#esme shelby lee

[zablife]

No Peace For You Ever

Requested by @runnning-outof-time for my 2K celebration An Evening at Arrow House.

Author's Note: A special ty to the amazing @shelbydelrey who helped me brainstorm this one!

Warnings: dark fic 💀, mention of the supernatural, suicide

Tommy sighed contentedly as he leaned back against the headboard of the bed, business papers in hand as you peacefully slumbered at his side. It was long past midnight, but his restless mind wouldn’t allow him sleep, not with thoughts of his family weighing on him.

As he lost himself within the jargon contained in the documents, he failed to notice the frigid breeze tinging the air or how the roaring fire had been reduced to smoldering ash. It wasn’t until you began to stir that he took note of a change in the room. Looking down at your shivering form, he asked, “What’s wrong, darling?”

“M so cold, Tommy,” you mumbled, half asleep and unable to find him in the large bed. 

Discarding his glasses on the bedside table, he turned out the light and slid under the covers. “C’mere,” he said, pulling you into his bare chest, full of warmth and gentle reassurance he hadn’t gone. His strong arms wrapped around you and you instantly felt his body heat radiating over you as you snuggled closer. A lazy smile tugged at the corners of your mouth as you felt his lips graze the top of your head. “Get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow,” he reminded you, thumb grazing your shoulder gently. You wanted to voice your concern about the housewarming party, but too tired to protest, you only nodded against him. “Good girl,” he murmured as sweet slumber welcomed you once more.

———————————————-

“Frances, tell Mr. Shelby I’m taking a walk,” you said as you gathered your coat and hat. 

“Are you alright, ma’am? You didn’t eat any breakfast,” she asked, her kind blue eyes looking you over to be sure the stress of the last few weeks hadn’t made you overly anxious. She knew how much you wanted this evening’s party to be a success.

“I’ll have something later. I only need the fresh air now,” you said with a reassuring smile. You didn’t want her to know how your nerves were making your stomach churn into such a frenzy you felt you might be sick any moment. Was it your imagination or was Tommy retreating to his office more with every phone call from one of his disapproving relatives?

You had to stop the intrusive thoughts before they began so you set out toward the calming warmth of the morning sun, basking in the gentle heat upon your cheeks. You didn’t have any particular destination in mind when you set out from the house, passing the garage and the stables. You only knew you needed absolute quiet before the chaos of the evening began.

Soon you’d distanced yourself from anyone working near the house and the only sounds to be heard were the crows overhead and the distant rush of cool water from the river. As you inhaled a deep breath of fresh air, a frigid breeze stirred your hair and an unfamiliar scent came to you, something that shifted and changed as it swirled around you with the early morning fog. You began to sense you were not alone as you heard the snap of a twig from deep within the forest bordering your land. However, finding nothing but mist taunting your vision, you attempted to steady your breathing. 

Pulling your cloak around your shoulders protectively, you turned to leave. The chill in the air was unmistakable as it had been last night. However, this time the source would become known as an unnatural presence stalked from beyond the brush in stealthy movements until a figure appeared just beyond your left shoulder.

“Y/n Shelby” a low voice called to you. Hands trembling at your throat, your head snapped from left to right, waiting for the person to show themselves. Soon a woman emerged from the dense fog, wild brunette hair flowing freely and fierce hazel eyes narrowing at you. You could only watch in speechless fright as she closed the space between you, leaning on a crooked walking stick.

“You have no clue who I am, do you?” she questioned, voice dripping with condescension. However, you’d placed her by now from the family photos in Tommy’s study. She’d lost weight, cheeks sunken and wrinkles etched into her pale skin, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

“You’re John’s widow, Esme,” you answered, trying not to let your fear show. You’d heard about her hatred of Tommy and the curse she’d placed on him before her hasty departure years ago. 

“Don’t have to make it sound so harsh, love. I’m still a part of this family whether Tommy likes it or not,” she asserted firmly, a wild gleam in her eye. 

You swallowed harshly with a nod of your head. “If you need me to arrange a meeting with Tommy…”

“I don’t want to see him,” she spat as she continued to stalk toward you. 

You cocked your head, unsure of what else she might want. “Then is there something else?” you asked, feeling your breath coming hard and fast at the realization you were alone together and much further from the house than you would have liked.

Esme stopped suddenly, looking at you in distress as she made a mysterious confession, “There’s only one thing that could make it right.” She stared into the distance, a long silence stretching before you until she began speaking again, more to herself than you. “It’s been so long since I was back here living with John…” 

You shook your head slowly, wanting to offer her comfort, but unsure how to right the wrongs of the past you’d only just become acquainted with yourself. “If you want to come to Arrow House, we’ll do everything we can to help you and the children,” you offered. 

