#Heaven shelby

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x You

Summary: It was supposed to be an entertaining evening. Boxing fights, booze and party. It wasn't supposed to be one of the worst days of your life. || Featuring Tommy Shelby x Reader

Words: 4.5k

TW: angst+++, alteration of canon events, canonical violence, depictions of slaughter and body horror, main character death, Reader's husband dying, suicidal thoughts, graphic murder. Parts in bold are direct quotes from the show. Parts in Italics are direct quotes from preceding chapters. Also, Tommy will take more space in the next chapters.

Notes:

✞ Shorter chapter because it's extremely violent and angsty. Also, I'm super rusty so I tried to write it in a more direct style so it's prolly less poetic and beautiful.

✞ This is chapter 16 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alones but reading the whole series will make the experience far more intense.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

The extraordinary general meeting of the Shelby Ladies Club.

This is what Polly called this unexpected little meeting in the bathroom right in the middle of the rigged fight happening a few rooms away. When you entered the lavatory with Ada complaining about the sparring between Goliath and Bonnie, Aunt Pol was taking a cigarette from the silver case she was holding while Lizzie was fixing her hair.

“I love your messy bun, Heaven.” Lizzie complimented when she saw your reflection in the mirror she was using.

“Thank you Liz. Ada scolded me and decided that it would be a better hairstyle for tonight.”

“You never style your hair except for braids and it’s a fucking shame considering how beautiful and long your white mane is.” The young Shelby sister insisted.

“If you say so,” You snorted, amused, “What are you doing here? Plotting and scheming? Leave these for Thomas.” You smirked, sitting on the edge of a sink with movements as nimble as a cat. Your little cutting remark had the expected effect: the three girls laughed with sincerity, somewhat amused by the beef between you and the family’s boss. They had eventually learned that nothing could ever ease the tension between the two of you, so laughing about the matter was the only thing they could do. A part of you couldn’t help but think that they wouldn’t find it that amusing anymore if they knew the unhealthy turn your mutual hatred had taken.

What did you feel when we kissed? A shiver ran down your spine as you heard Tommy’s husky voice, as charming as venomous, whispering in your ear. It might only have been a memory, but you could almost feel his hot whisky breath brushing your skin.

“Heaven has some news.” Polly’s voice resounded in the bathroom, snatching you from your thoughts.

“Me?” You asked, batting your bambi lashes in incomprehension before the understanding of the situation slapped you right in the face.

“Well, tell her. Now! While the men are screaming for blood.”  Polly sneaked a cigarette between her thin, red lips. 

Your blood momentarily froze in your pale veins for this unexpected pregnancy wasn’t something you wanted to talk about. For sure Aunt Pol didn’t mean to do harm, but the surrounding chaos and your last encounter with Luca Changretta seriously eroded your wish to have a baby. The baby who made you so vulnerable during times that were anything but good. Moreover, a quick glance at Lizzie’s sad and anxious eyes had been enough for you to understand that something was weighing on her shoulders. Something you had guessed for a few days. Something she needed to talk about more than you. The corner of your mouth turned up in a half-smile.

“Well, I discovered something about Lizzie but I think she should be the one making the announcement. Shouldn’t you, Lizzie?” You winked, replacing one of your long white strands of hair behind your pierced ear with a naive pout. Glitters of hope and gratefulness suddenly sparkled in the ocean blue of the secretary’s eyes to whom you replied with a discreet nod before grabbing Polly’s cigarette case.

“I’m up the duff. And it’s Tommy’s.”

You took a long drag on the cigarette and slowly exhaled the smoke by your nostrils as the attention was now on Lizzie. Even though Ada almost choked on her sip of gin, she quickly showed interest in the tall woman’s pregnancy. The only one you didn’t fool was old and cunning Aunt Pol who gave you a brief “okay I get it” glance before turning back to Lizzie.

It’s a girl. Call her Ruby. Ruby Shelby. She’ll be a star in a Hollywood movie.

You watched the scene with a light smile floating upon your plump and glossy lips, satisfied by the outcome of your little trick as well as the surprising unconditional support Lizzie was receiving after years of being seen only through her job as a prostitute. Admittedly, the reason behind the little push you gave to Lizzie Stark was purely selfish, but you couldn’t deny the fact that you kind of liked the woman despite never really interacting with her. She got the attention, and you got peace. It was a win-win situation.

“Congratulations, Lizzie.” You said, your siren-like voice as soft as a lazy ocean.

“She’s a real Shelby lady now. Just like you, Devil.”  Polly’s smirk betrayed her amusement. You rolled your eyes teasingly before proudly showing your left hand and wiggling your small fingers to display the magnificent wedding ring Arthur had gifted you.

“What about you Hev? When are you planning to give us a little Arthur?” Ada suddenly asked, Lizzie's news had visibly rendered her sour mood better.

“I think one Arthur is enough for now, don’t you?” You got up from the sink and carefully smoothed the folds your revealing black dress, “Anyway. Ladies, let’s rejoin our gentlemen.”

“I guess the meeting is over.” Ada added with a little chuckle

Joining deeds to words, Polly gently hooked her arm with yours in a motherly gesture and guided you outside, where the crowd’s roars were echoing.

Laughs and cheers filled the room as Johnny Dog put on a show to get more men to bet on the winner of this fight. Swallowing a mouthful of gin, your seraphic traits turned into a wince at the burning sensation the alcohol left in your throat – that new batch was strong, indeed. The sweet taste that exploded on your tastebuds, when the tip of your rosy tongue licked your juicy lips, made you grin, or maybe it was the all-consuming smell of sweat and blood that lingered in the air. It might come off as surprising for other women, but you enjoyed watching fights. There was something brutal but so real about them. After all, humans were just animals wearing suits. Animals which, according to you, had barely learned to speak instead of growling.

Your lips pinched the cigarette as you took another drag you quickly blew, your eyes following blood spurting from Bonnie’s nose and splattering the ground. Although quieter than Polly, Lizzie, and Ada, who were laughing, screaming, and sometimes nudging you in excitement at each violent blow the Romani boy gave back to his opponent, you had a lot of fun. Until a peculiar but familiar feeling blossomed within.

It started with a chill creeping down your spine and ended up with light tremors shaking your frail silhouette. Instinctively, you raised your piercing gaze and searched for Arthur somewhere among the crowded rows of folded seats. Your usual calm demeanor faltered as you noticed that your husband seemed troubled by something, rapidly glancing from here and there, attempting to read the room for whatever reason. He didn’t even pay attention to you, far too busy observing the men that were around the boxing ring. Eventually, Arthur stood up and left, his steel blue eyes fixed on someone he followed through the depths of the building. Let me do my fucking job! That’s what he barked at Tommy, or at least what you thought you overheard.

You frowned as a strange sensation rippled through your mind – like a distant, haunting whisper of something looming, a threat. Nervously swallowing your saliva, your first reflex was looking at Tommy. You couldn’t place it, but the odd feeling gripped you tightly like an omen you couldn’t shake, warning you of an approaching storm. It seemed like little King Shelby shared your inner agitation though, for his mesmerizing turquoise eyes dived into yours with the same nervousness and incomprehension. Whatever the many reasons behind your hatred, you were definitely on the same wavelength at this very moment. The silent conversation, expressed through brief eyebrows and eye movements, was more or less the following:

-Where is he going?

-I don’t know. It’s prolly the booze and the pills.

-It’s not. I’ll check.

-Don’t fucking do that.

You stood up from your seat with a clenched jaw and, feeling the vibration of this bad omen quaking your soul itself, you nimbly snaked in and out through seats and followed Arthur’s steps. As was the case for your husband a few minutes ago, the dark corridor into which you rushed engulfed your ethereal silhouette like a hungry giant.

“Fuck.” Tommy mumbled, straightening on his seat and leaning forward, “Fuck.” He repeated, torn between his own doubts and his disdain for you. Nevertheless, if there was one thing he had learned since you joined the family was that your gut feelings were never wrong. You proved it several times, starting by foreseeing Charlie’s abduction. The dark-haired gangster sniffed and nervously rubbed his chin, his catlike eyes going back on forth between the corridor and the crowd. A few minutes later, Tommy finally left the fighting pit.

Something was definitely off.

Cautiously walking through the maze of dark hallways dimly lit by a bluish light, you tried to ignore the maddening beat of your heart that was drumming so loud you felt it hammering in your temples. You didn’t really know where you were heading, nor where Arthur went, but the more you moved forward, the more this unbearable feeling of dread and panic invaded you. Your aimless wandering came to an end when the strong and metallic smell of fresh blood and the atrocious sight that followed jumped at your face.

No.

Your heart nearly stopped when you saw him – your husband, slumped on the ground, blood soaking through the collar of his shirt as it gushed from the wound across his throat.

No!

Time seemed to slow down, and your heart seemed to stop as you took in the scene: the gun the Italian bastard was holding in his steady hand aimed at Arthur’s head.

Panic crashed over you like a tidal wave, washing away everything but the rage that had piled up within you during all these years. In that moment, something primal and destructive snapped inside of you. In a blur of rage and raw instinct, and with a guttural scream that seemed too inhumane to come from you, you launched yourself at the mafioso, who barely had the time to turn around. Another furious shriek escaped from your quivering lips, similar to the rabid screech of a wounded banshee, and with your fingers curled into claws, your sharp nails slashed across his face.  

“PUTTANA!” The man yelled and gasped, taken aback by your unleashed fury.

The mafioso fired with his gun in a desperate attempt to kill you but the brutal impact between your two bodies threw him off balance and the shot reached the wall instead of your brain. As his spine crashed against the tiled ground, Changretta’s henchman dropped the weapon. You gave it a brutal blow to make it slide away from him.

Another wave of insults followed as he realized that he struggled to overpower you. You were fighting like a cornered animal, wild and relentless. Your claws scratched him again and again, leaving raw and jagged lines of blood all over his face. The mafioso's strength was starting to falter as he realized that you weren’t just fighting to win; you were fighting to kill him, your body moved by the instinct of a bloodthirsty beast that refused to be caged.

"Stop it, you fucking bitch!" A scream of utter pain brutally tore the air as, completely out of your mind, you dug your thumbs into his skull, pushing harder and harder in an attempt to gouge his eyes. The Sicilian man produced a second sound so twisted that it seemed beyond anything a human throat could produce. The more you pushed with your thumbs, the more you felt his eyeball turning into a viscous pulp. The feeling of the moist and warm liquid on your fingers didn’t stop you. Nor the man’s wails of pure agony, with its pitch far too high and too broken.

“Ajùtami! Ajùtami!” He pleaded, his hands felt the ground in panic, searching for anything he could use to push you away from him. Anything to make you stop. Realizing that nothing was around him, not even the thread he used to attack Arthur, he managed to overcome the pain and gather his strength to grab your throat.

With your air squeezed, you wheezed and removed your fingers from his skull to claw his strong hands. “S-Stop!” Panic flooded you as your vision blurred, black spots dancing at the edges. The harder you fought, the harder he strangled you. Seriously lacking air, you clawed at his arms, desperate to breathe, but his grip was iron. Now you had to do something and do it quickly if you wanted to have a chance to save Arthur.

Your thoughts raced, frantic, until instinct took over.

I love your messy bun, Hev!

The judas stick – now you had a chance. With one quick movement, you brought your hand to your bun and your fingers fumbled for the sharp metal judas stick that was holding your hair in place. It came in handy. With a choked sound, you drove it upward and sunk the sharp edge of the stick into the man’s side.

One time.

Two times.

Three, four, five, six…

Side, chest, shoulder, face… 

Each impact was vicious and powerful, tearing through the flesh like butter and drilling into organs and bones with the sheer will of maiming your enemy. Hot blood splashed all over you and around, but you didn’t care. The only thing that made you stop stabbing him was when you felt the man’s grip loosen around your throat until his arms dropped on the red-smeared ground in a loud thud.

“Fuck!” You sucked in a sharp breath, your voice hoarse from being choked. However, you quickly got up from the corpse to run to your husband.  “Arthur!” You screamed, rushing to his side, your hands trembling as you knelt beside him – or rather as you dropped to your knees, your legs unable to support your weight anymore. Panic seized you even more violently as you saw Arthur's deep wound and the blood—too much blood.

“No, no, no… not like this,” You whispered, voice cracking. You couldn’t lose him, not here, not now. Never. Your fingers brushed over his chest and, in your deepest desperation, you looked for his pulse. A pulse you found, but which was becoming slower and fainter as seconds flew by. “Arthur! Please!” You started sobbing, tears streaming down your face and mixing with the fresh blood that was painting your skin in a disgusting shade of red. You had to face the truth: Arthur was dying. The damages were too serious and the bleeding too much… But you were a witch. The gift of healing was coursing through your veins. The only problem was that if you tried to save him by using your magic, you’d hurt the baby. After all, that was what happened when you tried to kill Luca Changretta with a heart attack.

The baby.

Your husband or the baby?

Your heart painfully raced in your chest. Your erratic breathing and your sore throat made you feel like you weren’t getting enough air.

 “I’d love to have kids with ye, eh. Little white-haired and blue-eyed us running barefoot in the forest… Little embodiments of our love brightening our life.” His voice was merely a whisper now for he was slowly falling asleep, “I’ve always wanted to be a dad… but thought I was too messed up for that.”

You could save him. You had to. Despite this torture of a dilemma and the harshness of the decision, nothing could change your mind, not even the feeling of your heart shattering into millions of shards. Closing your eyes, you placed one hand over his throat, the blood warm under your palm, and the other on his chest. Wasting no time, you channel all your strength – the connection sparked, and the raw, untamed magic you inherited from your mother surged through you. It seemed to work at first, his pulse lightly responding to yours.

But the more the magic surged, the more you felt a terrible pain in your belly. It started as cramps but quickly escalated into suffering so high that you felt like someone was stabbing you. A trembling squeal escaped from your red lips. You were killing it, you knew it. You were killing your own baby.

"Come on, come on," You muttered, pushing harder, forcing your will into his body. "Stay with me, Arthur," You whispered, tears streaking down your face, each sentence cut by muffled cries of the mafioso you had slaughtered and who was still alive— not for too long to be honest. He seemed to say something in Sicilian but you couldn't understand what. And you didn't care. "Just... stay with me." You gritted your teeth, doing your best to put up with the pain.

Click.

You froze.

