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#ESPECIALLY when the leaders of said countries are out for your blood
fuupan · 2 months
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How to Infiltrate a Country: A Guide by Trafalgar Law
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this man is very practical
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blackdollette · 8 months
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OFF TO THE RACES. - kappa
✩♬.ᐟ now playing: off to the races. - born to die: paradise
⊹₊⋆ synopsis: my old man is a bad man...
✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @si1nful-symph0ny @livingdead-materialgirl @iiheartsai @vanlisbon @oliviah-25 @lankysimp @livingdead-reilly @yungbloodsuxca
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female!reader x kappa
word count: 846
contents: house invasion, mention of drugs, alcohol consumption, fingering, slightly toxic relationship, a little manipulation, praise
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a cult leader, robber, and a killer. you couldn’t deny that he was a bad man, but it didn’t matter when he shattered the glass window of your house, gazing at you in the dark like a predator watching its prey, taking hold of your hand and your heart in a single grasp. he quickly was able to weave himself into your life, causing you to become just as corrupt as he was, spoiled and materialistic. but he loved you more and more each day with every beat of his cocaine heart.
he watched you swimming in your glimmering pool, discarding each piece of your soaking wet bikini one by one until you were stripped bare for him. you trailed your hands down your dripping body, fingernails painted the shade of deep red that always had an effect on him. he whistled you over to him, pulling you onto his lap with his fingers shoved inside your mouth as he rubbed slow circles onto your hard pearl, swigging from a bottle of vintage champagne as your cum glistened on his fingers.
he called you his good little bunny, and you did whatever he asked of you without questions. and he repaid your obedience by spoiling you with an endless supply of wealth, giving you whatever you wanted with the snap of his fingers. 
he sped down the highway in his van, you sitting pretty in the passenger seat with your bare feet resting in his lap. you sipped from a bottle of golden rum, watching the scenery go by as you got completely wasted in his presence. he saw you as a wild little flame, and he was the fuel. you felt he was the only man who could deal with you. you were imprisoned by your addiction to him, knowing that you could never get out.
kappa was a timeless being. you’d believe whether or not he said he was 30 or 300 years old. he was as tough as nails, but as sweet as blood-red jam. as addictive as he was, you knew he couldn’t be good for you. but he was exactly what your tar-black soul had been craving all your life. that’s what he told you, anyway. he constantly reminds you that if it weren’t for him, you’d still be living your old, broke-down lifestyle and that you owed him everything you had. and without a second thought, you gave it to him.
he took you to the most high-brow hotels in the country, especially because he couldn’t stay in the same town for a long time without attracting the wrong attention. you didn’t mind always being on the run or the police chases. if anything, it made you admire him even more. he made sure you were dressed to the nines for every occasion. he loved having his girl looking good at all times, even though you were becoming a complete mess as a result of this lifestyle. 
you loved him to death, but you knew that you were going down. getting into all sorts of trouble on a daily basis. getting tangled up in crimes and even needing to get bailed by him from time to time. but you’d simply give him that innocent little smile and be in the clear again. you couldn’t stop your reckless behaviour, but you didn’t much care to anyway.
you watched the red and blue lights flashing one night, watching as your old man got taken away right in front of you. you cried and cried as you realized that you were all alone again. it had been long since he wasn’t right at your side, and you were helpless. you prayed for many hours that night, begging that he would come back to you. you weren’t afraid to say that you would die without him. after all, who else would put up with you this way? you needed him, he was the air you breathed and you couldn’t afford to leave him now. they would all rue the day that you were alone without him. on that same night, you lay in your bed, crying to the gods that they should release him. your prayers were interrupted by the sound of that same glass window shattering, and there he was, right at your fingertips once again. he took you into his arms, holding you as you sobbed into his chest. he looked down at you, a cigar hanging from his lips as he said, “i don’t think i’ve ever seen you look this beautiful, hon…”  
he was back, and worse than ever. you and him raced all over town, raising hell wherever you went. with a toss of his hair, you were all over him again. following his every command and being a good little pet just for him. and you knew he got a sick thrill from it all. he was crazy, but you would love him forever, guaranteed. and you were committed to following him until the day you died. 
you were fully convinced that he was your one true love.
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author's note: i like this one 🤭
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Note
I have been meaning to yap to you about this because I am a certified mafia jjun enjoyer but….listen!
two things: one (1) reader is hired by said mafia group to protect the leader (yeonjun) gosh I imagine like enemies to lovers? she hates yeonjun at first, and thinks he’s so so mean. At first he thinks “how is she going to protect me?” but she’s protecting him more than physically. he eventually eases up on her and ends up being mean to everyone but her. gahhh something about meanie jjunie that has a soft spot gets me.
two (2) this might be quick but reader and mafia boss tyun being from rival families, but they cross paths and end up falling for each other. aaaah forbidden romance <3
ASH I LOVE YOUR MIND. Thank you for feeding me with this. I’ve been craving gang txt ever since the new gbgb choreo, the part where it looks like they’re fighting 🫢 Number two (2) with Taehyun is so yummy, just imagine the banter they'd have with each other!
words: 1.8k oops
warnings: a bit of workplace discrimination, mentions of attacks, criminal activity, blood briefly, treating wounds, probably too soft at the end
If there’s one thing you’re going to do, it’s do your job damn well regardless of your personal feelings towards the man you’ve been hired to protect – and especially if said man seems to think you’re not fit for the job. It appeared Yeonjun was not pleased when you first showed up to work, pulling a member of his team aside and having what looked like a tense conversation. It only made you more intent on proving your position. You often butted heads, unable to agree on the right approach to many things. Yeonjun prioritized quick gains, confrontations and aggressive plays, recurrently willing to forgo his security or the safety of the more expendable members of his organisation to get what he was after. On the other hand, you wanted him to undertake less risky tactics, ones that were better for his reputation, his long-term safety. There were a couple of instances where he tried to plan some dealings without you, locking you out of his office and leaving you to stand outside fuming and trying to hear what little of the discussion you could through the crack in the door. The men took you even less seriously after that stunt – if the boss didn’t respect you, why should they?
Using your intel, you cleverly plan out routes for the driver to take that steer clear of trouble. At first Yeonjun is annoyed and questions the detour, but later that night, he learns through his informant that police were doing a random car check on the usual route, due to the crimes of a gang in the area. When he thanks you the following morning, you think you've earned the respect you've been craving. However, the good feeling doesn't last. As the day goes on, not only does Yeonjun give you his drink order, as if you're a simple assistant or coffee runner, he also laughs at a joke one of his men makes about you, right in front of you.
And maybe from time to time you fantasize about the young, stupidly good looking, ridiculously well dressed mafia boss getting what he deserved; about letting his laundering fall through, letting his shipment go to the wrong country, or turning a blind eye to the betrayal of one of his most valuable men that you have discovered. But you're a professional, and professionals don't let their sour thoughts derail their career.
It's only when the truth about the disloyalty of Yeonjun's right hand man is laid out for him that things begin to change. You had supplied all the proof, having hired a private investigator of sorts to get the incriminating photos you needed, accumulating dirt on the man who was Yeonjun's favourite, his oldest friend in the business, until there was no room for doubt in his mind.
What you hadn't expected was for the boss to show up at your place a few days after your exposé, looking more exhausted than you'd ever seen him. The betrayal had hit him hard. He seemed despondent as he glanced around at the place you lived, showing no reflection of his opinion. You weren't even sure how much he was taking in with those tired dark eyes. His hair was not to his usual standard, and his coat which was usually tied fashionably at his waist hung open and loose on his thin frame. You felt more awkward standing before him in this state than you ever had when he'd been laughing at your expense. You offered him a seat but he turned it down. All you could do was stare and wait for him to speak.
“I'm very grateful,” he began. His voice was hoarse, bringing a deepness to it you'd never known. Finally he looked you straight in the eye for the first time since he'd arrived. “I never would have seen it for myself. I was blinded by my… If you hadn't disclosed this to me…” It was the first time you'd seen him struggle to articulate himself. You nodded in understanding, and he seemed relieved.
After that, you were given a raise – a silent one, since he applied it without saying anything to you about it – and an office of your own. Not only did the jokes and snide comments from the other men stop, but they seemed to eye you with caution, some with reverence. You had become the one Yeonjun trusted most, the one he came to with his concerns, and nobody would ever question your value again. Not unless they wanted to face the boss's fury.
Things have been good for a while: you love your job – and maybe, as much as you hate to admit it, your boss, just a little bit? – when something unforeseeable happens. You're busy handling communications when you spot Yeonjun's ride pull up in the underground lot on the security monitor. Watching as the two front doors of the vehicle swing open and both the driver and the ridealong dash to open the back doors, your anxiety is thrown into gear. Then Yeonjun stumbles out from the back seat. You're on your feet before you see them check him over, out the door before he can wave them off.
By the time he's in the building, there are more men around him, asking questions and putting their hands on his shoulders in concern. He shakes them all off in annoyance, ordering them to get back to work. As the men fall away he spots you standing by, and he softens. When he approaches, you see the sharp red lines that are scratched into the side of his face, notice the bloody cuts on his hand as it sweeps his black hair up over his forehead.
“What happened?” you ask when he reaches you, even though you have a pretty good idea in your mind. You need to know anyway, as you keep a record of all offenses committed against him.
“It was an ambush,” he says simply. He watches your hands take his bigger ones from his sides and turn them over, inspecting. His hands suddenly feel cold in contrast to your warm skin as you make contact.
“Are you okay?” You glance briefly up to his eyes, indicating that your question does not refer to his obvious abrasions.
“That bullet proof glass might need a touch up,” he states rather matter-of-factly in reply, looking away from you. He sounds so nonchalant, as if it's not a big deal. Your heartbeat has picked up significantly, an unexpected reaction to hearing about danger that has already passed, and you realise that a threat to Yeonjun's safety means more to you than it should; more than a professional responsibility for his security.
You usher him into his office and locate the medical kit. This is the first time you'll be putting your first aid training to good use, you muse silently as you pull the lamp down close to Yeonjun's face. It's an intimate position you've found yourself in; Yeonjun seated on the large plush sofa while you hover above him, one knee on the seat of the sofa to steady yourself. You don't even register that your knee is between his spread legs, so focused on treating his injuries. You've never touched him before, and yet it feels like one of the most natural things you've ever done as you work instinctively, the fingers of your non-dominant hand along his cheek without your noticing. His warm eyes, which had seemed distant just a moment ago, check your face occasionally, until he abandons subtlety and they unabashedly train on you as you treat him, lit by the glow of the lamp. You try not to notice it, though you definitely do.
“I usually do this myself,” he says quietly as you reach for a new cloth and the bottle of disinfectant once more. The tug of a lazy smile appears on his mouth. “This is much better.”
Your eyes meet his, and all at once you feel much too warm. Now that you're not concentrating, you notice the placement of your knee, and your whole body seems to come alive. Retracting it as casually as possible, you hold your hand out to him, hoping your flushed state will go unnoticed. The feeling of his palm against yours sends sparks through you, making you feel like a stupid high schooler. He's still smiling, which makes it even harder to ignore. You suppose he's used to his life being threatened, used to targeted attacks, and that's how he's so calm after the ambush. Unless the starry look in his eyes speaks of an oncoming concussion.
He doesn't flinch once as you disinfect his scrapes and cuts. You're glad there's no glass to be picked out of the wounds. He watches everything you do quietly, and you find yourself having to remind yourself to breathe occasionally. It's new to be this close to him, and you don't hate it – not in the slightest. Most of his wounds are superficial, thanks to the bullet proof glass, and once you've applied coverings to the cuts on his hands, you're all finished. When you go to move the lamp away, you notice that his face has changed. He looks drained now, all his earlier charm and blasé attitude abandoned, maybe a little paler than usual even under the warm light, and you wonder if he's starting to feel the effects of the ordeal.
“I'll get you some water,” you tell him. Before you can move away, you feel his fingers softly grasp your hand. Your eyes come back to his face in surprise.
“Wait,” he says, a little weakly. His eyes are looking away from you, his brow quirked as though he's trying to figure something out. “I'm fine. Can you- can you just…”
There's only been one other time he's not been sure of his words before, and he'd been through something rough then, too. Something inside you begins to warm up and slowly melt as you realise that Yeonjun is not as unbothered on the inside as he plays on the outside. He may be tough, but he's not invincible. He may have had this kind of attack on his life before, he might even be used to it or expect it, but his body still undergoes the shock, even if it’s a delayed reaction.
His eyebrows are still slightly furrowed as he looks up at you. Without words and with the gentlest, smallest tug at your hand which you may not have noticed in another circumstance, which could probably have been played off as nothing if it had been rejected, he asks you to stay. You can't hide the smile that twitches at your lips. With something that feels like courage coursing through you, you step towards him. Turning slightly, you set yourself down on his lap and feel him relax. His arm winds around you to keep you snug to him and you lean your head onto his shoulder, getting a breath of expensive cologne. He sighs deeply before breathing evenly, dropping into a deep rest.
You're content like this, though you never imagined being this close to him, glad that he's resting when he clearly needs it, and proud that you could help. If this is how you can protect him physically, even if it's only in this small way, you'll take it. Though, in your head you've already begun thinking through methods of retaliation to whichever rival faction made this attempt on his life.
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gremlingottoosilly · 1 year
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Tongues & Fangs (Vampire!Graves/f!Reader/vampire!Shadow Company members)
Working as a personal toy for the vampire members of Shadow Company may not be your first choice while searching for a job, but oh boy, it's certainly the best one.
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Idea of monster hybrid CoD characters belongs to @bluegiragi
AO3
CW: Unprotected sex, Blood kink, Power imbalance, size kink, Reader is a bit too docile and weak, group sex.
The mission was over and it could on;y mean one thing: homegirl, you are about to be fucked. 
Living in a world where monsters and weirdly scary inhumane hybrids were an open secret to everyone but, maybe, most of the civilians, was hard on its own. Living in a world where the greatest chuck of all power structured such as law reinforcement or an army consists of wild beasts, feeding off the bodies of most unlucky criminals or enemies, and would happily eat a normal citizen who just wants to proceed with their life, is terrible on its own. 
Fucking a whole fucking private military company because it’s the only job that was fine with your lack of college education – too expensive, too useless – and general moral characteristics. Your father always wanted a son, someone who could work in the army or police. And you do just that, living on the grounds of Shadow Company HQ and constantly being in the company of your battle brothers and sisters. Although sometimes…
— Ten, be careful. We still need to give a bit to others, remember? 
A grown man, maybe 6’ or even 6’1, is sucking on your bloodied fingers. A little sting from every time his tongue goes through the scathes, wiping them clean, sends a shiver down your spine. Shadow Ten – you are not sure whether they gave up their names willingly or it was something that Graves advised them to do as his servants – was always the first to get out of the shower and run to your embrace. The image of him, fucking beautiful male with nothing to indicate his monstrosity, expert for the dull absence of life on his eyes and fangs, that were gently cutting the mere fingertips of your fingers. 
Maybe, when your father said that you need to join the military to make him proud, he didn’t mean you to join them as their personal barrack bunny – or a sweet little bag of blood, all for them to use. Maybe, you are a disgrace to your family line – but Ten is looking at you with sheer adoration in his eyes, tongue licking every last drop from your shaky fingers. It stings a bit, you haven’t been sucked ever since the special unit went on a mission somewhere in the rural Siberia. 
— Sorry, sweets. I just missed ya. 
Sweets, babydoll, darling, doll, human – they had many names to you, the ones they would chant in the middle of the night, when you were too thoroughly drained out both physically and mentally, to even think about them, gently caressing you. 
He is finally letting go of your hands, allowing you to step up a bit and just sit on the bed, waiting for others to come. You still remember your first day on the job when your body still hasn’t adapted to the constant blood draining and you still haven’t fully processed the truth about this world – and tough reality where vampires and others monsters are a normal part of our society. You remember the uncomfy mattress that they threw on the floor for you and your bruised limbs from how hard you were fucked to the concrete floor. Graves made sure to buy you a comfortable bed and set a whole little room for the sessions after the first time you got almost knocked out.
— How was the mission?
— Commander is pleased. ‘said we’ll all get bonuses for the speed.
— I guess we all know what that means. 
— We missed ya. Commander especially.
You blushed. All Shadows were equally beloved by you, and they all deserved gentle treatment from your soft hands and the sweetness of your taste – but Graves was…hitting differently. Maybe because he is the leader of the group, a master vampire that is undoubtedly one of the strongest monsters in the whole country – or maybe because he has a bit of a habit of turning you into their spoiled little pet. 
The fate of being nothing but a glorified blood sack for the group that consists of one elite vampire and his loyal thralls can be seen as rather…terrible for a young woman. You, however, have nothing to worry about – you got all the benefits of being in the army, free healthcare, gifts, money that you will never get in a civilian job, and…well, the undying loyalty of monsters who all seemed to adore you just a bit too much. 
Your fingers are brushing Shadow 10’s hair, making him purr against the one hand that wasn’t bitten by him – he is still sucking on the other one, already making you feel dizzy even from the smallest paper cut that he inflicted. The night is going to be long – but you missed them too much to even care. 
He is finally letting go of you, sitting on the knees in front of the bed. Eyes are tired – even though you know that they can’t feel exhausted anymore, not after they became vampire servants. You still pet his head, murmuring sweet little nonsense while you have this tiny moment together. Soon, the others will flood the room, biting and scratching and making you moan ever so sweetly, not leaving your side for at least three or four hours. Until you will be drained completely, shaking and waiting for them to let go of your spent body. 
— They take longer than usual…
His head is on your lap, eyes looking at you like a puppy – it’s funny, how a vampire can resemble so many characteristics of a werewolf. You are smiling softly, trying not to think about how many people he killed today, or how many unregistered crimes your company has already committed. You are saving the world, after all – and if you can help them even by just spreading your legs and drinking enough cranberry juice to replenish your blood faster then you will take it. Like a good monster negotiator you are. 
Finally, the door swings open as the imposing figure of 2-0 appears in the doorframe. He smiles, already taking off his helmet. His dark skin almost glows in the soft lights of the room, eyes are filled with nothing but hunger – a familiar feeling, can recognize these eyes from miles apart. He notices that 10 is already taking place by your lap, acting like a pet dog to cater to your wishes – so the larger Shadow is looming over you in just two swift steps. Hands on your head, fingers caressing your face with a firmness that almost makes you anxious. Vampires are ten times stronger than humans, and he can crush you with just one move – but he can control themselves, and can take you as soft as you deserve it. 
— You already started dinner? Fucking hell, sweet cheeks, didn’t know you were so desperate for us. 
He chuckles and it immediately makes your cheeks go blushing red. He can sense just how aroused you are from having to meet all of your favorite people who returned from the mission hot – at least a vampire body can be – and bothered. Ready to take the bonuses their leader promised them as a prize for good work. 2-0 is a bit meaner than the others, you can connect it to the way he became a thrall – but you like them regardless of how rough their voices or actions can be. They are still your special boys, even if sometimes you can’t even open your eyes from everything that you have endured in the night with them. 
— I missed you, that’s all. You haven’t been out off the base for so long. 
— You could still go and annoy others. Or being a vampire whore suits you more, love? 
You blush again, feeling his soft hand caressing your hair. There are a lot of people on the base, Shadow Company consists of normal soldiers as well as the most secret, monster ones. But you and your sweet little gesture are reserved only for them, of course. You can’t waste your energy on humans while a bunch of vampires making you feel like their queen now, don’t you? 
— Now, boys, behave yourself. Let’s not call our precious slut princess such mean names, how about that? 
You can immediately feel how the temperature in the room just got up a few degrees. It’s impossible since it’s filled with vampires and their cold touches are making you shake in their hold, but your face is just too warm when Graves finally arrives. Looking at you with an equal amount of fondness and hunger – a wild mix that is making your throat dry and your legs very, very wet. 