She spun around to face you, body tense and chest heaving. “Fuck you and your bloody mansion!” she spat at your feet, making you jump.

“Then why are you here?” you challenged her, your words coming out more forcefully than intended. 

“Cos Thomas Shelby has lived in peace far too long. I warned him there’d be a price to pay,” she said, forcing her staff into the ground for emphasis with a look of devilment in her eye.

You began to back away, feeling her gaze rest upon you like that of a hungry wolf locked onto it’s prey. The long grass swept along the backs of your legs as another gust of wind blew and your nerve endings ignited sending shivers coursing down your spine. Your legs trembled in anticipation, the urge to flee growing by the second. You glanced back toward the path home knowing the attempt would be futile. Slow acceptance washed over you as you winced, “Are you here to kill me?” You felt your mouth go dry as you uttered the unthinkable, a knot forming in your stomach as you awaited an answer. 

“I’m not armed,” she stated calmly, opening her jacket to prove it to you. 

You felt the hammering in your chest subside as you inhaled a shaky breath, but you were still wary of her. There was something unsettling about her presence which told you she didn’t need weapons to do harm. “You won’t hurt Tommy either?” you asked, tears gathering in your eyes as the unspoken plea for your husband’s life hung in the air between you.

“If that’s what you want,” she said with a crooked smile, amusement evident in her tone. “Perhaps there is something you can do for me.”

“Yes, anything,” you said nodding vigorously. Closing your eyes in relief, head tipped up to the heavens in grateful prayer, you didn’t see her dip into the satchel at her waist and remove a few seeds. She scattered them at your feet with a chuckle, the jarring sound of her laughter bringing you back to reality. 

As you inspected the small, brown shells at your feet, you furrowed your brow in confusion. Were they nuts? Seeds? You couldn’t be sure until they suddenly began to burrow into the ground with a speed that made you gasp. Roots formed before your very eyes, growing and twisting in gnarled patterns along the ground until they began to snake toward your toes. As in a nightmare, you found your feet growing heavy and uncooperative as a wayward root found it’s way up your leg, lacing elegantly back and forth like a snake until you were bound to the spot were you stood.

Esme stood back and watched you carefully, a look of satisfaction on her face as you began to feel a tightening in your chest. Your lungs felt as though they were being punctured by thorns and you began to cough. “What have you done?” you sputtered, feeling your body begin to shake. There was no answer as a violent fit overtook you, delicate petals spewing from your pink lips and falling to the ground. Your hands shot up to gather them, but you found jagged leaves in place of fingers, sprouts shooting from your fingertips. You wished to shout, but by now your voice had gone, only a rustling of leaves in it’s place as you stood trapped within the bark of a twisted blackthorn tree. A faint echo of the curse Esme had issued long ago whispered forth in the wind replacing your scream with her words, “No peace for you ever.”

————————

“Frances, where did Mrs. Shelby say she was going?” Tommy asked, looking down at his pocket watch. The hour had grown late and he was concerned you hadn’t returned for lunch.

“She said she was going for a walk, sir,” Frances replied. “She enjoys the path by the river.”

“Thank you,” Tommy replied, grabbing his coat and setting off to find you. However, his search that day would be fruitless and his agitation grew as his family arrived for dinner.

The moment Polly arrived he grasped her elbow, pulling his aunt into his office with harsh insistence. “It could only have been you. What have you done with her?” Tommy seethed.

Jerking her arm away, Polly’s brown eyes lit with fury to match her nephew’s. “What the bloody hell, Tommy!”

“Y/n, she went missing this afternoon,” he said, raking a hand through his hair and making his appearance even more untidy than before. Pacing like a caged animal, he shook his head. “Don’t try to deny it, Pol!” he pointed at her accusingly. “You warned me she wouldn’t last long in the family and I know what that means.”

Polly furrowed her brow in concern, eyes tracking Tommy’s impatient movement from one end of the room to the other. “Tommy, I’ll pretend you didn’t just accuse me of doing away with your wife. You obviously aren’t thinking clearly,” she stated, straightening her fur. She crossed to the bar to pour three fingers of whisky before handing it to him to calm his nerves.

She breathed a sigh of relief as she watched him pause long enough to gulp it down, hoping it might weigh him to the carpet for a moment as she reasoned with him. Using the low, soothing voice she reserved for moments of crisis she began, “Is it possible she’s left of her own accord. Gone back to France?”