“You nosey little slut. You should've stayed with the others.” 

Your heart missed a leap at the unknown male voice, carried by a thick Italian accent. The mafioso’s colleague looked at you, gun pointed right to your head.

"Remember me?" He asked with a wicked smile, recalling the moment he had offered you a cigarette a few hours ago. During your brief chit-chat, he told you that his name was Damiano but you didn't make the connection between Changretta and his Italian heritage.

“Don't cry, you're going to meet with your husband again very soon." the imposing man added, a few seconds away from ending your life. However, Damiano didn't know what you were capable of. Even less now that you were driven by pure rage and despair.

“Shut the fuck up!” You suddenly yelled, your claws firmly anchored in your husband to make Damiano understand that no one would snatch him from your arms. Your voice, a seductive melody that could enchant like a siren’s song, suddenly sounded monstrous. Raw and primal, the way you screamed the threat echoed in the entire maze of hallways and made Tommy’s blood freeze in his veins, a few corridors away. “Fucking die!”

Damiano didn't know that he never stood a chance. You sealed that man's demise with one blunt arm movement as if you had wanted to chase a mosquito from your face.  

"Wh-What..."

Damiano, fell on his knees next to his dying friend, and writhed on the floor. With his two hands pressing on his chest, he suddenly started to choke and, right after, threw up a great amount of thick blood. Apart from the vomiting, blood soon seeped from his eyes and ears, bubbling like something inside was boiling them alive.

"P-Please!" He begged but you didn't stop. The man obviously tried to scream but the only sound he could produce was disgusting gurgles.

"Don't worry, you're going to meet your friend pretty soon." You replied with a cold and sardonic tone before closing your fist, the man's lungs responding to your gesture by imploding in his chest. Like his colleague's arms did a few minutes ago, Damiano's whole body crashed against the floor with a thud.

Quickly, you shifted back your attention to your husband and kept giving him all your energy while ignoring the black dots that were dancing in front of your eyes, as well as the awful, unbearable stabbing sensation in your core. You were definitely hurting yourself by using your power that much but you didn't give a fuck. “Arthur, please.” You growled, a feeling of dizziness building up so bad that you didn’t even hear the hurried footsteps that were coming closer, nor the hoarse, familiar voice of your brother-in-law.

"FUCK!" You exclaimed. You were losing Arthur again.

The three bodies lay strewn like discarded puppets, their lifeless forms twisted and broken on the blood-flown concrete floor. The once clean backroom had transformed into a nightmare realm of gore and horror that made Tommy's stomach turn upside-down.

The Peaky Blinder's boss took two steps back and brought his calloused hand to his mouth, fighting against the urge to puke – and God knew it took him a lot considering the atrocities he witnessed and did during the war. His turquoise gaze scanned the room, which had turned into a slaughterhouse. A fucking pool of crimson blood. First, he saw the limp and distorted corpse of Damiano, whose eyes were open wide in horror despite him being dead and cold. The terror in his frozen facial expression left no doubt about how awful his last moments must have been: he had suffered, and he had suffered more than a lot. Then, he caught a quick glimpse of the second victim. With his eyeballs reduced to a reddish foul mush, the lacerations on his face, and the abnormal number of stabbing wounds, the mafioso’s body was so maimed that it looked disgustingly grotesque.

Then he saw Arthur.

"Oh my God. Oh my fucking God — Arthur!"

Amidst the chaos, where the air hung heavy with the acrid and pungent scent of blood, Tommy's screams echoed far away in the distance as you knelt there, eyes wide open and silent tears streaming down your cheeks, mixed with dark trails of ruined mascara.

Tommy reacted immediately and knelt near his brother with a panic so uncontrollable that it swept away every ounce of coldness and self-control he usually displayed. He slapped his brother's cheeks several times in a vain attempt to help him come back to a conscious state but it didn't work. Thomas Shelby's fist hit the floor with frustration as the feeling of powerlessness crept into his heart. He was losing another brother and there was nothing he could do to save him.

But you could.

"Heaven, d'ya hear me?"

You let out a muffled whimper, or at least you thought you did as your senses saturated with one unique sound: a relentless ringing that echoed in the hollow caverns of your mind. With each pulse of your heart, the sound intensified, threatening to consume the last remnant of sanity you had left. The world around you had seemed to fade into obscurity, your sight blurry and reduced to only one color: red. Vibrant red splattered everywhere, on the walls, and yourself but most of it was on the floor. In fact, the ground itself seemed to writhe beneath the weight of the corpses, as crimson rivers flowed freely, painting the concrete in shades of crimson that gleamed like freshly spilled paint.

“Oi! Listen to me!” Tommy’s powerful voice suddenly snatched you from your daze just enough time to catch your attention and plunge his turquoise iris into your Arctic eyes.

“I—I can’t. I can’t, I can’t...” You repeated in a whisper, just like a broken record, because your husband’s pulse was weakening again, blind to your exhausting and painful efforts. Arthur was dying, your baby was dying and the intensity of the pain you went through was so insufferable that all you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and wait for death to make this nightmare stop.

Tommy rapidly shifted his body to be by your side, his sharp eyes focused, but softer than usual. “You’ve got this,” he whispered, meeting your panicked gaze. “Keep going. Don’t stop.” He pressed his hand firmly over yours, steadying the trembling fingers that worked to save his brother. His voice was low, gravelly, but laced with a quiet strength he tried to share with you. His grip was warm, grounding you in the chaos, his presence like an anchor. At that moment, the weight of the world felt momentarily lighter with him by your side. You replied to his help with a muffled sob.

"You've got this!" Tommy tried to keep you from falling apart but the sight of a thin trickle of blood slowly running down your nose worried him almost to death. He looked at you and he knew. He knew that you had given everything – every ounce of your energy to save his brother, your magic now drained. Your hand trembled, still pressed to Arthur’s chest, but the world around you was seriously fading to black.

Caught amid this Hell with Tommy by your side, you didn't hear nor feel Polly, who had found the crime scene.

"Oh lord please help us, oh Lord, oh Lord..." Polly cried, horrified by the bloodbath as well as by the sight of you clinging to Arthur's limp body. She had already lost one of her nephews and couldn't bear the weight of losing another one. Not her sweet Arthur. Not him,

"We're fucking losing her too!" Tommy exclaimed, "fucking help me!"

"Heaven!" She called, grabbing your shoulder and shaking you but all you did was scream one last time. A haunting and otherworldly wail that pierced the darkness. A sound so agonizing and inhumane that it seemed to tear at the very fabric of existence. It echoed across the building, carrying with it the weight indescribable of sorrow and despair as your arms tightened your grip around your dying husband.

The smell of blood hid Tommy's musky perfume that was tingling your nostrils. The deafening ringing in your ears covered Polly and her nephew's voice. Your breaths came shallow and weak, your body becoming heavier as darkness crept in. Slowly, your eyes fluttered shut. In one final movement, you collapsed beside your husband, your last thought a silent hope that he would live.

Or that you would at least die trying to save him.

✞ Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language. gif by the wonderful @alicent-targaryen.

✞ Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature

[justrainandcoffee]

Forest

They didn't see her for a while but she was always there. In silence and hidden in the forest, where she belongs. Heaven appeared a day at the end of october, her ethereal figure contrasting in the golden and reddish landscape. And next to her, was her faithful Kaiser the one who always accompanied her.

This is for Shark @call-sign-shark , hope you like it, darling!! 🍁

Masterlist

Shark!! Last month I planned this little event for my mutuals called Flor-tober and it's a bunch of moodboards for them (and me). That I did all of them, also last month.

I didn't do one for you because I wasn't sure if you were going to return or not but Juli @evita-shelby knows that I wanted to do one for you because I talked to her about it! And she said something like "leave it for the end, maybe she's back before the end of the month" Juli embracing her inner Eva capable of seeing the future 😂😂. I have her as witness!! I should have listened to her 🤭🧡.

The idea was to post one every other day, but since I didn't planned this one, I'm adding this today that it's a 'free' day between the previous moodboard (yesterday) and the next one (tomorrow).

[wonderlanddreamer]

Hello honey! I’m curious about Flo and Heaven, considering that John was literally the second most important person in Hev’s life! 🥹 thank you babe

The Enemy of my Enemy...

Florence Fletcher & Heaven Shelby

Neither of them liked nor trusted the other in the beginning. Heaven didn't like how Florence snooped in Shelby business, and Florence didn't like how Heaven snooped in hers and John's business.

"If you hurt him..." Hev would warn.

But she didn't get chance to finish, "I won't."

It was a vow she meant wholeheartedly, even though she had no idea why the expectation was there for her to prove herself.

They avoided each other for a while after that, until John let it slip to Heaven that Tommy had threatened Florence. Interesting, Hev had thought. Who knew that all it would take for the two to finally bond would be the mutual aversion to Tommy Shelby. John came to regret his little slip as the two women grew closer.

He huffed as he watched them laugh while he and Arthur bickered over who had stolen whose girl. "I liked it better when they fuckin' hated each other."

[zablife]

A Walk in the Garden with Heaven Shelby

Requested by @raincoffeeandfandoms for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀

Author's Note: Read Part 1 with Arthur here. Heaven Shelby (Arthur's wife) is an OC belonging to @call-sign-shark.

As Arthur raised the axe high above his head, Mrs. Shelby closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable, the scream she wished to release caught in her throat. She could feel the warmth of his hatred and body heat radiating over her in equal measure when the sharp click of high heels could be heard approaching, halting his movements.

"Cheri, where are you?” a gentle voice floated through the darkness of the cellar. The soft lilt sounded like an angel's song to her ears. As though a trance had been broken, Arthur too heard the call of this heavenly voice and turned to see his wife running toward him. When she was upon him, her small hands clasped his face as she demanded, "What are you doing?”

"I...I'm not meself, Heaven. I need ya to save me," he begged. The tiny woman at his side nodded in understanding, prying the axe from his trembling hands and helped him to lower it. Mrs. Shelby slumped to the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she watched the couple tenderly embracing before her.

"Thank you, thank you," she repeated to the woman who had saved her.

"Your hands have blood," Heaven noted, turning Arthur's palms over and studying them with concern, barely noticing her sister-in-law.

"My hands?" Arthur asked, looking down at them as though he didn't recognize them.

"Go and wash, then join your family," Heaven instructed and Arthur obeyed like a child who badly needed guidance, shuffling away in silence.

When he was out of sight, Mrs. Shelby looked to the silver haired woman with a mixture of awe and fear as she asked, "What made him do that?"

"Don't you know?" Heaven asked, tilting her head.

"No," she replied, unable to think of a reason why someone should wish her harm when she'd only wanted to gain their approval.

Heaven extended a hand to Mrs. Shelby, her face softening as she begged forgiveness. "He's a war veteran. He has flashbacks. Please don't judge too harshly."

Nodding vigorously she confided, "Tommy has nightmares…though he doesn't like to discuss it."

"Then you understand," Heaven said sympathetically.

"Yes, but I need a moment before I go back to the party," Mrs. Shelby admitted, running a hand through her hair. “I’m not feeling very well.”

"Let's take a walk in the garden. The fresh air will help your nerves," Heaven suggested, her plump lips curling into a reassuring smile.

—————————-

Soon Mrs. Shelby found herself in the cool evening air, feeling much improved. The full moon above them illuminated the gardens and highlighted the frosty beauty of Heaven's complexion in stunning detail. She could see why Arthur was so taken with his bride and she could only hope Tommy would still be as infatuated with her years into their marriage.

As the beating of her heart resumed a normal pace, she allowed her hand to reach for the velvety softness of the flower petals in the manicured beds, feeling a sense of calm descend after an evening of chaos. "Was it this unbearable when you arrived?" Mrs. Shelby asked quietly.

"Yes, at first...no one was kind to me except John," Heaven mused, as she quietly uncovered the gardener's box, her slim fingers ghosting over the tools. "But then it all changed," she said in a far off voice.

"When?" Tommy's bride asked as she stared out into the garden, desperate for a solution to her troubles.

"When I proved to them I wasn't weak," Heaven replied, an acidic burn to her sweetness as her hand grasped the pruning shears.

"How do I do that?" Mrs. Shelby asked, a hint of a laugh leaving her lips, as sad and broken as she felt in the moment.

Watching with curiosity, Heaven stalked toward the forlorn woman as silent as a creature of the night, concealing the glint of metal behind her back. Her sister-in-law didn't move as she approached, lulled by the warm breeze and an understanding ear. “You want to know how to make them respect you?” Heaven asked on a low breath.

“Please,” her sister-in-law breathed, eyes large and pleading as she turned to look at the only person to show her kindness all evening.

Heaven stood close enough for her lips to brush the other woman’s ear, sending a shiver down her spine. “You fight," she whispered as she plunged the scissors into her abdomen.

Gasping from shock and pain, Mrs. Shelby reeled, looking down to see a trickle of blood escape her body. Her mouth hung open as she stuttered, “Wh-why are you doing this to me?”

“Because you’ll tell Tommy about Arthur and I can’t have that,” Heaven said, twisting the handle sharply.

Mrs. Shelby's hand trembled as she reached out to steady herself, “Am I going to die?"

Heaven’s watchful gaze followed her, placing a delicate kiss to her cheek, the taste of a salty tear on her tongue as she replied sorrowfully, “That is your choice.” Then her eyes flashed with fire as she pulled the handle out with a jerk, poised to strike once more.

Mrs. Shelby staggered backward in agony, understanding the Shelbys perfectly in that moment. Kill or be killed and the thought terrified her, a jolt of adrenaline coursing through her veins despite the terrible pain in her side. She ran as quickly as she could through the maze of the tall hedgerows, praying she could find a way out.

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@shjjpm

@thomashelbyswife

[evita-shelby]

Birds of a Feather

After the chaos that ensued following Tommy’s sudden elopement with his own brother’s lover, the new couple find themselves in America and in company of Tommy’s new associates, the Nelsons of South Boston.

Perhaps Gina Nelson marrying Michael Gray won’t be so bad when Jack and Eva Nelson are cut from the same cloth as Tommy and Heaven Shelby.

A Tommy Shelby x Heaven Lavey ft Jack Nelson x Eva Smith moodboard for @call-sign-shark

[shelbydelrey]

Her Hidden Fangs

Arthur never gave much attention to Heaven's weird nocturnal habits or to her absurd despise for garlic. But after he catches her sipping a blood bag in the middle of the kitchen, the man will have to re-evaluate everything that he knows about his roomate.