— Commander! How was the mission? 
He smiles, leaning closer. He is still not touching you, only allowing Shadows to loom over you. Grab your wrist, graze their fangs among the soft skin. Some of them are biting you already, and it’s fascinating, how such big men can work in sync and place themselves among the bed so everyone could get at least one bite and a few quick seconds of sucking on your blood. They all work together as one unit, tossing your clothes to the side so they can touch you even more. Cold fingers gracing your wet folds, making you shiver from both temperature and anticipation – you just feel too hot, too warm in their embrace even if it feels like the ice being dragged out on your body. 
— Nailed their sorry asses. And we home by dinner, as you can see. 
They have been on this mission for two weeks – and you can already feel the way your blood is too much to contain in your body. When you regularly have sex with monsters, your body starts to make more…adjustments to make it as pleasurable to both sides as possible. And in your case, the blood has been replenished a bit too fast, making you a perfect little snack for the bunch of hungry vampires who are willing to burn down any country if this would mean spending another hour between your legs. 
— I missed you. All of you. 
He smirks, such an arrogant expression – this would make your blood boil if he would be just any other annoying military man, but oh no, Phillip is the one who has been eyeing you the whole month of your employment as a simple clerk for the company. Looking at your obedient and soft demeanor, as you were sorting out documents and writing perfect reports for their missions – and just how sweet you moaned when he had bitten you the first time, sucking so much blood that it was only by a miracle that you didn’t turn into a lesser vampire. 
You, however, made a perfect little toy for him and his boys – and you couldn’t be happier. 
— Of course. Can’t even sleep with us I bet. 
Shadow – you think it’s 0-3, he never takes off his helmet and is always so teasing with you, that it makes you cry even when he is simply touching you with his gloved fingers. Still so much bigger than yours, just one of his long digits are gently rubbing your folds only to go deeper, to collect your slick and show just how wet you are. 
Another person is showing two of their fingers inside, making you clench from the sudden stretch – you didn’t have sex in two weeks, after all, and are bound to be a bit more sensitive for this game. Shadow only chuckles, using two of their fingers to gently rub you from the inside. Feeling how your walls are tightening up from the invasion. It’s cold and your pussy feels like it’s melting, the contrast is too much for you to handle – maybe, you should be a bit ashamed of how aroused you are from such rough foreplay when two digits are inside of you, and the third, glowed one, is pressing and rubbing small circles on your clit. 
Someone is biting your neck, blood dripping to your collarbones and collecting into small droplets before falling even further. Sweet red path for your favorite monsters and 2-0 already has his tongue on it. Dragging a long lick from your neck and down to your stomach. Pressing cold lips against sensitive spots of your skin. Making you moan and shiver, clenching the fingers even more. It’s almost too much, a human body shouldn’t be experiencing so much pleasure from just one session, but here you are – hands gently pressing and tugging on your body, tongues covering you with icy cold mix of their saliva and your blood. 
And Graves, looking at you like the king of it all – which he certainly is. 
— Enjoying yourself, doll? 
You can’t even master a soft smile, too caught up in the feelings as one of the Shadows is sliding his dick inside of you. He is average, maybe a bit on the longer side, but he is perfectly fit to your clenching walls, and you can’t be presentable enough not to moan like a slut when he starts moving, finally meeting your hips with his. 
Maybe, you should have a bit more morale when one of the vampire trolls is ramming his length inside of you, not caring if the pacing is too fast, and two other Shawods are sucking little bruises into your chest. Not forgetting to bite this sweet flesh of yours, leaving behind bloody trails that are getting licked by the others. Not a single droplet of blood goes to waste, and the soldiers can be very resourceful – they are kissing you with hunger. Something so primal and deep, that no human can ever hope to understand – and yet, you are enduring it, moaning sweet songs for the vampires around you. 
Phillip smirks again and leans closer, finally taking your hand into his. Fangs – bigger than everyone else’s – are biting your wrist, sucking all of the excessive blood that was collected here while they were gone. He is always so passionate about biting you, never doing it as a simple act of feeding on you. Shadow company has its own blood storages and enough convicted criminals to feed off alive people as long as they would like – but you are their beloved pet, a cute treasure that they are hiding just to use for their pleasure alone. And oh, how much you enjoy when he is dragging his tongue among everyone else’s bite marks. 
Shadow rocks his hips deeper, inviting you to scream his number – they forget their names after they became eternal servants to Shadow Company – and beg him to be faster, to bring you much-anticipated pleasure. And he obliges happily while Phillip is taking care of your lips, biting and kissing them at the same time. Allowing you to taste your own blood on his tongue, to feel just how mad you drive them by merely existing. 
There is no rush in their actions, they are calm and collected – like one giant organism, when just one of the Shadows finished inside, painting your walls with its coldness, another one takes his place. Vampires can indulge in mortal pleasures such as good food, drinks, and sex – and oh, princess, you are combining all three of these. 
— Such an obedient toy for us. Can’t even cum without our hands, hm? 
Phillip smirks again, talking softly right into your ear. A hand is pressing on your stomach, making you feel a much larger dick inside of you, readjusting your insides for their liking, leaving you as nothing but their doll. Perfectly obedient and sweet for everyone who would need your skills to pass some exhaustion. 
Shadows are not using you just for your blood – your whole body is a special prize for them, making everyone's performance even greater as they know that shall the mission be a success, they will be rewarded with extended time between your legs, or on your neck and soft embrace of your arms. Unfortunately, you are human – and can’t take a vampire’s affection as easily as you would want. So, they had to make certain adjustments, only touching you when they need to recharge after work, and only if your blood was replenished and in need of a bit of…”trimming”. 
Graves looks at you for a few seconds, before placing his firm hand on your neck, Making you moan as this position blocked your breathing for just a bit, as you clench around the length that was still penetrating your already soaked and used hole. It’s big, and even the wetness of your folds is not enough not to feel stung as it deepens inside of you, painting you as their property. You feel the kiss again, Shadow 4-1 presses his larger body against you, smiling as you whine a bit into his lips. He is cold, they all are – but you still feel the warmth spreading in your body, and just how obediently they were searching for it, making you share the heat of alive body among those who stopped breathing years ago. 
Second Shadow is much rougher, you can feel his dick twitching inside of your gummy walls, as you are trying to relax as much as possible, knowing that they won’t get enough until you are fucked thoroughly and each of your holes is stuffed with them. Even though they are immortal, they still have the patience of someone who doesn’t have much time. 
Fingers entering your properly lubed and already prepared – just a bit of fun while waiting for your team to return – asshole. You are still tight, still too hot for them to control their instincts – and soon one digit turns into two, then the third gets added to your already relaxed walls. Someone is kissing you again, right before leaning back and propping their dick in front of your already swollen lips. 
It’s magical almost, how all of them are managing to move in unison, to enter and exit your body with harmony that just cannot be normal. And yet you are filled completely, not a single hole being left without something entering it. None of them are small, you can feel two dicks moving inside of you, kissing your folds with a firmness that only monsters are capable of. They can’t get tired, they can just use your body as much as they would want – but they are trying to be soft, not to break their favorite little toy, even if you look too tempting like this. 
Stctetched and wet, with your liquids covering your lower stomach and hips, as you feel them relentlessly pushing. You can’t even moan through your orgasm, your mouth is stuffed with lengths that made your jaw and throat hurt a little. Graves is squeezing your throat even more, making you cry and gag, sending vibration down the core of one of the Shadows – you think it might be 4-0, but it doesn’t even matter anymore. They all gave up their names and faces when being reborn as thralls, and you can’t discriminate between them. 
All Shadows are adoring you – and you can feel it in just how hard they are, how firm their hands and bites on your body are. Phillip kisses your forehead while still caressing and squeezing your throat, and you still cough relentlessly, gagging on the dick that was still being stuffed in your mouth – moved ever so carefully, not to make you actually sick. You feel like a chewing toy that was thrown out to hungry dogs – which, again, was quite funny since none of them were werewolves. 
Someone is touching your clit, not even letting you fall from the heights of your first climax, already preparing you for the second. A hand is moving on your stomach, pushing the little bump that was created from the combined length of dicks stuffed in your holes, and you squirm, feeling just how insanely tiny you are around them. You barely have any place in you, even just one dick in your ass is more than enough to make you tremble and beg for kindness – but oh, vampires are cruel creatures and they know exactly how much you can take before breaking. 
Graves is pushing another finger in you, among the length that was already pushing inside of your soft abused pussy, all red and swollen from your combined liquids when the first Shadow that was fucking you, finally finished. He is still hard and stays still inside of you for a few seconds, allowing his commander to make you squeal on his fingers. It’s not going to fit, even just one finger is too much and you are crying already, mouth trembling and eyes watering – but he pushes again. Adds another finger. 
— Don’t act so shy, doll. I know just how badly you want it. 
And the worst thing – he is right. First Shadow exits your body, a trail of cold liquid makes a mess between your legs, before being immediately stuffed right back into your already used hole, as the second one takes his place. There are simply too many people who were working on the missions and deserved a little treat for being such good little vampires – and they all love you too much to ever stop touching you. 
Maybe not everyone would get their fill today, but there is still tomorrow. And the day after. And the whole week before anything new on the job will come out and you will be allowed to rest without icy cold hands on your body, fangs penetrating your skin and little praises whispered sweetly. 
— Such a good girl for us. 
— Missed ya too much, sugar. 
— Can’t believe you’re still so tight after all of this. 
— Tell us when you’re tired, okay? We can just fuck you tomorrow, just say a word. 
— Feels so good around me, princess. Gonna drink a bit more, m’kay? 
Teeth on your skin again, someone is gently sucking on your hardened nipple – thankfully, without breaking the skin and drawing some blood. They can control themselves when they know that they can genuinely hurt you – and so you just close your eyes, allowing them to play with your breasts. Phillip is placing one hand on your chest, squeezing the soft flesh, and playing with your sensitive bud, grazing it with his rough fingertips. Making you feel dizzy from the sensation of the gentle touches, rough bites on your naked hips and relentless thrusting in your body. 
Shadow in your mouth finally comes, making you cry again, throat swelled around his thickness. It’s too cold for your and you are coughing, immediately feeling soft hands caressing your hair. Thanking you for being such a good toy for them, for being so soft and obedient – even when their touches were crossing the line between hurting and arousing you. 
Sometimes they can’t control themselves, biting just a bit too much, forgetting how fragile a human body can be – especially yours, already thoroughly fucked by at least four shadows in a row. Many of them are cumming even without being inside of you, covering your shivering body with even greater amounts of cold. It almost feels a bit too much, even when the general temperature in the room is quite warm. But thralls can be a bit too much, forgetting about self-control just enough to make you cry and whine, begging them to give you a break while no one can hear what you are saying through your moans and sweet little sounds – and this is when Phillip finally comes to play with you for longer than a few lingering touches. 
— Alright, shadows, our doll is pretty tired for today. Let’s give her a nice last round and return tomorrow, hm? 
He loves you and cares about your soft, fragile mortal body. However, not enough to actually give you time to rest while he knows, that you can handle this again, just one last time. He may not be the biggest one of the monsters – some people from the team are built like natural beasts – but he is certainly the strongest. Vampires have their charming abilities, allowing them to make you so sweet and docile to their actions, but his authority is something that comes not just from him being a master – but also purely from his behavior. 
Firm hands are placed on your waist, making you freeze in one place on the bed. He smiles at you, an arrogant look in your eyes that makes you smile involuntarily and open your legs just for a bit. Enough to make a mess again, the combined liquids of you and all of the other vampires – and not a small blood stain. They are never allowing even a single droplet to waste.
— Relax, sweetheart. You can take it. 
He bites your neck, fangs cutting deep into your soft skin. Ducking the most amount of blood than everyone today – the right of the commander, to use you like nothing but his personal three-course meal. Satisfying every means of hunger that he could have. 
Graves kisses and bites you at the same time, placing the tip against your entrance. You are clenching around nothing, too fucked up to even think about how messy and slutty you look like – stretched open holes, filled to the brim with their cum, lips swollen and face wet from tears and sweat. Eyes closing and opening, Heavy breathing, as he thrust deeper, filling you in one quick movement. 
He is big, long and thick – and he knows your body too well, he brushes against your sweet and sensitive spot. Fingers already working on your clitoris, not allowing you even a ten-minute break from your previous orgasm. Maybe he can’t fill you like some of the other Shadows, but what he may lack in certain seized, he compensates in experience – hips beating in yours, leaving soft skin bruised. He is strong, maybe a bit too much for you – bit gods, just how much you like him thrusting inside of you, ignoring all of your dishonest pleas of being slower. 
— Please, please. oh god…f-fuck, Commander, I can’t…
You feel your breathing getting faster and faster. He presses one hand against the forming bulge in your stomach, smiling with pride in his eyes as you are closing your eyes again, the sensation too much for your poor body. Shadows are encouraging him to be faster, stronger, to touch you more, make you climax every second as you deserve to be treated as a princess – and fucktoy at the same time. 
— You can, doll. Just take it like a good girl, you almost here.
— Please, I can’t…can’t cum again, it’s too much. 
You are begging, and it only makes him smile more. Gentle kiss on your temple, hips moving even faster against your body. He is close, but he wants you to cum first, to claim that he is still the strongest in his team. Assert dominance as their master. And you are not sure if you can even handle this, in a state like this – especially. 
— Just one more, for me. Look so fucking pretty like this, doll. 
His hips are arching more, making every rough thrust even stronger. You can almost feel how the bruises are forming on your ass from just his movements, but you don’t really care – you were more interested in how gently he rubbed your swollen clit, playing with soft flesh as gently as a monster can. The contrast alone is enough to make you feel silly and blubbery, leaving you without the ability to speak comprehensively – but he likes it even more. Turning you into their obedient doll. And you liked it just like that. 
Phillip uses one hand to steady your body, holding you by your waist, and the other – to tease and stimulate you. Other Shadows are gently rubbing your hair, and your chest, playing just a bit with your tummy and bite marks that they left – no one is allowed to fuck you while the commander is using your body, but they are pretty content with simply making you feel good. Making you cry from understanding just how much they adore you. 
— She is so pretty while fucked stupid. 
— Don’t ever want to leave her again while she cries like that. 
— I’ll take the aftercare duty. 
— Fuck you, I wanted to do that! 
— Shadows, for the love of…just shut the fuck up. You all can take turns while caring about our sweet lady right here but don’t make a mess. She needs to rest normally, without your hungry asses. 
Phillip can seem cruel and uncaring – but he smiles, looking at your fucked dumb face, and kisses you so gently, so sweetly, making sure that you are overstimulated just enough to make you cum for him, but not enough to actually make you uncomfortable. The firm rocking of his hips is just enough to make your cunt clench around his once more, while he is not stopping even when you are finally finished for the last time. You are spent, completely. It’s hard, not to be like this when he is literally making everything in his power to make you go crazy around him. 
He picks up the pace after you feel from the heights of your climax, almost being too rough – but oh, it’s so worth it, when his cold release is making you clench one last time. Your insides feel too hot and uncomfortably messy – but his lower temperature is just enough to make you relax, finally opening your eyes and smiling at him with nothing but sheer exhaustion. 
— Did so good for me, hun. 
— Th…thank you, sir. 
He kisses you, licking the small droplets of your blood. Maybe, being in a relationship with a bunch of monsters is no good – but you didn’t care as long as they love you so much. 
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silantryoo · 2 years
Text
BONUS [ RP STONT ] — iz*one’s ahn yujin?
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y/n and yujin’s first hangout
WARNINGS ; mentions of overworking, death threats, misogyny
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y/n sat quietly as yujin stared at her, wondering what to say to the girl. the hybe idol had just arrived when the news had dropped, leaving the awkward situation much more awkward than it already was.
even though yujin didn’t know the girl well, she felt bed.
“are you okay?” yujin asked, the wind blowing her hair as the two stood against the edge of the railing on starship’s rooftop hangout.
y/n’s eyes moved to scan the city of seoul. she wondered how people could hate her so much for something that they knew nothing about. did people just naturally hate her? was it in her blood?
y/n hated being a kim sometimes.
“i feel like shit.” y/n said honestly, she looked over to yujin with her eyes glazed over. “but yeah, i’m okay.”
yujin looked her up and down. chaewon had mentioned to her that y/n was going to get like this, but yujin had dealt with enough drama in IVE to be comfortable enough to push.
“are you sure?”
y/n stared at her, immediately knowing the worried gaze of a leader.
“if you ask me again, i’ll break down.” y/n winced, realizing that it might have been a bit too hostile.
yujin wasn’t fazed. she understood how hard the situation was. she was couldn’t imagine how tiring it must be to be the scapegoat of the group. the public was brutal, especially when it came to girls who naturally attracted people towards them.
she was just surprised that the public was more repulsed by y/n herself than by the thought of two girls dating. their country may have progressed, but they still hated women.
“i’m sorry. i’m just embarrassed.” y/n apologized. she shook her head as she looked at the business below. “i can’t believe i’m breaking down in front of my bias.”
yujin felt herself blushing, not expecting the girl to be so forward. she covered her mouth, her smile making her eyes squint into a moon shape. “i’m your bias?”
y/n nodded, not sure what the big deal was. “in iz*one, yeah.”
yujin’s face dropped. “not in IVE?”
y/n shook her head almost automatically, hiding a smile as she watched yujin’s face. it was always fun to tease leaders. they usually had the most extreme reactions.
maybe that’s why y/n loved teasing minji so much.
“you have no taste.” yujin rolled her eyes, a playful smile covering her face.
chaewon was right about how the two of you would get along. it was nice to finally have a friend around her age that wasn’t insanely busy all the time (read: shin yuna).
y/n scoffed, leaning back. “you’re just bitter.”
“you’re just blind.”
y/n chuckled, IVE’s leader joining soon after. it was one of the very rare times that the two felt like they weren’t hanging out to make connections, something extremely common in the industry.
yujin finally had someone who she felt like she could talk to about things aside from work, and she knew that y/n felt the same, even if the two of you had more friends than just each other.
the two girls fell silent, once again watching the busy streets of korea.
y/n couldn’t help but start to worry. the media had a horrible way of twisting her into the villian, even back when she was a trainee. she couldn’t imagine minji going through something similar.
it made her angry, and made her fearful for the younger girl. she would never say it out loud, but she would gladly take the hit for minji if it meant that she got to live in a world that wasn’t like hers.
y/n just wanted minji to be okay.
yujin looked over to y/n, noticing that the girl was starting to overthink. she knew that face, yujin saw it in the mirror every time she looked.
“we can talk about something to take your mind off of it.” yujin hummed, y/n’s eyes snapping to the taller girl’s.
yujin sent her a smile, waiting for her to speak.
y/n blushed, not realizing that she had been that noticeable. she nodded, thinking of something to talk about. “i found this 7/11 that sells really niche american snacks.”
“wait what?” yujin stood up straight. her members would’ve loved to go there. “where?”
“i don’t remember.” y/n shrugged, a small grin appearing on her face. “i was with minji and we just ran around until we found something good.”
yujin nodded, squinting slightly as she observed how the shorter girl had started blushing.
“she almost got ran over on our date actually.” y/n reminised, looking back down at the street below.
minji had been in such a big rush, realizing that it was way past midnight and she was definitely going to get scolded by her manager in the morning.
“wait…” yujin’s eyes went wide. “you guys are actually dating?”
“no, like friend date.” y/n laughed, a small pang going through her chest. weird. “minji wouldn’t date me.”
yujin nodded, not believing the girl. “but you would date her?”
“if i liked her, yeah.” y/n shrugged, not sure why yujin was asking such random questions. “she deserves someone who’s good to her.”
yujin hummed. she felt like y/n was hiding something, and yujin knew she was nosey. y/n was her new friend, so pushing a little wouldn’t hurt.