Tommy's eyes glazed over as he allowed her words to penetrate his heart and just when he accepted the stab of betrayal, a sharp knock came upon the door. The noise pulled him from the depths of his despair, a hopeful look brightening his eyes as the stablehand held up Mrs. Shelby’s cloak. “We found this tangled in the blackthorn, Mr. Shelby.”

———————-

One year later…

Time and time again Tommy had returned to the tree where your belongings were found, praying for the first time in years that you might return. Despite his best efforts to learn if you’d been kidnapped or worse, there was no word from his men north or south and the lack of information was slowly driving him mad. His only consolation was found at the foot of the gnarled blackthorn tree where, for reasons unknown to him, he felt closer to you. However, he never allowed his family or staff to accompany him to the area he considered sacred ground. It had become far too personal.

On the anniversary of your disappearance, when a walk by the river failed to soothe him, Tommy began to loose all faith. He craved the softness of your touch, the sound of your laughter, the glimmer in your eye when he called your name. There hadn’t been enough time to savor it all before you’d gone and the thought he might never experience it again was ripping him apart. “I don’t know how much longer I can go on without you, Y/n,” he cried, dropping to his knees.

Looking up into the twisted branches, the snow-white blossoms overhead showered over him. The scent of the blooms surprised him as they smelled far sweeter than any he’d ever noticed before. In fact, it transported him to a happier time when he danced with you in Paris, holding you close to him and promising to love you forever. He whispered your name to the heavens and was rewarded with another sprinkling of flowers, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Within the confines of your thorny prison, you watched over your beloved husband. Instinctively you moved toward him, but the roots planted long ago had burrowed deep into the earth, holding you captive so you could do nothing more than bear witness to his suffering.

As his shoulders slumped forward, his large hand dipped beneath his woolen coat and your terror grew as you spied what he had been reaching for. Tommy’s eyes shut tight as his arm snapped to attention at his temple, the muscle memory of a soldier called to action. A hushed prayer fell from his lips just audible over the babbling brook. “In the bleak midwinter…”

You would have gasped if you still remained human or shouted a desperate plea for your husband’s life, but now it became nothing more than a silent prayer for someone or something to stop him in time. 

It was not to be. The crisp clear shot rang out into the air and you strained against your bonds in agony. Your efforts resulted in nothing more than a muffled rustling of leaves and an echo carried away on the wind, “No peace for you ever.”

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

Tag List:

@evita-shelby

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@notyour-valentine

@areyenotfondofmelobster

@polishcrazyone

@elenavampire21

@little-diable

@lyarr24

@jomarch-wannabe

@helen06dreamer

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@dearshelby

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@peakyltd

@brummiereader

@runnning-outof-time

@emotionalcadaver

@thegreatdragonfruta

@noforkingclue

@pacifymebby

@dandelionprints

@look-at-the-soul

@thomashelbyswife

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@moral-terpitude

@l1-l4

@justlulu

@kmc1989

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@the-fangirl-diaries

@izabesworld

@babaohhhriley

@dreamlandcreations

@chaosinkest1996

[lucien-calore]

couples that "😐" together, stay together

[hllywdwhre]

Just here to remind everyone I love Esme Shelby-Lee more than anyone else in the world (John can fight me)

[runnning-outof-time]

Ok, I’m curious…

Thanks for answering! 😊

[everything-destroys-you]

Shotgun romance, all natural born

Show no mercy, slay them all

One kill, two souls

Oh, our hearts of cold

(Hearts Of Cold - Sister Sin)

[ahleecollaborations]

I see a lot about how the war affected Tommy and Arthur but do we ever talk about how it affected John?

He was the youngest of the 3 to go off to France. The first time we see him he’s getting his ass whooped by Polly…he’s struggling as a single dad back from War.

He claimed Lizzie would never replace Martha but his kids need a Mum. That leads me to believe that John loved Martha deeply. He was willing to take a chance on Lizzie before all of them. And he came to genuinely love Esme (a second chance for him).

Season 2 & 3 he’s the one to put Polly in her place about Michael (no games or bets like Tommy does). Just straightforward puts her in her place. Claims he’s killed hundreds of men by the time he was Michael’s age and nearly died himself - Michael was 18 at the time of this comment. How young was John when he left for the war? Were any of his kids born yet?

So he’s been to war as a child, lost the first love of his life before they’ve even gotten to live, become a single dad, and treated just as he said like a “Toy soldier, do this John, do that John, kill you’re fuckin’ teacher John!” (Post Grace’s death Season 3)

There’s a scene back in season 1 where he interrupts Tommy with the opium and John mostly monologues about the war (kind of our first glimpse of his experience) and he always sounded like a scared lost kid talking with his dad (Tommy) in that moment to me.