This is my little gift for your 1K Followers milestone @call-sign-shark 😁 I've recently read a book called My Roomate Is a Vampire and i couldn't stop thinking that it could be a fun modern scenario for Arthur and Heaven. Hope you like it! 😘

[fablesfolklore]

In The Graveyard with Lilith Rose Shelby (and Jack Nelson)

This work is inspired by @zablife and her 2K celebration: An Evening at The Arrow House. The OC of Lilith Rose Shelby is my own. The characters of Scarlet Shelby, Aurora Sabini, Heaven Shelby and Eva Smith belong to @zablife, @evita-shelby and @call-sign-shark. I only mentioned them because they inspired me. Eva is only mentioned by name but I did my best to do Scarlet and Heaven justice. Thank you for inspiring me.

TW: Violence, Sexual Content, Swearing.

Lilith Rose Shelby was all grown up. She’d flown the coop and (unlike most members of the Shelby clan) had miraculously escaped the clutches of Tommy’s schemes. Some suspected that her untapped freedom had to do with her immense luck in life… but for those who knew better….it was because Thomas Shelby loved no one more than his youngest sister. No one held such an influence over the greatest gangster turned MP in all of Great Britain (and its dominions) than Lilith, no one else had the keys to his smile or to his heart. You might ask Why, then, she was allowed to roam free? Not shackled to the Arrow House as Ada had once been to the shithole in small heath. Not obligated to attend every family dinner or family meeting that Tommy threw whenever he felt like it.

       “Why?” The new Mrs Shelby kissed up Tommy’s back as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Will she not meet me?” Of all the people she desired to make a friend of in this family, Mrs Shelby wanted to make the best first impression on her mysterious good sister. Everyone spoke of her with reverence. Lilith’s name was the very essence of sorcery. Once spoken, even whispered in corridors and in dark corners, a shiver danced up one’s spine…or one’s blood spiked with adrenalin and excitement.  

Thomas bristled and stiffened, not responding. Mrs Shelby paused, a pout forming on her nervous lips. In truth, she had expected for Thomas to be eager for his new wife to meet Lilith. The siblings were so close, that she’d expected for her to have been the first person he’d have introduced her to. Instead she was met with a cagey Thomas.

       “Lilith doesn’t like Arrow House.” He deflected easily, lighting a cigarette as he stood up and wandered to the window, looking out into the foggy grey autumnal morning. He exhaled some smoke in the way that had her swooning, before he spoke again. “It reminds her of Grace.” Mrs Shelby’s heart dropped. Grace, the woman whose shadow she was forever enshrouded by. She didn’t openly wish to express her dislike of Grace or Lizzie, but she was beginning to despise them. She knew their spirits were mourned and honoured in this house…. if only by the staff and the children. It was complicated. But she hated being compared to them, hated the way the children refused to acknowledge her but would gaze in awe at the portraits of their respective mothers. It made her feel like a replacement…. nothing more. Perhaps Lilith would think the same of her. She chewed on her lip.

        “She must have loved Grace a lot.” She mused. Tommy scoffed.

        “On the contrary, Lilith hated Grace.” He licked his lips, glancing at his wife. He’d put it politely for her, spared some of the details. No one hated Grace more than Tommy’s beloved little demoness. “She disliked Lizzie as well, but for different reasons.”

        “Oh.”

        “Grace betrayed me. Lilith refused to forgive that. The only reason she refrained from dancing with joy when she died was that she loved me too much.”

        “And Lizzie?”

        “Lizzie broke John’s heart.”  Tommy spoke casually, remorselessly as though he’d had nothing to do with it.

        “I’ve not done anything to hurt anyone.” Mrs Shelby sulked, looking at the floor. Tommy strolled back over to the bed and took her into his arms.

        “Quite right.” He kissed her forehead. “Perhaps it’s not such a bad idea to invite her this weekend.”

        “But she hates the Arrow House.”

        “She’ll come for the family, and for me. The kids will be delighted to see her”

        “She’s good with them?” Her interest was piqued. Perhaps Lilith could shed light on the way to Charlie and Ruby’s hearts.

        “She dotes on them.” He smiled, a real genuine smile. “They’re mine, after all.”

*****

Mrs Shelby skipped towards Tommy, her letter filled left hand raised in triumph. Her sparkling sapphire engagement ring sparkled in the light.

     “They’re coming.” She kissed him joyously. “They’re all coming.”

     “All?” He chuckled.

     “All.” She confirmed. “And they’re all staying. Scarlet and Luca will stay in the room opposite Finn and Aurora. Alfie and Ada will stay in the room opposite Polly and Aberamma.” Tommy smiled as she babbled out her arrangements. He imagined it was a good idea that Alfie and Arthur should stay in separate wings of the house…. otherwise Ada and Heaven would be forced to intervene, and no one wanted a mess. Gina and Michael would go next to Ada and Alfie. John and Tatiana would have to be kept in the room next to Tommy and Mrs Shelby so he could keep an eye on that mad bitch. Speaking of that insane Russian duchess…. she’d have to be kept as far away from Lilith and her beloved husband, Jack Nelson. Last Christmas had been a disaster when Tatiana – having had way too much to drink – announced that herself and Lilith had been lovers for the entire year before Lilith had met Jack. Jack had hated her guts since. The children would have three whole rooms to themselves. Something Mrs Shelby wasn’t sure was appropriate, but something Tommy had insisted was necessary.

     “They all love being together.” He insisted. “And it’s not like we’re giving them the entire house.”

     “I’m still so shocked they’re all coming.” She smiled dreamily up at him. “I’ve always wanted a big family.”

     “Well, now you have one.”

     “You never told me Lilith was married.”

     “Ah.” Tommy looked sheepish. “I didn’t think she’d bring him.”

Two years ago she’d eloped with Jack Nelson, the last man on earth Tommy had thought suitable or good enough for Lilith. Jack Nelson was everything Tommy (ironically) hated. He was unfaithful, violent, a fascistic Irish American and he was the most obnoxious, ambitious, cunning bastard he’d ever encountered…It was like looking in an ever so slightly warped mirror. His dislike of the American hadn’t stopped Lilith marrying him though…And yet somehow, the marriage worked. Jack followed the little Shelby witch round like a lost puppy, salivating whenever she looked at him. It was like she held some sort of magical enchantment over him. The loved up pair made Thomas feel a little bit sick. Mrs Shelby smiled teasingly.

      “You can’t stand him, can you?”

      “He’s not good enough for her.” He grouched. “But for some unfathomable reason, he makes her happy. That’s enough for me.” From the way he gritted his teeth it seemed like that hardest thing he’d ever had to say.

      “Everyone thinks you’re a big bad gangster…but I know you’re really just a big softy.”

      “Don’t go telling everyone, ey.” He laughed, “I have a reputation to uphold.” Wrapping his arms around her waist he hoisted her up onto the table, taking her lips with his own. Someone coughed. Tommy turned to see Mary, the maid.

       “The house is all prepared for the guests, Mr Shelby.”

        “Thank you, Mary. That will be all.” She nodded, turning to leave but not before she eyed Mrs Shelby with frigid, calculating eyes. Thomas didn’t seem to notice though as he shifted his attention back to Mrs Shelby as his fingers slid beneath the hem of her dress.

*****

They were nothing like she expected. None of them. Polly arrived first, gliding in like the image of sophistication, barely glancing at Mrs Shelby. Aberamma following closely at her heels. He grunted in greeting, simply tilting his head after removing his hat. Arthur and Heaven arrived at the same time as Scarlet and Luca. Arthur’s greeting had been sweet. He seemed to like her, spluttering over his words to greet her. His hands shook and his eyes looked a little wild. But he meant well. Heaven waltzed in behind him, looking like an angel in her white fur coat. The snow haired beauty’s presence seemed to ease Arthur’s nervousness. He wrapped his arm around her waist as she held out her hand for Mrs Shelby to shake.

     “You must be Heaven.” Mrs Shelby stuttered, transfixed by her crystalline eyes.

     “Pleasure.” Heaven’s eyes slid to Tommy and her expression instantly shifted to a predatory one. “Bastard.” She acknowledged with a cat like smile.

      “Yes. He is.” Scarlet stated as she sauntered through, pushing her way past them and following Polly into the drawing room.

      “You’re not going to say hello, Tesoro?” Luca paused in the hallway, smiling at Mary as she took his hat and coat.

       “There’s no point in greeting Tommy’s latest victim. Knowing him, she won’t last the year.” Scarlet called back. Tommy watched Mrs Shelby’s confidence dissipate momentarily. Headlights glowed in the driveway.

       “Heaven, why don’t you take Arthur and Luca into the drawing room.” Tommy suggested. Heaven’s icy eyes hardened before narrowing at him. Her lips parted in order to respond in a somewhat poisonous manner but Mrs Shelby stepped forward and whispered to her.

       “I wouldn’t normally agree with Tommy but Alfie’s just arrived.” Heaven observed the mouse like woman Tommy had married for a moment before she nodded, escorting her husband and brother in law to the drawing room. Music blared as the door opened and Mrs Shelby could see the reflection of Scarlet in the large mirror as she turned the gramophone up.

       “SHALOM Thomas!” Roared the bear of a man as he wandered in. Ada rolled her eyes beside him. She hugged Thomas tightly before embracing Mrs Shelby, much to her surprise.

       “I hope they’ve not been too scathing to you.” She whispered. “Don’t worry, they’ll warm to you with time.” She pulled back and smiled. “This is my son, Karl, my daughter, Elizabeth and this,” She brushed her hand over her swollen midsection as Alfie beamed with joy. “Is baby Solomons.” Tommy paled as she spoke, only just noticing the pregnancy.

        “Jesus Christ.” He muttered beneath his breath.  Mrs Shelby held his hand and gave it a squeeze as she spoke.

        “You’d better head on in before he has a stroke.”

Tommy had just about recovered when the door to the drawing room opened and he heard Arthur exclaim.

         “Fookin’ hell Ada! You bloody kept that quiet, din’t ya?!”

Finn and Aurora Sabini arrived next. Polite and jovial as ever, though Aurora didn’t appear to like the way the youngest Shelby boy looked at his new sister in law. John, Tatiana, Michael and Gina all arrived together. Lawrence ran in from the cold, zooming in circles around Tommy and Mrs Shelby before running past them to the drawing room, banging on the door and yelling “Granma, Granma!”

       “My boy!” Polly called in joy as she came out and greeted him, swooping down and collecting him in her arms before slipping back inside. Gina made a noise of disgust.

       “Thomas.” She acknowledged.

       “Regina.” She scowled as he full named her.

       “So this is you’re newest whore?” She studied Mrs Shelby with critical eyes. “She doesn’t look like much, I’m surprised you’re so taken with her.”

        “She’s worth ten of you, Regina.” He snapped.

       “Michael.” Mrs Shelby smiled warmly. “Thank you for coming.”

        “It’s nice to see you again, love. I hope he’s treating you right.”

        “He is. Very Much.”

        “I took the liberty of bringing a wedding gift. It’s out the front.”

        “That’s very generous of you. Really, you didn’t have to.”

        “Yes, Michael. You didn’t have to.” Gina snapped before stalking off to the drawing room and loudly demanding a drink. Michael winked at Mrs Shelby, smirked at Tommy and left them to it. He turned to greet John and Tatiana and froze.

      “Fuck!” He fumed. “What the fuck are you wearing?!” He looked at John. “What the fuck is she wearing John-boy!”

      “Don’t worry, Thomas.” Tatiana purred sensually. “It’s not for you…or your wife.” She stepped around him, the thin scrap of material she called a dress clinging to her figure. “Tatiana Petrovna Shelby, delighted to make your acquaintance.” Mrs Shelby blushed and stepped closer to Tommy as the Russian duchess invaded her space. Grabbing her jaw, Tatiana kissed both of Mrs Shelby’s cheeks.”

       “She’d got a beautiful neck, Thomas. I can see why you like her.” She paused. “And that ring!” She snatched Mrs Shelby’s hand, admiring the sapphire encrusted in diamonds. She tutted. “I would have thought you’d learned your lesson with sapphires.”

       “They’re a particular favourite of my wife’s.”

       “Grace liked sapphires too.” Tatiana smirked, her dark eyes flickering madly in the candle-light. “Is Lilith here yet?” She changed the subject.

       “Is she the reason you’re dressed like a whore?” Tommy took a swig of the amber liquid in his tumbler. “You not bothered by this John?”

       “As long as I’m the only man she fucks, doesn’t matter to me.” He joked.

       “It’ll only ever be you Johnny.” Tatiana turned and kissed him.

       “Aye, John-boy. As long as you’re a Shelby, she’s not picky.”

       “What’s that supposed to mean?” Mrs Shelby asked, nervously glancing at Tommy.

       “It means that before she chose me, she was fucking Tommy…until she got bored of him.” John answered. 

         “Are we interupptin’ somethin���?” Came Uncle Charlie’s deep gravelly voice. He stopped short to shake Tommy’s hand, flanked by Johnny Doggs, Isiah and Curly. Curly smiled bashfully at Mrs Shelby and handed her some flowers. She blushed.

         “Thank you Curly.”

         “How’re you findin’ us so far, petal?” Johnny Doggs asked loudly.

         “So far I’m struggling to find someone who likes both of us. Polly, Aurora and Gina dislike me, everyone else has a gripe with Tommy.” Johnny Doggs barked out a laugh. “Welcome to the clan!”

          “Families.” Isiah scoffed. “Who’d have em?”

*****

Lilith Rose Shelby was the most beautiful creature Mrs Shelby had ever seen. So beautiful, that the air rocketed out of her lungs when she first saw her. They heard Jack first as he escorted her up the steps and held the door open for her. She looked like a goddess, draped in silk. Tommy was fascinated that Jack never once looked away from her. His only greeting to the new Mrs Shelby was a nod and a smirk. He sneered at Tommy before his attention gravitated back to his wife. She had the most beguiling dark eyes Mrs Shelby had ever seen. They were like pools of endless night. Lilith catapulted herself into Tommy, who embraced her tightly and inhaled her scent. Pomegranate and dark amber. She relaxed into him. Releasing her, Tommy cupped his baby sister’s face in his hands and looked at her for a moment.