“who would you want her to date?” yujin asked.
y/n thought a little, not sure why the question bugged her so much. “someone who she can have fun around.”
“oh,” yujin smirked, looking at y/n’s oblivious face. “like going on 7/11 dates?”
“yeah!” y/n agreed almost immediately. she turned to look to yujin, wondering if she was hinting at something. “are you dating anyone?”
yujin stopped herself from laughing. “i’m too busy being the leader here.”
y/n scoffed, hearing that excuse before. “you sound like chaewon-unnie.”
yujin gasped, hating the fact that she had been compared to le sserafim’s leader. she was nothing like that.
“chaewon-unnie’s blind.” yujin complained, ignoring y/n’s loud laughing. “she can’t even tell that minju-unnie has been waiting for her to ask her out. i’m surprised she even pulled.”
y/n laughed harder, momentarily forgetting about the entire problem of the night. “sounds like you’re projecting.”
“i can’t pull because everyone thinks i’m dating wonyoung.” yujin whined. she loved wonyoung but not like that. “wonyoung’s not even my type—”
“wonyoung’s not your type?!” y/n shouted, immediately wincing after she realized how loud she had been. “she’s everyone’s type?”
“not mine.” yujin sighed, smiling as she thought of her type. “i like people who can make me laugh without meaning to.”
yujin bit her tongue. she liked funny people, someone who didn’t care about cameras, but who was just themselves. she liked that type of funny.
“minji’s like that.” y/n smiled before glaring at yujin. “you can’t date her though.”
yujin sighed, shaking her head. “i know.”
“i’m serious.”
“i. know.”
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250 notes · View notes
hulhudhonado · 2 years
Text
"I Think You And I Should Partner Up"
Part 1 | Part 2
Note: I have been reading a lot of Pantalone fanfiction and most mention him giving gifts, pampering you or they are those very dark ones where he is not so kind to you. I wanted to read one where he sees you as an equal since most just gives of sugar baby or very obvious power dynamic vibes. Like we barely have any information about him. Lets make as much shit up before hoyoverse finally reveals more about him. This is also going to be very long. I might also make more parts since I have a slow burn idea for this. Enjoy.
CW: Fighting, blood, mentions of a character's death, Cursing.
HC: Reader is gender neutral and has a reactivated vision (Hydro). Reader is also very unlucky, pessimistic and full of rage.
Characters: Pantalone
Rampage
You wondered whether the archons decided to curse you from the day you were born. Born in the coldest day that Snezhnaya had to face, the village leader had told your parents that while your sister would bring them joy you were going to be the one for their downfall. You scoffed when you were old enough to understand what they were saying. You weren't the reason that Snezhnaya had not escaped the cold winters for decades. It was the Tsarista's who had done it. But of course no one would say her name in vain and you too had to keep quiet if you wanted to keep your head.
While your sister grew up amongst the praising adults, you hanged out amongst the rest of the kids just like you. Hungry and cold, fishing or hunting in the woods. "I'm going to be a fatui solider when I grow up. I heard they get to hold cool weapons. That would definitely help me hunt better " Said one of them. "I want to work under the Tsarista. Maybe I will get a vision if I get her blessings. " Said another.
" I just want to get a lot of Mora when I grow up." You look up towards the voice. A young boy spoke softly, his hair was long and ragged but you knew it kept him warm. His glasses were crooked with broken lenses and he also had ragged clothes just like you and the rest of the kids who sat near the campfire which was slowly dwindling.
You scoffed at them all. " I just want to get the hell out of this damn place." You mumbled. That was the final conversation you had with them. Quiet whispers of dreams for a future that barely had any fruition. However things always go in unexpected ways.
When you made your way back to the your house that night, you were bombarded with hugs. You froze, shocked by the sudden action, something that you had barely experienced. Especially from your parents. You looked at their faces which were full of joy. "Your sister got a vision! We are saved!"
The rest of it was a blur. You and your family making their secret escape from Snezhnaya that same night. You didn't get to say good bye to the kids at the campsite. Not that you cared, you were finally leaving the country that the archon has abandoned years ago. You were going to have a future.
---
Years had passed, yet you were still living in the same conditions as when you did back when you were at Snezhnaya. Your parents had put their whole heart, time and money onto your sister who they praised you became a star in Fontaine with the Hydro vision that was bestowed upon her. How pitiful it was to find out that she had no talent for it.
She couldn't hold a weapon, nor read a spell. A vision in the hands of someone who couldn't even use it properly. You had to hold back your bitter laugh whenever your parents would mumble that she would one day become a famous adventurer. 'Delusional people' You thought bitterly.
You joined the adventure guild alongside her. Even if you didn't hold a vision you could fight, a spear was enough to hold monsters back. Even if you weren't the most prevalent fighter, joining the guild made you realize your love for research. You began to write articles after articles for the Fontaine newsletter hoping for a moment of stability if one of the articles was received well.
However as usual, things almost never go your way and you genuinely still wondered if the archons just liked to mess with you. You held out your newest article to the editorial manger. You could feel yourself sweating bullets. You watched in disbelief as he sighed, setting the papers back down into your hands. "I still don't think you have the grasp of this yet. "
"But you barely read it " you mumbled.
"It's not just about the content, it needs to be interesting. Eye-catching. Fontaine is a place of innovation. We want something new and exciting. Not something factual. " He answered. "Maybe you should aim to be a Sumeru researcher instead. However if you want to try again," He handed you a magazine.
It was flashy, full of various texts.
'What the stars says about your future!'
'The new hit series "A Legend Of Sword" is now available in Fontaine!'
'The latest hit inventions of Fontaine near you!"
"This is what the people want to read" You looked at him in disbelief as he gave a weak smile before heading away. You stared at the magazine again. Looking back at the first title boldly printed on the cover. You open the magazine and pull up the page, slowly skimming to your birthday.
" Your days of tragedy are almost over! Big changes are going to happen soon! Don't turn down any new offers which you are going to come across! Good luck!"
You could feel yourself grip the magazine tightly, the cover crumpling under your hands. Even the magazine was somehow making fun of you at this point. You huffed annoyed, chucking the magazine and the envelope in your hand into the trash before making your way back home defeated yet again.
As you tried to figure out how to make ends meet for the month, you slowly walked towards your house, to see members of the adventurer guild near by. Your mother sobbing into her hands while your father looked worse than ever. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, making your way towards them.
---
Your sister had died. Ironically she died by drowning during a mission. You tried not to laugh. You were not happy but how could you not laugh when your life felt like a joke at this point. Was the stars mocking you? Was this the so called big change that was happening in your life? How fucking incredible. The rage that had been building up inside you was close to spilling out.
It didn't help while through sobs your mom kept wailing 'Why did it have to be her. Why couldn't it have been you?' while your father would not look you in the eyes. You wished you had died instead too, at least you wouldn't have to live with people like this anymore.
You held onto the now blank vision. It used to shine a bright blue and was safely placed as a clip in your sisters hair. How funny it was that now the blank vision was laid on your hand. You gripped it tightly before shoving it in your back pocket.
The wails from your mother would not stop, you couldn't hold it at this point. You began to get up and make your way outside. "They were right, your birth was going to be the downfall for us." You could hear your mothers shout one final time before you closed the door behind them as loud as you can. You sigh, looking at the sky, stars barely visible.
"Fuck you stars."
---
Days had passed. Ends were barely being met and you knew your parents were in no shape to work anymore. You began to work odd jobs. Any jobs that the adventure guild could provide at this point. You gave up writing, you didn't have the time for that anymore.
"Thank you for doing this delivery in such short notice." A customer told you, handing the fees for the delivery to you. You smiled at them. "Don't mention it."
You couldn't even remember how many times have you said that at this point. All the easiest and quick paying jobs involved last minute deliveries. You counted the Mora in the bag that they handed you. It was barely enough for a day. You sighed, dropping it back into your bag before making your way back to the Adventure's guild quest board to hunt for another job.
You scanned the board, seeing not many interesting ones that you could handle. Just as you were almost ready to give up for the day, your eyes locked onto a flyer for another delivery. It was a delivery for a carriage to Snezhnaya. You looked at it in awe when you saw the reward amount. Almost half a million mora! What a steal! The delivery was almost estimated to take only a week! You immediately took the flyer, heading towards Katherine to find more details. You were not going to let it slide.
You were informed that the earliest it could start was the next day. Excitedly you went back home to pack. The amount would be enough for you not to worry for at least a couple of months. Paying back any missed house payments or food bills would be a breeze. You thought maybe your luck was finally turning.
You stepped inside your house, excitedly calling out to your parents. They had not been in work for a while since your sister had passed away. However now you could tell them there was no worries for now. At least you thought you could. You were greeted with an empty house. You looked around, almost everything was left how it was.
You went inside, stopping at the kitchen to see a note had been left at the table. Picking it up, you began to read.
"We're sorry. You're an adult now so take care of yourself. "
All that was written in the note. You immediately felt your blood run cold. You rushed to your room, pulling out a dirtied box from under your bed. It held all your funds. The amount you had been saving up for the last couple of months to be able to pay back all the pending payments you and your parents had accumulated. However opening the box, all you could see was it was empty.
They had taken the money and ran. You don't know where, and now they have left you alone with all their debts to you. You knew the next time you ever come across them, you were going to make sure they end up just like your sister.
---
You sold the house and any other possessions that was in the house to try pay off the debts left. Luckily for you it was enough. 'Enough to start over' you thought. You decided the best solution would be to become a wandering adventurer instead.
You packed your things and began to make your way to the designated sight for the start of the delivery journey. The merchants were very nice. They told you stories of all the place that they had gone to. You kept a mental note on where those places were since you planned on going there after this commission.
The journey itself was pretty tame. The weather was relatively calm and only a few slimes and hilichurls bothered to attack. You smiled to yourself satisfied.
You were only supposed to take them to the boarder. So you were not worried, at least you were not worried until you realized who was waiting near the boarder. Fatui soldiers. They looked big and intimidating. Their delusions showed clearly that they had some sort of elemental power with them. You could feel your heart begin to quicken. Something was not right.
"Are you sure this is all that was ordered? " One of the fatui soldiers grumbled. The merchant hesitantly laughed. " I am certain. I can show you the records if you want confirmation." You watched in horror as the fatui soldier glared at him, grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him of the ground. "Don't mock us. The Regrator is not someone who will order such a measly amount."
The soldier dropped the merchant to the ground. You immediately ran to him to see if he was alright. The merchant gave you a weak smile before trying to get up, only to be kicked back down. You were shocked, being a fatui agent must have gone to their head.
"Hey!" You yelled back, holding your spear tightly now. "He said he would show the records. Why are you being a dick about it?" The fatui soldier scoffed at you while the rest around him laughed. You could feel your rage pile up again. You pointed the spear at him. The fatui soldier raised an eyebrow at you. "Are you picking a fight?" He questioned. You sneered at him. "Why you asking? Scared to lose?"
You wondered if you shouldn't have said anything because the fatui soldier began to pick up his weapon. All you remembered was yelling at the merchants to run before rushing towards the soldier, successfully plunging the spear to his side. You felt a smile rise on your lips hearing him groan, only to be interrupted by a smack from the side, pushing you away. You could feel it sting but you pretended it barely did anything.
"Wow, two against one? I'm not even a vision user."
---
You don't know what you expected. You were not a vision user. They had delusions. They could use elemental energy to attack and all you had was your spear. You could hear their jeers and laughter while you tried to get yourself back up with the help of your spear which also looked as if it was in it's last legs. You could feel blood dripping down from your head. Scars from your body also bled non stop. You could feel yourself feeling faint.
'It isn't fair.' You thought. You had not felt comfort from the moment you had been born. Why had this been happening to you? So much for big changes and not turning down offers. All you had left in you was rage. Fuck your parents. Fuck your dead sister. Fuck the stars. Fuck the Tsaritsa and the rest of the archons in Teyvat You hoped they all dropped dead and become forgotten.
The fatui soldier kicked you one last time to the ground. You could feel blood almost instantly pool on the ground. How miserable it was that this was how you died. You felt your eyes close when suddenly you felt a slight warmth in your pockets. A sudden rush of energy filled you. You eyes immediately shot up and you could feel yourself stand up again.
The fatui soldiers looked at you in awe, watching you stand up as if you were not beaten to certain death just a minute ago. Your hand reached into your pocket, pulling out your sister's blank vision. However this time it no longer was blank. You watched it shine a bright blue color yet again. You gripped the vision, wickedly smiling at the fatui soldiers who began to hold up their weapons again.
"I'm going to fucking kill you all."
---
The sun was slowly setting in the horizon and Pantalone could feel the Snezhnaya air become colder along with it. He gripped his coat tighter, breathing out a huff of air to see the whisp of white smoke form due to the freezing temperatures. Pantalone sighed. Snezhnaya had not changed one bit. It remained cold and desolate even with all of the people around it. He could only pray that it will change after the Tsaritsa's vision becomes successfully granted.
Pantalone began to make his way out of his office, only to be stopped by a fatui agent who seemed to be in quite distress. Pantalone sighed yet again, working alongside the rest of the harbringers was tiring enough, he didn't want to deal with another problem today.
"Uh, Sir-"
"Make it quick."
The fatui agent yelped in fear. Pantalone folded his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow. "Well?"
"S-someone is having a rampage near the gates! Almost half of the guards have been knocked down! We kept bringing back up but they kept going! What should we do, Sir?" The fatui agent cried out, still trembling. Pantalone just stared in confusion.
"What does that have to do with me?" He asked, still confused about what was going on.
"They came here alongside some merchants. It was a package for you Sir!"
Pantalone thought about what he could have ordered to bring a crazy person along with it. "What was in the package?" "Wine, Sir!"
It began to click in his head. "Ah, the wine I had ordered from Mondsadt. " It was just some wine he had ordered for himself. It wasn't a big order so he just couldn't understand why such a huge problem occurred because of it. "What should we do sir?" The agent asked once again, still shaking in fear.
Pantalone looked at the agent before sighing once again. "Lead the way."
---
Pantalone looked in awe at the scene. Cicin mages, fatui agents and even the skirmishers laid on the snow covered floor groaning in pain. Blood trailed amongst them but they looked well enough to survive. Wails and sounds of clashing could be heard near by. The fatui agent that brought him here stood behind him, unable to move forward at this point
Curiously, Pantalone made his way towards the sound. He walked past and over the bodies on the ground in a quicken paced. Something exciting was happening for once and he was going to be able to witness it.
You don't remember how long you had been fighting at this point. However the stars were now visible and the scent of blood was prominent at this point. You could feel your vision begin to blur but you didn't care. Years of rage had lead up to this point and you finally could let it all out.
You heard footsteps and immediately turned your head towards where it was coming from. You picked up your spear and pointed at the person who popped out from the side. For the first time you faced an actual face instead of a fatui mask. A familiar face in fact.
His hair was long but it no longer stayed ragged. A pair of vintage glasses accompanied his face but they were no longer crooked or had broken lenses. Instead of the rags you remembered, he wore an outfit probably worth more than anything you had owned at this point. All you could stare before blurting out " I know you."
Pantalone could have said the same to you. You were still that feisty kid he remembered back when he was young. Always angry and ready to pick a fight. He could see the flames in your eyes and the way you gripped the spear ready to strike at him. You looked just the same to him as you did before. " You haven't changed at all it seems."
You scoffed. "You certainly did. What was your name again?" Pantalone sighed in relief. He gave you a sly smile and you could feel yourself go back into fight mode instantly. " The people here call me The Regrator." You glared at him while he raised his hands, pretending to be innocent " But i prefer Pantalone now. It's a nice surprise to see you again after all these years."
"I can't say the same to you. I did not have the most inviting welcome when I got here." You barked back at him. Pantalone looked down at the ground at the unconscious fatui soldiers. "My bad." He smiled. "Let me invite you in and give you a proper welcome."
---
Snezhnaya had changed. You couldn't tell whether the air was colder or whether the amount of fatui agents were just too abundant, but it felt more unwelcome than the last time you had been here. You could feel it in your skin. There was no love here.
Pantalone had invited you back to his abode, a building big enough to hold the entirety of your village back in the day. One room in his house was same size as the house you lived in back in Fontaine. You could only stare in awe, your head turning and looking at all the decorations and the beautiful architecture of the place. Snezhnaya was empty but the structures had never been this stunning.
Pantalone sat across you, staring at you while your eyes wandered around the room. You had not changed at all. He wondered what had happened ever since you had left Snezhnaya. It was your wish to get out of here, so why were you back sitting across him? He had so many questions to ask, however at this point he didn't know where to start. He called in a maid, who began to pour in tea and set an entry of food in front of you both.
"I would have offered some wine but it seemed my package was delayed. " He smiled at you while you turned to look and glare at him. "Maybe if your underlings learnt how to keep their hands to themselves and not touch the merchants then maybe your wine would have come on time." You retort back, Pantalone just looked back at you in excitement. Something was sparking in his eyes, he could feel something fun was going to happen if you stayed.
He continued to stare watching you gawk at the food. You reached for the little sandwiches with one hand and for the cup of tea with the other. You ate as if this was your last meal, who knew when you would get such good food again. "Were you always that good at fighting?" Pantalone asked. He watched as you stiffened, almost spilling the cup of tea but you kept your grip steady.
You coughed, the sandwich feeling a bit stuck in your throat by the sudden question. "My fighting has been the same as always. I was just able to last a lot longer." You finally looked at Pantalone directly, he was leaning towards to face you. His head in his hands watching you earnestly. You could feel a blush rise to your cheeks realizing he was watching you stuff your cheeks as if you were never fed in your entire life.
'Exciting.' He thought. Snezhnaya was cold and empty. Other than the Tsaritsa's vision slowly coming to fruition not much was happening around these desolate fields of snow and ice. Every day felt like a chore and Pantalone wanted something exciting.
"What if I offered you a job?" You squinted at him, as he continued to give you the same off smile since the very beginning. " I do not want to work under the Tsarista. Besides, what do I have to offer?" Pantalone straightened up, frowning at your refusal. "You just took down half of my agents. Why would I not offer one to you. Besides," he picked up his cup of tea to take a sip " You won't be working under the Tsarista's. You will be working for me."
You stared dumbfounded as he sipped his tea. Everything was going too fast. Your sister had passed away only a couple of months ago. Your parents have ran away with all your money only a day ago. You were almost beaten to death by a group of Fatui and now their boss who turned out to be someone you knew back in the day is offering a job to you.
You remembered the magazine, the stars. They promised big things. All of these were big and now you wondered, is this the offer I shouldn't turn down. You looked at the room you sat in. The ceiling was high, a chandelier in the middle. Everything in this room was worth more than anything you had earned your entire life. The man who owned this room was now offering you a job.
You still wanted to say fuck the stars but only an idiot would turn is offer down. "What will I have to do?" Pantalone looked at you, his smile feeling genuine for once. "You'll be my right hand. Basically a body guard, keep me company." You stared at him and back at the room, to the food on the table and the teacup in your hand. "I'm in."
He set the teacup down, extending his hand towards you. You set yours down and followed suit. Shaking his hand you heard him say. "I can't wait to start working with you, partner."
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lilcindy · 9 months
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Yandere Tolys Laurinaitis
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Warning: obsessive behaviors, Poland is mentioned, mentions of wars, mentions of Word War II, historical events
Disclaimer: This can be cringe-worthy since this is the personification of a country, reduced to some anime trope, what I am indulging in can be harmful. Also, I go after comic events in the manga, not historical
━ A healthy relationship consists of two healthy individuals who acknowledge and accept responsibility for themselves, and Lithuania is a magnet for toxic ones.
━ His victim must be a nation, It takes a lot of time for Tolys to get used to someone, he's even willing to ignore the people who actually respect and appreciate him ( Estonia & Latvia) for his longer relationships.
