#tangled faith

[artisticpunz]

As the added member of the group, here's Faith

Lived in Old Corona until age 14, when her family moved to the Capital for work

[leoqrz]

Faith my beloved

[quietfounder]

Does everyone remember this shipping post I made? Well I talked about Faith x James, then later realized that not many people were gonna get what I was going for unless they actually *see* my vision.

[little-diable]

Tangled Faith - Tommy Shelby (1/4)

Okay ngl, I am obsessed with this story, I hope y'all like it just as much as I do. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader, a female pastor, takes over the Catholic Church in Tommy's part of the city, so, it doesn't take long for her and Tommy to cross paths. Even though she tries to stay out of his business, Tommy can't help but notice that something seems off about the woman.

Warnings: 18+, masturbation (m), mentions guns and threats, religious connotations, a lot of tension

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x female pastor reader (2.3k words)

Part Two

Every step she took made a sound so defeating those close by couldn’t help but wonder which demonic power had managed to break down the heavy doors of the holy halls. (Y/n) had her eyes set on the altar, on the heavy stone columns that formed the church into the building that towered over the surrounding houses. Her habit floated around her ankles, making her appear taller, growing in the shadows like Lucifer himself, lurking behind the wooden benches that were now empty but would be filled within the next hour. 

The scent of incense and burning candles filled her nostrils with every breath she inhaled, forcing her closer towards the altar, dropping to her knees right in front of it. With her fingers laced together she spoke a quick prayer, ending it with a cross sign. Her body knew the routine by heart, trusting herself to prepare for the upcoming service, placing down the heavy goblet, filled with wine that no longer tasted of sun dried grapes and fresh Summer, but of older times reminding one of dropping bombs, crying children, and grieving lovers. A stale taste she’d never get used to. 

(Y/n) had taken on her position only a handful of days ago, replacing the old, all too corrupt pastor, at least that’s what she had been told. A woman amongst a crowd of greedy, power hungry men that couldn’t bear being around a woman as strong-headed as (y/n), a foolish mistake those that dared to doubt her standing would eventually pay for, burning in the fires of hell down below. 

“Pastor (y/n)?” Her eyes found the dark ones of a nun she hadn’t crossed paths with yet, eyebrows raised to wait for the woman to keep on talking. “A woman’s here to see you, her name’s Polly Gray.” 

She couldn’t help but notice the slight tremble of the nun’s voice, quivering as if the name she just had spoken was a demonic ritual, unleashing powers those that breathed the same air as she did wouldn’t be able to fight against. Curiosity began to fill (y/n)’s system, studying the young nun for a moment before her gaze flickered down to her pocket watch, “There’s no time for such meetings, service starts in a few minutes. Tell her to come find me afterwards. Invite her to join in on the service.” 

The nun hesitated for a moment, fumbling with her fingers, trying to find the right words to go against the pastor’s command, but no word left the woman, slowly nodding her head before she disappeared within the shadows of the holy halls. A deep breath was exhaled as (y/n) found herself being alone once again, eyes fluttering close as an annoyed “May You give me the strength to endure this place” left her lips. 

……

“I don’t like being told to wait.” A strong, unfamiliar voice echoed through (y/n)’s office, eyes finding a pair of dark ones. A woman by far older than she was was sitting in one of the leather chairs placed in (y/n)’s office, lips enclosed around a cigarette, releasing the blueish smoke one wouldn’t be able to run from. 

“I don’t like being commanded around. Seems like we both have our minds set on things we like and don’t like.” (Y/n) closed the door to her office, finding her way to her desk, plopping down in the all too uncomfortable chair with a tired sigh. “You joined in on the service.” 

“No need to sound so surprised, pastor, I cherish my faith.” Polly Gray’s eyes didn’t dare leave (y/n)’s features, as if she was looking for something, anything she could use to go against the female pastor she had no information on. There was something about the newcomer that screamed of anger, of troubles those that were too focused on their own back and forth with men and women that found pleasure in using weapons couldn’t waste any time on. 