Then he finally gets away… living peacefully with his family and then the past comes back to haunt him.

Truthfully I don’t see where John could be the most like Arthur Sr. - sure he’s violent and revels in it. I think that’s a by-product of the war. Arthur Sr. Is the type to beat a woman- John would kill any man who laid hands on women (we see that in his caring of Lizzie and Esme. He’s by far the least selfish and most caring towards his women of the brothers).

He’s not like Tommy or Polly or even Arthur. He does well as a Peaky Blinder because that’s all he knows, but I think he’s the most at peace with his family wherever they are. He just wanted to make Esme and the kids happy and safe in the end.

Makes me wonder what Martha Shelby was like? And was John the glimpse of who their mother was?

[twvstedsouls]

Our stuff will stay with me. Taking the children on the road...to live with decent people. They'll never know the curse side of this family. We're done with them, John.

— PEAKY BLINDERS I S4.02

[graythursday]

the shelbys always have the most relaxing holiday get-togethers :)

[justrainandcoffee]

Masterlist

Theme, date, characters

Autumn leaves (1/10): Tommy Shelby x Lucy Winters

Log cabin (3/10): Tommy Shelby x Reader

Home made cookies (5/10): Alfie & Cyril

Pumpkin picking (7/10): Esme Lee x Reader

Bonfire (9/10): Tommy Shelby & Evelyn Shelby

Coffee shop (11/10): Alfie x Tommy

Candles (13/10): James Delaney x Lorna Bow

Warm drink (14/10): Tommy Shelby & Lydia Shelby

Castle trip (15/10): Alfie Solomons x Rose Coldwell

Thunderstorm (17/10): Alfie & Allie Solomons

Open window (19/10): Tommy Shelby x Quinn Meyer

Rain walk (21/10): River Cartwright x Reader

Forest (22/10): Heaven Shelby

Black cat (23/10): Winston Ferrante-Shelby

Bakery (25/10): Cillian Murphy x Jiyan Fabris

Book shop (27/10): Tommy Shelby x Reader

Graveyard (29/10): Jack Nelson x Eva Smith

I finished them like two weeks ago and finally October is here to post them. It's all queued, hopefully Tumblr will work and post them as I ordered.

This post is also queued. If you see this, then it worked. Any idea to link the characters to the themes? 😌. Not all the characters are in the tags and I didn't want to make it obvious.

Sincerely yours... Me.

[tommygrace]

Of the three brothers, Tommy and Arthur are the most affected by the war, than John, that we can see, because SK focused more on the two of them and not so much on John.

But we can also see the violence in him, how he enjoys cutting people's eyes, and he loves to fight. He has no problem cheating on Esme with other women, he doesn't feel guilty, and he started, along with Lizzie, the war with the Changrettas, precisely because of his ex. After the tragedy, he did not feel guilty, and instead of accompanying Tommy, what he did was provoke him.

Likewise, sometimes he had good intentions, and although the relationship with Esme could be a little toxic, I really liked them both.

Arthur is the most affected, of the three, by the violence that he carries inside, from killing the poor boy, and every time they fought, a wild animal that he carries inside would come out. One of the stories that I liked the most in the show was the one between Arthur and the boy's mother. It was shocking and we were able to see up close how the Shelbys affect people, forever, because that mother will never be able to get over losing her son and in that way.

Also the relationship with Linda, at the beginning, we see a woman with good intentions, a Catholic woman, who is sure that she will be able to heal Arthur, and get the violence out of him, by the end of the relationship, we see that it was Arthur the one who changed Linda, bringing her darkness to the surface. From a loving relationship, to a toxic relationship with physical and verbal violence. In the end Linda had no other solution than to point a gun at her husband, wishing for his death.

And then there's Tommy, the war continued on his mind, so much so that he could hear the shovels on the wall. He used the drug to silence his mind, but he still couldn't. A man who is not afraid of death, because he is already dead, and has no reason to live, lives because he doesn't care. Violent like his brothers.

Until he meets Grace, and she changed his life. I really like how Steven Knight and Cillian Murphy talk about Grace, saying that "she is Tommy's savior, even though he doesn't deserve it". "He felt like he was healing with her." Neither the drug nor the family, nor any other woman, could achieve, what she achieved, give him a little of the peace that Tommy had lost in that war. She silenced his demons, he didn't hear the shovels on the wall and he could finally sleep, if she was by his side.