━ Tries to be helpful to everyone, especially to his victim. Like helping them with legal issues, and giving them food and protection, If Lithuanian is not the official language of the Nation! darling, if we can say that, he will translate his most famous books, into their official language(s), which will be in vain since he never asked your permission in the first place. It doesn't matter, he LOVES helping/working for you.
━ As a yandere, Lithuania feels pretty threatened by his victim's independence, mainly due to a lack of security within himself, but doesn't really do anything about it. Finds it embarrassing to feel that way and he hates embarrassing stuff! ( attempts to restrict your choices many times)
━ He always overthinks his relationships with his obsession.
━ He is genuinely a kind person, unlike the average Yandere, he wouldn't wish to harm his love rivals. 
━ Too infatuated with his obsession that he can't see their flaws.
Before the partitions of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth:  
━ He used to control Middle and Eastern Europe during the Middle Ages. He's a great leader and will always give you his best strategies. Since you're a Nation, he's not that overprotective despite being a Yandere but if you clearly are in danger, he won't hesitate to cut some throats.
 ━ It says that 'he used to be awesome before but he hasn't been blessed by his bosses'. I think Lithuania is willing to joke around, however, I don't think he will actively seek a romantic relationship with them. 
━ Why? He's born in the middle of a war, and as I said, he always overthinks his relationships with you, It may sound awful, but if you're not Poland, he will often hyperventilate when he puts scenarios in mind, where you and he had to war with each other.
━  Poland often calls him out for his obsession, calling it creepy, and weird as hell. Though,
After the partitions of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth:  
━  The time when he was taken by Russia, well...he gets less time to be with you since Mother Russia overworks him to the point of exhaustion, Don't worry, he is Russia's favorite!
━  That is why Russia overworks him to the point of exhaustion. If You had bad blood with Russia in the past or currently, he will ask, in a forceful way, Lithuania to stop his yandere tenancies, after all, he is his property. ♡
━ If not, he still doesn't have time for you...he always sheers a tear while thinking about you. Lithuania will ask Poland for his news about you while drowning in alcohol. 
 ━ If you are also Russia's subordinate. He will always be concerned for you, like extremely, literally handed three handmade documents that tell how to please the Great Fearful Russia with being bullied.
━ While hesitated to cut some throats, since over time he developed a weak stomach, and couldn't handle the gore too much. 
Modern Days:
━ Now that Mother Russia is gone.  
━ If he was asked oh-so-aggressively by Russia to stop his obsession, he would immediately rush to your house, clean it, and cook for you, as I said before he loves working for you.
━ If you guys are both subordinates of Ivan, he will boldly ask you to get rid of stuff that reminds you of him. He will NOT insist if you rightly so refuse.
━ He has a better relationship with Poland, and this one doesn't approve of this relationship and constantly reminds Liet that his obsession isn't normal.
━ He will never let go of his unhealthy crush.
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svartikotturinn · 7 months
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I couldn’t stand to watch Shaun’s latest video, so I started reading the transcript instead. I got about 15 minutes in before I just had enough.
The good: I don’t think he’s legitimately antisemitic. I think he’s just a contrarian dipshit who took his anti-Israeli stance mostly because he had an excuse to go against what his government was saying (along with other Western governments) and didn’t bother to look deeper. So he is a lot of things but antisemitic does not seem to be one of them.
Also, I should commend him for pointing out actual cases of Israeli disinformation, such as an outright lie by the IDF spokesman, and brings up the violence towards mourners and even pallbearers at Shireen Abu Akleh’s funeral, which he rightfully condems (no, chanting slogans does not justify it).
The bad: The sheer one-sided laziness, up to and including outright lies (which, I hope, for his sake, were based in ignorance and not malice), starting right at the beginning. He says what got him doubting the narrative of ‘Israel good, Palestinians bad’ was a photo of Israelis sitting on chairs they’d brought watching the Gaza Strip being bombed from a safe distance in 2014—he neglects to mention that those are people from nearby Sderot, a town that had been subject to repeated rocket strikes from Hamas. He offhandedly mentions that the other side does it, too, but barely gives this thought much weight. Worse, he certainly does not consider that Israelis can at least claim that they’re cheering for the death of mlitants out for their blood hiding in the destroyed buildings, while Palestinians cheer for the deliberate killing of civilians: stabbing and shooting random civilians, launching rockets indiscriminately at civilians (no, Israel doesn’t do that, that’s what intel and GPS systems are for).
(Pro-tip: check out what your favourite pro-Palestinian influencer’s page for what they said while the October 7th Massacre was still ongoing. I bet you’ll be horrified. Shaun himself, for example, retweeted an infographic about the asymmetry of casualties in both sides over the years and blocked me when I called him out on his callous ‘well, numerically…’ attitude. That was last October, not 2014.)
Then there’s Abu Akleh’s death, which he also discusses. I’m using this term charitably, because he says it was definitively proven as murder and says any claim to the contrary has been proven to be a mendacious cover-up. No, he does not provide any sources countering, say, the official US position. (For the record: fuck then-Prime Minister Yair Lapid’s reaction. He is a prime example of the problems Israel actually has.)
Then he had the sheer audacity to claim that the claims of tunnels under As-Shifā’ Hospital were unfounded. What fucking nerve.
I was hoping to reach the point where he talks about how Hamas treats the Gazans, and point out that the disparity of casualties has to do in large part with the fact that Israel actually cares for its civilians (something he didn’t even hint at up to where I got), but that bold-faced lie about the hospital made it too much for me.
Fuck you, Shaun.
…Oh, and one last thing: he talked about the Western position being one of resistence to the implied barbarism of Islam. So, Shaun, I’m here to say it’s not fucking ‘implied’, you dolt, it’s emphatic. Read the fucking Qur’ān and tell me that shit doesn’t sound like any other cult leader’s insane ramblings. Listen to opinions Muslims express in polls. Talk to them about history, especially the history of the region. It’s cultish shit on par with MAGA/QAnon and Russian propaganda, but you start hemming and hawing when brown people say it, like a stereotypical Westerner who dismisses their country’s superstitions but gladly adopts those that come from China or India. How utterly disguting.
EDIT: I should’ve stopped listening to this prick back when he made his inaccuracies-ridden video about Harry Potter. I guess maybe in his view, there are indeed good and bad sides rather than actions…
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fantasyinvader · 11 months
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I just keep thinking. Look at what Ferdinand says after Edelgard is defeated.
Ferdinand: The history of the Empire spans 1185 years. And just like that, it ends. But the Hresvelg legacy could live on... When Edelgard assumed power, there were no other rightful heirs. She said that whoever takes the throne next should do so by virtue of merit, not blood. And she truly meant what she said.
Following the defeat of TWSITD, he talks about how Byleth should be leader in Fodlan. The game really wants to push that by defeating Edelgard without the support of a country's army, Byleth has proven themself worthy of the throne. Byleth's flag is supposed to represent, according to the devs, the faith your units put in them. Faith enough to abandon their countries in this war just because of a promise made.
Meanwhile, look what happens when you side with Edelgard. For all her talk about merit, she's just going to take the credit for Byleth's leadership, and then hands the army off to Caspar who according to the Japanese can't keep them under control. Despite saying she's only after the Church and their allies, she starts the route by invading a country that declared neutrality, intent to dispose of any leaders there who won't bend the knee and makes it clear killing Claude is her preferred option. And she does this because she promised Caspapa control of the former alliance in exchange for his support, while at the same time willing to create a comfy job in order to entice Linhardt. Her support with Ferdinand makes it clear she hasn't thought about how to even the playing field between nobles and commoners, which gets worse in the Japanese as she spent two years reforming the Empire only to coddle the nobility and oppress the masses. Hubert goes behind her back to kill people he views as a threat to her even if ordered to spare them, and his endings involve supporting her through secret police spying on the people and putting down rebellions. She makes it very clear she's going to continue working with Thales until things calm down after the war, but she also uses pilfered Agarthan tech to maintain order. She has no interest in exposing the truth, instead ignoring it when it's not supporting her narrative and even spreads lies to make herself look good. Hubert even says that she knows that TWSITD were behind the experiments and made her father their puppet, making Edelgard's history and reasoning suspect. Hanneman even reveals the Imperial Army is still using Crest beasts, meaning people are being experimented on despite her claims about wanting that to never happen again.
Edelgard is supposed to be tyrannical, especially when compared to Dimitri per the devs. Dimitri gives the commoners a voice in politics and works to support them, Edelgard centralizes power on herself and believes relying on others makes one weak (though people helping her is alright). She and Claude both want change in Fodlan, but Claude puts aside his prejudices and as a result learns the true history. Edelgard does not and instead continues to work with those who engineered this war. But against Byleth, Safflower comes across as it's meant to discredit Edelgard. To show that she doesn't have merit as a leader, that she remains an immature womanchild lashing out at the world because of what happened to her and expectations of her shouldering responsibilities.
The game opens with a lot of mysteries and red herrings, making it look like the Church is to blame for the ills of Fodlan. I think that's part of what has fed this discourse. The game tells us things are bad. Claude might be a radical at first, but as he opens his mind and reaches out his hand he starts to see a different picture and changes his tune, instead returning home to reform Almyra. Dimitri does oppose the Church and gets labelled as the status quo lord as a result, but that ignores the changes he does make and the support he gives the people. He's the one who actually gives them power. Byleth is the player avatar but their own decisions get thrown out when they don't align with the player's wants. But then you get Edelgard, the radical who wants to change things, and is ultimately shown as wrong, hypocritical, manipulative and just no good. So much so that her supports have to rewrite her character and the story in order to make her more palatable. Easier to swallow rather that accepting what they unknowingly supported, and even then saying some things that make people go “did you really just say that?”
Edelgard is not the answer, her route has no real merit.
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nova-alien-rants · 11 months
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i haven't seen antisemitism being talked about outside of jewish spaces and that scares me.
DISCLAIMER: i DON'T support everything the israeli government has been doing. people have a right to be pissed at them for what's going on, and they have a right to support the palestinians. i genuinely hope the civilians of gaza and israel both have peace, as well as the world at large. the palestinians do NOT deserve what they have been and are currently going through. i am speaking from the perspective of a jewish ukrainian israeli. if you can't handle political shit don't open this post. and if you choose to, DON'T JUMP DOWN MY THROAT FOR BEING INSENSITIVE! TALK TO ME ABOUT IT! PLEASE EDUCATE ME SO I CAN DO BETTER!
ever since this shit with israel started, antisemitism has increased by like 500%. and that's based on the last time i dared look up the statistics.
something i learned from a very young age is you can never expect ANYONE to care about the jewish people. we can HOPE non-jews will care, but we'd be fools for EXPECTING them to. so many people wonder how the holocaust happened, and this is how. everyone either just turns a blind eye since they don't care due to this not directly affecting them, or they just stay silent due to fear of being politically incorrect and getting dogpiled for it.
and why is it that supporting the jewish people is politically incorrect in the first place? because we view israel as our homeland, as the holiest place on earth, as the country we have the deepest connection to? are we really villains simply for having certain religious beliefs?
what hamas has done and continues to do is NOT justified and NEVER will be justified. i can't tell what's worse: having 2000 people in your country murdered, raped, tortured, and/or kidnapped completely out of nowhere, or having half the world support those who did it.
hamas doesn't care about anyone. they don't even care about their own people. they don't give a shit about any their lives.
if hamas was truly a resistance movement, why is it that they take the money meant for gazan humanitarian aid and instead use it for their weapons, making sure no civilians see a single dime? why is it that hamas disperse their personnel and have bases amongst civilian infrastructure so the only way for israel to take them out is by killing gazan civilians with them? why is it that they brainwash their OWN PEOPLE into believing hamas has their best interests at heart just to backstab them?
there are 10 cables running into gaza from israel supplying the gazans with electricity. when hamas destroyed the barrier between the two, they took out nine of the ten cables, and then blamed it on israel. THEN they demanded israel gave them aid after taking hundreds of israeli hostages? what country gives aid to their enemy? especially after said enemy is still holding hostages from them?
if hamas genuinely wanted justice for the palestinians, why did they not try and have normal relations with other political leaders, especially those in israel? why did they not at the very least organize peaceful protests? why did they decide to permanently destroy the lives of countless innocent israelis?
the fact that so many people support the actions of hamas is insane to me, and the fact that those supporters have become emboldened by that cold-blooded display of violence to commit their own acts against the jews is incredibly telling. this goes WAY beyond hating the israeli government. they hate the jews. they want us dead.
they try to say they don't hate jews, just the zionists. but almost every single jew IS A ZIONIST. so ultimately guess what? they hate the jews. it's like someone saying "i'm not homophobic, i just hate people who have gay sex." and i feel like people don't even understand that the definition of zionism is NOT that israel should not have any palestinians living there. it's simply the belief that israel is the jewish homeland. who ever said we can't or don't want to share with anyone else?
and beyond hating just jews, people hate all israelis at large. they hate the russians because they happen to have putin in charge, they hate the chinese because covid happened to come from wuhan, and they hate israelis because of the israeli government they have no power over. this SCARES me as a jewish israeli. how am i, a regular civilian, personally responsible for something a country's government is doing?
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this has been happening CONSTANTLY ever since october 7th.
before this shitshow happened, antisemitism was still a rampant thing because that's just how the world is. it isn't a new concept. but the fact that people are now being so vocal about it, so violent and in your face about it, is HORRIFYING.
i have felt so unsafe on my university campus because of this. i've been chased, followed, screamed at, called slurs, threatened, and pelted with various objects. i live in the very obviously jewish dorm on the most bustling part of campus, and i'm TERRIFIED for anyone to see me entering or exiting the building now. i've already had to skip classes multiple times because i feared for my physical safety.
they're having pro-palestinian rallies literally every other day now, right next to my dorm and directly across the street from where the bus stop is. and if they want to support the palestinians, that's fine, but so many of these protesters are extremely violent and aggressive, especially toward jewish passersby. it's very telling.
and jews are afraid to speak up. we're a minority. we're such a tiny percentage of the world and we're already very aware of how widely hated we are despite our minority status. most of us are too scared to rock the boat.
some jewish celebrities have come forward expressing their support for israel (not insulting or coming after anyone, literally just standing with israel because they're JEWISH), and the backlash they've gotten is BEYOND insane to me.
this isn't just a matter of justice for the palestinians. this is a very old, deep, complex issue which has existed for THOUSANDS of years. it's an issue between the jews and muslims. seeing americans who don't have any affiliation to the conflict saying all sorts of shit about it makes my blood boil; none of you will ever understand the full context. keep your mouths shut. stick to american politics. y'all already cause enough issues about that shit anyway.
i'm scared there will be another holocaust, and it's not happening in germany this time.
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elliepassmore · 2 years
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The Ones We Burn review
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4/5 stars Recommended if you like: magic, fantasy, witches, healing stories, enemies to lovers, Twin Crowns I don't really think it's possible to write a review of this book without addressing the 'reverse racist fantasy' and antisemitic claims. The two reviews I link below go into detail breaking them down and I recommend looking at those if you're interested: Review 1 Review 2 I liked the plague plotline in the story. It makes the book less about the witch-human conflict and overthrowing the throne and more about medicine and saving lives and realizing who your family is. I liked the bits where Ranka and co. go into the city to try and figure out what's going on. I like the parts where they discuss different strategies for fighting the disease and try to figure out how it's spreading. I wish we'd gotten a bit more details about that, even if the plague is vaguely zombie-like. I also thought the plotline with the Hands of Solomei was interesting. It's one of those things where you want to scream that they've got it wrong, but of course they can't hear you and of course some of their complaints are legitimate, it's just been twisted in the wrong hands (pun intended, lol). I definitely thought it was an interesting look at how people's genuine concerns and criticisms can so easily be turned into something nasty and even violent when a charismatic leader decides to make that their calling. I liked that it showed a splintering of the group as well, with some people taking a decidedly less radical approach than others, especially since I think that reflects real life. There's also a lot of complicated morality to go around. The witches are upset because the treaty said they could have Witchik but the land is being encroached upon and the witches hunted and starved out. That's a good reason to be upset. The humans in the borderlands are upset because the witches are stealing from them and sometimes there are skirmishes that result in people being killed. Also a good reason to be upset. The people in other areas of the country are also facing a failing crop yield and poverty because the teenage king is undertrained in his magic and can't bring much-needed rain, meaning they are both starving, poor, and overtaxed. Another very good reason to be upset. But just because everyone has a good reason for being upset doesn't mean they have good responses to it. That is how things end up so messy and the witches end up so angry at the royals and other humans, and vice versa (though the royals aren't actually upset at the witches, it turns out). This whole situation also explains why the Hands of Solomei become such a big movement and are able to wreak so much havoc. It's complicated, but I like the layers to it. That being said, this book definitely feels very similar to Twin Crowns to me. Both involve an MC who is a witch, in a country where witches are hunted, infiltrating the aristocracy with the goal of overthrowing the current power structure to instead favor the witches. Likewise, both books have a vaguely-grandmother figure who is abusive, the MC realizing it, and then attempting to stop what's coming a bit too late. Oh, and there's a ball that the witches end up attending. There are some differences, with the magic and the fact that the twins in Twin Crowns are the MCs and the twins in this book aren't, plus the disease that's happening in this book. Ranka is the main character of the story and is a blood witch. Her main interest is in living a quiet life, but she's fiercely loyal, and so when her friend/adoptive sister goes missing, presumably taken by humans as a stand-in for Ranka, Ranka decides to take up the title of Bloodwinn and go to the palace, saving her friend, and bringing down the monarchy in the process. Things aren't what they seem though, and Ranka quickly learns that everything she's been taught about the royal siblings seem to be false and, in fact, they're actively working to try and help witches. She not only battles with her own beliefs about her magic, but also with the beliefs she's been taught about herself, the world, and her family. A big part of the book is about deciding who your family is and another big part is about the mistakes you make and how you can correct them. Aramis is the princess and is immediately suspicious of Ranka. The two grow a tentative alliance about the plague though, and we get to see more of Aramis' soft side. She's immersed herself in books and science, but she's also got the mind of a political leader. She was raised to be queen, but the succession shifted after it was revealed she doesn't have magic and so her brother will be king. Aramis actually seems to be okay with this and is mostly interested in making sure her brother is safe and in protecting him from the things that would break his heart. Aramis is another character who puts loyalty pretty high up in terms of values, which is something she and Ranka can agree upon once they start getting along. The relationship between Ranka and Aramis is definitely slow. Neither trusts the other, but as they spend more time together, first training Ranka on her magic, then trying to figure out the solution to the plague, they slowly being to trust, then like one another. They have their ups and their downs, and there are definitely times when it seems like they won't make it, but they're both stubborn, and as mentioned above, loyal, so it's hard for them to stay apart for too long once they've decided to be loyal to each other. Galen is also a pretty soft character, just in a different way than Aramis. Where Aramis is sharp words and quick wit, Galen is more gentle spoken and inclined toward heartbreak. He genuinely wants to do what's best for everyone and struggles with the fact that he isn't as magically powerful as his father. Unfortunately, due to his softness, characters tend to try and coddle him, which more than once ends up making things worse rather than better. But Galen proves to be someone who is both soft and powerful, and frankly he is one of the few characters who consistently makes good decisions throughout the book. Percy is the last MC (or MC-like) character. He's from an island nation and is the ambassador (or something) to the country Aramis and Galen run. Like Aramis, he relies a lot on his intellect and wits, but like Ranka he can fight well and has made some pretty major mistakes in his life. Percy definitely provides the comic relief in the story, and he's frequently quipping about one thing or another. I actually love the dynamic between Percy and Ranka because he's such a good foil to Ranka and understands both where she's coming from and the place she'll end up if she follows through. Despite knowing what's likely going down, he lets Ranka figure things out for herself, though he does try and subtly let her know that things will turn out poorly if she does what the Skra want her to do. Percy is also pretty quick to forgive Ranka when she messes up because he's been in the same situation. Overall, I enjoyed this book and thought the plot was interesting. There's a lot of complicated morality in the book, which I always like, and I enjoyed how each group played against each other as well as how each of the characters handled it in different ways.
