.

“I’m not! I was just trying to make an appointment with CEO Choi but he wasn’t answering and I got pissed off so here I am. Are you CEO Choi’s son or something?”

Youngjae, outraged with your story, didn’t answer your question. “Why the hell does that make it okay to climb to my balcony which is 2 stories up? And most importantly, how are you here?”

You rolled your eyes, “I asked you questions first.”

“I could always keep this door locked.” Youngjae retorted.

“Well then I’ll just break in.”

“Well then I’ll just sue you.”

You scoffed, “Rich people.”

“So are you going to tell me how you ended up here?” he tried asking again.

“Have you ever climbed a tree before?”

Youngjae thought back to his childhood. He didn’t remember climbing trees. All he remembered was getting pushed around by some servants and following his father to fancy dinners. He never even recalled getting his hands dirty once.

“Um... no...” he muttered with a hint of disappointment.

“Well, I just climbed that tree over there and managed to parkour here. Impressed?” You flashed him a smug smile and placed your hands on your hip.

“Not really. Ok thanks for letting me know, nice talk.” And with that, Youngjae closed the curtain.

“ASSHOLE!” you yelled and tried pounding on the glass again. “Can you please let me in? It’s sort of freezing out here and I’m lacking proper attire.”

“Then why’d you decide to wear those shorts? Idiot.” he said in a smooth and unbothered voice from the other side of the window.

“I will-“ Before you could finish your threat, a car engine roared outside which made you freeze. When you turned your face back to the glass you saw that Youngjae was peeking outside. He looked severely alarmed, eyes widened and pale skin.

“Who’s-“

You didn’t have time to speak when the glass door flew open and a hand tugged you inside. Youngjae locked the door again behind you and sighed in relief. His relief was soon forgotten when he started to snarl at your presence. “Idiot! You could’ve been caught by one of my family members while you were standing on my fucking balcony.”

“Okay well? What’s wrong with that?” you cocked your head.

“Paparazzi are gonna think that I’m secretly meeting with you or something and make scandals. Jesus, use your brain. “

You scoffed, “Well sorry I’m not famous.”

“You don’t need to be famous to be smart,” he spitefully murmured and slumped on his bed again. “Find my dad downstairs.”

“But... he’s going to wonder how I got in here...”

“I wonder whose fault is that.” Youngjae snuggled deeper into his blankets and shut his eyes closed, pretending you weren’t there.

You waggled your eyebrows and sighed at the stubborn man, “I suddenly don’t want to work here anymore.”

“Follow your dreams,” was all Youngjae murmured.

Exasperated, you turned around and headed back to the glass door. After unlocking it, you quickly walked out into the cold air and closed it behind you (but lingered it open a little longer so a little bit of rain could enter his room.) Just when you were about to climb off the balcony however, you heard a scream from below you.

“Who the hell are you?!”

Prologue Chapter 2

[theblazeofmemory]

(I completely blame Elise and my biannual reading of Of Growth and Decay for this completely self-indulgent piece of Antoine being the absolute best)

Antoine stood in the center of the dais, his jaw set, eyes locked on one raised throne in particular. He had been standing there for what felt like an eternity, talking in circles for hours while the other gods tried their best to wear him down. Stubbornness was one of the best traits he had inherited from his father. The rest of them could complain and try to shut him down, but Enjolras was the one that mattered most; he held particular sway over this council.

"Enjolras, please! You know me. You know Jehan." Pulling his parent into this could be a risk- they certainly were as biased in this matter as he was- but the young god was getting desperate. "I have never asked for much, and I urge you to consider-"

"You have no idea what you're asking now!" Courfeyrac cut in, surging to his feet as he cut Antoine off. The ends of his curls glowed like embers with his anger. "Have you any clue what kind of damage granting such a request could do? The damage he has already done?"

"That was generations ago!" Antoine snapped back, frustration bubbling up around him like a tangible thing. "The mortals only know about that time through song and story! How long before you all let go of this grudge?"

Combeferre muttered a word to Courfeyrac, enough to calm his burning and coax him back into his seat, before turning his attention to the dais again. He gave a small smile and spoke softer than Courfeyrac, and Antoine could taste the pity behind his honeyed tone. "Antoine... You did not know the world before. It was wonderful, always warm and blooming, and now? Your father set in motion many changes, and he still pays the price for it."

"For prompting the end of your perfect, eternal summer?"

A murmur rumbled through the crowd, several of the assembled gods stirring from the tension.  Courfeyrac nearly left his seat again, but a stern look from Enjolras settled him back. A few- Joly, Musichetta, Cosette- sought out Jehan instead, and the Flower Deity was the only one apparently unbothered by their son's display, leaning on the arm of their throne and watching intently.