     “You grow more and more beautiful every time I see you.” He smiled.

     “Brother.” She spoke quietly….and she sounded like magic. Soft and sensual. “You look well.” She beamed at him. And Mrs Shelby’s heart fluttered at her smile. Jack snaked a hand around Lilith’s waist and pulled her back against him.

      “Shelby.” Jack acknowledged. “Married again? You can’t seem to get em’ to stay, can ya?”

      “Nelson.” Tommy spoke evenly. “I can keep women just fine. In fact, I’ve never had to cross a continent and steal a woman away to make her mine. I suppose that means I have better luck than you.” Lilith covered Jack’s hand with her own.

     “Or,” She interrupted loudly, “It simply means that I was special enough that he had to travel all this way to find me.” Mrs Shelby watched, fascinated as both men melted at Lilith words. Jack kissed Lilith’s forehead and Tommy smiled.

    “Could be.” He agreed. Lilith stepped away from Jack and turned her attention to Mrs Shelby. All the noise fell away. She couldn’t hear anything. Apart from the sound of her blood pulsing through her at a rapid speed. She glanced at her husband, and watched his beautiful lips move as he spoke to Lilith and Jack. She watched Lilith study her, eyes raking over her in an unreadable manner. Mrs Shelby’s finger twitched as Lilith’s eyes pause over her engagement ring, her full soft lips quirking into a small smile for a moment before it vanishes. Mrs Shelby gasped, startled when Lilith unexpectedly stepped forward and smiled at her. Lilith took Mrs Shelby’s left hand in both of hers. Her thumb brushed over the sapphire. Her eyes pierced into Mrs Shelby’s hypnotically and Mrs Shelby found herself transfixed as Thomas brushed a hand up and down her back, comfortingly…. obliviously.

      “Sister.” Lilith tested the word on her tongue as she surveyed Mrs Shelby. “You’ll be good to him, yes?” She sounded so innocent. So angelic. Her eyes held no malice. Mrs Shelby stuttered.

      “Y-Yes. I shall try to be all that he deserves.”

Lilith beamed at her and released her hand. Mrs Shelby’s ring finger throbbed momentarily as she watched her fascinating sister turn and enter the drawing room with Jack. She saw through the reflection in the mirror as Polly embraced her niece tightly and was startled to see Lilith’s reflection gazing predatorily through the looking glass at her.

*****

Dinner was a fucking disaster. It had been nothing like she had hoped. Perhaps she was just projecting her own fears but it seemed that none of them liked her…. even the ones who appeared to. It seemed as though they were watching her every move with a pre-existing negative judgement. She was guilty to them, of something. The problem was she didn’t know what and she didn’t know how to change that. Tommy had enough to deal with, especially after Tatiana had goaded Jack into a row and she was swearing at him in Russian. Arthur had had way too much to drink. Scarlet was screaming at Tommy for something he’d done years ago and Luca was trying desperately to calm her down. She turned to look at Michael, who was in a heated discussion with Gina…and Aurora kept throwing her dirty looks.  In the end she’d left the table, claiming to check on dessert. She’d just found a quiet alcove to take a few moments when someone touched her shoulder. She jolted and turned to see Lilith.

    “Feeling overwhelmed?” Her voice was so soft, sympathy swirled in her onyx eyes.

    “A little.”

A lot. I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.

    “I know. We can be a lot to handle.” She looked out into the darkened garden. “Why don’t we go for a walk.” She suggested. “Take a moment to ourselves.” Mrs Shelby’s heart soared at the prospect of having a moment alone with someone who might actually like her and in doing so, might sway the opinion of the others. She nodded and took Lilith’s offered arm as the two of them stepped out into the cool autumn air.

It hadn’t been long since they had returned from their honeymoon and so Mrs Shelby hadn’t yet had time to explore the grounds of the Arrow House properly. In the dark murkiness of the evening she couldn’t really see where she was going and clutched on to Lilith’s bare arm a little closer for security. She smelt dizzyingly alluring. Away from all the smoke and whiskey the magic of her perfumed the air in a wonderful way. 

    “How did you meet my brother, if you don’t mind me asking?”

    “Da’s one of his employees at Shelby Company ltd. I met Tommy when I brought Da his lunch.”

    “How…. quaint.”

Mrs Shelby wasn’t paying attention. She was too bust staring at the purple love bites littering Lilith’s creamy throat. Lilith flushed and giggled when she noticed.

    “I’m sorry, I should have covered up more, Jack can get carried away some times.”

    “He’s very fond of you.”

    “And I, him.” Lilith patted Mrs Shelby’s hand. “I never expected to find Jack. But he’s my better half. As Heaven is Arthur’s and Luca is Scarlet’s. We were worried Thomas would never find someone….worthy.” Lilith stopped her movements and released Mrs Shelby’s arm. For the first time, Mrs Shelby noticed her surroundings. Lilith had brought her to the churchyard close to the Arrow House. She turned, only just able to see the outline of it looming in the moonlight. She shivered, looking back to Lilith who was now staring at something in front of her. “Thomas has very specific needs.” Her voice had lost all of its warmth. Mrs Shelby’s mouth ran dry as she read the names on the gravestones in front of her.

Grace Burgess Shelby.

Daughter, Mother, Beloved Wife.

Elizabeth Stark Shelby

Mother, wife, friend. Lost to childbirth.

Something rustled behind them. Lilith turned and smiled adoringly as Jack stepped out of the shadows. Mrs Shelby wondered how he had known where to find them. “You have to be a certain kind of person to survive in this family. Don’t you, my love?”

    “Ya got that right. It’s an honour to love a Shelby…to be prepared to kill and die for them.”

“Thomas needs a fighter.” Lilith reached out and caressed Mrs Shelby’s cheek. “You didn’t fight tonight. You fled, little mouse.” Lilith tutted and stepped closer, so close, Mrs Shelby could feel Lilith’s sweet, warm breath burning against her flesh. “How can I trust that you’ll fulfil him?” Lilith shook her head, looking sad, disappointed even. Jack brushed his wife’s hair off her shoulder, exposing her flesh. He pressed a kiss into the crook of her neck. Mrs Shelby watched Lilith relax a little. “You’re not good enough for him.” Lilith purred softly, Jack’s lips and tongue trailed down Lilith’s neck as she spoke. “Neither of them were, either.” She glanced to the gravestones behind her. “I was lucky with Lizzie; God took care of her. But I had to intervene with Grace.”

  “B-but we’re happy.” Mrs Shelby spluttered, fear creeping into her voice every second longer that she spent in Lilith’s presence.

   “For now. Until he realises that you’re not enough for him.” She paused, relishing in the look of despair on Mrs Shelby’s features. “Don’t worry. He’ll be happier than ever with Eva. They’ll be perfect together.” Jack hummed in agreement with his beloved and imprinted his teeth in a perfect love bite into her neck as she slid home a beautiful carved and somewhat bejewelled blade into Mrs Shelby’s sternum. Mrs Shelby gasped in pain, a sharp sound leaving her soft lips. “She’s earned him, you haven’t.” Lilith continued as she twisted the hilt, a horrible tearing noise was heard before Lilith let go. Mrs Shelby staggered back and fell back against the willow tree overhanging the makeshift graveyard.  Lilith looked down at her blood spattered fingers. Lifting them to her face she licked one, smearing her lips in the substance. Greedily, Jack took her fingers and painted his own mouth with them. Lilith spun in Jack’s arms, giggling and moaning as their lips fused, unbuckling his belt. She murmured something to him and he acquiesced without question, sitting and leaning back against Grace’s headstone. Lilith slipped her dress over her head until she was wearing barely anything in the coldness of the autumn night. She straddled Jack, kissing him deeply before sliding down onto him in the ghostly glow of the full moon.

Mrs Shelby heaved, opening her mouth. She tried to call for help but no sound emerged. Instead she found herself mute, only coughing and spluttering on the crimson blood as it tried to liberate itself from her mouth. Her vision grew blurry for a moment as tears gathered and obscured her sight.

And then she saw them.

The ghosts of Grace Burgess and Lizzie Stark, both completely drenched in blood and staring in horror, not at her but at Lilith and Jack, as he flipped his wife over and took her like an animal. Lizzie’s expression was melancholic. Her hair loose and wild, eyes ceaselessly spilling tears and her mouth agape in silent cries of agony. Her body had been slit open from chest to lower abdomen and still, even in death, she was bleeding. Grace stood beside her still in the gown she wore the night she was murdered. the bullet wound on her chest still wept even though she didn’t. Her face was curiously, disturbingly calm. The sapphire around her neck pulsed and throbbed and pulsed and throbbed. And suddenly Grace wasn’t looking at Lilith and Jack anymore, her pale grey eyes locking onto her second replacement. Mrs Shelby found herself growing shivery and yet unable to move, unable to scramble backwards as the sapphire whispered to her over and over some kind of spell in Romani. The curse…. she recalled hazily as she forced her limbs in an attempt to move. Tommy believed it had been cursed by the Russians. Mrs Shelby’s fingers dug into the soil as she pushed herself up into a sitting position. Every movement was excruciating in both pain and in effort. Her eyes fluttered closed in exhaustion and the spell of the sapphire seemed to sing louder and louder, it’s feminine voice echoing seductively in her ears. She realised it was coming not only from the necklace Grace’s ghost wore, but also from the ring on her engagement finger. Struggling, she tried desperately to remove it. But to no avail, it was as though it had fused to her flesh, strangling her finger.

Mrs Shelby’s eyes snapped open. Just in time to see the ghost of Grace stood over her.

“I should feel sorry for you.” Grace whispered. “You’re a victim of this family, just like me.” She paused, licking her discoloured corpse lips. Grace heard it too. She heard that it was Lilith’s voice cursing her inside the blue sapphires, not Tatiana’s. “And Tommy does love you.” There was a moment of silence. “But… I’ve come to realise something.” Grace leaned down and kissed Mrs Shelby’s lips, her ghostly fingers coming up to wrap around Mrs Shelby’s throat. “If I can’t have Tommy…” Grace murmured as she pulled back looking deeply into Mrs Shelby’s eyes.

Her grip tightened...and tightened…and tightened. Mrs Shelby choked and spluttered, her body convulsing. The last thing she saw was Lilith’s dark eyes staring at her over Jack’s shoulder, her nails digging into his back as he held her to him. And Grace’s hoarse voice looming over her.

“Then no one can.”  

[cljordan-imperium]

Bayou Witches - 3

Heaven Shelby belongs to @call-sign-shark “Follow.”  Mel grinned, biting her lower lip as she beckoned Heaven with all the fingers on her right hand, backing towards the staircase to the lower floor from the doorway of the blonde's bedroom.  The women had ended up spending the day shopping in the nearest small town with Mel’s mom and sister, both named Marie, having fun and exploring all the little shops.  Heaven had thought the place reminded her of something out of one of those holiday TV movies that came to life, where everyone was super friendly and all had the most amazing accents.  Not to mention there were plenty of places selling delicious smelling treats that tasted even better.  Now she wondered what her new friend was up to, there was no missing the impish grin that lit up the brunette’s face, all the way to her oceanic blue eyes.

“What?”  Heaven started to reach for her sandals, when Mel rushed forward to grab her hand and pull her forward before she could. 

“Nope.  Tonight is barefoot.”  Mel’s grin grew.  “I promise you don’t have to worry about delicate feet at all.”

“Meeeelll…”  Heaven drew out her name as she started to follow, laughing and wondering what was in store.  

“Adoption ceremony time.”  Mel spun, her patchwork skirt flaring out in a wide circle around her as she did.  

“I’m sorry, what?” Heaven’s eyes went wide as Marie suddenly seemed to appear from nowhere and take one of her hands.

“You are now a bayou witch, child.  Come and meet your ancestors.  They have been waiting a long time for you to show up.”  Marie’s heavy Creole French accent made her words sound rich and aristocratic.  Her face though, it showed all the love a mother could have for a child as she gazed at Heaven and placed a kiss on her cheek.  “It is time you meet all of your family.”

Heaven watched Mel almost bound down the steps of the interior of the mansion with child-like enthusiasm, while Marie gently led her.  Marie II was a the bottom of the stairs waiting for her sister.  A tight hug was exchanged before Francois and Dontanion also stepped into view, hugs once more being exchanged.  Then the two sisters scampered off like children towards the back of the house.

“Do not worry about Arthur, he is in Alexander and Cade’s capable hands for the evening.  They are very familiar with how important family ceremonies are.”  Francois offered his arm to his new little sister.  The last time there was a new female LaVeau had been the birth of Melania.  They were rare.  Heaven would be the only adoption, and she would be just as loved as those born into the bloodline.

“Your brothers will escort you to the ceremony, child.  Welcome home, Heaven LaVeau-Shelby.  You will always have family in the Louisiana bayou.”  Marie kissed both Heaven’s cheeks before leaving her in Dontanion and Francois’ care.  She, like her daughters headed for the back of the mansion.

“Tonight, you will meet aunties, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews within the line of the LaVeaus.  Then you’ll meet the ancestors.  No one tonight will mean you harm. We perform the same ceremony when there is a birth only then the baby is carried by its parents, you get escorts.” Dontanion explained in his accent that mirrored his mother’s.

Heaven was led across the back lawn of the mansion towards the bayou.  She could see a golden glow within the cypress trees that hung with Spanish moss and the low mangroves that were dotted among them.  As they drew nearer, she could hear the beat of the drums, and words in a language that she didn’t understand.  The closer they got, it was no longer discernible whether the singing was coming from in front of them, or from all around them.  It was as if the ancient cypress were singing themselves, the drumming coming from inside them.  The firelight made the shadows cast by the spanish moss to make the trees look alive.  It was like the entire bayou was welcoming Heaven home, and in a way it was.

Finally, they were close enough that Heaven could see the circle.  In the center was a bonfire, the wood piled so it was highest in the center.  Around that danced all of the females of the family.  Long skirts that brushed the ground, and like Melania’s, they all flared out when they spun.  Behind them were the males and the drums of all kinds.  Some were small enough to be carried, while others had to be placed and the drummer stood behind.  It was a sight unlike anything that Heaven had ever seen before.