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frogchiro · 2 years
Note
Pierro be worshipping at his wife feet when they’re alone. Doing all cute couple stuffs and some spicy rough bedtime. If he’s a yandere all of this would be x10 which is just 😚.
Warnings : yandere theme, hints of blood and gore, hints of past noncon/dubcon, feeding kink.
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“My dear, can’t use your wrists? It seems I went to hard on you last night. No need to try feeding for yourself, don’t want it to be worse right?” He picked up your spoon which is not even full and re-scoop the stew again and again till he deems it’s an enough amount for you. But that’s scoop can’t fill a child while mouth.
“It’s still hot, I’d hate to see little you burn your tongue.” He said and blowing smokes from the stew. This time you agreed, the foods he make always hot like ironing your tongue especially when he adds spice.
“There we go, open your mouth.” Knowing it’s better to obey, you complied. It’s absolutely delightful and delicious with a bit of bitter iron taste. But that’s fine, it’s better than his bread soup.
“Let’s finish this bowl of stew, shall we?” This morning will drag till almost noon. You’re sure of it.
omg THIS ur so smart nonnie lemme give you a respectful kith, i've been re reading this since yesterday
warnings: yandere themes, dark content, yandere!pierro, possessive/obsessive behavior, mentions of violence/gore (not against reader), dependency, reader is a bit of a ditz, slight infantilisation, implied large age gap but reader is explicitly stated to be an adult!, fem!reader, 17+content, also possible spoilers for pierro's past
OKAY SO, imagine yandere pierro who indeed would worship his little wife, literally worship the ground she walks on, everything you'd ever think of, every little desire will be yours and he'll make sure of it but unfortunately everything comes at a price, a high price
pierro is the definition of the perfect leader, he has all the needed qualities; he's firm and excludes this dominant aura that commands respect wherever he goes, he's cunning and resolute, always knows what to say, when to say and how to say it, and although he's not much of a talker he excludes a type of charisma that draws everyone to him, you saw numerous times how he wields ultimate power and you knew from the first day that the lord harbinger, the jester, wasn't someone you'd wanna have a conflict with
but with all those qualities came also the much darker and apparently not so well hidden desires
pierro is someone who once lost everything, his people, his country and all of that because of arrogance, because there was someone smarter, stronger, wiser than him, because they didn't fucking listen and where did that lead his king and countrymen? to a bloody massacre and a lost kingdom
now he makes sure that you listen to every single word that drips from him mouth, in his mind he doesn't do anything wrong and can you really blame him? he just wants to protect you from all evil, you're the light of his life, the only good thing that's left in this sorry excuse of a world so he has the natural urge to protect
and it really helps him that you're still so naive, so young; sure you're an adult, but compared to him you've seen nothing, you know nothing about the cruelties of the world, the archons who dare to proclaim themselves to be gods
pierro loves it when you cling onto his broad scarred chest while you're both naked in bed as he tells you yet another story of his many glorious victories in battle, of every opponent he ruthlessly slaughtered, the little gasps you let out as the strong arm he has around you slides from your shoulder you the dip of your waist and lets his claws caress the skin there as he grins lightly, sharp canines glinting in the light of the fireplace at the little mewl you let out when he tells you to pay close attention to what he's saying, his hand slipping lower under the thick fur you're under
also he can't let you step out of line right? so he loves to gently remind you, the short albeit sharp talons digging into your delicate little face, that without him you'd still be stuck in that little hovel you called your home, cramped in one tiny house with your dirt-poor family in the shitty little backwater village where he picked you up from on one of his campaigns
he almost feels bad when your beautiful big eyes fill with crystal tears which quickly fall down in thin rivulets down your cheeks as you solemnly nod your head, a tiny 'yes i understand sir' falls from your trembling lips and it's then when his ice-cold heart breaks a little, he hates seeing you cry outside of the tears of pleasure while he's making love to you but this needs to be done, he has to make sure you understand that you're simply not strong enough to survive in the harsh world outside the palace, his tiny lovely wife
so he's quick to wipe off your tears and bring your face, this time gently, closer to his where he lays a chaste but loving kiss on your full lips and delicately touches his forehead to yours before he speaks in a deep hushed voice;
'i know darling, i'm so sorry but you have to understand, you're all i have and i can't loose you to man, beast or god. come with me love, it's late already so let's go to bed so i can properly apologise'
pierro rumbled and when he saw the wide, doe-eyed look in your eyes and the shy little smile that graced your lips he knew he had you right where he wanted to
after all, it's all for the best for you~
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queenshelby · 3 years
Text
The Judge’s Daughter (Part One)
Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader
Words: 8,700
 Warning: Angst, Blood, Gore, Mention of Suicide, Mention of Miscarriage, Drugs, Racism, Smut
Tag List:
@lilymurphy03  @deefigs @theflamecrystal  @chrisevanshoeee  @desperate-and-broken  @weepingstudentfishhorse  @captivatedbycillianmurphy  @fookingshelby  @livinginfantaxy  @rosey1981  @atomicsoulcollecto  @peakyboyslover  @nerdy4itall  @elenavampire21  @hanster1998  @mariapaiva13  @fairypitou  @harry-is-my-sunflower  @zozeebo  @lauren-raines-x
………
 Challenging Times
In early 1930, times were hard. The Wall Street crash in 1929 caused many men to lose their fortune. Your family had also lost money on the stock exchange. A lot of money.
Your father was a wealthy judge and now, he was just a judge. Your family home had to be sold and your father moved into a medium sized apartment in London with one of his maids.
Since your mother had passed away in 1920, your father had often sought comfort in his employees. There was one maid in particular who was of interest to him. Her name was Catherine and she was 10 years your father’s junior.
You accepted his relationship with her but soon felt uncomfortable to live with them in the London Apartment.
But your father wasn’t the only family member who lost his fortune in the stock market crash. Your brother had also lost a lot of money. So much money that he could not repay his gambling debt to one of London’s most notorious criminals.
As a result, your brother committed suicide. His mental health had always been troubled ever since he’s been to France, fighting for England in the First World War. Your brother was much older than you and it was almost a miracle when your mother fell pregnant again and gave birth to you after three miscarriages.
Your brother adored you and protected you whenever necessary. He was kind hearted but, unfortunately, got himself involved with the wrong people on several occasions which is when he began gambling.  
Following your brother’s death, your father struck a deal with the man to whom the gambling debt was owed, releasing three of his gang members from prison.
The debt was forgiven and you inherited your brother’s small cottage north of London.  Regardless of your father’s actions, he began to despise criminals who involved themselves in illegal gambling activities. Your father was known to be particularly harsh when it came to offences of this kind.
He once told you a story about a man who used to be a prominent criminal who made his fortune through race fixing and illegal gambling activities. That man was now a member of parliament and your father despised him.
Being Jewish, your father’s hate for this man increased even more when he became the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists.
The man’s name was Thomas Shelby and you met him once at a gala organised by the socialist party in Westminster. He was a smart man but he was also extremely rude and insulted your father at the gala following a dispute they had earlier in the day.
Your father threatened him and told him that, one day, he will ensure his downfall. It was your father’s mission and it was dangerous.
With that threat in mind and heated political events unfolding around the country, your father asked you to move to the countryside. Take up your brother’s cottage and lay low until things were taking a turn.
It took you quite some time to build up the courage to move into the house where your brother took his own life. But, you eventually did, taking up your brother’s work at the property while attending nursing school every second week.
The cottage was free standing but behind a larger house owned by wealthy Londoners. Their wealth seemed to have been unaffected by the stock market crash and, just as your brother did, you attended their yards and animals on the small farm in exchange for a wage and free food from the produce.
You also spent some time renovating the cottage which was rather dated.
The cottage had two bedrooms, one of which you converted entirely to a studio for your paintings. You enjoyed painting and you were quite good at it.
The other bedroom you redecorated with your own furniture.
The downstairs area consisted out of a small living room with a fire place and a small kitchen and bathroom.
It wasn’t much, but it was a place you could call your own. It was home.
Initially following your move, you would travel to London occasionally to visit your father and his mistress. You wondered when he would finally propose to her. She had been waiting for years.
When you visited, you would often sit in one of his open hearings. You were quite interested in the political and legal situation in the country especially following recent events.  
Notably, it has been six weeks since the assassination attempt on Oswald Mosley, the leader of the British Union of Fascists.
Being Jewish yourself, you, just like your father, despised fascism.
The event at which the assassination attempt occurred was visited by many Jews, protesting against the establishment of the party and their obscure ideas. Despite your father’s instructions not to get involved, you were one of the protestors on the day and, although not openly, you have been associating yourself with the communists.
Your newfound friend Jesse Eden had since led several more protests you attended. Being only 20 years young, you believed that you could make a difference and convince people that their support for fascism was wrong and immoral.
The problem was that your father was at the centre of it all.
Following the assassination attempt on Oswald Mosley, two Jews were arrested and appeared in your father’s court. The prosecution didn’t have enough evidence for a conviction and the men walked free.
No one really knew who was behind the assassination attempt. There were no witnesses and everyone who may have witnessed the attack had since been found dead.
Regardless of this, for some reason, the leaders of the British Union of Fascists seem to have believed that a Jewish man by the name of Alfie Solomons was behind the attack. But there was one little problem, Alfie Solomon was dead. Or wasn’t he?
The men that were arrested used to work for Alfie Solomons and took the fall until your father set them free for lack of evidence.
A week after this decision, a Jewish owned factory was bombed. The factory was owned by the men who were set free by your father and a company owned by a Trust.
Ten men were killed and, following some arrests, it became evident that Jimmy McCavern was behind the attack.
Jimmy McCavern was the leader of the Billy Boys and, over the course of another week, your father was able to make a connection through some documents admitted to evidence between Jimmy McCavern, Alfie Solomons and a man named Thomas Shelby who was the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists.
An arrest warrant was issued against Jimmy McCavern and Thomas Shelby by the London police following your father’s advice to them. Since, apparently, Alfie Solomons was dead, no arrest warrant could be made against him.
Thomas Shelby was the first member of parliament who was subject to such warrant and your father may have just, like this, gotten himself a lot of enemies.
The men he had against him now were not only the Billy Boys but also the Peaky Blinders and it was too dangerous for you to continue to visit him in London.
Unfortunately, little did you know that the danger was about to lurk just in front of your doorstep.
An Unexpected Visit
It was a Wednesday evening at 8pm that you heard a rather loud knock on the front door of your cottage.
You didn’t expect anyone and approached the door with your loaded gun. It’s not that you had ever shot a gun, but you bought yourself one two days ago just in case you needed it.
‘Who is it?’ you asked from behind the closed door.
‘It’s Jesse Eden’ you’ve heard from behind the door and you immediately recognised Jesse’s voice.
You put the gun aside and unlocked the door.
To your surprise, Jesse wasn’t alone and your chin dropped as you saw the man standing right in front of you. You remembered him. He was the man who stood beside Oswald Mosley during his speech in Birmingham and you had met him before at a gala at Westminster.
His name was Thomas Shelby.
‘I think we have met before Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.
‘Yes, we have Mr Shelby’ you said nervously and frightened at the same time. You immediately wondered whether Jesse was under duress by him. Why otherwise would he be here with her you wondered.
You invited them both inside after Jesse made the request to come in. She wasn’t sure whether they had been followed.
To your surprise, Jesse soon told you that she required your help. According to her, Thomas Shelby had to lay low due to the arrest warrant issued by the London police.
If Thomas Shelby was to be arrested, he may be killed in prison before a hearing could be conducted.
Accordingly, Jesse asked you to hide him at your house until the charges against him are dropped.
‘You mean until the chief of police has been bribed enough to drop the charges?’ you chuckled in response to her request.
‘I wish it would be that easy Love’ Tommy said as he looked at the pictures on your living room wall. His hands were in his pockets and he almost looked unbothered by the situation.
‘You cannot be serious Jesse. You seriously want me to hide this man at my house?’ you said in disbelieve.  
‘I am afraid I am serious Y/N’ Jesse responded.
‘Well, a fascist hiding at the house of a Jew, how ironic’ you said angrily, still unsure why Jesse was helping him.
‘I know we have gotten off on the wrong foot at the Westminster gala Miss Rosenberg, but I would greatly appreciate your help’ Tommy said, recalling his argument with your father in your presence in late 1929.
‘You think Mr Shelby?’ you chuckled. ‘You insulted my father and my entire family’ you said.
‘And for that, I apologise’ Tommy said politely but firmly.
‘Jesse, you need to explain to me why you are helping this man. I do not understand it’ you said.
‘I cannot give you more information Y/N. You just need to trust me on this, alright?’ Jesse asked almost fearfully.
‘Alright, but why me?’ you pondered.
‘Because you are the daughter of the judge hearing this matter. No one will think to look for me here, at your house’ Tommy explained.
‘Jesus’ was all you could respond with to Tommy’s comment.
‘Y/N, trust me, please. It’s for the cause’ Jesse said.
‘I find this hard to believe, but alright, he can stay’ you responded.
Not long after you agreed to house the deputy leader of the British Union of Fascists, Thomas Shelby, Jesse made her way back to Birmingham. It was a three-hour drive and she had to hurry before anyone became suspicious.
‘You will have to sleep on the lounge. Please help yourself to any food, water and drinks’ you said while you walked into another room to fetch a blanket, pillow and change of clothes for Tommy.
You still held on to your brother’s clothes which should have fitted Thomas just fine.
‘I thank you for your hospitality Miss Rosenberg and I apologise for intruding your space. I should be out of your hair within the week’ Tommy said as you came back to the living room and handed him everything he needed for his stay.
‘I am doing this for Jesse, not for you Mr Shelby. Although I do not quite understand why she is helping you’ you said just before you sat down in one of the arm chairs.
‘Let’s just say, we had a thing once, eh’ Tommy smirked.
‘I didn’t think that she would fall for a man like you’ you said.
‘A man like me, eh?’ Tommy chuckled.
‘Yes, a socialist turning to fascism. It’s rather disappointing’ you said.
‘Sometimes we do what we have to do Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.
‘Yes, if we didn’t, you wouldn’t be staying here, trust me’ you said before excusing yourself.
You made your way to your studio, painting and drinking wine. It was what you enjoyed most and you wanted to space from the stranger now living with you in the small cottage. A man you had literally nothing in common with and who you despised.
While you were painting, Tommy made use of your telephone and enjoyed some of your late brother’s whiskey.
It was obvious to you that he was struggling with being cooped up in your cottage and, just as your thoughts got lost in your paintings, you heard some a cracking noise near the door of your studio.
‘What are you doing?’ you asked as you noticed Tommy walking into your studio, looking through your many paintings.
‘You are talented. These paintings are extraordinary’ Tommy said.
‘Thank you, Mr Shelby’ you said with surprise. Had he really just complimented you?
His presence and closeness sent shivers down your spine. It wasn’t that you were frightened but you were clearly intimidated.
‘What are your plans, Miss Rosenberg?’ Tommy asked as he kept looking through the paintings.
‘My plans?’ you asked.
‘Your plans for the future? What are they?’ Tommy asked.
‘I am studying to become a nurse. Perhaps, one day get married and have children. The usual’ you said shyly.
‘Well, let me tell you, marriage is overrated’ Tommy chuckled before he asked how old you were.
‘I am 20’ you responded.
‘Still young with a life of opportunities ahead of you. Don’t waste them on the cause’ Tommy said.
‘Coming from a man who wastes his political career on fascism’ you said, causing Tommy to chuckle.
Your comment instantly sparked a political debate between you and Tommy which soon erupted into a heated argument.
During the argument he told you that you were too young to understand, ignorant and naïve and you were keen to throw him out of your house right then and there.
But, you bit your tongue and reminded yourself of the promise you made to Jesse.
You couldn’t stand him and his arrogance any longer and went to your bedroom, leaving him to debate about politics with himself.
Things Must Change
The next morning, you woke up early to attend the garden, ignoring Tommy as you left the house.
But, it wasn’t long until Tommy joined you in the garden. It was obvious to you that he was clearly bored.
‘What happened to the people who lived at the large house over there?’ Tommy asked as he walked outside to have a cigarette. You didn’t allow him to smoke inside the house.
‘They are in France for their annual vacation. Apparently, their fortune was unaffected by the stock market crash’ you responded.
‘Lucky them eh’ Tommy grinned as he grabbed some of the leather gardening cloves and a bucket from the side of the house.
Wearing his expensive suit and with the bucket in his hand and a cigarette in his mouth he walked over to the berry bushes where you were standing.
‘I might as well make myself useful eh’ he said jokingly as he began picking some berries.
‘Uhm yeah…but these aren’t ripe’ you giggled as you observed Tommy picking off some of the raspberries.
‘Right. Well, I usually don’t garden’ Tommy chuckled.
‘I couldn’t tell’ you laughed, causing Tommy to smile back at you.
This was the first time you noticed him smile. It was a gentle smile and it suited him.
Tommy helped you in the garden for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t like he had something else to do other than make phone calls to his brother and someone by the name of Kent.
You managed to keep your arguments to a minimum and you started to worry that you were slowly beginning to enjoy his company.
Later that evening, following dinner, you even sat down together in front of the fireplace in the living room to drink whiskey and wine and make some conversation.
‘I have been checking on your calls, contacting the directory because I wanted to make sure that I am safe with you being here. I have been told that the last call from my number was made to the Crown Investigations Office’ you said with surprise as you poured Tommy a glass of whiskey. After everything that happened in the past, you still didn’t trust him.
‘That’s correct’ Tommy said.
‘The only reason I could think of as to why you were talking to an officer of the Crown while you have an arrest warrant against you is if you were working for the Crown yourself. Otherwise, you would be mad tipping them’ you said.
‘I was just trading information that might be useful. In exchange, I am hoping for the arrest warrant against me to be dropped’ Tommy explained.
‘Mr Shelby, do you actually believe in fascism? I have not heard you speak about your party’s ideals since you’ve been here. We spoke about politics but you still seem to be a socialist at heart. So tell me, why do you follow this mad man Mosely? I am curious’ you said.
‘The thing about political parties is that they take the course into the direction in which they are steered. Much like a car. But just like with a car, if you fill it with the wrong fuel and the engine breaks down as a result, you will be going nowhere’ Tommy said as he took a drink.
‘And you are the fuel Mr Shelby?’ you asked with curiosity.
‘Yes, I am the fuel Miss Rosenberg’ he said.
‘Your intention is to undermine Mosley on behalf of the Crown. Jesse knew and this is why she helped you, isn’t it?’ you said after pondering on about what Tommy had just told you.
‘And now that you know this as well, it makes you my accomplice. I might be able to use your help Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.  
‘If it helps to end fascism, perhaps I am willing to give it’ you said with a smile. ‘But I am curious now Mr Shelby. Was it you who initiated the attack on Mosley?’ you asked.
‘I rather not answer Miss Rosenberg’ Tommy said.
‘I understand. Also, you can call me Y/N now that we aren’t enemies after all’ you said.
‘Alright Y/N, then I insist that you call me Tommy’ he responded.
After some more conversation you decided that it was time for you to make your way to bed. It was late and you had to get up early to attend the animals.
Nightmares
Falling asleep that night was easy. You felt much safer now despite Tommy’s presence. You knew he wasn’t going to harm you.
But just as easy as you had fallen asleep, you were woken up by a loud noise coming from the living room at 1am.
‘Tommy, are you alright?’ you asked worryingly as you walked downstairs in a haste, wearing nothing but your silk nightgown.
‘My apologies, I didn’t intend to wake you’ Tommy said as he sat on the lounge, covered in sweat.