Antoine took a breath. "I would have no place in a perfect world. I maintain balance, not perfection, and there is no need for me without first an imbalance. He might have been wrong, there's no changing what he did or what happened after, but he is not monster. Montparnasse is my father, and he loves us."

The power in the name sent another ripple around the room. Even Jehan rarely spoke that name aloud here.

As much as Antoine wanted to seek out his parent in the crowd, make sure he was doing this right, he kept his gaze focused on Enjolras. He was the one who had fixed the lock on the Gate in the first place. "One day is all I ask for. Let him feel the sun and see the flowers and the stars. Let us be a family on the surface, just once. Please."

A beat of silence passed, enough to freeze Antoine's heart painfully in his chest, then Enjolras slowly rose to stand. He looked regal, keeping his expression decidedly neutral as he waited another moment, studying Antoine for a reaction. Then he spoke. "You realize how dangerous your father is?"

Antoine swallowed down a quip, took another breath to steady his tone. "All gods are dangerous."

That earned a nod. "You understand the gravity of his actions, yet you still believe he deserves a second chance?"

"I'm not asking for a chance. I want one day, out of the thousands he has to spend alone."

Enjolras motioned for the rest to stand with him. "We will discuss it. You may go."

"But-!"

"Go."

Jehan gently tapped their knuckles on the door to Antoine's chambers. "My son?" they asked softly. No answer. They waited a moment more. "Are you there?"

They touched the door again, and it opened under their fingers, giving them just enough space to slip inside before it closed again. Antoine was sprawled across his bed, propped elegantly against an assortment of cushions with his back to the door. He looked like a much younger version of Montparnasse, all tousled dark curls and sullen energy. He barely stirred when Jehan sat down beside him, though he did lean into their hand when they rested their palm on his shoulder.

"You do have your father's flare for the dramatic," they teased, gently gripping his arm. Jehan could feel his anger bubbling just beneath the surface, frustrations fueling tension and threatening to upset his own internal balance. Not good.

Antoine barely shifted, enough to see Jehan's face with one eye. "Is there something wrong with that, too?" His voice had an angry bite to it, sharp, cold.

"Absolutely not." They moved a curl away from his face. "Why would there be?"

Antoine sat up but only stayed upright long enough to lean on Jehan's shoulder. "Anything I do like my father flies in the face of all Olympus, it seems. They hate any part of me that reflects him. I don't know how long they will still look me in the face or want me around since I look so much like him. Things used to be so... different..." His voice trailed off, arms wrapping tight around his middle and fingers digging into the fabric of his chiton.

Jehan pulled him into a hug and dropped a kiss in his hair. "You were a child, starlight. You've grown, but-"

"They don't like how."

"But they still care for you. Everyone does. They love you. You know that, right?" Antoine gave a little grunt of acknowledgement."You are unique, my darling. The only son of the King of the Underworld, my only son. You sit on the edge between life and death and hold more power than most could ever dream of. You're a precious being, the first of something completely new. You wear darkness as well as you do light."

"So does Gavroche," he huffed. Antoine squirmed away from them and fell over on his side, curling himself around one of the larger pillows. "Eponine, too. No one gets angry at them for it."

Any crimes of the Thenardier blood feel squarely on their parents shoulders and remained safely locked away in the depths of Tartarus while their children were free to go about their lives in peace. His only seemed to grow with time, though maybe that was because he actually liked his imprisoned parent.

Antoine quirked an eyebrow and peered up at Jehan again. "I never asked, but why are you here? I thought you would be involved in the 'discussion'" -he scowled at the world, dipped it in venom as it left his tongue- "surrounding Papa's fate."

"Am I no longer allowed to be concerned for my son?" Jehan settled a hand on him but otherwise let him be. "I believe they know my position on the matter. I want Montparnasse here as much as you do. If they want anything from me beyond that, they will call for me."

"So you will defend him?"

"With every breath I have."

"And me?" The question came out more choked than he meant it to. "If they start questioning me or think I might be dangerous or- What would you do?"

Jehan smiled, but there was something fiercer in their eyes. "I would make them see the error of their ways, of course. If that means tearing Olympus out by the root like a weed that dared harm my most favorite creation, so be it. No one will hurt you, sweetling, no need to worry about that."

That brought a smile to his face. Antoine had grown so much since he first appeared in Montparnasse's garden, he had so much strength and potential tangled up in him, but he was still their child above all. Jehan loved to see him smile, short-lived as they might sometimes be.