I think she's the only one who reached that point, because neither Esme nor Linda managed to reach that high point with John and Arthur. Tommy did feel, for a short time, what it means to be a normal man again, what it means to have peace of mind.

But she died and so died his peace and the only humanity he had left. Her death was a trauma even greater than the war. Because where the shovels were on the wall, it was now replaced by the sound of Grace's last breath. And sometimes his hallucinations. And that's when we see how little by little he becomes more violent and more toxic.

He marries again, and his marriage is quite similar to that of Arthur and Linda.

Lizzie, like Linda, have the fantasy that they can change them, they believe they are saviors, but it is a fantasy, it is a lie, that they tell themselves, in order to stay in that marriage and for it to make sense. At the end of both marriages, it was them, Tommy and Arthur, who changed them, bringing the darkness they always carried inside to the surface. .The two, at some point in their marriage, ended up pointing a gun at their husbands. That's how dark and toxic the two marriages became.

I believe that we can see the traumas of the three brothers through their marriages. And I think that for Tommy, the death of Grace, and for Arthur, the death of John, were the traumas that led them to increase and worsen the first one, the war.

[best-character-named-x-poll]

have you done your daily click

[sskadooosh]

The Shelbys

Peaky Blinders: a sitcom

All comedic moments from season 1

[lucien-calore]

the way they hold hands??? the way john's hand is huge compared to hers?? the way he grips her hand so tightly??

also, when ada starts yelling at tommy (biggest verbal smackdown of 1919, by the way. ate her brother up and then came for seconds) and john lifts esme up while looking around with alert eyes, a hand on her stomach. yeah.

and when they call john and esme to dance and he says no...

and three seconds later:

dancing the night away fr.

best pb couple. argue with the wall.

[novashelby]

would anyone be opposed to an EsmexReader smut because I lowkey love her and my lady lover side of my bisexuality been wanting to write some WLW.....

[hb-writes]

Mirrors

Summary: It’s 1922 in the Little Lady Blinderverse. John was used to Clara preferring Tommy, but there was a space between Clara and their brother now that Grace had returned. John wondered if it was the big, drafty halls out in Warwickshire setting a coldness into their interactions. He didn’t know for sure, but he did know that there was more space between Clara and Tommy now than there had ever been on Watery Lane. There seemed to be very little space between his sister and his wife though, something that bothered John more than he cared to admit, the conspiratorial dynamic mirroring what had once existed between Tommy and Clara.

Request (from @cas-kingdom): “What do you need?” “You.” would be totally adorable for John & Clara. Congrats on 4 years of LLB!!

(Note: this is the second story based on the same prompt because both ideas bit me and I couldn’t let go.)

Characters: John Shelby, Esme Shelby, Elias Shelby, and Clara Shelby

Content Warnings: nothing much, I think.

Tell me what y'all think! Reviews and comments are always appreciated. 😌❤️

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

—

John allowed a good natured roll of his eyes as the front door eased open. The damn thing had creaked from the very day he and Martha moved in. John could’ve fixed it easily, but after all this time, he decided he liked the familiarity of it. He didn’t mind his brothers joking that John did not lock his doors because the creaking was so loud it would alert him of any intruders. It reminded him of Martha and it did serve as a sort of warning, especially in the quiet of an emptied out house. 

As he heard the sound now, John wondered which of the kids would be coming back through to intrude on his peace. One of them must’ve forgotten something—that wasn’t a surprise. A favorite toy, a hat, a shoe…John wouldn’t be surprised whatever it was. Especially if it was Katie. John was quite certain that little girl would lose her head if it wasn’t properly attached. 

She mirrored her Uncle Finn in that way—a little scattered, always on the bloody move. John thought he could see a bit of his brothers and sisters and himself reflected in each of the kids and some days, on coming home to the raucous bunch, he was reminded of his childhood in the best and the worst of ways. And even though John was their father, he felt almost as if he simply melted into their dynamic. Some days, it was a relief to lose himself in his children—to pass a few hours being silly and carefree. But other evenings, it was too much to come home to the familiar attitudes and behaviors, little copies of the trying family members he’d spent all day dealing with. 

Days like that—days like today—Esme took them all out of the house to give John time to decompress after arriving home for the shop. Like a premonition, Esme always seemed to know, even without John realizing he needed it.  

But he did need it. 

Some days depending on what he was tasked with, John just needed a moment to come back to himself before being with the kids, to let all the other stuff fall away, to be reminded that the family dynamics he’d grown up with didn’t have to be the same ones he raised his kids with. That the traits his kids had gotten from the rest of the Shelbys were just that—traits. His frustrations with his brothers and his aunts had no need of being taken out on his kids...on his wife. 