You initially thought that he might haven gotten sick until you saw a small empty bottle on the living room table. Your brother used to have one just like it which he carried around everywhere. It contained Liquid Opium and helped him sleep. He took it every night until, one day, he stopped. The withdrawal was barely manageable and his addiction soon rebounded.
You knew what this was. You had seen it before.
‘I will make you some tea to help you sleep’ you said kindly as you observed Tommy’s struggles.
‘I don’t think that tea will help me sleep Love’ Tommy chuckled.
‘My brother used to have nightmares after France. When he returned home, my mother made this for him and he managed to get at least some sleep. It’s worth a try’ you said with a warm smile. You knew Tommy had been to France. You had spoken about it when you spoke about your brother earlier that evening.  
‘I suppose why not, eh’ Tommy said as he walked to the bathroom to clean himself off with a cold wet flannel.
After you put on the kettle, you walked to the studio and grabbed some more of your brother’s clothes.
‘These should fit you’ you said shyly as you handed Tommy a clean plain shirt and pants.
‘Thank you, Y/N’ he said as he took the clothes.
This was the first time you saw Tommy without a shirt and, despite his level of exhaustion, it was quite a sight. He certainly was a very attractive man.
After Tommy had gotten himself changed, you sat down next to him and handed him the cup of tea.
‘Do you want to talk?’ you asked.
‘It’s the middle of the night Y/N, you should get some sleep’ Tommy said.
‘It’s alright. I am not tired’ you said with a warm smile.
That night Tommy spoke with you about everything. About France and his late wife Grace who visited him in his dreams. He didn’t know why, but he felt as though he could talk to you and trust you.
At 4am, you eventually fell asleep on the lounge next to Tommy which is where you woke up the next morning covered with a warm blanket.
The fire was lid and there was a note on the coffee table as you woke.
‘Borrowed your hunting rifle, will be back by 8’ the note said.
You didn’t know how to hunt and had been telling Tommy how your brother shot bucks whenever you came to visit him at the cottage from London. You would then prepare it with veggies from the garden just the way your mother had shown you.
You thought that, perhaps, Tommy was better equipped than you when it came to hunting. You struggled enough even just to slaughter a chook from the farm and your intake of meat was clearly lacking as a result.
Attacked
With Tommy gone, you decided to attend to the horses. Grabbing your shovel and rake, you walked into the stables.
But, just as you walked inside, you could hear a loud noise from behind the barn.
You wondered whether it was Tommy and approached the back area of the property carefully. After all, he had a loaded gun and you certainly didn’t want to get shot accidently.
Just as you walked to the side of the property, you saw a strange man.
‘Hello Love’ the man said, cocking his gun.
‘Who are you and what do you want?’ you asked holding on to your rake tightly.
‘We’ve got a dispute to settle with some Jews Love. Now be a good girl and put down this rake would you’ the man said firmly.
You obliged and the man approached you slowly.
‘Now Love, we will be having a good time and then we will visit your father’ the man said just before he called for another man who was at the back of the barn.
Within an instant, the man grabbed your wrists and pushed you against the outer wall of the barn.
‘Such are pretty thing aren’t you’ the man said as he aimed to cover your mouth while moving away your skirt.
But, just when the man’s hand reached your mouth, you bit him firmly just before yelling for help.
‘You fucking bitch’ the man said as he reached for his gun.
In this moment, you heard a shot. The other man was hit, but barely and went to check out where the shot came from.
With both men distracted, you ceased the moment and pulled out the gardening scissors you were carrying in your thin jacket. Within an instant and without thinking, you rammed the scissor into the neck of the man who was still standing right there in front of you.
This was all it took for the man to fall to the ground. You couldn’t help it but scream as your hands and blouse were covered in the man’s blood.
You were besides yourself, sitting on the ground next to his dying body in shock, unable to do anything.
After what felt like an eternity, you saw Tommy approach you, making his way through the veggie patch carrying your hunting rifle and covered in blood himself.
‘Are you alright Y/N?’ he asked as he kneeled down next to you, comforting you.
‘There is another man Tommy, he walked to towards the berry field’ you said.
‘I know. He’s dead now and so is the third man who was driving them here’ Tommy said.
‘Did you kill them?’ you asked.
‘Yes, I did’ he said and, just in that moment, you threw his arms around him.
This is when you realised that he had been injured and was in agony himself.
‘Tommy, you’ve been shot’ you said with worry as you saw blood staining through his white shirt.
‘Yes’ was all he managed to say at this point as he was losing blood.
‘We will get you to a hospital’ you said in a haste.
‘No hospital Y/N. I will be taken into custody if I set foot in a public place like this until the arrest warrant has been dropped’ Tommy said.
You could see the agony on his face as he held onto the side of his chest. He was in pain. A lot of pain.
‘You are nurse, aren’t you?’ Tommy asked, breathing heavily.
‘I am a student nurse Tommy. I have not practiced on a life person’ you said worryingly.
‘Well, it’s about time then eh’ Tommy chuckled.
‘Tommy, you can’t be serious’ you said.
‘I am serious Y/N. I need you to do this, please’ Tommy said.
‘Alright, common’ you said nervously. It wasn’t like you had a choice. Tommy was bleeding a lot and his wound needed attention immediately.
With haste, you walked inside with Tommy and placed a towel over the lounge and got your first aid kit as well as a bottle of vodka from the dining room.  You then went to the bathroom quickly to get a bowl of clean water and more towels.  
While you were getting everything ready, Tommy made a phone call to his brother Arthur, giving him your address. By that point, Tommy was barely able to stand up.
As you returned from the kitchen, you helped Tommy to remove his blood-soaked clothes.
You gasped for a moment. You weren’t sure whether the blood or the sight of his naked body took away your breath.
‘You’ve got whiskey?’ Tommy asked.
‘Tommy, I don’t think it matters which alcohol I use to clean out your wound’ you said as you got everything ready on the table.
‘To drink. Trust me, I’ll need it. I am out of Opium’ he said, his breathing still laboured.
‘Yes, of course’ you said before you poured him a large glass of whiskey and handed it to him.
He drank all of it in an instant before lying down.
‘This is going to hurt’ you said as you cleaned your hands and the tweezers from your first aid kit with some of the vodka.
‘I know’ he said, taking in a deep breath.
‘You have to stay still’ you went on as you reached for his wound which was still profusely pouring blood.
‘I know’ he said again before closing his eyes and holding on to the edge of the lounge in anticipation.
As soon as you entered the wounds with your fingers and the tweezers, all that you could hear was a loud grunt.
‘Fuck’ Tommy screamed as your fingers went in deeper, retrieving the bullet from his wound. By this point, you were breathing as heavily as him.
‘I’ve got it Tommy, don’t move now’ you said as you carefully pulled the bullet out of his flesh.
Tommy took in a deep breath and, with another loud grunt, you dislodged the bullet.
It was intact and you sighed with relief while Tommy opened his eyes, looking at you in agony.
‘Now I will clean up the wound and stitch it, alright?’ you asked, causing Tommy to nod.
He let out another loud grunt as you poured some of the vodka over his wound before handing him a clean towel to apply pressure to the wound while you prepared the stitches.
His face was expressionless when you placed the stitches. You knew that the worst pain was over but, nonetheless, you were surprised by how well he had handled it.
This was when you noticed several large scars across his chest and arms. Almost too many to count.
‘You have been shot before, haven’t you?’ you asked while Tommy looked almost relaxed when you placed the sixth stitch.
‘Just a few times’ he smirked.
While you placed the last stitch, you could hear a car pull up in front of your door.
You opened the door quickly before applying a bandage around Tommy’s chest.
‘Fucking Hell Brother’ Arthur shouted as he walked into the living room with Isiah.
‘Arthur, this is Y/N’ Tommy said by way of introduction.
You quickly shook Arthur’s hand by which he was rather surprised.
‘Who the fuck did this?’ Arthur asked.
‘The Billy Boys. But they weren’t after me. They were after her’ Tommy explained.
‘Why?’ Arthur asked.
‘Because she is the daughter of the judge hearing the McCaven matter. I assume they wanted to send a message’ Tommy said.
‘Did they see you?’ Arthur asked.
‘Yes, but it doesn’t matter. They are dead’ Tommy responded.
‘Alright, what do you want us to do with the bodies? Send a message?’ Arthur asked.
‘Burry them behind the property. This never happened. They just disappeared and never made it here. By the time McCaven finds out the arrest warrants will be dropped and I can deal with the situation and Mosley’ Tommy instructed.
Arthur and Isiah attended the bodies as instructed by Tommy. You were surprised how quickly and efficiently they made the bodies disappear without any evidence whatsoever. It was clear to you that they had done this kind of thing before.
Before they left, Tommy gave Arthur a note to give to Jesse Eden and a note to give to a person named Kent.
In return Arthur gave Tommy three guns, a change of clothes and a bottle of opium.
After Arthur and Isiah had left, you made sure that Tommy was resting. After all, he had lost a lot of blood and you didn’t want him to pull a stitch.
Tender Moments
‘Do you have any more of that tea?’ Tommy asked as he held on to the bottle of opium that Arthur had given him. He starred at it, but didn’t open it.
‘Yes, sure. I will make some’ you said.
You were surprised by Tommy’s request but didn’t dare to argue.
You sat down next to him to have some tea while he placed the bottle of opium on the table in front of him.
‘Tommy, don’t’ you said.
‘Don’t what?’ he asked.
‘The opium, don’t take it’ you said.
‘Well, then put it away somewhere I cannot find it eh’ Tommy said as he handed you the bottle and you obliged with his request.
Tommy knew he would be regretting this soon, at night when his nightmares would wake him once again. It wasn’t the pain he couldn’t handle, but rather it was Grace’s visits in his dreams and dreaming about France hat destroyed him.
He was afraid of going to sleep but he needed sleep badly especially after today and so did you.
‘Are you not going to sleep?’ Tommy asked as clock struck midnight and you were still there with him talking about matters which he never talked to anyone about. He felt like he could confine in you and, despite your young age, you understood and you cared.
‘I don’t think I can. Not after what happened today. Not after what I have done’ you said as tears were building up in your eyes for the third time that evening.
‘Y/N, listen to me, alright?’ he said, caressing your face gently.
‘What you have done saved your life. These men were here to hurt you and now they can’t. You are safe now’ Tommy said as tears began to run down your cheek.
‘I killed someone Tommy’ you said in disarray.
‘You killed a bad man’ Tommy said as he used his thumbs to wipe away your tears.
‘It’s still a man Tommy’ you said before pressing your head against his chest. ‘Will the picture of him ever leave my head?’ you asked.
‘No Y/N, it won’t. But your guilt will, that I promise’ Tommy said. ‘Now, let’s get you some rest, eh?’ Tommy said.
‘Will you come with me Tommy?’ you asked nervously, knowing that your question was somewhat unusual.
‘Come with you? To bed?’ Tommy asked with surprise.
‘Yes, just to sleep by my side. I am scared Tommy’ you said.
‘I never had a woman ask me to join her in her bed simply for the purpose of sleeping, but alright, I suppose I can do that’ Tommy smirked before he followed you upstairs.
As Tommy lied down next you, bandaged up and wearing not much more than his white undergarments, you could feel something unusual. It was almost like some sort of warmth which was flowing through your chest.
‘Do you want me to turn off the light?’ Tommy asked as he got comfortable on the large white pillow, facing you and starring into your dark eyes.
‘Not yet. Perhaps we could talk for a little longer’ you said as you looked into his comforting blue eyes.
‘Alright, what you want to talk about?’ he asked and this is when you brought up his current wife Lizzie and his children.
‘What about your wife and children, where are they?’ you asked.
‘They are in Scotland, where, apparently they are safe from all this and from myself’ Tommy said with some disappointment.
‘From yourself? But they are your children’ you asked with some confusion.
‘They are, but they are indeed safer without me until I sort things out’ Tommy explained.
‘Do you miss your wife’ you asked.
‘No, I do not miss my wife. She filed for divorce six weeks ago’ Tommy said.
‘You do not seem upset about it. Why is that?’ you asked.
‘Because I know that it’s the right thing to do, to keep her safe. Our relationship was never one made of love. I never loved her the way a husband should love his wife. But, she is mother of my daughter and she cares deeply for my son. I trust her. She’s always been loyal to me and to the Company’ Tommy explained.
‘That’s nice…to have someone like this in your life’ you said.
‘It is indeed. Now you should get some rest eh’ Tommy said as he turned off the bedside lamp.
To his surprise, as soon as he turned off the light, you leaned over towards him carefully and rested your head on the uninjured side of his chest.
He let you and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close until you drifted off to sleep.
This was the first time for Thomas Shelby since he came back from France that he shared a bed with a woman other than his wife who didn’t have any sexual interactions with. To his surprise, despite the pain after having been shot, he slept better than he had expected. In the absence of nightmares, he was well rested until, after five hours of sleep, the next morning you heard a loud bang on the door.
Taking a Turn
You walked downstairs again with your loaded gun in your hand.
‘Who is it?’ you asked as you approached the door carefully.
‘Jesse Eden’ the person said and you quickly opened the door while Tommy came walking downstairs, out of your bedroom.
‘I actually just came here to make sure you didn’t kill each other but it looks like you’ve managed to become acquainted’ Jesse giggled.
‘It’s not what it looks like’ you said as Tommy walked out of your bedroom wearing nothing but his undergarments.
‘I assume Tommy has informed you about our past relations. But, for the record, I no longer have any interest in the man, so it’s quite alright with me if it is what looks like Y/N’ Jesse laughed.
‘You are no longer interested, eh?’ Tommy said to Jesse with a cheeky smile.
‘Unless you have forgotten, you ended up marrying someone else’ Jesse said.
‘Should I give you two some privacy?’ you asked as you felt uncomfortable being caught in between their conversation about old times.
‘No Y/N, there is no need eh Jesse?’ Tommy said with a laugh.
‘No there is not. Arthur came to see me last night to give me your note. But he hadn’t said anything about you having been injured’ Jesse said.  
‘It’s alright, she’s a nurse. I got lucky’ Tommy chuckled.
‘Well, I am glad because I have information from one of my informants that will be of interest to you now that you are still alive. The Crown prosecutor was removed from the case and so was the chief of police. Apparently, it was found out that they both involved themselves with illegal prostitutes at some of your brothels’ Jesse said.
‘Now that is interesting, isn’t it?’ Tommy smirked.
‘You obviously knew and blackmailed them. The man in charge of the matter is now your friend Lawrence Staghill who, I believe, is filing for a motion to dismiss for lack of evidence in front of the judge who still owes you a lot of money. So, it looks like that everything is going to plan for you once again Thomas Shelby OBE. You should be free to leave after the next three days. The case is to be heard after the weekend’ Jesse said.
‘You hear that? Three more days and I will be out of your hair Y/N’ Tommy said.
‘I can’t wait’ you said cheekily and with a hint of sarcasm.
Jesse stayed for a little while longer before heading back to Birmingham and you made sure that, for the entire day, Tommy rested.
It was hard for Tommy to rest. It was almost like he needed to do something at all times. He wasn’t a man who could ever just sit still and, say, read a book. His mind had to busy constantly and he loved to be challenged.
For you, the day went by quickly and looking after Tommy was almost like looking after a child who refuses to listen.
Gone Too Far
‘I see you made yourself a bed on the sofa again’ you said as you noticed Tommy putting the blanket and pillow on the sofa.
‘Whilst I enjoyed our pillow talk, I figured that last night was an exception. Unless you think you might have difficulty sleeping again’ Tommy smirked.
‘I think I just might’ you said with a smile as you finished brushing your hair.
‘Alright, I will take my pillow and blanket upstairs then eh’ Tommy said.
‘Alright, see you up there’ you smiled, causing Tommy to chuckle.
This was strange indeed, but he figured that, at least, the bed was more comfortable than the lounge.
‘So, what do you want to talk about tonight, eh?’ Tommy asked as you walked into the bedroom with a glass of water and two white pills.
‘I went to the chemist today. This should prevent infection’ you said you said as you handed him the glass and the tablets.
‘Thank you’ Tommy said as you lied down next to him.
He swallowed the tablets and waited for you to say something, start a conversation of some sort.
But you didn’t. You lied there quietly, your dark eyes gazing over his half naked body.
In this moment, he didn’t know what came over him but, just as he leaned to lie on his uninjured side, he ran his hands through your hair and his eyes met yours.
‘I haven’t met anyone quite like you’ Tommy said.
‘Why is that?’ you asked.
‘I am not sure. There is something about you that intrigues me. That doesn’t happen very often’ Tommy said and, just as he did, you leaned forward and your lips met his.
His lips were soft and still tasted like whiskey.
Reluctantly at first, he returned the kiss, gently but passionately.
It was a short kiss and your tongues never touched by the time you lips drifted apart.
Once your lips separated you starred at each other, questioning in your mind what had just happened between you.
With embarrassment, you pulled away and turned around quickly.
‘Goodnight Tommy’ you said after you turned around. You turned off the night light and pulled your blanket over you tightly.
‘Goodnight Y/N’ Tommy said with a slight chuckle, still facing into your direction.
Despite the fact that Tommy had been on your mind now for days, you were surprised by your own actions and wanted to pretend that the kiss between you just moments ago didn’t happen.
You knew about his past, the killings, the illegal businesses, everything. He was a man you knew you shouldn’t get involved with. He was also still married and, at least in the eye of the public, he was a fascist.
You tried very hard to ignore the fact that he was lying next to you, half naked. The fire was lightening the room slightly and you simply couldn’t close your eyes, starring to the other end of the room.
For ten minutes you tried to lie still, but couldn’t. You fidgeted and kept starring up and then to the side again.
‘Do you want me to help you go to sleep?’ Tommy asked as he noticed your restlessness, which instantly broke the silence between you.
‘Help me go to sleep?’ you asked with some confusion and without turning around to face him. You were still to embarrassed to look at him.
‘Yes’ Tommy said as, suddenly, you could feel his body moving closer towards yours but still separated by your individual blankets.
‘What do you mean by that Tommy?’ you asked with some ignorance and, just when you did, you could feel the back of your blanket lift slightly.
Within seconds, Tommy’s fingers trailed over your bare shoulders downwards over your small breasts which were covered by nothing but your silk nightgown.
Your nipple turned hard instantly at his touch and you let out a deep sigh.
‘Tommy, I have never been with anyone before’ you said, allowing his touch but worrying about what he was intending to do to you.
‘Don’t worry Love, I am not going to fuck you. At least not in the conventional way’ Tommy chuckled as his fingers circled over your hard nipples.
You had no idea what he could possibly mean by that. Did he not find you attractive? What was he going to do to you then if not that?
‘So, you don’t want me?’ you asked curiously while small moans escaped your lips as the tips of his fingers continued to run circles over your nipples.
‘I want you alright. But I am not keen on tearing my stitches’ Tommy said as his hands began to take hold of your breasts harder.
You moaned at his touch and felt a strange and unfamiliar sensation build up in between your legs.
It wasn’t long until you felt his fingers move downwards over your stomach until they finally began teasing the top of your mound through your panties.
‘Tommy, I don’t think I will be going to sleep with you touching me like this’ you said with heavy breath.  You wondered how on earth this was actually going to help you go to sleep.
‘I hope not’ Tommy laughed quietly. ‘But once I am done with you, you will sleep very well, that I promise’ he whispered into your before biting your earlobe gently.
You took in a deep breath and moaned quietly. The feeling of his hot breath was intense.
‘So do you want me to continue?’ he whispered.
You couldn't say yes. But you also couldn't say no. Instead, all that escaped your lips was another soft moan.
‘I need to hear you say it Love. Tell me you want me to keep going’ he said.
You whimpered under his touch, your hips now rocking to meet his hand. But he held firm.
‘I...it feels really good’ was all you could manage to say.
‘And you want me to continue?’ he asked as his fingers moved a little lower, over your panties, expertly brushing over your clit.  