Antoine let his cheek fall against the mattress, his smile slipping with it. "The others speak so cruelly of my father. They treat him unfairly. He did everything out of love, and they want to keep him locked in those cold, dark halls forever. I hate it."

"Not everything was for love, dear. Montparnasse is as selfish as he is caring, but he does love us both very much." Jehan combed their fingers through Antoine's hair, leaving little blossoms in his curls. "I was selfish, too, but the rest won't hear that. It's easier for them to make him a whole villain than admit their friend shares the blame. And don't let your father hear you call his palace 'cold and dark.' It might serve as his prison, but he built that place himself and loves everything he put into it."

"I know." Antoine sighed and tapped his leg against Jehan. The Underworld was as much his home as Olympus, though he was beginning to wonder if he really belonged to either. "Maybe we can wile all of next summer away from Olympus. Spend some time hiding among the mortals like Gavroche and I used to do."

"Do you think that would fix anything?"

"No, but it might make them all miss us."

In the distance, a bell began to toll, then another, and another. The others must have reached some kind of decision and were calling them back to hear the verdict. Calling everyone, in fact. Jehan stood to leave while Antoine released his grip on the cushion and sat back up to watch them.

"I am going to see him tonight," Antoine said quietly, firmly, "regardless of what they decide."

Jehan nodded. They expected nothing else of him. "Take him my love."

"Anything else?"

"Not tonight." Summer was nearly over. Gifts could wait until they could hold their husband again. "I will see him myself soon enough."

There was a hesitation while they strode to the door, and then, "Han?"

Jehan's fingertips brushed over the door frame, and the stopped, smiling to themself. They still loved that nickname "Yes, sweetling?"

"I will find a way to bring him here, with or without the help of Olympus. I will tear down the Gate with my bare hands if I have to." He caught sight of a flicker of concern on Jehan's face and mentally balked. "After I try everything else I can think of, I promise."

"I know, Antoine. If anyone can find away, you can."

The sound of bare feet echoed through the halls of the palace, distracting Montparnasse from the souls he was supposed to be judging. He sent the one in front of him on its way before glancing to Claquesous, who nodded in confirmation. Only two people ran barefoot through the Underworld, and one would not grace his court for a few weeks yet, so that could only mean-

"My son is here," he managed to say before the doors of the main hall swung open, and Antoine came racing toward the throne. The new souls parted to let him by as he had no desire to stop. Montparnasse had time to rise from his seat, then his son all but slammed into him, clinging like he had as a child.

"I did it!" Antoine gasped, breathless but smiling, giddy with his news and a little dizzy. "We did it- Han- I- we-"

Montparnasse stilled him with a hand on his shoulder. "Breath first," he said softly. He motioned for Claquesous to take over maintaining order here while he led Antoine somewhere more private. In an instant, they were in his room.

Montparnasse took a seat, while Antoine buzzed with so much energy he could barely stand still.

"What is it you've done, sunbeam?"

"I got a day! One single day, the best day! Oh, decades of work is finally paying off!" Antoine bounced on his toes, delighted. "I hope it's enough time, I have so many things I want to show you!"

Montparnasse shook his head. "Explain, Antoine, please?"

The young god stilled a little, still smiling brighter than his father remembered in a very long time. "I finally- finally- got them to give you a day! We have to follow their rules, and I think I owe favors to Joly and Grantaire and half a dozen other gods, but Papa... Papa, you get to see the sun again!"

Montparnasse gaped at him. This had to be a prank, some trick, something. There was no way Enjolras would even consider bending on his punishment like that. The Gate was closed forever, that was how it had been, but Antoine would not be this excited over nothing. "I... I can..?"

"Yes! We can't go near Olympus, but we can show you the flowers and the stars and... everything. All the things we've talked about, all the things you've missed."

"And Jehan can come down to meet me? I can see them, too?"

Antoine took his father's hands and pulled him up to stand, squeezing his fingers with his own. "All of us. Together. On the surface. It's been promised."

"When?" Montparnasse asked, hesitant, like he was afraid to scare the idea away with a breath.

"Tomorrow."

[livinglike-itssummer]

Church Going Sinner

After this, going to church is always going to feel like a sin to Castiel.

AO3 Link

So I saw this video on Instagram and so.... So of course I had to make it Destiel

Story Under Cut

There was nothing wrong with going to church. Castiel was a fellow Catholic, believed in God, followed the commandments, the whole nine yards. He had been going to church his entire life - what with his father being a pastor and all - and while some Sunday mornings he wished he could just lie in bed, most of them came and went without complaint as he dressed for the service.

This Sunday, however, was not one of those Sundays.