John knew it, but he wasn’t always aware of it creeping in. Esme always seemed to sense it better than he did. She knew when her husband needed to get himself straight. She never called attention to it though, always able to make up some perfectly reasonable excuse for why all of the children needed to come with her and leave the house empty for a bit even if it was just before dinner time. Even if it was not remotely convenient for her or the kids.  

And there was something about Esme’s way that those kids, the ones who always had a million protests and questions…they never questioned it when she announced they were going out. They didn’t back talk to her the way they might to John. It was like she held some sort of magic over them all. John thought sometimes maybe she did. 

Esme Shelby Lee certainly had him in a thrall, anyway. 

They’d only be gone for half an hour, but that would be time enough. John took a sip of his drink, still sitting in his chair at the kitchen table as he waited for whoever it was to come back through. Sarah, he hoped. John figured he could handle his oldest daughter for just a few minutes.

Yes, he decided. He far preferred it to be Sarah coming through the door. He couldn’t handle any of the other children just now—not Katie, who was a bit like Finn, or Joey, who was somehow both a bit of Tommy and a bit of Arthur at the same time, and certainly not Robbie, who was too much like John. Thankfully, the baby wasn’t like much of anyone yet, not discernibly anyway, but he knew his infant wouldn’t be crawling through the door. 

John took another sip of his drink as careful footsteps sounded in the front room. He knew it wasn’t just the time alone but also the glass of whiskey that eased the day’s tensions. Somewhere along the line, he’d convinced himself it helped. He’d convinced himself he needed it. 

John called out before the kitchen door swung open. “What do you need—” 

He started as his sister came through the door, still in her school uniform, looking like she’d run the whole way there from the other side of Birmingham. “Oh—Clara. Uh…Esme’s out with the—”

Clara shook her head. “No,” she choked out, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as the bag of school books fell to the floor. Her eyes were rimmed red with tears and John realized she wasn’t just out of breath from running here. 

“Alright,” John shifted in his chair. “What do you—?”

“You. John, I—” The words came out hard, like whatever she intended to say really was a need and not a want. As Clara’s voice devolved into a sob, she became incoherent to her brother, whatever else she had been about to tell him lost in the tears and uncontrollable breathing. John had not a single clue as to what it might have been his sister needed, what she was trying to tell him. It usually frustrated him a bit, having to guess at whatever Clara wasn’t saying and lately, Esme had been taking over where Clara was concerned. Esme understood her better. He figured it was a female thing. 

He’d grown used to his sister showing up unannounced or inviting herself over for dinner or for a long weekend. Most of the time, she was looking for Esme, but she’d been spending more time with them in general—with him, and Esme, and the kids. Clara and Esme had formed a certain bond though, a bit of a conspiratorial relationship that John didn’t wholly understand or particularly enjoy. There were secrets between his wife and his sister that he wasn’t comfortable with them having though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the details. Esme often informed him that what she and Clara talked about wasn’t any of his business, anyway. 

John let it be. He tried for acceptance, but he would’ve been lying if he said it didn’t bother him just a bit—the conspiratorial dynamic mirroring what had once existed between Tommy and Clara and making him a little jealous that his sister seemed to be closer with his wife than him these days.

John was used to Clara preferring Tommy, but there was a space between Clara and their brother now that Grace had returned. John wondered if it was the big, drafty halls out in Warwickshire setting a coldness into their interactions. He didn’t know for sure, but there was more space between Clara and Tommy now than there had ever been on Watery Lane. 

And it still hadn’t seemed enough for Clara. She filled her time with finding excuses to be away from Arrow House, passing her weekends with John and Esme when she could manage it, but John wasn’t expecting her at his place now—not for a few hours, at least. 

She should’ve been across the city in a classroom still. Or maybe, she should’ve been just about to head over to the office down on Jamaica Row. Someone was probably waiting on her at the school. 

A Blinder.

The high and mighty King Thomas, himself, maybe. 

It didn’t quite matter who was waiting on Clara though because she was here, in John’s kitchen, sputtering on the other side of the room. Whatever tension that had been clinging to John, the tension that had had Esme taking the kids out within a minute of him passing over the threshold eased. John’s mind stopped working to figure his sister out, to make sense of her sudden presence, deciding it didn’t quite matter. He stood up and crossed the kitchen to pull Clara against his chest. 

Clara held her brother tight, immediately shifting so her arms were clinging onto him. 