“Speak what’s on your mind, I doubt you’re here to confess your sins.” (Y/n) watched the woman take one last inhale, blowing the smoke out into the room before she stood up, walking closer. The two didn’t break eye contact once, a game that would go on till one of them decided to give up, to back down from a fight that wasn’t fuelled by words, though by the need to scare one another off, to mark their territories. 

“It won’t take long till you’ll find yourself having to decide who you will work for, a decision that will either put you in your grave, or help you and the church financially. We count on your help with whatever we may ask of you.” A humourless chuckle ripped through (y/n), hands toying with the wooden rosary dangling from her neck, the cold cross that pressed against her fingertips like the trigger of a gun. Perhaps Polly had expected her to give in, to tremble in fear, stuttering her words – just like Polly was used to – but whatever was going through (y/n)’s mind was by far more daunting than the other woman could expect, memories so cold even those coming from the lands far up North wouldn’t be able to endure for long. 

“The other pastors may have found themselves trapped in your empty promises and cheap threats, but I’m not them, Polly Gray. Light a candle on your way out, have a good night.” It took the dark eyed woman a few seconds to start moving, slowly nodding her head as she started walking towards the door. The clicking of her heels rang in (y/n)’s ears like machine guns going off, triggering memories she had buried beneath the cold ground, slowly giving into the tantalising call of her name. And with one last glance shared between both women, the door to (y/n)’s office was ripped open and shut with a heavy thud moments later. 

……

With her eyes set on the colourful windows, (y/n) found herself cherishing the silence filling the church. It hadn’t even been twenty four hours since her run in with Polly Gray, a fleeting night she had spent going through old notes, piecing the puzzle pieces together. By now she knew everything about Polly Gray, the Peaky Blinders, and a man called Tommy Shelby, at least the side of the story the church books told her. 

The nuns had warned her of those that walked earth with a dark aura following them, a dark aura only those that were damned could endure, feasting from their hearts and souls. Whispers (y/n) had barely spared any attention, not caring about gang wars, guns, and drugs that were smuggled, not wanting to get involved in battles that weren’t hers to fight. 

But even though she had made it clear to those surrounding her that they would no longer get tangled in the Shelby business, her peace didn’t last long. Heavy steps interrupted the silence, filling the church, walking closer towards the pastor that was sitting on a wooden bench, hands holding onto her black, worn out bible. 

“I have to say, I’m impressed. No other woman has ever managed to say no to Polly Gray’s threats.” The man’s accent grew thicker with every syllable that rolled off his tongue, body finding rest next to her frame. (Y/n) didn’t avert her gaze, kept staring straight ahead as she listened to the stranger alight a cigarette, deeply exhaling. She knew who he was, the one others feared, not wanting to cross paths with the reaper himself.

“Tell me, Tommy Shelby, have you ever read the Romans?” She felt his eyes on her features, studying the woman for a moment before he let go of an emotionless “No, I haven’t”. With her lips pulled into a smile, (y/n) slowly turned towards the handsome stranger, speaking the words she knew by heart. “If you do wrong, be afraid, for he does not bear the sword in vain. For he is the servant of God, an avenger who carries out God's wrath on the wrongdoer. Your threats may have worked on those who have called this church their home before me. Greedy men that were easy to fool, but I find no beauty in weapons, drugs, and jewellery, Mister Shelby. This church is for those who beg for His forgiveness, a forgiveness that shall only be granted if the plea comes from their heart, carried by true intentions. Pardon me if I am wrong about this, but I don’t think threatening a pastor’s life and her church will do you any good.” 

“I’ve been damned a long time ago, I don’t fear God’s wrath.” The man’s head rolled back, blowing the smoke out into the church as (y/n) kept studying him. “It seems like you’ve asked the right questions, you seem well informed about what is happening in our part of the city.” He was undoubtedly handsome, the piercing eyes that reminded her of a life she no longer was part of, the calloused fingers that felt more mental beneath them than any blacksmith in their area. Tommy Shelby intrigued her, pulled into his trap by the danger he exuded, by the tantalising shadow of death that followed him around, old schemes (y/n) was all too familiar with. 