After a restless Saturday night that was due to the unfortunate fact that Castiel had a broken AC unit in his room and spent most of his time trying to find positions to stay cool in, he would’ve done anything to spend his Sunday morning snuggled up underneath his covers, in a room where the temperature wasn’t 80 degrees, lost in the world of dreams and not straightening a tie around his neck while listening to his younger sister whine about being thrust into a faith she never asked for. He should’ve feigned a fever. Lord knows he was hot enough to pull it off.

But of course, by the time 8:30 rolled around he, along with his three siblings, were out of the house, piling into the car with their mother to head over to the church where their father was already preparing for mass. His aggravation with the morning only grew as Anna’s complaining continued with his mother and Gabriel kept dropping a head onto Castiel’s shoulder in his hungover state. Castiel was pushed even more towards the edge by the fact that Michael got to sit in the front seat, headphones in and completely unbothered by the cramped chaos in the back. Maybe it was a good thing Castiel was going to church today. He had to do something to get redemption for all the horrible things he was thinking of doing to his family at the current moment.

When they finally arrived at their place of worship, Anna finally gave up her whining and Castiel was able to shove his older brother off of him before getting out of the car and heading towards the large front doors of the church. Once inside, Castiel took a moment to breathe and appreciate the beauty of the building. The stained glass windows that rose up on either side depicting famous biblical narratives were by far one of his favorite parts of the design quickly followed by the tall pipes that loomed over the organ on the balcony above the altar. He had had the fortune of being able to play the instrument from time to time and his father often hinted about him being next to take over the position of “official organist.” Castiel didn’t know how to feel about that, but he accepted the praise nonetheless.

As the Novaks continued to make their way towards the front of the church to get their usual front row seating, Castiel noticed that their seats were already occupied by a group of identically dressed teenage boys. The were all wearing navy blue suits, black dress pants, and black ties that were placed neatly around their necks. He almost rolled his eyes but quickly remembered that he was in the Lord’s house and he had enough sins to pray about already.

“Come on, Castiel, we’ll just take the row behind them,” his mother said kindly and placed a hand on her son’s shoulder before guiding him into the pew after Gabriel. Anna followed after him and Michael allowed their mother to take her seat before him, allowing him access to the aisle.

“Great,” Gabriel groaned from Castiel’s left. “Another group of bad pantomiming idiots. I swear, they’ll let you do anything if it’s done in ‘the Lord’s name.’ No matter how shitty.”

“You shouldn’t curse in church,” Anna hissed in her brother’s direction.

“You shouldn’t be in church you harlot.”

Castiel raised his eyes towards the high ceiling above him as his siblings continued to argue across him. He begged the Lord on high for strength, patience, and understanding but with his family? It’d be a miracle if he got peace of mind.

Eventually, his siblings shut up due to the fact that mass started and it was time to go through the motions. Castiel’s thoughts, no matter how hard he tried to focus on the readings and the music, and everything in between, kept wandering back to the group in front of him. It was bad enough that he was sleep deprived and mass took an hour, minimum. Did he really need it to be extended by crappy entertainment? The answer clearly became a big, fat NO when Anna started to slide her foot under Castiel’s legs in order to kick Gabriel.

“Brother and sisters,” Castiel’s father said from the altar with an award winning smile, “for our homily today, I’m happy to present these fine young gentlemen in the front. They’ll be singing an original piece based off today’s gospel. May their music fill you with the Lord’s spirit and follow you out of these walls to profess to those who may still be hidden in the dark.” He turned to the group in front of Castiel and his family and welcomed them forward with a small bend of his hand. “Gentlemen.”

“Jesus Christ,” Gabriel mumbled as he slumped down in his seat and let his head rest on the back of the pew. “Wake me up when the twelve disciples are finished,” he said with a nudge to Castiel’s arm. The younger of the two decided to pick up the pamphlet that rested in a pocket on the back of the pew in front of him and open it up to the page that gave a description of the boys in front of him. Castiel had never heard of them before and had never seen them around the church. It was strange that they’d show up now out of nowhere, ready to perform for people they didn’t even know. Castiel didn't raise his head or pay them any attention as they started to sing, but made a note that they didn’t sound as horrible as some of the other acts he had been forced to sit through. Make note though that “didn’t sound as horrible” didn’t mean “they sounded great.” Castiel had just moved onto the section that relayed the group’s performance history (none of the revenues being ones he recognized) he was met with the sound of a dull thud and lifted his eyes from the program, looking over the brim of the glossy paper to examine the boys in front of the church. The one up front still had a hand raised, palm down, and a smile on his face. Castiel looked down before the raised hand to see that the microphone that was previously being held was now on the floor.

“That’s really not good for the microphone,” Anna mumbled judgmentally from his right.