When the three reached the edge of the firelight, everyone fell silent.  Marie came to the front, her rosary in one hand, her small staff with a silver head in the form of Baron Samedi in the other.  Twirling her rosary and moving the staff in a rhythm, she began to do a chant in the same language that Heaven had heard as they’d approached.  One of the drummers with a drum came forward to match the rhythm that she was indicating.  After two times through whatever incantation that Marie was doing, the other women and girls joined in.  There was also an intricate kind of line dance that the women did as they moved around the fire, making sure their skirts did not get too close to it. It started slow at first, then slowly began to increase in speed, but the rhythm stayed the same.

As Heaven watched and listened to the beautiful song, she started to notice what she thought were shadows moving across the waters of the bayou at first.  Later, she realized that it was the spirits coming out of the bayou and joining in the movements with the members of the LaVeau family. The spirits each carried a candle, a yellow flame atop each one.  Their voices echoed like soft breezes through the leaves of the trees as they joined in with the living LaVeaus.  Over 300 years of family came together to welcome their newest member to the fold.  The love almost palpable in the air as the members of the family, both living and passed on, now surrounding her in a circle.  It was a ritual that had been performed countless times over the centuries and would be performed  countless more in the future.

See blood did not make one a LaVeau, it was more than that.  Amongst those, living and dead, that were in  the bayou that night, there was an energy, a presence, in the very soul, the very being, that tied them all together.  It was a bond that even death could not break and  distance could not thin.  Time did not diminish, and the more members that came into the fold, the greater it grew.  Love is what made one a LaVeau and once you were one, all of those who came before and after accepted you without hesitation and loved without reservation.  Never, no matter where you were in the world, would you walk alone, because your ancestors would walk alongside you.  Tonight, Heaven became a LaVeau, and forever more she would be one and get to experience everything that came along with it.

@blind-the-winds @saltysupercomputer @pheita @writingmaidenwarrior @dreaminggoblin @toribookworm22 @korblez @aziz-reads @evita-shelby @call-sign-shark @cillmequick @raincoffeeandfandoms @spookyceph

[peakyswritings]

Referring to what you said about Nina loving to hang out with Heaven, I got really curious. Of course they would be Tommy’s bane, and I am convinced Heaven would sincerely adore Nina’s fierce temper and rebellion. However, taking into account that Heaven is cold, blunt, often pass off insensitive and is an actual murderer would she still want to get close to her? What would she think about her? (Hope it doesn’t sound egocentric, no worry I’ll do a realistic and long-ass analysis about what Heaven would think about Nina 🤭)

Hi Shark! It doesn’t sound egocentric at all, don’t worry! OCs are part of the fandom and meant to be shared, they become actual characters that we grow to love, and it’s genuinely fun to imagine them interact with each other. It’s like building our own little world

Now to answer your question - Nina is quite a wary person, she doesn’t trust people easily, and she has to figure them out before opening up to them. But at the same time, she follows her instincts a lot, and she’s rarely wrong. If she senses a red flag, she’s right 9 times out of 10. As strange as it might sound, she doesn’t sense a red flag with Heaven - but bear with me, I’ll try to unravel the reason as clearly as I can, but I need some background first.

Like with all people, Nina would be wary at first. She’d notice of course that there’s something going on with Heaven, but despite the eerie vibes and the coldness, she wouldn’t perceive her as a bad person. Her eeriness wouldn’t scare her, quite the contrary, she’d be kinda fascinated by it. As for the coldness, she wouldn’t be too fazed - Nina herself has an ever-present frown on her face and looks rather unapproachable. And as for the bluntness - Nina always appreciated sincerity anyway. I think she’d also be really curious, although discreet, and once she’s established that she’s fine overall, she’d grow to actually like her. She’d like the way she carries herself, her strong character and the way she doesn’t take shit from anyone. I feel like Nina would have a strong feeling of respect towards her.

As for the murder part - she wouldn’t look down on Heaven for being a murderer, and it wouldn’t scare her. She grew up in a violent environment: she saw violence in the streets of the village, she saw it on women, on men - innocent and guilty, for all sorts of reasons. Sexism, power, war (when starving people during the war were literally fighting for basic survival supplies). Not to mention that her own family is a family of murderers after all, they’re in the Mafia, and even though they’ve always tried to keep her out of this stuff because she’s a woman, she’s well aware of what they do. Tommy kills people as well, she knows it. And they might be even worse than Heaven to some extent, since they kill out of personal interest, cause they benefit from it. She doesn’t condone murder in any way, but she’s coherent in that sense: she can’t excuse Tommy and her family and blame Heaven. But even though Nina is not a stranger to violence and is used to it in some sense, it doesn’t mean she’s indifferent to it. So Heaven’s ability to kill in cold blood and find some sort of “enjoyment” in it - as you’ve showed in the moodboard - would leave her perplexed, she wouldn’t really understand it and THAT might put her off. But again, she wouldn’t judge, because Heaven’s traumatised. But this aspect is something I’m analysing below cause I need a separate paragraph for that ⬇️⬇️

Now that the general stuff has been laid out, I’m going a bit into the depth of it. As I’ve said in a few occasions, Nina has a huge level of empathy and is extremely sensitive, even though she never shows that side of her as she perceives it as a weakness. But it leads her to be more understanding of people’s feeling and motives. And Heaven’s story is heartbreaking. She didn’t murder because she woke up one day and decided so, but because her family has been butchered. She watched her mother and sister burn at the stake - which is atrocious - and her father hang, and she was almost executed herself. And she was a kid. Everyone would go crazy after going through something like that. And Nina’s heart breaks for the little girl who so brutally found herself all alone in the world. So not only she doesn’t judge her at all for what she did, but she also admires her for even surviving something like that. And correct me if I’m wrong, but as I’ve come to understand Heaven kills when “triggered” (her family’s murderers, Charlie’s abductors, etc.) - we don’t see her going around and kill people just like that. And that’s further proof for Nina that she’s not bad at heart.

And lastly, Nina kinda understands how being desperate can lead to violence - she experienced it, although on a much smaller scale, when she pointed a knife at Stefano’s throat at the age of seventeen. So, again, she can’t find it in herself to judge Heaven.

It’s safe to conclude that Nina would be Heaven’s apologist n.1. To lighten up the mood, kinda like in that TikTok trend, the one that goes “What about the people he murdered?” “What murdaaa?”

And let’s be honest the little shit that is Nina would be really happy to have a partner in her mission of giving Tommy an headache

Thank you so much for the question, Shark! This was really fun and interesting to do🤍

Heaven is reader in Shark’s series Heaven in your eyes

Nina is the OC from my series Heart, Body and Soul

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven in Your Eyes || Tommy Shelby x You

Summary: For safety purpose and following Arthur's death, you are forced to live under your enemy and unforgiving brother-in-law's roof. It's only you and Tommy between the dreadful walls of Arrow house where grief, hatred, and attraction blend.

some musical background to read + the song that inspired it.

Words: 6.5k

TW: angst, rocky dynamic, pinning, sexual tension, graphic description of violence, strangulation, very very strong sexual innuendos, mention of blood, murder and grief, alteration of canon events + time.

Notes:

✞ Heaven in Your Eyes is an Arthur Shelby story but considering what happens to him in this part of S4, this chapter and the next one will be entirely focused on Reader/Heaven's relationship with Tommy.

✞ This is chapter 17 of the Arthur Shelby x You series Heaven in Your Eyes. Each chapter can be read as stand-alone.

PREVIOUS || Masterlist || NEXT PART

Your pale aquamarine eyes opened to an unfamiliar ceiling, far too different from the ceiling of your house in Watery Lane. The soft glow of morning light filtered through the dark and heavy curtains of the guest bedroom that was bathed in warm shadows. The bedding was too smooth, giving you the unpleasant impression that the mattress was slowly but surely swallowing you whole. As for the room itself, it was too silent, with no trace of the reassuring sounds or smells of your own home, like the floral fragrance of the lily of the valley perfume Arthur sprayed on your pillow each night before sleeping, fully aware that it reminded you of your mother.

A little cry escaped your lips when you turned your head towards the half-hidden window; its blinding light making your head throbbed painfully. You tried to move but your whole body ached, like a cruel and dull echo of the chaos that had ripped your world apart the night before. The chaos who took Arthur, your sweet Arthur, from you.

 Arthur.  With your heart pounding in your chest to the rhythm of invisible drums, you sat up – certainly a bit too violently. As the room spun around you, you clawed the fabric of the blanket not to fall back on the bed. Breathe, Hev. Just breathe, you told yourself. Exhaling slowly through your nostrils, you waited a bit until the dizziness and nausea became bearable and only then did you proceed to scan your surroundings. The place you had woken up in was a spacious bedroom, impeccably furnished yet so sparsely decorated that it ended up cold and impersonal. Just like a furniture store. But despite the unfamiliar setting, the peculiar smell of wood and faint traces of cigarette smoke that lingered in the air rung a bell. You recognized the man who owned it immediately.

Arrow House?

Tommy.

The memories violently surged back. The images of Arthur’s blood, the frenzied struggled to save him, the stabbing of a first Italian, then the murder of another, all of this leading to the moment you had lost consciousness. What the hell happened after? Why were you in Arrow House? Where was Arthur? Questions buzzed in your mind like a hive of furious hornets crashing against your skull. Through the fog, you thought you remembered Thomas’ low voice and arms wrapping you just before you fainted, but you weren’t sure – so came the necessity of finding out. Your sly hands shook as you scrambled out of the bed, even though the cold surface of the floor managed to ground you when your feet touched its polished wood.

You needed to find Tommy and ask for an explanation – or excavate that same explanation from him by using sheer strength and torture if you had to. Yes, you needed to know if Arthur made it. If he was safe, because he had to be safe after everything you did. He had to be safe, or else what would be left of you beside an empty shell? Wasting no time, you rushed out of the room like a fury without minding your poor state. In fact, your legs wobbled beneath your weight as you pushed the door open and made your way through the cool hallway, head spinning with disorientation. For sure, staying in bed would have been the best option but, as was the case that night you fled from your little town in the mountains, a combination of rage and panic controlled you. You braced yourself against the wall, your fingers curling into the wood and tapestry for balance. Each meters reached took a disproportionate amount of effort, each step felt unsteady. Your determination might be spotless, but your body betrayed as you swayed, to the extent that you careened into the wall with a dull thud from time to time. And when it weren’t the walls, it was the uneven carpet that made you almost trip. That damn corridor seemed endless, but the more you walked the sharper the scent of Tommy’s tobacco reached your senses and lifted the haze you were embedded in.

Little King Shelby was there.

That sole observation swept away the remnant of sickness you felt, your energy all regained as your steps, usually light and ethereal, echoed through the expensive house of Arrow house – a sumptuous mansion whose beauty only equaled its claustrophobic and maddening emptiness. The grand, austere décor loomed all around you in rich, dark wood paneling, chandeliers and old paintings staring from their frames. Ironically enough, it wasn’t the old and slightly obscure ones that made you feel uncomfortable, but rather Grace’s gigantic portrait. She was overhanging the house, her piercing blue eyes seemingly glistening in the sunlight and judging your every move.  Silently asking you what the hell you were doing in her home. A shiver ran down your spine, as if you could sense her presence, heavy and utterly sad, sipping through all the walls.  Arrow House might carry a distinct scent of polished wood and smoke, but beneath it lingered something as heavy as the Grace’s portrait – sorrow. It clung to the air like a haunting memory, subtle but inescapable, much like what Tommy himself hid under his expensive after-shave.

Finally, you reached the heavy double doors of Tommy’s office, your heart a relentless thud in your tight chest. Usually, little King Shelby despised being disturbed when he was in his study but you couldn’t care less considering the emergency of the situation – and you wouldn’t have cared in a more casual one. Without the slightest hesitation, you threw the doors open and your voice, already sharp, resounded in the room like a tigress’ roar.

“Where is he?” You demanded, as your pale iris, which were burning with Hell’s fire, surveyed the room until they found Tommy behind his desk.  His ice-cold stare met yours with a calm that only pushed you further to the edge of fury, “Where is Arthur?!”

The blue-eyed demon might have many flaws, but stupidity wasn’t one. He knew you would make a mess when you woke up so he had spent the last few hours patiently waiting for the chaos to storm, a glass of whiskey for sole companion to brace your thunder. He let out a sigh and reached for that same glass, which had remained untouched on his desk until now. After a sip, he leaned back on his chair, his eyes wandering on you as if he was calculating every possible outcome of your conversation.

Then only he spoke.

“Heaven, would you calm down ay?” He said with a smooth yet firm voice that carried an irking placidity. How could he be so serene after his brother got attacked and butchered? Was it the same Tommy who, overwhelmed with emotions you recalled, tried to help you last night? Or was he some kind of evil twin, who locked up his good brother somewhere in Arrow House most of the time?

“Don’t tell me to calm down!”  You snapped, walking toward him with your first clenched and stopping in front of his desk while he was still sitting, “After everything that happened last night, I wake up here and you think you can just sit there and act like this is normal? Tell me where Arthur is now.” You spat, your words like a winter blizzard.

Tommy stubbed his cigarette in the crystal ashtray that was on his deck before he stood, sky-blue eyes narrowed as he moved around slowly around the furniture. Your whole little body tense when he approached, his sole presence irking you.

“Arthur…” He started, his voice drawling, “Had to make a quick exit. We had to make him disappear for his own safety.”  His statement was heavy with the implications of danger and truth he didn’t wish to fully reveal. Tommy and his little secrets, you thought bitterly. Your jaw clenched, your icy eyes narrowing as you tried to swallow your burning fury in favor of a cold, quiet, anger.

“Disappear? Is he alive? Where is he?”

“I’m afraid I can’t give you any more information.”

The room fell silent, the weight of his words pressing on you. Was he serious? Momentarily stunned by the audacity of the Peaky Blinders’ boss, you blinked. He couldn’t be serious.

“And I’m just supposed to accept that dumb answer? After everything I went through trying to save him?”

Tommy moistened quickly his lips with the tip of his pink tongue, his face an unreadable mask. Still, you could see through it, and you knew he was searching for his words, “It’s not about accepting or not. We suggested the idea to him, and he agreed. Arthur made his choice – he’s lying low, and right now, that’s the best place for him.”

A slap across your face would have been less painful that what he was saying. Trembling with frustration, you shoved your fist into his chest. Tommy didn’t move nor show any hint of paint. If anything, he just let you lash out at him.

 “So what—you’re just hiding him? Keeping him locked away while I’m left in the dark?”