“I know enough to pull away from whatever deal you have forced the other pastors into. This church may be open to you for prayers, confessions, and calls of guidance, but not for the price of another living soul. Now, if you excuse me.” (Y/n) rose to her feet, walking down the hallway till the sound of Tommy cocking his gun found its way to her, forcing (y/n) to halt in her steps. The sound of a gasp broke through the air, two pairs of eyes watching the frame of a young nun flee from this very hallway, finding shelter amongst those that didn’t dare interfere. Slowly (y/n) turned towards the smoking man, staring at him for a few seconds before she walked back into his direction, finding a sick satisfaction in the surprised gaze swimming in his pupils. “You may aim your gun at me, but don’t tempt me with a good time, Mister Shelby, not if you don’t intend on shooting me.”

(Y/n) came to a halt in front of him, palm pressed against the muzzle of his gun, slowly directing it towards the ground. Tommy’s piercing eyes bore into hers, silently communicating with the pastor. She stood close, breath about to clash against his lips with every exhale of cold air her lungs tried to grasp. With her hand finding his shoulder, (y/n) whispered into his ear a taunting, “Find me once you’ve made up your mind.” 

……

Days later, as (y/n) found herself finding comfort in the darkness of her office, staring at the letter that had been addressed to her, asking her to find her way to the Garrison tomorrow evening, Tommy Shelby found himself leaning back in his bathtub. The night was dark, awfully calm, an unfamiliar calmness that allowed the man to find comfort in the warm water that offered him enough peace. It felt as if the water was hugging him, reminding him of how it felt to be close to a woman, and yet his mind hadn’t been able to stop thinking of a certain woman he had crossed paths with days ago.

The moment (y/n) had walked back towards him, eyes carrying an undoubtedly challenging gaze, his mind had painted a colourful picture of her body pressed against his. He had taken a look at the forbidden fruit, getting lost in the appearance that may look like God himself had crafted her with his bare hands, but seeped something dangerous Tommy couldn’t pinpoint. 

His eyes were squeezed shut as his hand grasped his cock, giving his hardening length a strong tug. His thoughts kept guiding him, focusing on her beautiful face, the memories no longer vivid and bright though blurred as if he had woken from his dreams moments ago, unable to remember what exactly he had dreamt of. A heavy groan left Tommy as his fingers picked up their pace, hips jerking to fuck his hand, wondering how it may feel to have her touching him. 

“Fuck,” the word rolled off his tongue as if he was speaking to her, as if (y/n) was sitting in front of him, hand wrapped around his cock, tongue brushing away his drops of precum. Like fingers rolling wooden beads, she’d put her tongue to good work, carefully touching him, allowing him to fuck her mouth with enough care to not hurt her throat too much. Tommy’s heart picked up its beat, roaring in his chest to warn him of his arising high, soon enough he’d cum on his fingers, thinking of her for one last time before he broke through the cloud of lust he was stuck in. 

A string of curses left the man as he came, eyes squeezed shut, hand lazily moving for a few more moments before he let go, sinking back into the warm water. Tommy Shelby had his eyes set on the price, and he’d get his hands on her, eventually.

[avatarvyakara]

Drops of Gold and Silver

A Tangled Fanfic

Prompts 171-175

“Castle Life, Part II”

171. Practice

The Housekeeper is Mrs. Crowley to her face, Hortense to her (few) friends, Old Lady Crowley to everyone else. The Steward (not a Castellan, that's for the other cities in Corona) is Nigel to his superiors, Mr. Nigel to the staff, Eddie when he loses at poker and takes a forfeit. The Captain of the Guards is Captain or Sir to most people, Cap to Mr. Fitzherbert, and Dad to Cassandra (and apparently her pet owl too). If he has a last name, or even a first name, nobody bothers with it. Nobody can see him as anything but the Captain, and that's how it's always been.

Cook is always Cook. She prefers it that way.

(They gave up trying to pronounce either of her names round about the thirtieth try. Some of the younger servants take a go at it, every once in a while. Only three people have managed it so far, and one of them only speaks in Horse.)