Soon after her comment, the boy in front of the group grabbed the front of his jacket and pulled it open - and action that was soon mimicked by the others behind him. In sync, the group shrugged the jackets off and tossed them to the side. The leader of the group had followed the movement of tossing his jacket with his head and when he turned back to face the front, his eyes latched onto Castiel’s.

Oh, Castiel thought. Oh, he’s definitely some of God’s best work.

The boy smirked at him and Castiel felt the corners of his mouth twitch upwards. Of course, this wasn’t seen by the boy seeing as half of the church’s pamphlet was still covering Castiel’s face.

God’s Gift - Castiel figured that name would have to do for now - started singing again and turned his back to the crowd before, very suddenly and fluidly, turning halfway around and slapping a hand against his ass, eyes locking back on Castiel.

Castiel felt his mouth drop as God’s Gift started swaying his hips, the lyrics now having absolutely nothing to do with the gospel that had just been read. His hand came into contact with his backside once more before he turned back to face the crowd fully. The movements of his swaying hips slowly worked his body down to the floor and once there the sound of his hands slapping against his thighs resonating throughout the church as he gestured explicitly to his crotch. Castiel’s eyebrows shot up (similarly to another part of his body) and God’s Gift bit down on his bottom lip to keep his smile from appearing at the sight of Castiel’s reaction.

“Oh. My. God.” Anna’s mouth dropped open as she, along with the rest of the congregation, stared on in shock as the group in front of them started to…. Well, Castiel wasn’t entirely sure what. It could not have been dancing. It should not have even been considered dancing. It was more of a random jerking of body parts in a way that was in time with the music but also, somehow, completely not. Castiel was thankful that the boy he was keeping eye contact with was a little less ridiculous in his movements because if he started doing anything half as embarrassing as the rest of the crew, Castiel felt he might implode on himself.

As the dancing continued and the gaze between the two boys grew more heated as the one up front started running his hands down his body in the most obscene of ways, Castiel’s mother leaned over to get the attention of her two younger sons.

“Can you believe this?” Her face was contorted into one of disgust and Castiel jumped at her suddenly being so close to him. He quickly nodded in agreement as he (discreetly) palmed down on his erection and crossed his legs. “This is by far the most disrespectful things I have ever had to witness. And that includes the time you,” she said and pointed to Gabriel, “stripped out of your pants at our Christmas party two years ago.”

Gabriel grinned and settled more comfortably against the pew.

Still singing, God’s Gift started to make his way down the aisle with the rest of the group and they made a point of interacting with their audience. While the rest of them moved further into the church, Castiel’s eye fuck stopped right by their pew and grinded his hips up against the single slab of wood separating him from Michael who looked positively horrified. Of course, no amount of gagging or reprimanding from the eldest Novak deterred God’s Gift from breaking eye contact with Castiel and as he moved his hips against the pew one last time, he gave Castiel a wink and walked away. Gone almost as quickly (but good God not quickly enough) as he came.

Castiel watched him go before turning back to face the front of the church, still in somewhat a state of shock. He looked up at his father who was standing on the altar with widened eyes and a look that clearly conveyed the thought, “God on high, if you strike me dead right now, I won’t be one to argue.”

Anna looked from her father, to her siblings, and finally up at her mother.

“I want to be apart of whatever religion they’re representing.”

Castiel had never seen his mother’s face get so red.

The rest of the day was spent with a livid mother and an ashamed father in the Novak household. Castiel was sure he heard his mother swear to hunt those kids down at least thirty times and she had even made a few phone calls to church members and the local police. Gabriel and Anna wouldn’t stop talking about it either, claiming it was the best thing that happened since the donkey crapped on Joseph at the live reenactment of the Nativity story, but Castiel preferred that conversation to their usual screaming matches. Michael said it was something that he couldn’t let go of easily but admitted he’d be more indifferent to it if he hadn’t been that close to getting grinded on. And Castiel? Well, he didn’t really know how to feel about the situation.

Was it disrespectful? Yes. Did it make him slightly uncomfortable? How could it not? But did he wish it had never happened? Hell no. In fact, the only thing he wished for was that he had been able to get a certain someone’s number after the service. Of course, by then God’s Gift, along with the rest of the crew, was long gone. The thought would most likely haunt Castiel forever. He had never seen those kids before, it wasn’t like they’d start randomly popping up in his life now. Especially when they were going to try to keep their faces hidden after the stunt they pulled today. So Castiel would take the loss and forever wonder what could’ve been with the most beautiful boy he had ever had the fortune to lay eyes on. Maybe he’d even spend a little extra time in the shower with the thought of him and his hazel eyes, plump lips, and enticing hip movements.