“I’m not hiding him. Not keeping him from you. He’s the one who decided to leave.”  

“You’re lying. That’s just another of your fucked up games.” You hissed, plump lips curling and revealing your sharp canine teeth you dreamt of sinking into your brother-in-law’s throat.

Arthur had left. Without saying anything. Without a fucking warning. Without a fucking 'hi, I'm alive love". You couldn't believe it.

Tommy shook his head, cold but resolute, “I’m not playing. There are people out there looking for him. And if they know you’re alone and vulnerable, those same people will come after you, too.”

Another blow to his chest. The charming gangster closed his eyes a few seconds and exhaled loudly through his nose to swallow the pain.

“Go fuck yourself! I’m going to find him and murder those bastards myself!”

When Tommy reopened his eyes, his large and warm hand grabbed your wrist suddenly in mid-action and kept you from punching his strong chest again.

“Do you think Arthur would want you to risk your life? Do you think I’d let you go on a rampage with my niece or nephew in your belly?”

Your breath suddenly caught, the mention of your pregnancy striking a far too sensitive nerve. With your eyes wide-opened in surprise, you studied Tommy with an expression of pure shock on your seraphic face. How could he possibly know about the baby?

“You nearly lost that kid,” Tommy’s intense gaze softened as he continued, his husky voice dropping lower and his grip loosening around your frail wrist.

“How?” You whispered, your lower lip trembling.

“Polly is not the only one who can sense things eh,” Apart from being gifted with animals, Tommy had a sensibility you had never expected. He had known about the baby the same day you had talked to him about keeping Arthur busy during their meeting. It was the way you touched your belly sometimes, the way you had acted more feral than usually – which he hadn’t thought possible, “But that’s not the point. If you leave, you’ll risk everything. Arthur wants you safe, and right now safe means staying here.”

The air between you grew thick with desperation and frustration. You gritted your teeth so harshly you wouldn’t have been surprised if they would all broken, but it was the only thing that helped you biting down the urge to scream.

“So, you’re telling me I have no other choice than stay?” Your voice wasn’t loud, but its defiance and hatred cut as deep as the razor blades he kept in his cap. To be fair, the fact he talked about the baby made you falter more than you’d wish to admit. Your shoulders slumped in reluctant defeat.

“Yes,” Tommy said simply, leaving no room for argument, “You stay here, under my roof, until this fucking mess is sorted out and until it’s safe for both you and the baby. I don’t expect you to like it, but you just have to accept that situation.”  He finally released your wrist in a surprisingly soft gesture – the fire of your fury had been so bright you had completely forgotten that Tommy had been holding you during your entire exchange. And now that he had stepped back, you realized that his touch had been grounding, and you found yourself missing it.

“It will be temporary, I promise.”  He added, heading back to his office to grab his whiskey and gulp it down. The glass chimed when he put it back on the wooden surface.

Your fruity lips pressed into a tight line, your gaze falling to the floor. That burning anger that had fueled you earlier felt dulled, swallowed by exhaustion and creeping darkness settling deep in within the marrow of your bones. As much as you wanted to fight, to demand answers and storm out of the cage Arrow House was, you knew deep down that Little King Shelby was right. The stakes were too high and your strength, for once, too fragile. This was with reluctance and resignation that you looked up to meet Tommy’s eyes.

“Fine,” You muttered, “But don’t think this means I trust you.”

“It wouldn’t have crossed my mind.”  Tommy made a little tilt with his head while raising one brow, “So you’ll stay ay?”

“Hm. But I’ll get the fuck out of here whenever it will be safer. ”

A little glint of something — approval? Satisfaction? — flickered briefly in his eyes, “As long as you respect the terms of this arrangement, that’s all that matters, Devil.”

With a final, deathly glance, you turned on your heels and left the room, feeling the burn of his scorching gaze on your back. Staying with him was an awful idea, but for now you had no choice but to play along.

To abide by the rules he would set.

The fire flickered low in Arrow House’s main yet darkened living room, the dancing flames casting their undulating shadows along the wooden walls. Wrapped in Arthur’s long coat, you sat curled up in the armchair closest to the fire in a vain attempt to warm your cold soul up. A glass of whiskey was in your small hands, barely tasted. There was exquisite alcohol here, at least. To be honest, you hadn’t planned on staying up this late but killing time here was better than tossing and turning in bed, feeling near suffocating at the sensation of the bedsheet around you. A little sigh escaped your plump lips, whose skin had been picked at until you had bled at the bottom right. Sleep had been quite elusive ever since Arthur’s death – or rather, absence. A deliberate absence that gnawed at you, leaving you restless and hollow the same way you did after the tragedy that took your family from you on a cold October night.  The same way it did when you had left your former fiancé.

Another chill ran down your spine as the events that brought you to Arthur and what followed played in your head like a broken record: you felt like only a few days had passed from your unexpected encounter in the church to the awful evening during which you had held your husband bloodied and limp body. And with the memories came an even more aching revelation: all the people around you always ended up dead or hurt in the end, whether you pulled the trigger or not.

At this moment you would have given everything just to switch your brain off and let someone handle the rest. Everything to be in Amos’ reassuring arms, his tender velvet voice whispering in your ear that everything was going to be fine.

A thought that occurred for the second time, the first appearing when you danced with Luca Changretta.

The door suddenly creaked, the darkness of Arrow House’s corridor subsiding as Tommy appeared in the orange light with an unlit cigarette between his fingers. His steps were heavy and his mesmerizing turquoise eyes slightly glazed. As was always the case when you breathed the same air as this asshole, your body tense entirely, every muscle ready to pounce on him and shred him to piece. However, you only raised your head, your pale eyes falling on his face. What you saw made you frown: he was well into a drink himself, judging by the loose expression he wore and the very faint flush on his salient cheekbones.

Despite being intoxicated, the sharpness in his gaze didn’t dull when he spotted you by the fire. If anything, it intensified.

Ah! It was still the same old and hateful Thomas Shelby you knew.

“Couldn’t stay in your room, could you?” You muttered, your tone soft but laced with a mix of sarcasm and intrigue as the man approached. Tommy didn’t answer though and sunk onto the couch opposite you.

“This is my house, remember?” He retorted, husky voice almost making the air rumble around him. A few days had passed since you argued in his office. A few days during which you mainly stayed locked up in the room, stubbornly sulking.

“And believe me, I’m counting down the hours until I can leave it,” He met his gaze when you finished speaking but, as surprising as it was, Tommy didn’t find defiance in your eyes. Only fatigue. For once, the insolent brat you usually were seemed too exhausted to bite. "I’d rather not be here, but we don’t always have the choice.” You had wanted to add that the choice was scarce when Tommy Shelby was around, but you didn’t. Not only would it be pointless, but you weren’t in the mood to fight.

A bitter laugh escaped his lips, “You’re right. Just like I didn’t have a choice when Arthur took you in, dragging all the trouble that followed,” He paused, attentively studying how your seraphic traits expressed your spitefulness at his words, then pointed at you with his finger “Thought you were above it all, didn’t you?”

“Above what?”

“Above everything. Untouchable. But here we are. Both haunted.”

Your grip tightened on your glass. So strongly you almost snapped it. “Don’t you dare blame me for what happened to him, Thomas. I know you’re used to do so but don’t fucking do it this time.” You warned.

Tommy’s blue eyes darkened as he looked away, shaking his head as if he had just remembered something awfully painful. The same thing that was plaguing your dreams: Arthur and his almost severed throat, “I don’t blame you for that – not for the attack nor for trying to save him.” He admitted. Wow, Tommy not blaming you for something was unexpected!

The gangster sighed and finally brought the cigarette to his mouth, rolling the filter onto his lower lip first before lighting it. Then, he threw the lighter on the small table near him and took a long drag. You carefully observed him all the while, afraid he would jump at your throat if you ought to lose your focus for one microsecond, “But it doesn’t change what came after, does it? You’ve done nothing but bring trouble to me. To all of us.”  He added with a hoarse voice, punctuating his sentence by blowing the smoke noisily. His voice didn’t carry the slightest aggressiveness though, only exhaustion. Yes, you were both drained by this fucking life.

Your jaw clenched, his word cutting deep. “I tried to save him with everything I had, Thomas. I’ve always tried to do my best for this family. Tried my best to make it work. But you –” You sneered, “You’re so determined to hate me that you won’t see it.”

Tommy snorted, the ghost of a desperate smile floated on his lips before it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. The look in his eyes was hard as steel, unyielding, but utterly melancholic. “Save him? Yes, it’s true, but you think that changes a thing? He was better off with you from the start.”

Things were always like this with Tommy. Even though you told yourself that you weren’t going to give in to your anger, the blue-eyed demon always knew which buttons to push to annihilate your self-control. And even if you didn’t want to play his twisted game, you always ended up getting pulled in. Your heart pounded in your tight chest, anger sparking beneath grief and the pain. Driven by a furious rage only he could fuel, you stood up from the armchair, Arthur’s black coat falling on the floor as you moved. “You don’t get to stand there and act like you know what is best for him. You only know what’s convenient for you. It’s always about you, innit?”

Following your movement, Tommy also got up from the couch to face you, cigarette hanging from his mouth and icy turquoise eyes burning fiercely. “What do you think you know about about me? Or about Arthur, for that matter?”

“About Arthur? Everything. About you? More than I needed to know.”  Your body moved instinctively, taking a step closer to him in utter defiance. “You really think you’re that unfathomable, do you? You think that no one except Thomas Shelby can understand what’s happening in this twisted and scheming mind of him, right?  No, let me correct my mistake, even you cannot understand yourself.”  Trying to calm down sheer anger and the acid you were made of, you took a quick gulp of whisky from your glass before putting it on the table.  Once the glass left your mouth, your lips curled in a mean smirk.

“I know the man you are because my former fiancé was cut from the same cloth. An egocentric criminal with bulging ambition, a far too high sense of self esteem and a greed beyond words. A man who dragged his loved ones down with him without even realizing it. But Tom, you are a poison. And even with good intentions and genuine love, everything you touch ends up rotting. Just like you.”

And just like him.

Your voice sounded like an angelic lilt as you spoke, but there was something horrifying in its softness: a belittling tenderness that was only aimed at mocking and hurting.

Tommy’s jaw clenched, dimples digging in his already sharp cheeks. Bitter, he stubbed his cigarette against the couch’s armrest and threw it right onto the carpet, not minding the damage he just did. For fuck’s sake, he had enough money to buy a new one. Even a new mansion had he wanted to.The tension that was floating in the room became thicker, intoxicating, as your cutting remarks threw sparks into the gasoline of his soul. One could even wonder if the crackling sound of the fire really came from the hearth or if they were made by the flames of your hatred. 

The gangster didn’t reply, yet his eyes were locked with yours, speaking a silent challenge none of you was willing to back down from. He might have remained mute, but his body didn’t. All of sudden, he walked closer to you, reducing the distance step by step until he stood in front of you only from a few inches, fierce and unafraid. He was so close that you could feel the warmth of his bare chest radiating off him, gently warming up your frozen skin without even touching it. The musky scent of his after shave, worn off by the shower but still strong enough for you to catch its fragrances, mixed with his whiskey breath.

“You think I’m scared of you?” You whispered only for him to hear, light tremor of defiance in your voice. “Be careful Thomas, you know I could kill you right here right now.”  You spat, the warm fire reflecting its dim light against the pearly white enamel of your sharp canine teeth and making your ivory mane shine like moonlight.

“It’s Tommy.” He corrected. The way you kept using his full name was starting to get on his nerves, especially after how delicate his nickname had sounded, melting on your tongue like sugar, the day you threw yourself in his arms, mourning John. Crying real tears and not staged ones.

“No, it’s Thomas. You said it yourself years ago.”  You cut him, the name as sharp as the shards of a broken mirror, whose cracked surface reflected Tommy on one side, and your own being on the other, like two perfectly intricated parts of the same puzzle.

A short silence hovered above the room, sharing the space with the electric air as you glared at each other, waiting for the next unpredictable move the other could make.

The blue-eyed demon didn’t bother picking up your little taunt, but rather went on with what you said just before, “Kill me…” He repeated, leaning over you. His void pupils relished every trait of your doll face, “That’s what you want ay?”  Tommy’s voice was dark and daring, but it held a flicker of something different. Something more dangerous. As he spoke, his husky and hushed tone feeding the electric tension, you both stood locked in that heated moment, your breaths mingling in the space between you. Why were you realizing how close you were, both invading each other’s private space, only now? 

This time, Tommy’s expression shifted again and before you could react, he reached for you, his strong calloused hands wrapped around your wrists with a firm yet tender grip and pulled you even closer. “Do it”, he urged in a low growl as he guided your hands around his neck. “Show me how strong you really are without that evil magic of yours...”

Your heart raced, missing a vertiginous beat, as your sly fingers curled instinctively around the hard line of his throat. There was a thrill in the danger, a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins when you felt the steady thump of his pulse under the soft pulp of your thumb, a reminder that Tommy Shelby was indeed a mortal man. Without control of any sort, your eyes fell on his throat, which was a striking canvas of both strength and vulnerability, the sinewy muscles taut beneath his smooth, pale skin. The very, very thin layer of sweat which covered him glistened under the dim light, attracting your attention even more on the angular lines of his jaw. Your breath stopped for a few seconds when you noticed how the coolness of his complexions contrasted sharply with the heat that was radiating off him.  Tommy Shelby was a walking paradox, as cold as ice, as hot as fire. Just like you.

With a surge of anger, you tightened your hold and let your nails dig into his skin. “You think this is a game?”

“Life ain’t nothing but a cruel game, Devil” he replied with a hitching breath and a light smirk dancing on his seductive lips as he leaned more into your grip. The gangster exuded something primal you couldn’t really describe. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too—the tension, the way we keep pushing each other.”

Your faces were now inches apart, heat pooling in your body and overwhelming you.

 “You’re insane,” you hissed, a tremor of uncertainty creeping into your voice despite your bravado. You had tried to hide it but it was vain and you knew it didn’t go unnoticed.

“And yet here we are,” he murmured, his growling voice turning into a whisper that sent shivers down your spine. A raspy lilt that made all fibers of your being vibrate like a piano’s strings during a symphony of chaos and desire. Caught off guards by the intensity of his gaze, your grip faltered just a moment before your thumb pressed a bit more on his windpipe. The noise his breath made as well as the way he sharply sucked in for air left no doubt on the power of your grip – you were slowly but surely squeezing the air out of him and, this time, you didn’t need any kind of magic to do so. It made the whole act even more exciting. Suffocatingly intense. 