172. Reiteration

The slap isn’t the worst she’s had, not by a long shot, but it’s got venom behind it and it takes her completely by surprise.

“It’s not FAIR!”

Faith cries. She moans. She stammers and backs away from the point. But she never, never yells, thinks Cassandra in shock. She wouldn’t have thought the girl had it in her to yell. Or, for that matter, to slap.

The other maids—Ethel and Margaret and Dinah and Gerda (but not Friedborg, thank the Heavens not Friedborg, she wouldn't be able to look her in either eye)—look on, stony-faced, ready to step between Cassandra and the youngest of their number if need be. But Faith, carried by terror fast overcome by rage, isn’t finished. The words are just pouring out, like boiling water from a geyser.

“Do you know how long I had to put up with feeling like I wasn’t enough? Terrified that I’d be sent back in disgrace because I wanted to be a lady-in-waiting? While you waltzed around the world playing demons and dragons and smashing anything that didn’t suit your tastes, I had to sit by Princess Rapunzel every day for a whole year and hear about how perfect you were, how I should try to be more like you. How doing the work I liked doing just wasn’t enough, because she didn’t need that. She wanted you, Saints know why, wanted someone who would break rules and insult people and hate their job. And I was fifth in line, fifth! She’d sent four of us away by the time I came in, for no reason except that we weren’t you! Of course she would—you could always take everything from us, and you never cared.” She sneers. “Not when you had a destiny as a guard to fulfill. I was this close to breaking, with Old Lady Crowley and Princess Brat tearing into every little thing I did, even Mr. Fitzherbert stopped trying to keep Her Most Obnoxiously Royal Highness at bay after the first few months. And now you come back here, wearing my skin like a pelt, and you destroy our home and bring a demon down on our heads out of greed and pride, and the Princess greets you like a long-lost lover! And you've got the nerve to come down here again, to our safe place, to find yet another chew toy! You’ve had everything handed to you on a silver platter your entire life, you were the darling of the castle—what the HELL did we do to you that you thought you had any right to take it out on us?”

And now Faith is crying, big ugly tears splashing down from furious brown eyes. “How many more gifts do the Heavens have to throw into your lap before you’ll just LEAVE US ALONE?”

“I—Faith, I’m...I’m sorry. I came down here to say sorry. To all of you. I—”

“Keep your pretend apologies, Cassandra,” she spits, and turns away. “Just go do whatever the hell you want. Go chase your destiny. Just like always. Leave it to the rest of us to clean up your mess.”

She laughs, bitterly. "That enough backbone for you?"

173. Boundary

Bigger, Owl points out from the safety of the saddle. Safer.

You’re less of a threat, Maximus replies quickly. He’ll respond better to you. Plus, you have range tactics.

Range tactics with tearing-up wings? Not-useful!

Fidella huffs. Scaredy-cats.

Scared-of cats, yes, Owl rebuts. Not-terrified how?

The Horse rolls her eyes, walks over to Whittington’s pile of rags in the stable, and gently nudges the cat with her muzzle. One crusted eye opens.

Moving please? Secret discussion. Calling when we’re done.

The cat blinks at her, stretches, and makes a point of travelling as close to Maximus as possible while walking to the door of the stable, so the Horse backs right up against the wall. Whittington, amazingly, departs without bloodshed.

...he didn’t scratch you?

Sounding so disappointed, she teases.

Owl shakes his head. He thinks the world of his big (very big) sister, but taming savage (non-talking) animals is a power too great for mortal Beast. He can only hope she uses it for good.

174. Aware

"It's just…he's like my little brother," says Stan, quietly. "I know you don't like him, but he's my family too. And—"

Vanessa laughs. "Stars, Stan, that's not it. Really. I do like Pete. I just..." She looks embarrassed. "Honestly, it sounds really stupid, but from the way you two talk it's like you’re…you know…"

Pete goes pale. "Oh. Oh. Sunlight above, no way. Nope, I am not getting involved that way with this guy. Seriously. Anyway, three-way marriages are really not my thing."