“Castiel,” his father said around 8 o’clock that night while his son was moving a fan into his room. “I forgot my medallion down at the church, would you mind going to pick it up? I would myself but your mother is still quite...tense,” he sighed.

“Sure, I’ll get it,” Castiel assured. “Where’d you leave it?”

“On the counter in the back room. Right next to where we keep the chalices.”

Castiel nodded once at his father and smiled at the soft thank you he received before leaving to retrieve his father’s belonging.

He seriously contemplated going back to the car and just driving back home. He could’ve told his father he couldn’t find it and that he’d look again tomorrow and there would be no issue. All crises would be avoided and Castiel would be able to sleep in a room that had air tonight. It really didn’t seem like such a bad idea. But sometimes when you’re presented with strange opportunities, you just have to suck it up and accept them.

“Hey,” Castiel called, doing his best to sound authoritative. “What are you doing?” he asked just as God’s Gift pulled his hands away from the locked front doors of the church.

“Well, hey,” he replied smoothly and Jesus Christ if that wasn’t the sexiest voice he’d ever heard. “You here to break into the church, too?” He smiled gleefully at Castiel and wrapped his hands back around the handles. “Because I could sure use some help,” he grunted out as he pulled.

“No, actually,” Castiel answered and held up a pair of keys.

“Oh shit,” he cursed and hastily dropped his hands. “Look, man-”

“Breaking into a church? That seems kind of low, even for a guy who strips in one.”

“I- We didn’t get a chance to grab our jackets at the end so- Well, my guys sent me to go get them. I’m kind of the ring leader and- Listen, I didn’t mean for you to catch me like this.”

“No one ever means to get caught,” Castiel reasoned and stepped forward to unlock the church. “Next time you could just ask. Not that anyone would want a next time.”

The boy chuckled as Castiel held the door open for him and he walked through. They made their way into the church in silence and Castiel led him towards the room in the back where he quickly snatched up his father’s medallion and pointed to the closet that held the group’s jackets. He was more than positive his mother planned on trying the scrape their DNA off of them and while he felt guilty of denying her that opportunity, he sure as hell didn’t regret it. When the two of them made their way back out of the room and towards the main part of the church, God’s Gift came to a slow halt.

“So, you were there today, huh?”

Castiel felt his stomach drop and his insides developed got a cold, uncomfortable feeling.

“You don’t remember me?” If he wasn’t so upset by the thought that he was just another face in the crowd, he would’ve chastised himself for sounding so pathetic.

“What? No, of course I remember you,” he chuckled. “I guess what I meant was….” He set the jackets down on the nearest pew and turned back to Castiel before stepping closer, definitely too close, and hooking a finger through one of his belt loops and pulling him flush against him. “So,” he pushed out in a low rumble, “you were there today, huh?”

Castiel gulped and let his eyes flicker down to the mouth in front of his before shooting back up to meet bright green, mischievous looking eyes. “I-I was.” The boy pulled him closer while simultaneously pressing him against the pew behind him. Castiel couldn’t find a inch of space between them from chest down. “It was quite a show. Not one I’d usually recommend for “church going saints” but, hey, guess that’s not my call.”

“Did you like it?” he asked while using his knee to push Castiel’s legs apart and slot a thigh in between them.

A harsh breath escaped Castiel’s lips and he quickly nodded.

“Do you want a private show?” he murmured and leaned forward to nip at Castiel’s right earlobe. “I’m willing to give you one.”

Castiel felt his eyes flutter shut and his head tilt backwards as a soft moan left his lips. “Yes,” he whispered.

“Say ‘yes, Dean,’” he teased into his ear.

“Yes, Dean,” Castiel repeated and almost let out a whine when Dean suddenly pulled back, leaving a more than was necessary amount of space between them.

“Come sit up front,” Dean said while tapping the end of the first row pew on the left side of the church. The place where his family usually sat. This was going to be interesting if not traumatizing.

Castiel moved over towards the pew and took a seat a few feet away from the end of it. He looked up at Dean who was slowly raking his eyes over Castiel’s body, his bottom lip caught between his teeth as he fiddled with the button of his jeans. “I’ve never done this without music.”

“First time for everything,” breathed Castiel as he adjusted himself in the pew. “I’ve never done anything ever in a church so we’re both going through some things.”

Dean chuckled and lightly shook his head. “Guess you’re right. What’s your name by the way?”

“Castiel.”

“Castiel,” he repeated and Castiel liked how excited he sounded. “Oo, that sends chills down my spine.” He grinned and slowly undid the button of his jeans. “I like how it rolls off my tongue.” He closed his eyes and hummed as one hand slid down the front of his pants and the other pushed itself through his hair. “Castiel,” he drawled and gently thrust forward against his hand. “Fuck, I really like that.”