At this point, you were convinced that the black-haired gangster, with his intoxicating smell of whiskey, cigarettes, leather and expensive after shave, would back up but he did quite the opposite. Leaning forwards, his lips brushed against your ear with a tenderness you didn’t suspect he possessed. Another shiver ran through you, and you hated him even more for enabling this reaction. “Harder…” He breathed, voice already muffled, “ Y—You want this as much as I—I do.”

In that moment, the storm of your usually muffled emotions collided. Rage, desire, fear, hatred, loneliness, doubts, lust, all intertwined with the numbing effect of alcohol, blurred the line between Tommy and you even further.

“Harder, like your former fiancé loved, right?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck me your – yourself ay.”

Lost in the intensity of everything, you felt the control slipping from your fingertip along with the will of fighting him. Tommy Shelby was sliding under your skin and the undeniable urge to give in was too much for you to resist. And somehow, you didn’t want to. What he made you feel was too similar to what you had lost after slashing Amos’ face and running away the day of your wedding.

This was why your grip suddenly tightened around him, your slow choking turning into the verge of deadly strangulation. In reply, Tommy let out a muffled moan. His strong hands, scarred by murder, grabbed your frail hips. So frail he felt like he could crush them easily and break you in half.

Your eyes maybe whole, But the story I'm told is your heart is as black as night.

As the room started to dangerously spin around him, the lack of oxygen building up gradually, the necessity of words faded away. Giving in, you leaned too and gently rubbed your cheek against your brother-in-law’s while still strangling him. Your lashes fluttered at the silky sensation of his perfectly shaved skin, your nerves sparkling with sensations at the lines of his sharp facial bones. His fire skin against the frost that constituted yours was ecstatic. Another little husky yet muffled moan echoed in the living room, his touch feeling as good as a shot of heroin and as brutal as getting crushed by a train. 

“Hev—” Tommy’s muscular body suddenly dropped to its knees, unable to hold his weight anymore.  At first you thought he would finally give up and admit he couldn’t take it anymore but the black-haired gangster didn’t. His rough hands didn’t leave your waist but rather pulled you closer, as if he couldn’t bear a single inch standing between you. The two turquoise gems that he called eyes locked onto yours — unfaltering and desperate. Tommy exhaled a shaky breath and surrendered himself fully to your touch. You wanted to kill him? So be it, he thought.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, fascinated for he looked so weak, so… willingly at your mercy that everything around you blurred, your focus only on him. Him and his freckles. Him and the too-perfect traits of his face from his adorable nose to his slightly chapped lips. Him and the sight of what you could be together.

Your lips maybe sweet such that I can't compete, But your heart is as black as night.

A far away cry resounded in the back of your head, pleading you to put a stop to this folly, but you were far too embedded in a primal trance to mind it. 

 Tommy’s head lowered until his cheek pressed against your belly, his arms snaking around your waist in an intimate, blazing embrace. And just like that it wasn’t a fight anymore; it was something else. The same thing you were both desperately pushing away for years — what fueled the vitriol of his hatred. For him and his twisted and tired mind, your deadly hands around his throat weren’t hurting him anymore, they were granting him a momentary relief from his untamable demons. The dirt couldn’t touch him here, your seraphic yet murderous aura keeping it from burying him alive. You strangled him, but he felt like he had never breathed this freely for a long, very long time. 

Soon the static hug turned into a sensual one, with Tommy softly rocking you in a way so soothing that you couldn’t help but bit your juicy lower lip. For a moment you both stayed like that, your body petrified and your hands still squeezing the air out of him while his scorching breath fanned over your belly when he moaned, sipping through the thin fabric of your silk nightgown. It was only after a while that all of Tommy’s energy fled from him. Now he hed had reached his limits. You felt the gangster waver, then he fell back onto the living room floor, dragging you along in his fall. You simply followed, letting him pull you on top to make you straddle him. A firework exploded into you when your hips collided together, your beings only separated by the thin layer of your lace thong and the fabric of his trousers. 

I don't know why it came along at such a perfect time, But if I let you hang around I'm bound to lose my mind.

Beneath you, Tommy’s body was entirely tensed, his breath hitching in difficulty, mouth gasping for air and a vein on his forehead pumping blood furiously. Yet, his hypnotic turquoise eyes didn’t waver from you except occasionally when he rolled them back in pure ecstasy. You shut your eyes closed, squeezing them very tight, unable to hold his gaze anymore when his hips started to sensually roll under you, the feeling of his hard length making you gasp.

“Tom… No.” You thought you had spoken with a stern tone but your voice had been nothing but a whisper that melted in a moan and, consequently, he didn’t stop. Quite the opposite, he kept rubbing against you, your hips dancing together in perfect rhythm and intensifying when he felt the warmth pooling between your legs and the small, damp spot on your sinful undergarment. It was too much for him to bear — Tommy growled, a low and primal noise that came from the depths of his soul, and his hips bucked under you. In a final scream of intense pleasure he came, stars waltzing behind the blackness of his eyelid and the mighty hands of God ripping all his suicidal thought from him just enough time to finally be at peace.

Peace, at last. He thought.

Shocked, confused and caught in the haze of the moment, you finally released your grip and freed his throat before curling up in a ball in his arms, trembling. 

“I’m fine.” He stuttered, panting, as if he had read through your concerns.

As you lay entwined on the floor, both of you breathless and tangled in each other’s arms as if your life depended on it, the silence of the room grew thick with unspoken desire and barely bridled resentment.

Would life be easier if you’d give in for good? Would he be the one, strong and steady, guiding you and protecting you? Could he be the one able to finally heal that open wound your attachment to Amos was?

No.

Tommy could never be your solace.

You would never let him.

You’d never do this to Arthur. Never.

Your hand tenderly reached his face. They lingered on his perfectly carved jaw to trace faint lines across his skin as though you were discovering him for the very first time. Had he always been so pretty? The soft caress of your fingers almost made him purr, but he was still panting too much to say something more judging by how his chest rapidly fell with each shallow breath. Only after a few minutes Tommy looked up at you, the eyes that once stared at you with disgust and burning rage now softened – though the remnant of something dark and fierce burnt inside his black pupils. 

He finally broke the silence with a voice both rough and tender, “You feel it ay? The weight of it. The weight of us.” It wasn’t a question for he knew he was right, no matter how hard you would deny it. He pulled you closer to make your embrace even more intimate until your nose nuzzled in the crook of his neck — his perfume soothing you, lulling you.

'Cause your hands maybe strong but the feelings are all wrong, Your heart is as black as night.

“Tommy. This has to stop.” You said slowly, fingers still caressing his face with sheer tenderness, “You have to let it go.”  Fighting against the torpor the sweet comfort of his arms brought you, you raised your head to plunge your gaze into his.  In response, Tommy let out a sigh and one of his hands found yours, intertwining your fingers together.

“You think he loves you the way I could?” His other hand moved to your face to tilt your chin towards him, keeping you from fleeing his vulture eyes which were filled with longing he didn’t bother to hide anymore, “I’m not letting you go.” 

Your heart pounded painfully in your chest at the thought that Tommy would never stop haunting you. 

He was talking exactly like Amos. Using the exact same words and sickly-sweet tone.

“Don’t say dumb shit like this.” You retorted, the warmth you had granted him with turning to freezing arctic ice again. With that being said, you gathered all your remaining strength to overcame the comforting haze he instilled in you, and managed to snatch yourself from his arms. You needed to leave this fucking room now. Surprised, Tommy tried to hold you, to keep you from leaving him but you had been too quick. Defeated, the gangster hauled himself with his forearms against the carpet and frowned.

“You know we’re meant to be.”

“And what are we meant to be Thomas?” You sneered, glaring at him from above your bony shoulder, “Can you tell me?!”

Your heart is as black… As mine.

“Each other’s death.”

Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @esposadomd @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia0082 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastic @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996@vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @lokigirlszendaya @justrainandcoffee @mischievouslittlecreature @jjovin3221 @randomcreator-09 @weepingdreammarvel @meadowshelby

[call-sign-shark]

THIS. This is what I am talking about.

[wonderlanddreamer]

Lydia & Heaven Shelby.

For @call-sign-shark, because I loved her moodboard of John & Flo so much.

Heaven belongs to Shark. 🤍

Regardless of the season or the weather, whenever Arthur's spirited six-year-old sister wanted to venture out to pick flowers for making pretty flower crowns, Heaven was always by her side, ready for the adventure. Together, they braved the chill of winter, their boots crunching through the fresh layer of snow that blanketed the ground.

"We might have to dig through the snow to find the prettiest ones, little one," Heaven said with a gentle smile, her breath forming little clouds in the frosty air. Despite the cold, Lydia's cheeks were rosy with excitement, her tiny gloved hands eagerly reaching for any hints of colour peeking through the white landscape.

Lydia giggled, her voice a sweet melody in the stillness of the winter morning. "Maybe we can make one for Arthur for Christmas?" she suggested, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Heaven chuckled softly, bending down to brush the snow from a patch of stubborn daisies. "Oh, he'd look quite special, wouldn’t he? But I bet he'd wear it just for you," she replied, imagining the sight of the formidable Arthur Shelby adorned with a crown of delicate blooms.

Hand in hand, they continued their quest, Lydia’s laughter ringing out like a bell, mingling with the crisp winter air. The warmth of their bond brought a gentle glow to the cold landscape, a simple yet profound reminder of love's enduring presence even in the coldest of seasons.

[zablife]

Stolen Angel

Created for @call-sign-shark 1K celebration. Congrats again, darling! I chose the 2nd theme: angel with the angst prompt "This isn't right." I hope you enjoy it!

John Shelby x Heaven Lavey Shelby

A/N: Heaven Shelby is an OC belonging to @call-sign-shark and is Arthur Shelby's wife.

John always felt a deep connection to his brother’s wife, Heaven. When the enemy attacked him on his doorstep Christmas morning 1925, he swore he saw a blinding light around her small frame as she used all her healing powers to pry him from the cold embrace of death. Now he felt bound to protect the woman he thought of as his guardian angel. It was a vow he upheld when Arthur stole himself away from the Changrettas and everyone he cared about.

John was merely a brother doing his duty to family. However, the tenuous thread between friendship and something more suddenly snapped when Heaven confided she wished to stay longer. She needed time to herself after Arthur’s deceit which had been too much for their short marriage to bear. When Heaven realized they were crossing a line she warned, "This isn't right," and John had to agree.

Arthur was his flesh and blood after all, but he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling that his loyalties were shifting despite himself. Every moment spent in Heaven's intoxicating company convinced him they were meant for one another. Each morning with the children a glimpse of what their life together could be. When Arthur returned one day high on snow, angry and violent, it was all John needed to act swiftly and mercilessly.

He tortured himself with the memory of his fateful decision every day for years to come as he sat rotting in his prison cell without so much as a letter from the woman he was so enchanted with long ago. He was only certain of one thing when he thought of atonement for Arthur’s murder. He had attempted to bend the will of the heavens and fallen into the depths of hell in the process. He would spend the rest of his life praying to be forgiven for stealing God's most cherished creature from his own kin.

-----------

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@the-fangirl-diaries

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@cljordan-imperium

@pacifymebby

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@multifandomwriter56

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

[evita-shelby]

Garden of Eden

Part II

(Prev)

(Next)

@call-sign-shark @zablife

Gif by @crackshipandcrap

Cw: infidelity, toxic relationships, pregnancy

Paradise comes crashing down when he confronts her with the truth.

“How could you do this to me, to us?” He does not shout, instead he drinks and looks at her as he tossed the photographs of her and Heaven across the desk.

And because she cannot fucking explain why she thought they could have it all, that she could love two people when one refuses to even think love can be shared, Eva says nothing.

How can she tell him that she loves him, that she loves her and that despite what it looks like, Tommy is the only person she could ever wish to be married to?

Eva loves Heaven, but never the way she loves Tommy.

Tommy is the only man she’s ever wanted, the one who makes her feel understood and loved and safe. The father of her children, her partner in life and business and everything in between.

And now she had lost him.

She knows she has and that hurts more than losing Heaven.

Because if she were given a choice, it would always be Tommy.

Just as she knows Heaven would choose Arthur, and Eva would understand.

Her marriage dies tonight as she stands there in white like a bride.

“I’m sorry, Tom, I never wanted to hurt you.”

Days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months.

Arthur and Heaven have left their lives, only the brothers stay connected. Arthur forgave Heaven, whether because he doesn’t know how long it went or because he’s too under her spell, Eva doesn’t know.

First, he stops letting her in, then spends more time at work to avoid her, and last, he gives into his anger and fucks another woman.

“How does it feel, sweetheart? How does it feel to be paid with the same coin?” he asks, drunk, smelling of his secretary and touching Eva with all the want they still have for each other.

And she says nothing, because she knows she deserves the pain and humiliation from being betrayed just as she betrayed him.

He moves to a different room after, the one connected to hers so that the children don’t realize they do not sleep in the same bed.

Not that it gets past them, he is cold and distant now, even to Charlie and Diane who do not understand what’s going on.

She wants to leave, to stop hurting themselves and heal away from each other, but once you marry a Shelby your only choice is to die a Shelby.

Well, she was a Riley and a Smith before him, her husband is powerful, but so is she.

It doesn’t take much to get a lawyer and the necessary things to disappear out of his life.

And yet, Eva lets herself get caught.

Because deep in her heart, she burns to be with him still. The witch wants to see what remains in the ashes of paradise before she leaves it all behind.

“You won’t leave, just as I won’t leave either. No one else loves you like I do, and you won’t love anyone else like you love me.”

This he says burning the papers she’s gotten her cousins to give her.

This he says telling her that he’s fucked Lizzie and Jessie Eden and even May and that when he came, it was Eva’s name he said all those times.

“We are a match made in hell, sweetheart.

I can’t get you out of my fucking heart, and I don’t want to.”

That night they fuck, rough and angry and a strangely shameful after when he leaves her bed and stumbles into his.

That night Gabriel is conceived and for a moment Eva has hope.

Sure, it is too soon after Diane, but this baby could be what breathes life into what was once paradise.