‘Yes Tommy, please continue’ you moaned and, just like that, Tommy slit his hand beneath your panties, running his fingers directly over your wet slit, dipping only the top of them into you gently.
He then began to rub his wet finger tips over your clit, circling around your hard nub with light pressure.
‘Oh my god Tommy’ you moaned as you never felt anything just like that.
After a minute or two, Tommy gently slid one finger into you, looking out for any cues from you to ensure that he didn’t hurt you now that he knew that you were a virgin.
You were so tight, it was almost too much to start and he could feel the resistance of your hymen within you. But he kept going, carefully and gently thrusting his finger in and out of you at a slow pace.
You moaned softly and Tommy loved pulling a reaction out of you. It was almost like it was his goal to break your normally stoic composure.
Tommy wanted to know that you were enjoying what he was doing.
He began sliding his finger in and out of you all the way slowly at first, but not long after he started to build speed.
You enjoyed the alternating feeling between emptiness and fulness inside of you and were making the most delicious noises now. Your eyes were completely closed and you were moaning louder.
Suddenly Tommy slipped a second finger inside of you just to give you a little extra jolt and you reacted better than he could have expected.
It was slightly painful at first but the mild pain soon subsided and turned into pleasure.
‘Tommy, oh god...fuck’ you moaned as you began squirming just slightly and moaning a bit louder.
As his fingers kept thrusting in and out of you, your breathing became heavier and your legs began to quiver.
His thumb soon gave extra attention to your clit while he kept up with the movement of his middle and index finger.
Your moans kept getting more frequent now and you were certainly getting wetter too as Tommy kept going faster and harder.
You couldn’t believe how good he was making you feel with his fingers but you also didn’t know what to expect when an overwhelming sensation of warmth and tingling overcame you slowly.
‘Tommy, I don’t know if this is right. It feels strange’ you moaned as your legs began to shake and you couldn’t control your movements.
You tried to squirm away as the feeling was too unfamiliar to you. But Tommy persisted, pushing his hand firmer against you and his fingers even deeper inside of you.
‘Does it feel good?’ Tommy asked, knowing already what your answer would be as he could feel your walls tightening around his fingers.
‘Yes Tommy’ you managed to let out in between moans.
‘Then its right Love’ Tommy smirked. ‘Just relax and let go eh’ Tommy whispered.
You moaned once again, louder than before, and gave into the sensation.
It was intense, so intense that you had to clench onto the sheets and, just like this your orgasm washed over you.
You were a shaking mess and Tommy kept up the speed with his fingers until your orgasm slowly began to subside.
‘Fuck, what the hell just happened?’ you said once you began to calm down and while Tommy still stroked the outside of your now soaked mound.
‘Did you never have an orgasm before?’ Tommy asked surprised and with curiosity.
‘Like this? No. Never’ you said. Of course, you pleasured yourself before but the sensation was different, way less intense than what Tommy just managed to do to you.
As Tommy removed his hand from you, you turned around, your cheeks flushed. It was almost like you were embarrassed to look at him after what had just happened.
‘Feeling relaxed now?’ Tommy asked with a grin on his face.
‘Yes…uhm…thank you’ you said shyly.
‘It’s my pleasure’ Tommy said with a smile before giving you gentle kiss. You could have spent all night just kissing him. He was good at it and his lips were full and soft.
‘You should get some sleep now, eh’ he said after your lips drifted apart and he caressed your face.
‘Is there anything I could do to return the favour?’ you asked shyly, feeling somewhat guilty about the way he made you feel with nothing in return.
‘No, not tonight Love’ Tommy said as he pulled you closer. Whilst he had the desire to be with you that night, he was still not well enough after his injury and felt as though he should give you time. You were inexperienced and this was new territory for you, possibly overwhelming. Just like this, you had awoken the soft and gentle side of Thomas Shelby and that, in itself, brought him out of his own comfort zone.
He did not know what to do or how to act. The only woman who had managed to do this to him after he’s fought in France was his late wife Grace and he was certain that he would never meet another woman like this again. A woman he would care for in the same way he cared for Grace. Having met you changed everything for him that night and he struggled with the idea to accept his fade, especially with a woman half his age and who was the daughter of the man who tried very hard to bring him down.
Thus, as you leaned your head against his chest carefully, making sure that you didn’t lean against his wound, he couldn’t help but stare at you and ponder about what had brought him to you. Perhaps it was meant to be.
‘What’s wrong Tommy?’ you asked as you began to notice his eyes being fixated on you as he ran one of his hands through your hair gently.
‘Nothing, just enjoying the moment’ he said.
‘Me too Tommy’ you responded before closing your eyes and drifting off to sleep.
Change of Heart
The next morning, when you woke up, Tommy was not by your side. His side of the bed was empty.
But, when you walked downstairs you could see him, sitting in the dining room area with a pen and paper.
You weren’t sure what he was writing and you weren’t sure how to approach him after last night.
You decided to go with a kiss and, just after you said good morning and leaned in to kiss him, Tommy pulled away.
That was unexpected and you looked at him, full of questions.
‘Last night was a mistake Y/N for which I apologise. I should not have been temped’ Tommy said.
‘A mistake? Right’ you said as you walked over to the kitchen bench to boil the kettle. Small tears were running down your eyes and you tried hard to hide them from Tommy.
You had begun to care for him and you most clearly were developing feelings for him.
‘Y/N?’ Tommy said as he noticed you being upset.
‘Tommy, please just give me some space alright’ you said as you walked into the studio with your cup of tea.
You were embarrassed and you felt weak. Yet you wanted to be strong.
Were you too naïve, failing for a man like him?
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takuyakistall · 3 years
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colds and kisses
Lilia has lived for a long, long time now and it was safe to assume that he knew of a few things a normal student wouldn't, though, having said that—he used it to his advantage against you and you find yourself falling for one of his pranks. You ought to think twice when dealing with fae, lest you want him to trick you again.
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Getting a cold wasn't always the best outcome especially when it was the middle of the year when the professors would throw countless assignments and tests towards the student body, not giving even a single ounce of concern. Staying behind wasn't the brightest idea either—though with your body aching and head throbbing, it was hard for you to walk without having to feel like your whole body was about to give in.
Although you loved the idea of staying inside your room for the rest of the day, there was no denying that today wasn't the best time for that especially when the thought of your schoolwork piling up terrified you, it would be even more troublesome to deal with after you recovered.
You threw the covers over your head, burying yourself beneath the blanket and into the soft mattress as you closed your eyes, letting out a soft sigh. You could feel your warm breath bounce back and made it hard to breathe, you removed the blanket over your head—the fresh air entering your system as you desperately wished this troublesome cold went away.
"If only there was a quick way to get rid of this…" you whined, closing your eyes once again before you could hear someone knock on the door. You had no energy to stand up and weakly muttered under your breath that they could come in, praying that they heard it somehow so that you wouldn't have to stand up yourself.
The door clicked open, revealing none other than the vice dorm leader of Diasomnia, Lilia Vanrouge. If it was anyone else, you would've been shocked if they heard you from that distance with such a small voice; Lilia, however, mentioned he had superb hearing and seeing it being put to use like this wasn't much of a surprise but more of something that put you in awe.
"Oh dear, it seems like you really do have a cold." Lilia held a small tray with a single bowl lying atop—inside was a mix of various colours and bubbles forming like a swamp, you felt your blood run cold at the sight as you gulped.
"Worry not, I prepared something for you to help!" His enthusiastic voice made it harder for you to focus on the indescribable dish in his hands, worried that he might be talking about it when you were already fully aware that the dish was for you. Despite loathing the idea of eating his cooking, you never wanted to hurt his feelings when he's being very sincere.
"L-Lilia," you managed to squeak out. Barely managing to stop him from giving you the dish temporarily. He turned his head to meet your eyes, tilting his head cutely as if to question you without opening his mouth.
"Isn't there any other way to make me feel better? Like… don't you have any solutions back in your country? A spell, maybe?"
"For a simple cold?" He rubbed his chin, a devilish idea popping into his head as if the devil himself shoved it in. "There is one remedy popular among the fae."
"Really?" Your eyes sparkled, hoping that this was a chance for you to get back on your feet as soon as possible and get back to class—Lilia saw your reaction and couldn't help but let out a hearty laugh.
"It's a secret shared only among fae though," he lied. "So I must ask you to close your eyes while I do it for you."
You raised an eyebrow, a suspicious look forming on your face. Lilia wasn't exactly someone with a clean record with the way he constantly pranks his peers whenever he feels like it and you were no exception to his childish whims, you wonder if this was one of his silly little jokes but shoved the thought aside as you nodded reluctantly.
"Good," he praised you. Inching closer towards you before asking you to close your eyes and so you did.
You didn't hear Lilia say anything, nor did you feel him do anything for the first few seconds. Your suspicion began to rise as you debated on opening your eyes or not until you felt his cold, gloved hand cup your cheek and a pair of lips landing on yours.
Your eyes shot open in shock and felt your cheeks heat up tremendously, scooting away from the bat as you looked at him with a shocked expression—heart beating fast, too fast. He only laughed and let out a half-hearted apology, "Kufufu, do forgive me."
"W-What was that for!?" You exclaimed, angry yet still flushed at the sudden kiss. You fell for his pranks yet again, there was nothing more you wanted than to kick him out of your room.
"I could not help myself, you looked absolutely adorable when you believed there was a magic spell for a cold."
"So that was a lie?"
"Not entirely," Lilia went closer to you once again, faces inches close as he shot you another one of his smiles. "The best way to get rid of a cold is to pass it on to someone else, no?"
His hand cupped your cheek, preparing to kiss you once again as he asked you: "You do want to get better as soon as possible, don't you?"
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“Kisses in the Morning Rain” Pt. I
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Fandom: Attack on Titan Pairing: Eren x Reader  Words: 5.1k 
Warnings: Season 4 spoilers, canon divergence, alcohol consumption (and the effects afterwards), Reader is a Titan Shifter, open discrimination against Eldians and Paradis, acceptance of death, blood and violence, references to depression, mentions of past romantic feelings, Reader is conflicted but tries not to show it 
A/N: This idea has been floating around in the back of my mind since October of last year when I made this post, but I didn’t get around to writing it out until earlier this month. So I’m guessing this can be my first official fic of 2022? (Not counting my Levi/OC story’s most recent chapters.) I realized early on that I wanted to write so much of it, so it wouldn’t fit into a single lonesome fic but rather a multi-chapter one instead. But I’m proud of this fic, and I’m glad I have most of it planned out already, I just have to actually write it! Also tagging the always lovely @flamingblinglove for encouraging me and asking me to tag her when I finally posted it! Also big thanks to @unadulteratedtreecrusade, @therealvalkyrie​ and @icecreamranwich​ (if you guys remember from way back when), when you fed into that random idea I had all those months ago about Reader being the War Hammer Titan and encouraged me to continue with it! Without you all, this little fic (and the upcoming parts) would not exist in the first place. With that said, I hope you guys enjoy! 
“Kisses in the Morning Rain” Masterlist
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It’s raining again.
Not too much, just a light drizzle. Enough to make children giggle and their parents sigh in annoyance. You know the feeling all too well—of splashing in puddles as a child, and later grimacing at the droplets as an adult. Especially now; the sight of rain doesn’t sit well with you anymore.
You clear your throat, placing both hands on the railing of the balcony before you. The scent of morning air is strong, reminding you of fresh roses and singing birds. For a brief moment, it doesn’t even feel like you’re in Marley—Liberio, to be exact. Instead, you’re back in a place you only know in your memories, a place of bloodshed and violence—a place you once loved with all your heart.
Stop it, you scold yourself, shaking your head. No more of that. Not now.
No need to dwell on the past. Nothing good will come of it.
The sound of your name brings you out of your daze with a jolt. You turn your head, and a smile makes its way to your face when you recognize the gentle face of Fine, your younger cousin. Hanging off her arm is Alois, the youngest boy of the family, who urges her to follow him and play. But Fine keeps her eyes on you, stretching out her other hand.
“Come on,” she says with a smile, “Father wants to see you.”
Of course he does. But you put on a brave smile and take her hand, allowing her to lead you off of the balcony and into the mansion.
It’s been a few days since you arrived in Liberio. As head of the Tybur family, and the ruling family of the nation of Marley, Fine’s father is expected to make a speech at the upcoming festival, addressing prominent world leaders of countries around the world. The topic is classified to the rest of the nation, especially for those in Liberio—but it remains fresh in your mind, always at the forefront.
The rest of the children are roughhousing in the playroom. Fine shrieks and rushes over to them, with Alois still clinging to her other arm. Rico and Bruno topple over one another, while Gerta tugs at both of their shirts by the hems.
“Come on, don’t be like that!” She manages to wrestle Bruno from his twin, just as Alois begins swatting at Gerta. “Oh, stop it! I told you to be on your best behavior today!”
You can only offer a gentle smile in Fine’s direction, as you continue toward the hallway without her. She’s always taken on the burden of responsibility in her family; you suppose it comes with being the eldest child. You’re sure you would act the same way if you had siblings of your own.
The guards of the Tybur family are stationed along the gilded hallways, with two soldiers standing outside every door. Most of them stare straight ahead as you pass them by, but some of the newer, younger ones give you a sweet smile. It’s comforting, knowing not all of them see you as just an extension of your family’s power.
But you’ve grown used to it at this point. Most people only see you for the title you carry over your head, whether it be Tybur or Eldian. To the nobility of the world, the name Tybur brings hope and security. To the warriors among the streets of Marley, the name Eldian makes them scowl and wish you dead. Some of them excuse you for carrying the name Tybur; however, some of them aren’t able to look past that, and they condemn you with all the rest.
And after all you’ve done, you can’t say you blame them one bit.
Your uncle is waiting for you in the parlor of the mansion. Seated on the sofa facing the hearth, with his back to the door. A dangerous way for someone to hold themselves, with little regard to what’s happening behind them. But your uncle is a cunning man, well aware of everything going on around him.
He greets you with a smile, but you can tell it’s forced. He motions to the armchair adjacent to the sofa, and you take a seat at once, smoothing the skirt of your dress with your palms. At his subtle nod, the two guards stationed at the door bow their heads and slip out of the room, locking the door behind them.
“How are you feeling?”
You clear your throat, bunching your fists in your lap. “Well enough.”
He quirks an eyebrow, and you know instantly he can tell you’re lying. He’s been able to read you since the day you were born, ever since his sister held you out to him, swaddled in a mess of blankets. If there’s anyone in this world who knows you better than you know yourself, it’s Willy Tybur.
“Come on, answer truthfully. How are you really feeling?”
“…No better than I was yesterday.”
He sits back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. He’s right, there’s no point in lying to him. What do you gain from it? There’s nothing to be ashamed of, with what you’ve experienced in the past. Your uncle knows all about it, what you endured just a few years prior.
On that island of devils.
“Any news of the festival?”
He shakes his head. “The plan remains the same. We carry out our duties, till the end.”
Now you understand why he sent those guards away. Of all the people in Marley, the only ones who know about this plan are the two of you. You’re aware of your uncle’s true intentions when it comes to the upcoming festival in Liberio. And while you’re prepared to deal with the consequences…you can’t help but wonder if there’s another way.
“Are you certain they’ll send someone to attack?”
“No doubt in my mind. Commander Magath has already prepared his troops for battle. We have no way of knowing how they’ll attack, but our intel strongly suggests they’ll make an appearance.”
Of course. You wouldn’t put it past those filthy beasts to attack such a precious event. An event that intends to glorify Liberio and shine a light on the Eldians living there, seeking redemption for their cursed blood—all the while condemning the devils that live at the other side of the sea.
The island devils—the same ones you lived with for five years of your life. The ones you shared bread with; the ones you trained with; the ones you stargazed with in the dead of night.
Your throat tightens at the memories. The ones you used to love.
No.
You shake your head and stare straight at your uncle, who’s watching you intently. You have to be careful in front of him. There’s no reason to show signs of weakness or sympathy for the enemy.
There was a time you didn’t think of yourself as any different as those on the island. They had the same blood running through their veins as you did; the only difference was their home across the sea. And for years, you were convinced you were right.
But those days are gone. Over. In the past. There’s no going back now, not after what you’ve done.
What you’ve all done.
“…Can I ask you something, uncle?”
His shoulders loosen considerably. Despite the constant pressure and expectations that comes with the family name, he’s always been fond of the simple pleasures in life. Hearing you address him by such a title is one of them.
“Of course you can.”
You swallow and stare him in the eye, fists quaking in your lap. “Are you really planning to die that night?”
A heavy silence settles over the two of you. He lowers his head just a smidge—and for the first time in your life, you see Willy Tybur as a man who’s scared of death. Who’s scared of the inevitable, the promise of blood and war and loss. You see him as a simple man, cursed with the blood of Eldia. A respected ruler, desperately searching for a way out of this terrible war. And a father, clinging to the memories of his children’s smiles.
You don’t blame him in the slightest. If you were in his shoes, you would be terrified beyond belief, too afraid to even look anyone in the eye. That’s why you’re taken aback when he glances up at you, a calm smile plastered on his face.
“Yes, I am.”
“Auntie Greta won’t be pleased, you know.”
It’s a low blow, bringing up his wife—and the mother of their five children. You almost feel guilty, upon seeing the pain flash across his face. But if it’s enough to convince him to rethink this stupid plan, to find a way out of this mess and ensure that he doesn’t have to die—for their sake—you’re willing to do it.
“I know.” He sighs and stands from his seat, dusting his jacket as he does. “I hope she’ll be able to forgive me.”
“There’s still time,” you spit, and you shoot up from your seat to meet his eyes once more. “You don’t have to do this, uncle. You don’t have to die on that stage!”
Suddenly you’re pulled against his chest, with his delicate hands pressed against your head. The soft scent of lavender bathes your tongue, reminding you of the lavish life you were gifted within these Walls, despite having devils’ blood in your veins. An ongoing war between angels and devils, parted by a single salty ocean. A war that’s gone on for hundreds of years, with both sides screaming for it to stop.
A war you’ve already lost too many people to, on both sides—and now, you’re about to lose at least one more to the endless bloodshed.
“Commander Magath said the same thing,” he chuckles, and for a moment you wonder if he’s even talking to you at all. “If I don’t go out there, how will the rest of the world rally behind our cause? Those island devils must be disposed of, and if this is how we can do that, I’m more than willing to give my life for such a noble cause.”
This reckless bravery, the boldness of his words, the casual gambling with his life, and the hug that makes you feel as though this is really the end—it reaches into the darkest depths of your mind and pulls out a memory.
A memory of a boy, with a wide smile and bright green eyes.
“I’ll make sure to say my goodbyes to Greta and the kids before we leave for the festival. I suggest you do the same as well, just in case…”
You swallow hard once more. Worst case scenario: neither of you return home to your family, murdered by the island devils themselves. You know Greta and the kids will already be distraught over your uncle’s death; you have to return home for their sake, if not your own. You remember Fine’s gentle face, and your stomach swirls with something awful.
“Now go, get some rest.” He pulls away and heads for the door, leaving you trembling by the velvet chair beside the fireplace. “We all have a busy day tomorrow.”
He shuts the door behind him with a soft click—and not a second later, you flump back into the chair beside the fire, your face hidden in your trembling palms.
Not yet. Don’t take him just yet.
Willy has a family. A wife who adores him. Children who love him dearly. A niece who’s seen him as a father—ever since your mother died, you’ve looked up to him like he was the one who put the stars in the sky.
He has aspirations. Achievements. A life.
And all of that could be wiped out two nights from now, if he continues with this plan.
But it’s futile to try to reason with him. He can be a stubborn man—it’s something you’ve inherited from him, unfortunately. Once he sets his mind to something, it’s practically impossible to talk him out of it.
With a shaky breath, you push yourself out of your seat and head for the door, already thinking about what to say to Fine and the children if you return home from the festival without their father.