Castiel’s mouth fell open as he watched Dean touch himself while panting his name, he wondered if this was enough to get him into Hell. Should he start asking for redemption now? Would any amount of begging grant him mercy? Was it too late to at least try? He quickly shut his eyes and started rambling off apology after apology in his head. It wouldn’t hurt to at least try, right?

“If you keep your eyes closed you won’t be able to see the show.”

Castiel opened them just as Dean shrugged out of flannel overshirt and threw it to the side. Next, he slid a hand up his shirt causing it to lift up the further he went. Castiel’s eyes traveled upward as more and more skin was revealed and Dean started to sway his hips. When he finally pulled his shirt completely over his head he dropped his hands back to his chest and started thumbing and pinching his nipples, Castiel had to fight back a groan. There was actually a boy stripping in front of him. He was actually sitting in the same spot he sat in every Sunday to worship God watching a boy he had just met take his clothes off. Castiel couldn’t tell if his stupor was do to arousement or shock. Before he could figure it out however, Dean was leaning over him, hands gripping his thighs as he dragged his tongue up his neck and to his jaw where he stopped to plant a slow, open mouthed kiss against it. One of his hands moved from Castiel’s thigh to the front of his pants and gently pressed down against his half hard cock, resulting in it straining against his pants even more. Castiel moaned and let his head fall back as Dean continued to kiss his jaw and rub against his erection.

“Castiel, you sure are something else, you know that?” panted Dean as he gently brought Castiel’s head back to a forward facing position.

“Am I?” he asked while Dean stood back up and brought his hands to his jeans once more. “And what about me makes me ‘something else?’”

“For starters,” Dean began as he moved his pants past his hipbones, “you were definitely hard for me earlier today, which I find flattering seeing as I didn’t even have to touch you.” Castiel blushed deeply and hoped it went unnoticed in the pale light, the only source of it being the moon shining through the windows. “Then, you come back acting all big and authoritative when, in reality, you couldn’t care less about me trying to break in.” He pushed his jeans down past his thighs and to his ankles before stepping out of them and kicking them to the side. “And now,” he said with a laugh as Castiel’s eyes widened, “you’re so turned on by the fact that I wear women’s underwear you don’t know what to do.”

That was true. Castiel really didn’t have any idea what to do when he could see parts of Dean’s cock poking out of black, satin panties that were fitted snugly onto his frame. Of course, right after Castiel silently revealed how much he liked the look on Dean, the latter of the two had to make a show of it. He ran a hand over the obvious bulge in the front, stroking it up and down several times before turning his back to Castiel and running his hands down his ass. He hooked his fingers into the underwear before pulling them down slightly, holding them there for a moment as his hips rocked back and forth, and then pulling them back up. Castiel let out a noise of frustration that was quickly replaced by one of pleasure as Dean took a seat on his lap and started rocking back against him. He reached back and wrapped an arm around Castiel’s neck as he continued grinding on him and reached for one of Castiel’s hands before placing it on his erection.

“Touch me,” he whined and pressed his ass down harder against Castiel’s own erection.

And it was official that Castiel was going to Hell. Yeah, eighteen years of serving the Lord wasn’t going to fix this. He couldn’t let this one slide or pretend He didn’t see it. There was no way God was going to welcome Castiel beyond the gates of Heaven with an arm slung around his shoulder and a good natured ruffling of his hair as He grinned and said, “You got yourself quite a catch there, bud!” No, Castiel was going to descend and descend far. Far enough that he would spend his eternity freezing in Hell. Even Satan might judge him. He hated humanity after all, he wouldn’t exactly be proud of the fact that Castiel had joined his kingdom because he has gotten too frisky with a human.

His options weren’t all that great.

But shit. If Hell meant he would get to spend forever with Dean in his lap and a hand wrapped around his cock, then Castiel would take. Below zero temperature and all.

Dean had maneuvered in Castiel’s lap to face him and had immediately placed his lips on Castiel’s. His tongue had been sliding against his and a hand moving to unbutton his pants just as Castiel starting thinking about Satan judging him. His hips were thrusting more roughly against Castiel while the latter continued to pump his fist around his cock.

Dean pulled his lips away from Castiel’s just long enough to pant out, “God, I could fuck you right here,” before becoming occupied with kissing him again while pulling Castiel’s own cock free and wrapping a hand around it.