When she tells him, she stands there in the same office where six months ago it all came crashing down.

Things do not return to the way they were before, but he is back beside her in bed, where they know someone who understands and loves them is beside them. He comes home more often, dismissed Lizzie and sent her out of her sight, and, for a moment, it looks like things will be better.

They campaign together, the perfect man with the perfect family.

Socialists to their core, hard working and just interesting enough to have you vote for him.

“Give me your hand,” she says when she goes in unannounced to his office in Digbeth for a visit.

He is still cool, but he has thawed enough to fan the flames of her hope. He won’t trust her again despite her giving him no reason to think there will be an encore of what happened between her and Heaven.

She deserves that, she knows she does and yet, she longs for what she had and threw away to chase after that spark she felt with Heaven.

She is Eve looking mournfully at all she cost them when God banished them from Eden.

She is Eve cursed to be mad in love with a man who’s only sin was loving her.

Eva is roughly five months pregnant when things finally seem to be healing between them.

They have not talked about it, except that she made a mistake that she will spend the rest of her life paying for because she doesn’t want to lose him.

His hand is warm under hers, the coldness of his rings feeling foreign to her touch even though she’s held and kissed his hand for six years now.

And yet, all that strangeness that has crept in between them melts away when they feel the baby kick underneath their hands.

“Will you ever forgive me?” Eva asks when he gives her a real smile, one that is warmer than any gesture thus far.

“I don’t know.”

[fablesfolklore]

Masterlist

Lilith Rose Shelby Peaky Blinders

Pre-Series 1

First Blood

First Kiss

Series 6

Jealous Man

Post Series 6

In The Graveyard with Lilith Rose Shelby (and Jack Nelson)

[cljordan-imperium]

Heaven & Arthur Visit The LaVeaus

@call-sign-shark CELEBRATES 1K

This is part 1 of Heaven & Arthur visiting Mel and her family because I'm cutting it off at 2680 words. LOL

Modern AU

@call-sign-shark's OC Heaven and her husband Arthur Shelby travel to Louisiana to visit some military men Arthur served under and with in the military. But it is Heaven that gets the biggest surprise of the visit.

“We leave in an hour to pick up Arthur and his wife, Heaven, from the airport,” Cade entered the kitchen to let Mel know.  He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, then looked around at Mama Marie, Dontanion and Francios.  “You two, behave.” He pointed at the brothers with a serious expression.  Arthur was suffering from PTSD from the Gulf and the last thing anyone needed was the two LaVeau brothers being assholes and causing him to have some kind of attack.

“One wandering ancestor and we will forever be doubted.” Dontantion smirked and winked at his sister, as his shoulders raised. “One wandering ancestor who wandered in on my friend who was getting dressed for her wedding and gave her a death prophecy.” Mel rolled her eyes as Cade took a seat next to her and planted a kiss on her cheek this time.  “You are lucky she did not stroke out.” Casting a look over to her mother, “can you please make these two behave, mama?”

“Boys, do not make me resurrect your fathers.”  The smile she gave her sons made everyone’s blood run cold.  As loving and warm as Marie was, no one ever forgot she was also the scariest person currently walking the planet. Only Rasputin may have ever topped her, and she had far outlived him.

“Yes, mama.” Francois replied before putting a strong elbow into his younger brother’s side.  Even at over one hundred and fourty, Dontanion sometimes did not act a day over 16.   “No ancestors scaring Cade’s friend, or his lovely wife.” The look in his eye was serious.  Even if the death prophecy HAD come to pass, and they HAD hated Mel’s friend, and it HAD been hilarious at the time, causing a brave soldier still bearing the mental wounds of war further trauma would not be something they would partake in.  

“Please, he was over in the Gulf with me and some of the guys on the team.  He was under Alexander.  Has some bad PTSD, seeing spirits that he would think were hallucinations from there might just send him…” Cade raised his brows and tilted his head, he didn’t need to finish, both brothers were nodding.  “His wife, I don’t know much about but he says she is an angel and shy.  Her name’s Heaven.  She seems to have dont him a lot of good, he seems to be healing more.  Figured she and Mel would be the ones hanging out, maybe with Mama Marie too.”  He winked over at the woman who was like a second mother to him and who could make anyone feel welcome and loved.

“Of course, any of your friends are welcome here.”  Love and warmth emanated from Marie.  While she had immense powers, which she did not hesitate to use to protect those she loved; she was, at her heart, a mother.  All of Mel’s friends had been adopted as surrogate children.  None were turned away if they needed a mother figure, that was just Marie and the time she came from.

“Thank you, mama.” Love radiated off of Melania too as her gaze alternated around the other four in the room at the time, before her attention turned to Cade.  “When do the others get here?  I know Alexander got in last night and is still passed out in his room.”  

“Tomorrow.”  Cade answered, picking her hand up off of the table and kissing the back where there was a scar that lay across running from just below where her pinky met her hand to the crease of her wrist.  The last evidence of the whole ordeal involving Ambrose and Adama.  Even though it was long ago, it still made his heart clench and sometimes made him want to ask Marie to bring the assholes back so they could kill them again. “So you girls will have twenty-four hours before testosterone rules the house.”  He winked at her, banishing thoughts of the past.

“Lovely.  Just remember, Archibald can contain you all if you get out of line.”  The whole room erupted in laughter at the threat of having her pet albino alligator snack on people.  Not that he hadn’t been used as nature’s body disposal device before when required, but not on people they liked.

*****

Louis Armstrong Airport in Kenner was a bustle of activity as Mel sat on Cade’s lap down on the first floor by the baggage claim.  It seemed the easiest place for Arthur and Heaven to find them.  Although, from what Arthur had told Cade over the phone, Heaven shouldn’t be too hard to spot with snow white hair and skin just as fair.  A statement that had apparently gotten Cade promptly cussed out for mentioning she should fit in with the aforementioned alligator in the swamp.  Mel had a feeling that her fiance was lucky he’d been on the other side of the ocean from Arthur at the time.  

They watched as the flight from Heathrow Airport flipped over from “On Time” to “Landed”.  It still amazed Mel that they had direct flights, and for no more money, not that money mattered to her family…with Ambrose and Nic “missing”, she had complete control over Meirs Enterprises Worldwide, which meant more money than she cared to think about.  For friends of Cade, money was NOT an option anyway. 

About 20 minutes later, Mel felt it, somewhere near was a powerful witch.  Her hand went instinctively to Cade’s, their fingers interlacing.  The signature was not one she recognized, the magic different, old world like her mother and brothers’.  Her eyes scanned the crowd as people descended from the second floor on the escalators. She could more than stand on her own, but after the past events, having Cade there without her family was not something she was altogether comfortable with.  If whomever possessed the magic was hostile, it could get ugly fast if they sensed her as well.  Not since Adama had she faced down a threat, and that…she closed her eyes and swallowed before the thought fully materialized.

“Do I need my gun, or is this something of the invisible sort, babe?” Cade’s chin rested on her shoulder as he spoke just loud enough for her to hear.  He knew her signs well enough.  When she was tense, it was never a good one.

“Shooting them is as good as dropping a house on them, I guess.  A lot easier when inside too.” She tried not to let her nerves show with some humor, but she was anything but lighthearted with the situation.  As they sat there waiting for Arthur and Heaven, she did not stop scanning everyone coming in their direction.   It was that scanning that produced what would be the biggest shock of the day, the revelation that the witch was Arthur’s wife.  “You are definitely NOT shooting the witch.”

Cade chuckled, having no clue what had suddenly changed the beauty on his lap’s mind.  “And that would be because….”

Mel stood as the pair approached them, “you must be Heaven,” she greeted the tiny woman with a bright smile and offered hand.  There was no way that Heaven couldn’t sense her as well, but seemed to completely not notice.  She then remembered that Cade had mentioned that Heaven was originally from France, and since Louisiana is a bilingual state, she had an idea to make the woman feel even more welcome. “Bienvenue en Louisiane où dans le bayou, les sorcières sont vénérées. Je crois que vous et ma famille vous entendrez très bien. Ma mère est une grande prêtresse du vaudou. (Welcome to Louisiana where in the bayou, the witches are revered. I believe that you and my family will get along very well. My mother is a high priestess of Voodoo.)” 

Heaven’s eyes widened at her words, clearly not having expected them. “Comment le saviez-vous?  (How did you know?)”  The woman looked absolutely confused, which was when Mel remembered she still had the talisman on that Dontanion had given her when they were hunting Adama that cloaked her magic.

“Parfois, une sorcière en connaît une autre. J'ai aussi deux frères sorciers à la maison. C’est en quelque sorte une affaire de famille. (Sometimes a witch just knows another one.  I have two warlock brothers at home too.  It kind of runs in the family.)”  Mel gave the woman a wink and then turned to Arthur and Cade who were both looking at her with rather confused expressions.

“What, can’t one girl fluent in French welcome another?  Do you know how often I get to use that?” She smiled, Cade giving her a look that said he knew better and she’d have to explain once  that they were alone. “You must be Arthur.”  She extended her hand to him, “it is such a pleasure to meet any friend of Cade’s.  You both are now family, that is how it works here.  We will spend a couple of days out on the Plantation, and a couple here in the Garden District.  My mother has been up since dawn cooking, so we best not keep her waiting too long.  Mama Marie is not one to be kept waiting.”  Mel laughed.

Cade knew his fiance better than that.  Those were far too many words for just a polite hello, and he did recognize enough to know that she’d found her witch.  But, he was a good boy and would say nothing.  Things normally worked out more in his favor that way.  “You’re discussing how to bankrupt us in the French Quarter aren’t you?” A brow rose and he nudged Arthur with an elbow. “I hope you brought all your plastic, bro, my girl can shop!”

Arthur for his part either missed what the exchange was about or was so entranced by his bride he gave not one fuck.  He did, however, growl at Cade’s remark, which told the fellow soldier that he probably had experienced a similar shopping excursion to the one Mel had more than once put him through.  Although, to bankrupt them, Mel would have to literally buy the entire French Quarter, as in the land it was sitting on and all the buildings.

"Can you not behave for two minutes?"  Mel’s brow rose as she looked between the two men, Cade trying not to laugh and Arthur about taken aback at her words.  “No growling.”  She raised both brows and looked pointedly at the Brit.  Heaven giggled next to her, which just had Arthur rolling his eyes. “Now, you boys do the heavy lifting of getting the luggage, Miss Heaven and I are going to go get the car from the garage and bring it around.  And you two can ride in the back.”  She dropped a kiss on Cade’s cheek with a big grin and a wink over to Heaven.  She already liked the striking and beautiful woman.  Wait till her family laid eyes on her!

*****

From the airport, to River Road, Mel gave a guided tour to their guests of the historical context of each and every plantation along the road.  Her mother had been alive for the building of many, although she did not share that quite yet.  For Heaven, it might not have surprised her, for Arthur, he might have tried to exit the vehicle while at 60MPH.  The latter was more her concern.

Finally they arrived at Vita Pacis Plantation (Life of Serenity).  It had been renamed after Ambrose’s death, her mother choosing the name for what this now represented to them all.  It was a place of peace, of respite from the life they lived in Baton Rouge and New Orleans, from the missions they went on collecting artifacts around the globe.  It was to this estate, to the buildings that rested upon the land and had for over 300 years, that Mel and her friends returned to find peace and to be at peace.  It would be on this estate where she would marry Cade in six months.  

As they drove up the red brick drive, live oaks arching over it with their green leaves and the dangling spanish moss providing shade, she heard Heaven gasp as she got her first view of the grand plantation house mansion.  It was impressive with white limestone exterior and grecian columns that rose three stories, the floor to ceiling french doors that served as windows to the rooms were framed with dark red hurricane shutters.  It created an impressive picture when famed with the arch of the live oaks over the drive.  Just the guest house had four bedrooms and was a sight, but the grand mansion was something out of a movie.  Lovingly preserved by the Meirs family, and now the LaVeaus, it was a piece out of time and history.  The dark stains of the past that it held could never be erased, but they would be made up for over time.  Now it stood for the LaVeau legacy, and that was a strong, vibrant, and proud legacy.

Mel knew that when she had opened the wrought iron gates of the drive, it had alerted those within the guardhouse and the mansion of their arrival.  No one got onto or off of the property without being noticed.  If you tried to come on secretly, there were things seen and unseen that would greet you.  You had better hope the former got to you before the latter did.  So, when Mel pulled the large black SUV around to the back of the mansion, it was of little surprise that her mother stood flanked by her brothers, waiting to greet their guests.  She could not wait till they discovered the surprise that lay in store.

Once the car was stopped, and everyone was out, Mel led Arthur and Heaven over to her family while Cade unloaded the luggage from the back.  She could tell that all three of them immediately recognized in Heaven what she had and the adoring smile her mother cast on Heaven warmed her heart.  Marie was known for taking in anyone needing a mother and love, and it was clear she was already looking that way at Heaven, no matter if she had family back home or not.  

Marie was the first to speak, stepping forward and taking both of Heaven’s hands in her own. “Salve, fili mi, maiores te ad nos perduxerunt. Hic semper domum habebis. (Welcome, my child, it seems the ancestors have lead you to us.  Here you will always have a home.)” Then she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss in the middle of Heaven’s forehead.

Arthur tensed and Mel leaned over, “my mother adopts anyone she feels needs love.  She sensed that in Heaven and has welcomed her to always see this as a home.”  She kept her voice low as to not embarrass Heaven who was now tightly embracing Marie and she swore she saw a tear on the porcelain skin of her cheek. “You too Arthur, Vita Pacis means Life of Serenity.  Any friend of Cade’s is family here, where the mind can find peace when one needs.” With a soft and warm smile on her face, her eyes gently closed as she inclined her head.  

The stoic man just inclined his head in return before turning back to the scene where both Francois and Dontanion were further introducing themselves to his wife, who seemed to be taking everything in stride.  As dwarfed as the beauty was by her gruff husband, she looked absolutely tiny next to Mel’s brothers who were both well over six feet in height and broad shouldered.  “See, I told you this trip would be good for you.”  Cade finally made it up to them and clapped Arthur on the shoulder.  “And Mama Marie and the spooky bunch has adopted another stray.  I guess we’re brothers now, Arthur.  Wait till you taste her food!  We may never get you back to England.”  They all laughed as they began to head in to see exactly how big of a feast Marie HAD prepared.

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