"Three-way…?"

Stan looks torn between glaring at his best friend and glancing sheepishly at his girlfriend.

"Wait. You haven't given her the ring yet? But you had this big speech you've been practicing for weeks and—"

"Pete, dear," says Vanessa, patiently, "would you mind giving us a few minutes?"

It suddenly catches Pete's attention that the front gate is suspiciously unguarded. It needs guarding. He should rectify that.

"He was just getting to it," he protests, as a smaller figure slinks around the corner to his post.

"Yep," says a teenage Cassandra smugly, popping the last consonant. "And yet, he hadn't, and you asking him means you forfeited the game. Pay up."

"You are out to bankrupt me, I'm onto you." But he pulls out a dollar coin all the same.

"You really should stop making losing bets, then. Man, that's going to be a weird story for their kids. 'How Uncle Pete nearly ruined Daddy's proposal'."

"Not my fault you got cursed with scary luck magic somehow…"

175. Campaign

Deploy troops to select locations. Ensure the perimeter is spotless. Take no prisoners. Make sure your warriors' equipment is up to snuff, and that they keep it so. Fight on the front line yourself—don't make your subordinates do anything you wouldn't do yourself. Be certain your domain is just as you want it, free from the meddling of invaders, the people inside comfortable but conscious of your ongoing efforts.

In another life, Hortense would have made a fine general.

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[o0whiterabbit0o]

It's officially 2021 now in germany, so let me wish you a happy start into this new year.

Sorry 2020, you won't be missed.

The groups out to light some fireworks at the seaside, when the most beautiful colors light the sky above the palace, to announce the start of the New Years Party at the castle, where they're heading soon.

Also, the girls in the front are just taking in the beautiful view while Varian and Kiera in the back be like "Hey, wanna go blind?" lol

Don't be like them, btw, kids. Don't point fireworks at each other xD

[ultraglittercat]

Drabble 115

Baby Shower

Varian was excited to present his latest invention because this one was made specifically for Eugene and Rapunzel in honor of their upcoming birth. Just about everyone had gathered in the corridor awaiting their audience with the (soon to be bigger) Royal Family. Behind Varian was Faith who timidly asked what he was wearing.

“It’s called a snuggly, after their favorite pub the Snuggly Duckling. It’s a forward facing baby carrier with adjustable straps so anyone from my size to Lance’s or anything in between can wear it. This leaves the hands free so Rapunzel or Eugene can keep doing whatever they were in the middle of doing when the baby started getting fussy. It’s soft and comfortable and can be made in a variety of colors.” Varian explained proudly.

“Oh wow. They’re going to love it.” Faith predicted.

“What did you bring?” Varian asked.

Faith smiled nervously. “It’s nothing much. Just this stuffed bear I made.” she replied.

“I think it’s terrific.” Varian told her.

Faith shrugged. “All handmaiden’s can sew. My gift’s not special.” Faith downplayed her skills.

“Maybe they all can sew, but not all of them were thoughtful enough to make a gift like yours.” Varian assured her.

“You really think it’s good?” Faith was blushing now.

“I think it’s terrific.” Varian said sincerely.

“Make way, make way! Best uncle coming through!” Lance hollered as he and the girls raced down the hall.

“Best cousins coming too!” Kiera and Catalina added.

Varian grinned. “Hey guys. What did you get for the baby?” he asked.

“A mobile we made with sun, moon, stars, and comet because of the family’s connection to the Sundrop and the Moonstone.” Lance said.

“And because those shapes were easy to cut out.” Kiera admitted.

“That too.” Lance laughed. He wasn’t the best artist, but Lance had a lot of enthusiasm and it was very clear he loved doing just about anything with his girls, whether it was a project, or a game, or even a day of shopping. (Unlike Rapunzel, Kiera and Catalina wore shoes. Lots of shoes. Lance didn’t even know what half of them were called, but Feldspar welcomed his new customers, and Lance was more than willing to spend some gold to make his daughters happy.)