“Alright. It’s alright,” John soothed. Part of him wished she’d loosen her hold on him just a bit, but he didn’t moan or try to shift her any, letting her take what she needed for as long as she wanted. 

John eased his hold when Clara started to pull away, lifting her arm to wipe at her face while she leaned her head against his chest. 

“Does Tommy know—?”

“I don’t care,” she mumbled. “Tommy can fuck off.”

John snorted. “Don’t want to get on your bad side, eh?” 

Clara pushed away from John and shoved her elbow into his side.

“Oi! Knock it off!” he huffed, pulling Clara back to his chest and settling her in a gentle headlock. “Thought you wanted me.”

Clara sighed. She tugged his arm down and settled against him once again. “I do.”

“Be nice then,” John mumbled. He placed a kiss on Clara’s head.

Clara took a deep breath, her eyes trained on the floor as she scuffed her feet against the well-worn hardwood. “I want to come home.”

John settled his hand on his sister's head. “You are home, Clara.”

His house was as good as hers, the way he saw it. She certainly spent enough time there.

“No, John.” Clara shook her head against him. “I want to be back for good. Back on Watery Lane.”

John hummed, but the sound was neutral—more of an acknowledgement than anything else. They both knew it wasn’t up to them, either one of them. Tommy said where Clara went. He said where she rested her head and where she learned her sums and where she was employed. The arrangement wasn’t documented or official, but it was good as law as far as they were all concerned. For years and years, it had been that way. 

“What’s brought this on?” He asked. 

“I just want to be here,” Clara answered. “I can help with the kids and—”

“There’ll be a kid at Arrow House you can help with soon enough,” John said. 

Clara shook her head. She’d already decided that Tommy and Grace would have no need of her help. They had already hired a full staff for the house, nanny and all. They’d have Mary look after Charles. And Clara was quite certain that Mary didn’t like her. 

“Tommy doesn’t need me,” she said, swallowing down the lump in her throat. “He doesn’t want me…said he doesn’t need me at the office anymore. Doesn’t want me in the business anymore.”

“He said all that?”

Clara pretended to sift through her mind for Tommy’s exact words, though she remembered them very clearly. He’d been so short in his explanations, his decree that she was done working for now, but it hadn’t felt to Clara like Tommy’s heart was in it.

“It doesn’t matter,” Clara said. “She’s put him up to it…she thinks I need to be focused on my schooling….but I can do both. If he doesn’t need me downtown, I can work in the shop instead, can’t I? You could use me and I can stay here and help with the kids and—“

“Of course I could use you,” John said, knowing his sister was better with math than most of the other buffoons in the shop and that Esme would probably relish in having his sister to lend a hand with the kids, “but if Tommy says—“

“I don’t care what Tommy says. He’s not—“

“In charge of us?” John suggested, cutting her off. “I’m surprised he’s not here already to collect you and give us both a telling off.”

Clara deflated a bit. “Can’t you just tell him I’m staying with you? Just tell him you and Esme need me to sit with the kids tonight?”

“Yeah, and are you actually going to sit with them?” he asked.

“I can…if you want,” she said, the volume of her voice lowering as she continued. “But maybe you and Esme want to stay in? I’m sure the kids would like it.” 

John hummed. “Yeah, the kids would like it, sure.” 

It wasn’t as if Clara’s words were untrue. John knew his kids would love a night in with their parents and aunt as Clara suggested, but there was more to it than that. It was Clara who wanted her brother close. It was Clara who wanted a night on Watery Lane, insulated from the rest of her world by her brother and sister-in-law and nieces and nephews. 

“Can you talk to him?” 

John sighed, nodding despite himself. “But if he wants you home, I’m not fighting him. It’s not worth it, alright? If he puts up a fight, you go on for the weekend and you can come to us next week as planned.” 

Clara nodded, “And working in the shop?” 

Clara let the question linger, cutting

“If you sort things with Tommy…” Clara cut into her brother’s thoughts as she heard the front door creak open, hoping it wasn’t Tommy coming to find her. “I’ll sort our dinner tonight…” 

Esme came into the kitchen with all five children in tow. She plopped the baby in John’s arms and handed the bag of groceries to Clara before lowering herself into the chair and running her hands over her swollen belly. 

“If your sister’s offering to cook me dinner, you do whatever she wants, John.”

John had no desire to get between his brother and his sister. He had enough disagreements racked up with Tommy without counting Clara’s concerns, but John could tell she needed it. She needed to feel someone was on her side, hearing her, listening to her. He knew what it was to feel like no one was listening. And he wasn’t sure Tommy would listen to him, but Polly might. He figured she might be willing to talk to Tommy. And Tommy might be willing to listen if it was Polly’s voice he was hearing.