Castiel let out a cry and Dean pulled away from him in order to gaze upon his face as he started to unravel at Dean’s touch. “D-Do it then,” Castiel whined and raised his hips up into Dean’s fist. “You can do it,” he panted. “I want you to do it. Oh, God, I want you to do it.”

Dean chuckled and rested his lips against Castiel’s open and panting mouth. “Oh, sweetheart I would love to,” he said and removed Castiel’s hand from around his cock before slotting both of theirs together in his own fist. “But we don’t have the supplies for that tonight, I’m sorry.”

“Then screw you for even bringing it up,” Castiel snapped and Dean laughed before thrusting into his fist and moaning at the feeling of his cock sliding against Castiel’s. THey started kissing again as their thrusting got faster and more erratic. Dean had a hard grip on the hair at the back of Castiel’s head and his other arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him closer and closer with every forward motion of his hips - which Castiel’s hands eagerly pushed against with their grip on Dean’s ass.

As Dean’s hand pumped faster and faster along the pair of their cocks, Castiel was pushed closer to his edge before finally spilling over and finding his release, Dean following only a minute after. The boys rested there catching their breath, Dean straddling Castiel’s waist with his head on his shoulder as Castiel’s own rested against the back of the pew, until Dean was finally able to peel himself away from Castiel and start dressing.

Castiel sat, still panting, as he started up at the ceiling high above him. He had just orgasmed in the church he had been going to since before he could lift his own head. He had just received a strip show, a lap dance, and a handjob in his place of worship.

Satan was definitely going to judge him.

“Still in shock?”

“Something like that.” He lowered his head to look at Dean who was shrugging his overshirt back on and following that action by running a hand through his hair.

“You need help getting up?” he teased and Castiel chuckled before pushing himself to his feet.

“I got it. Thanks.”

“If I had fucked you, you wouldn’t have ‘got it,’ believe me,” he mumbled and stepped forward just as Castiel finished doing up his pants. “Will I see you again?”

Castiel scoffed and Dean smiled as he leaned in and gently pressed a kiss to Castiel’s lips. “If you can come up with a way to get around here without the angry church mob chasing after you, then sure. You will see me again.”

Dean kissed him again, this one lasting longer, before pulling away with a smirk. “I can make it work, Castiel.”

“Good…. But I’m never doing it in here ever again,” he warned and Dean let out a booming laugh. “I’m serious! I have never been more-”

“Turned on?”

“Ashamed.”

Dean pouted and Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Of myself. Not you, Magic Mike.”

Dean’s smile only grew and Castiel semi-playfully pushed him away before turning and heading towards the door.

“You’re something else, Castiel,” Dean said for the second time that night and Castiel turned to face him, a quick remark at the ready. However, as he turned the moonlight caught his shirt and he looked down to see what had caused it to glisten. He felt his stomach drop and knew he must’ve paled in the moonlight when he heard Dean ask what was wrong.

“Dean,” he said and looked up. “You gotta switch shirts with me.”

“Where’d you get that shirt?” Gabriel asked as Castiel ascended the stairs to his room after dropping off his father’s medallion (he got a lap dance with his father’s freaking Catholic medallion in his back pocket) in his room.

“I, uh.” He looked down and shrugged. “Just found it.”

“When?” Gabriel asked as Castiel continued on his way.

“When I was cleaning out my room,” he answered and hoped he sounded casual and not like the liar he was (another sin to add to the day he supposed).

Gabriel followed his younger brother into his room and crossed his arms over his chest. “You like ACDC?” he inquired and Castiel nodded, although his just now really realized he was wearing the band’s shirt.

“Yeah. Love ‘em.”

“What’s your favorite song?”

Oh, God damn it! his head yelled. Why couldn’t he have just confessed to being someone who wore the shirt without any intention of listening to the music.

“Uh,” Castiel stalled and cleared his throat. “Oo, that’s a toughie.”

“Mmhm, I’m sure. But there’s gotta be at least one song you like. Pardon me! Love.”

Castiel glared at his brother but quickly started to think. There had to be one song he knew by this band. They were fairly popular after all. There was no way he had gone his entire life without listening to at least one of their songs. And if he hadn’t, surely it was mentioned in some movie or tv show or book he had invested his time in.

“Um…. T.N.T.?”

“T.N.T.?”

“Um, yeah. T.N.T.”

Gabriel studied his younger brother for what felt like hours to Castiel but in reality was only a few seconds.

“This isn’t over.” He pointed at his brother and shook his head. “This is far from over. I’m going to crack you. I’m going to figure out what the hell you did tonight, I am.” He kept his finger raised as he backed out of the room and until he was out of sight. Castiel shut the door after him before turning around to lean against it and let out a long breath.

He really hoped God was willing to answer a few more prayers of his.