Feldspar was also in line and he beamed when he saw Lance’s family. “Good to see you three! Girls, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve got some new ballet slippers in and they’re just your size.” Feldspar informed them.

Kiera and Catalina immediately turned and gave Lance puppy-dog eyes. “We’ll stop by your shop Feldspar and pick them up after the baby shower.” Lance promised.

“Good, good. I’ve been very busy, you know a cobbler’s work is never done! And I have the perfect gift for the baby: little booties. I didn’t know whether the baby would be a boy or girl so I chose a nice, neutral color: yellow. Reminds me of the Princess’ hair back in the day!” Feldspar smiled.

“Yellow is a good color. Me, I’ve always been partial to red and black.” Lance said. “And just my luck, my daughters have hair in my favorite shades.” The girls beamed and they leaned in close to Lance, being careful not to squish or otherwise damage the mobile while still enjoying a bear hug.

“Ahem.” Nigel poked his head into the hallway. “Her Majesty Queen Rapunzel and King Eugene, Captain of the Royal Guards are ready to see the next set of visitors. That’s you five.” Nigel instructed.

Varian, Faith, Lance, Kiera, and Catalina all nodded respectfully and walked into the throne room. Rapunzel looked radiant as always with her hair in a short, stylish bob and a pretty pink maternity gown. Eugene was also looking handsome in his Captain’s uniform.

“I’m so glad to see all of you! I can’t believe how many wonderful presents we’ve gotten for the baby. He or she is going to be very loved, I can tell.” Rapunzel smiled. “My favorite so far is the music box from Cass.”

“I don’t know if I can top that.” Varian conceded. “But I did make a baby carrier for you called a snuggly. This way you can keep the baby safe and close by while keeping your hands free. And now that I have the design finalized, I can always make more, in any color you choose.”

“Oh, Varian, I love it! Thank you!” Rapunzel rushed over to hug him.

“Slow down, Sunshine. You’ve got to be careful when you’re pregnant.” Eugene admonished.

Rapunzel grinned sheepishly. “I know, I know. I’m just excited.” she winced. “And the baby’s excited too. They just kicked me.”

“Can I feel the baby kick?” Kiera asked.

“Me too?” Catalina piped up.

“And me?” Faith asked shyly. Rapunzel nodded and all 3 girls took turns rubbing Rapunzel’s belly and waiting for the tell-tale kicks. Kiera and Catalina both squealed at the sound, and Faith cooed.

“It’s good you got to feel the baby kick, but don’t forget about our present for the baby! We made a mobile.” Lance and the girls showed off their gift.

“Very nice, thank you. Little Fitzherbert’s gonna sleep well with that hanging over their crib.” Eugene thanked his friends for the gift.

“Go on.” Lance nudged Faith gently.

“Oh! Right, um, I made a stuffed bear for the baby.” Faith stammered.

“Faith, it’s beautiful. I love hand-sewn gifts. Thank you so much.” Rapunzel smiled cheerfully.

Faith smiled back, relieved that her gift was enjoyed after all.

“We’re really glad you guys could come. Rapunzel and I are going to need a lot of help when the baby arrives, but I’m confident that we’ll raise a wonderful child who’ll be surrounded by love.” Eugene said.

“Of course. We’d do anything for you two and your baby.” Lance vowed.

“That means so much to us! We love you all.” Rapunzel professed.

“And we love you.” her friends replied. It was true, they’d been through a lot together and now more than ever it was clear they weren’t just friends: they were family.

The End

I love the whole gang (including Cass. She’s there in spirit.) They’ve all grown and learned so much from each other, it’s only made their friendships stronger.

[quirinisproud]

Honestly, it wouldn't be nearly as bad if Cassandra sought to liberate those negatively affected by the social system, not realizing she's committing villainous acts in the process, but she was only ever in it for herself and actively hurts those who have it as bad or worse than she did, and here we are.

You make a good point. I hear Cassandra viewed Rapunzel as being in the chosen elite, while she was stuck with the rest, but she never did anything to help other people in the luckless position. She even impersonated poor Faith, who has never hurt Cassandra in any way, and just wanted to be a good handmaiden.