And now that Esme was involved, it didn’t seem he had much of a choice in the matter anyway. 

“Your mother’s said her piece. I guess we’d best go make a few phone calls for your auntie, eh, Eli?” The baby in his lap lifted a chubby hand and smacked it against John’s cheek. He went back for a second and third hit, laughter spilling from his little mouth, seemingly trying to move his father along.

“Alright, mate. Hold on,” John said, standing himself and the baby up and heading toward the telephone. 

John paused just over the threshold. He could hear his wife and sister talking, Esme’s voice followed by Clara’s laughter.

Elias patted John’s face again, pulling his attention back to the task at hand.

“I’m going, I’m going,” John said as he continued away from the kitchen.

 It would usually have set John a bit on edge, hearing his sister and wife start talking and laughing as soon as he was out of the room, but just now it eased something in John knowing he wasn’t alone in all of this. It was a comfort knowing that his wife knew not just what he needed, but what his kids needed, and his sister, too. 

As John lifted the handset, waiting for the operator to connect, Elias cuddled into his father’s chest. John knew the boy had inherited his looks from the Shelby side, but as another bit of tension inside of him melted away at the baby's touch, John thought maybe the boy's intuitive, kind heart might mirror that of his mother. 

Peaky Blinders (Little Lady Blinder) Masterlist

Peaky Blinders (Non-Shelby!Sister) Masterlist

[faith-forgxtten-land]

idek what you'd do with this but you're a Taylor fan so peaky blinders characters and their corresponding Taylor song/s

ooooh this is a good one. and surprisingly difficult. and i'm trying not to repeat songs which is hard when all of these people are so desperately mentally ill...

Peaky Blinders Characters + their Taylor Swift songs

warnings: needlessly long

Tommy Shelby

mr perfectly fine - does this need explaining? he is mr casually cruel, mr everything revolves around you

so dignified in your well-pressed suit / so strategised, all the eyes on you / sashay your way to your seat / it's the best seat, in the best room / oh, he's so smug, mr always wins / so far above me in every sense / so far above feeling anything

dear reader - burn all the files, desert all your past lives

Alfie Solomons

london boy - i laughed with this but i will stand by it for obvious reasons

getaway car - i will take no comments on this

i knew you were trouble - he is trouble

beautiful ghosts - it mentions london and that’s good enough for me

i know this life isn’t safe / but it’s wild and it’s free

style - we never go out of style (alfie to tommy probably)

look what you made me do - honey, i rose up from the dead, i do it all the time

Arthur Shelby

this is me trying - i’m not sure i can find a song more fitting

they told me all of my cages were mental / so i got wasted like all my potential

renegade - is it insensitive for me to say “get your shit together so i can love you”?

you fire off missiles ‘cause you hate yourself / but do you know you’re demolishing me?

forever winter - he’s up, 5am, wasted / long gone, not even listening

in short, poor arthur

Polly Gray

sad beautiful tragic - it just feels right

mad woman - i’m struggling to explain these choices but they’re correct

castles crumbling - yes

my tears ricochet - also yes

Ada Shelby

dorothea - i thought hard about this one so you better agree

you got shiny friends since you left town

it’s never too late to come back to my side

fearless - she is

a place in this world - i'm just a girl / trying to find a place in this world

ours - communism

John Shelby

i forgot that you existed - i am sorry john

the way i loved you - he and esme are crazy

but i miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain / it’s 2am and i’m cursing your name

can you tell i struggled

girl at home - you’re married john

Michael Gray

foolish one - he’s dumb as hell

never grow up - just is, could be him or polly

the lucky one - you wonder if you’ll make it out alive

bad blood - well

Grace Burgess

when emma falls in love - when emma falls in love, she paces the floor / closes the blinds and locks the door

she won’t walk away, unless she knows she absolutely has to leave

and all the bad boys would be good boys / if they only had a chance to love her

Lizzie Stark

don’t you - this fits her so well and i will not entertain any arguments about it

i heard she’s nothing like me / i’m sure she’ll make you happy

sometimes, i really wish that i could hate you / i’ve tried, but that’s just something i can’t do

you’re losing me - we thought a cure would come through in time, now i fear it won’t

now i just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time / do i throw out everything we built or keep it

May Carleton

august - you weren’t mine to lose

Finn Shelby

exile - i’m hilarious

you’re on your own, kid - see above

Esme Lee

crazier - yes