The day carries on as normally. Aunt Greta helps you prepare for the festival tomorrow, brushing your hair and picking out only the finest pieces of jewelry for you to wear. Fine continues to round up the kids, sending you tired smiles every now and then. You always feel a bit guilty for never being able to help her with them, since the majority of your time has been dedicated to remaining at your uncle’s side, preparing for your role as heir to the Tybur family. Sometimes you wish the issues at hand were simpler, so you could steal just a few moments playing with them and making them smile.
The rain is still beating hard against the roof when you retreat to your room for the night. You change out of your clothes and climb into bed, with the heavy blankets thrown over your head. But no matter how many times you close your eyes, you can’t seem to fall asleep.
The plan is set in stone. You heard your uncle confirming it with Commander Magath, just before dinner. Draped over the chair in the far corner is your outfit for the speech at the festival: a black dress with long sleeves and a high collar, with white lace sewn around the neckline.
Just looking at it makes you want to scream. A dress fit for a funeral, not a festival.
But it’s done. Your uncle’s mind is made up. The plan follows through, whether you like it or not.
With a huff, you pull the pillow over your head and pray the sound of the rain outside will lull you into a dreamless slumber.
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The first day of the festival carries on as usual. A carriage comes by to pick you and your uncle up, and the two of you leave the gates of the mansion in the early afternoon, leaving the children in the care of your aunt Greta.
The festival is a two-day event. The first day serves to greet the visiting leaders of the neighboring countries, at a grand hall close to the center of Liberio. You’re less than pleased about attending; you’ve already had your share of elegant balls and fancy gatherings to last a lifetime. Nevertheless, it’s expected of you to go. Besides, you might as well keep an eye on your uncle while you’re there, anyway.
The dress your aunt picked out for you is actually one of her own: a dark blue shade with thin straps around your shoulders, with the faintest hint of lace around the hem. Before leaving the mansion, you decided against bringing a sweater with you, thinking that it would only add unnecessary layers to your already stuffy outfit. But now, with the slight chill fluttering in through the windows of the carriage…you’re starting to wish you’d brought it along.
The gathering is similar to all the others you’ve attended in the last few years or so. Gorgeous dresses, pristine suits, crystal glasses filled to the brim with wine. It’s not your favorite brand of alcohol, but it does the job and eases your nerves just a bit.
You swish the liquid around in your glass, as your uncle drones on and greets the people around you. Just looking at it makes you scoff. You’re ashamed to admit it, but you have a soft spot for the common ale they used to serve over on the island. It was warmer, a bit more welcoming than this kind of fancy wine.
With a roll of your eyes, you down the rest of your drink and hand it off to one of the server kids—a young blond boy with wide eyes. Not a moment later he places another glass in your hands, and you mumble a short thank you before turning to your uncle.
“I just need some fresh air,” you explain, and Willy brushes you off with a smile. You swallow another mouthful of wine and step outside into the cool night air, hugging your arm around your body.
It’s nothing you haven’t seen before. Your uncle is a master at these events—easy to talk to and effortlessly polite. It’s a gift, you’ve heard your aunt say about him, to be able to speak with so many different people as though it’s nothing at all. Of course, that’s where the Tybur family’s strengths lie: fostering healthy relationships with Marley and the other nations of the world, all through your uncle’s charismatic approach.
Yeah, you have to be charismatic for something like this. Without your uncle convincing the world to fight against the island of devils tomorrow night, the nation of Marley would not stand a chance against them in this war.
The wine glass trembles in your grip at the thought of tomorrow night. Something cool drips down your hand; a thin line of red slowly crawls down your wrist. You wipe it away in haste before taking another swig.
The taste of alcohol burns your throat. It’s disgusting, too pristine and smooth for your liking. But at least it numbs your mind for the time being.
You almost chuckle at the thought: what would the leaders of the neighboring nations say if they saw the heir to the Tybur family, drunk out of her mind on a balcony in the middle of Liberio?
But with a fuzzy mind comes a flood of memories, some pleasant and some revolting. Some that want to make you laugh until your sides hurt, and some that make you want to fling the glass right off the edge of the building. Or better yet, yourself.
It’s a phase. She’ll get over it, eventually.
The cold glass bites into your palm. A jolt of energy shoots through your arm—and for a split second, you nearly shatter it right there in your hands. But you rein yourself in just in time, and only the edge of the glass splits in half.
She’ll forget about the time spent over there, I’m sure. It must’ve been hard for her, surrounded by so many devils. Pretending to be one of them.
Laughter booms from the room behind you. It seems as though everyone’s having a good time, exchanging pleasantries and happy memories of their childhoods.
You don’t belong here, Tybur. You know that—it’s written all over your face. This isn’t really your home. So come back.
Your teeth chatter—is it the wind, or something else? It’s hard to tell.
I trusted you! We all did! And you’re just going to leave like it’s nothing?!
Warmth floods over the palm of your hand. Suddenly you’re staring at the ground, at the shattered remains of the wine glass, watching the red streaks drip from your skin.
“Lady Tybur, are you alright?!”
A pair of soft hands, much smaller than your own, cradle your injured hand in a towel. It’s the blond boy from earlier, the same one who refilled your wine glass. He’s careful with how he handles you, always keeping the towel between his skin and your own. As though he’s been given strict orders not to touch you.
Your head is swimming now, eyelids growing heavier by the minute. “I…I’m fine,” you manage to say, forcing a smile at him. “Thank you for your help.”
It doesn’t hurt, but you don’t exactly want to parade through the ballroom with an injured hand. So you keep the towel wrapped around it, clutch it to your chest, and bid the boy farewell. His hazel eyes are wide when you thank him, even more so when you graze your other hand against the top of his head to ruffle his hair.
Soft, almost fuzzy… It reminds you of something from years ago; you just don’t have the courage to say it out loud.
It doesn’t take you long to find your uncle. There he is in the center of the room, holding out his wine glass and leading a toast with the other guests. Your heel nearly catches on the linoleum floor, and it’s getting harder to keep your eyes open.
His eyes widen when they fall on your face, and then the towel wrapped around your hand. “It’s nothing,” you mumble at once, “I’m just feeling a little ill. I’ll wait in the carriage until the party’s over.”
He looks like he wants to object, but he knows better than to make a spectacle out of your injuries. Already it looks like some of the guests are eyeing your hand and whispering amongst each other. He knows better than to feed into public speculation like this.
“If you wish,” he finally answers, “but make sure you clean it well before you leave.”
With a hasty nod, you hurry out of the ballroom and down the golden hall, praying you won’t fall until you get to the washroom.
A few guards offer to help, but you brush them off at once. That would be a sight to see—the heir of the Tybur family, assisted by her family’s lovely guards because she can’t even walk properly.
The washroom is silent when you step inside—you’re alone, and you lock the door behind you as fast as you can. A gush of cool water sprays over your palm when you lean over the edge of the sink. The red wine slides down the drain with the rest of the water, leaving your palm looking as good as new, without even the trace of a scar.
Your uncle warned you about drinking too much during times like these. Too much alcohol isn’t good for your body; it fumbles with the Titan powers, dulling your reflexes more than usual. It’s a side effect of inheriting your family’s Titan, unfortunately. You’ve heard (and seen) the past users suffer through the same thing.
A shard of glass is resting at the bottom of the sink. For a moment you think about slicing your palm again, just to feel that flood of energy course through your veins. To feel that power in the palms of your hands again, ending it all right here and now.
No. The voice is firm in the back of your mind. Not yet. Not with so many people here.
You grimace, throw the shard and the stained towel in the wastebasket, and stumble out of the washroom.
There’s a window opened at the end of the hall. From the damp scent that clings to the air outside, it’s getting ready to rain.
The word makes you shiver.
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A thousand droplets land on the roof of the tavern. The soft pitter-patter is almost enough to lull you back to sleep, if not for the beating heart against your ear. Your face buries into his chest, breathing in the warm, musky scent of the boy beside you.
His fingers trail down your bare back, soft and gentle and reminding you of home.
Not the home across the sea. Not the home at the base, where the rest of the cadets are celebrating. But the home you dream of having years from now, with a house in the forest and kids at your knees and Eren at your side.
He says your name so softly you almost miss it. You glance up at him, chin propped up on his chest, eyelashes fluttering through the darkness. He threads a hand through your hair, still frayed from sleep, before settling his palm against your cheek.
“It’s morning already, isn’t it?”
It’s hard not to sound disappointed as the question leaves your lips. The two of you had snuck out after the party last night, long after Mikasa and Armin had gone to bed. With what little savings you had, the two of you paid for a room in the nicest tavern Trost has to offer, to have a bit of privacy from the rest of the Scouts.
But now it’s morning, and you have to hurry back to the base before the others notice your absence. And gods forbid Captain Levi discovers you’ve left; you shudder at the promise of punishment upon returning to base.
Eren’s eyes are bright, even in the darkness. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but the sound of birds chirping through the light rainfall tells you morning has come. His skin is hot against your own—you can practically feel his Titan’s power coursing through his blood.
Devil’s blood, you remind yourself, and your eyes fill with tears.
“Shit,” he mumbles, sitting up at once, “what’s wrong? Was it something I said?”
You shake your head, chuckling weakly at how nervous he can get around you. You lean into his chest again, wiping away your tears, before pressing a kiss against his collarbone.
“Not a chance,” you whisper. “…I just wish this night could last forever.”
The thought makes you want to laugh. You’re kids, no more than fifteen and sixteen years old, at the front of a war neither of you asked for. Kids who spent all the money they had on a tiny room on the second floor of a tavern, doing nothing except crawling under the covers and falling asleep in each other’s arms. Kids who will surely die in thirteen years’ time—more like eight years, but Eren doesn’t know that. Kids who will never grow up to get married or have children or grow old at each other’s sides.
Kids that will never create the home you’ve dreamed of—the same one Eren reminds you of, in a little house at the heart of the forest.
“I want to live with you, when this is over.” The words burn your tongue on the way out. Tears stream down your face, hot and desperate and just wishing for a dream that cannot be fulfilled.
Eren’s hands stiffen against your back. For a moment you wonder if he’s going to reject you, to shy away and claim he’s not ready for something like that yet. You wouldn’t be surprised; sometimes it seems as though the only thing on that boy’s mind is revenge and fighting.
But then he leans in, his lips barely brushing against your own as he speaks, “I want to live with you, too.”
It sounds more promising than I love you. More intimate. More hopeful for the future. Almost as though the two of you won’t die, either tomorrow or sometime in the next eight years.
Live with me.
You twist your fingers in his hair and kiss him fiercely, the sounds of the rain and his heartbeat filling your ears.
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It’s not long before Willy joins you outside in the carriage. The party is over quickly, in preparation for the festival tomorrow morning, and for his speech tomorrow night. Neither of you say anything the entire ride home; he even lets you retreat to your bedroom without a fuss once you reach the mansion. You’re grateful for that, at least.
You stare up at the ceiling throughout the night, stealing bits of sleep here and there, tossing and turning against the pillows. The rain keeps you awake. The darkness makes it hard to breath. Tears stain your cheeks and the sheets below.
His name is on the tip of your tongue. You haven’t spoken it in years, too afraid that someone would hear you. That someone would ask you who he was, and why you sounded so sad when you said his name. It happened once with Bruno, when he was no more than three, when he snuck into your room while looking for a place to hide from his brothers. You begged him not to say anything to his parents, and for the most part he’d obeyed. Since then, you refrained from speaking about him, even when you were alone.
But now there’s a crushing weight against your chest. Memories piling on top of each other, choking you and making it hard to breathe. Your blood thrums in your veins at the thought of him—both the Titan part and the human part inside you. Even after all this time, you still want him. His power, his warmth, his skin, his heart, his eyes—everything that makes him…
“Eren,” you whisper, with no one but the rain to hear you.
The weight eases off your chest just a bit. You whisper it again and again, until the pain becomes bearable, before sinking into a dreamless slumber, with his name still on your lips.
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Everything’s on fire.
The people, the buildings, the stage—everything around you is burning down. Blood slips down your forehead, down your arm and staining your dress. The black dress your aunt picked out for you, so beautiful but sad. The perfect dress to wear to a funeral.
Tears burn against your eyes as you stare up at the monster before you.
The night began so simply. Willy took to the stage, voice booming throughout the crowd. Cameras flashed, people cheered. Fanfare played. Promises were made. War was declared.
And then the stage burst into splinters, a deafening roar shattering the air. You barely had time to scream your uncle’s name as he was plucked from the stage, blood spraying from his torn limbs as he slid down the monster’s throat.
Not a monster—a Titan.
Everything is dark. The people are screaming, desperately trying to escape the Titan’s wrath. You can hear the surviving members of the military screaming into their radios, calling for every single troop to return home to defend Liberio. The Titan roars again before smashing another box of seats closest to the stage—the one where the military officers had been seated.
The ground is slick with blood as you push yourself onto your feet. Clutching your arm and glaring up at the Titan, your skin already sewing itself up. But the cut on your forehead remains untouched.
The Attack Titan.
You knew the island devils would plan to attack during the speech—you just didn’t expect them to send him.
Your stomach flips. Staring up at the boy you once knew, the boy you once loved, and the boy whose heart you broke…it sends a powerful wave of rage through you.
“Eren,” you whisper his name hatefully now, and the blood drips down the sides of your face.
A burst of lightning floods your vision, as the Titan inside you comes to life.
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persephones-wren · 3 years
Note
Hello! may i request a c!revivebur who’s walking around the server and sees his (now ex) partner for the first time since he died and he apologizes to them for how he treated them in pogtopia and they just like walk around and catch up please? love your writing!! don’t worry if this gets rejected or you don’t feel inspired i know how it feels!
Hope (c!Revivedbur x Reader)
apologies if it's a bit out of character, it's been a while since I've written anything for the DSMP :) but thank you for my first request from there! I hope you liked how it turned out!
Warnings: none? all lore is pretty outdated I think
Genre: fluff-ish
Word Count: 1220
Dawn breaks.
He stands there, watching the sunrise. His trench-coat feels heavy. The gloves on his hands feel scratchy, and he knows he keeps tightening them; a nervous habit. He’s going to betray them all. Whether they win or lose the final war, L’Manberg is going to go up in flames.
He’s not going to be there to see it all.
“You alright, Will?”
You stand beside him, on the cliff, and he knows that Tommy and Tubbo are probably somewhere behind him, watching over you both. He didn’t have his sanity anymore, but he was still in control enough to think of them and Niki, fighting for a false cause, watching over him, worried.
“Of course, love. Why wouldn’t I be?”
His voice is an odd, jubilant tone. It’s one he’s had for a while, the one he had when Tommy and Techno spared and he pushed them both, the one he had when referring to Dream.
You don’t know whether it’s happiness or madness.
“Wilbur Soot.”
“Y/N, I’m alright,” he sighs. He puts his arm around you. “We’re going to win L’Manberg back,” Lie. “and we’ll be able to have everything we once did.” Lie. “I’ll run the country again as it’s rightful leader,” Lie. “and it’ll be the place to build our future.” Lie.
“I don’t care about L’Manberg as much as I care about you,” you state. “Wilbur Soot, I love you. No matter what happens today,” you whisper, “That won’t change.”
How foolish you had been.
Philza had murdered him, a diamond sword straight through his chest, and the only thing that reassured you that it was what he wanted was the smile on his face. Your word never faltered, though. No matter what happens, you’d still love him.
You’re considering changing that sentiment as you go to visit the same cliff, and see someone already there. Occasionally, it’d be Niki there, or Tommy and Tubbo, sometimes even Ranboo. You’d talk to them, reminisce, or tell them bits of history. It always hurts your heart, but that’s what kept the dead alive, their stories.
It’s not any of them this time, though.
You scan the figure ahead of you. Tall, wearing a jacket, gauze and blood wrapped around his right arm. The height tells you it’s Ghostbur, but the dressing and the vibrant color in his hair tells you it’s his living counterpart.
It’s Wilbur. It’s Wilbur Soot, not Ghostbur.
You pinch at your wrist, but the slight sting tells you that it’s no dream.
Wilbur Soot stands a couple meters in front of you, alive. You want to run, away or toward him, you can’t be sure, but you’re rooted in place. He’s alive. The realization fills your heart with love, with fear- which era of Wilbur has he returned as? Is he the musician who made you swoon? Is he the revolutionary, the gentle and kind leader? Is he the man who spiraled into insanity, who blew up L’Manburg?
“Beautiful sunset, isn’t it?”
He knows there’s someone there. Who, he isn’t sure, but whoever it was, whether it was someone new or someone he had to make amends to- starting a conversation was the best way to find a window to apologize. Personal gains aside, there were a lot of people who deserved apologies from him.
Especially his love.
“It’s nice,” you say, cautious. “I haven’t really taken the time to look at another one since Doomsday.”
He turns toward you, shock in his expression and a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. Your hand rests on the hilt of your sword, and he frowns at that.
Did you think- didn’t you still have two lives? He’s not the man he was when he was last alive.
“Love-”
“Please don’t call me that,” you whisper.
“I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not the person who blew up L’Manberg.” He takes note of the way your expression softens slightly, but your hand doesn’t move. “Darling, I’m unarmed. Why are you- how many lives are you on?”
“One.”
“One? I thought- What happened?”
“The L’Manberg explosion took my second one.”
He notices the way you say L’Manberg and not Doomsday. It was his doing.
He decides that he’s never going to forgive himself for it. Even if you do, he’s going to spend the rest of his life making it up to you.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and strides towards you, throwing his arms around you. “I’m so sorry.”
There’s a small silence, before you speak. “I’m getting over it,” you mutter into his shoulder. “All I have to do is avoid conflict. It can’t be the hardest thing in the world.”
“It’s difficult here.” His concern makes you feel warm. Maybe death has changed him. You hope death has changed him.
“I know,” you respond quietly. Avoiding problems never was the strong suit of anyone on the SMP.
“I’ll find a way to beat death for you.”
You laugh a little, and reach your hand up to ruffle his hair. “Of course you’d find a way. You’re always pushing for change.”
“Especially if it helps the people I love.”
You don’t get a moment to reflect on his words before he’s reaching for your hand, interlocking it with his. You both walk, side by side, throughout the SMP.
“A lot has changed,” he remarks.
“Yeah. A lot has.”
Care to tell me what’s been happening around here?”
“Do you have any memories from Ghostbur?”
“Oh, him,” Wilbur frowns at that. His ghost had been way too positive, quite odd, to be honest. Perhaps he felt the tiniest bit guilty that Ghostbur was stuck in the personal hell that was Jubilee Line, but if it meant he got to live, he would make the same decision again, to board the train Dream had sent out for him.
You’re still staring at him, and he gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry, zoned out there. I don’t exactly have many memories, but they’re coming back to me, little by little.”
“We rebuilt L’Manberg, before Tommy was exiled. You left with him, as Ghostbur. I don’t exactly know what happened there, but-” you sigh. “It must have been hell. Tommy never really recovered, I don’t think. Tubbo forbade any of us to visit, he said it was too dangerous to confront Dream head on.”
“I remember that,” Wilbur says quietly. “If I were to see Dream again, I’d strike him down where he stood.”
“He’s in prison now, thankfully. I’d say he’s getting what he deserves.”
He decides not to mention how Dream was the one who brought him to life.
You both finally stop at the ruins of L’Manberg, staring down into the glass-covered crater. It’s a swirl of memories, a tangle of old times, a harsh reminder of the past.
“We should look towards the future,” Wilbur speaks. His eyes are focused on the bright of the moon, and the glimmer of the stars above both of you. “A future together,” he adds. He kisses the top of your head and puts his hand around your waist, cautious, but you make no move to stop him. Even if he’s not the same, he’s close to the man you once knew.
You find the constellation he’s looking at, and smile slightly.
Canis Major.
A future together.
Hope.
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