#he'd be more like aunt polly

[maximura]

[runnning-outof-time]

Change His Ways | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: In which Tommy falls for a woman out of his reach and does whatever it takes to get closer to her.

Warnings: Tommy’s certainly not canon here, language, smoking, religious themes (Tommy goes to church)

Word Count: 4025

A/N: I dusted this WIP off because I was itching to keep writing after I finished my celebration blurbs. The idea has Tommy ooc, but it was one that I just had to write down while reading a book - I’ll share a bit more about it down below for those who are interested (it’s based on a true story). Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in stories similar to this one!

Tommy's world stopped the second he saw her. She was in Polly's main room, gathering her cleaning supplies as he stepped into the home. He watched from the doorway as she tried, but failed, to take them all into her arms, the bucket and broom falling to the ground. "I'm so sorry, Ms. Gray," she quickly apologized to the woman standing next to the fireplace for the commotion, crouching down to - try and - gather it once more. Polly didn't say anything, only watching on as the younger woman struggled.

"Let me help you, miss," Tommy spoke up, balancing the cigarette he was smoking between his lips before he stepped over to her, leaning down to grab the stick of the broom before she could.

"Oh, thank you, mister," she smiled over at him, her (y/e/c) eyes instantly mesmerizing Tommy. He almost forgot what he was doing.

"Where do these need to go?" he asked after clearing his throat and pulling himself from his thoughts.

"Just outside. My father's picking me up," she responded, smiling over at him gratefully. He felt like she had knocked the wind out of him.

"Alright then," he nodded, standing in time with her and taking a bucket from her full hands so that she'd have less to carry. He then let her lead him out to where an older looking farm-typed truck was waiting. The man sitting in the driver's seat just glared at Tommy, who ignored his presence altogether. "Should be it," he remarked as he sat the broom and bucket into the back of the truck.

"Thank you, really," the woman smiled at him.

"You're welcome," Tommy nodded politely before she got in the truck and he walked back up the path to his aunt's house. Polly was standing in the entryway with her arms crossed when Tommy re-entered the house. "What, Pol?" he questioned, brushing past her into the main room.

"She's a good woman, Thomas," she heeded a warning. A warning that Tommy disregarded completely.

Tommy showed up at Polly's every day for a week until he figured out what times the unnamed, beautiful woman was present at the house. And each time she was, he would help her with the things that she needed to carry out to her father's truck.

He didn't quite get to his destination today because the very person he was looking forward to seeing was walking along the sidewalk about three blocks from his aunt's house. He slowed down his car with his brow furrowed, and bent his head down to look at her. "All ok?" he asked after he watched her take a few more struggled steps. "Your father coming to pick you up?"

"Not today," she shook her head, the tone of her voice showing how much she was struggling to keep everything in her arms. "He's been held up at the farm."

Tommy was out of his car the second he heard her answer. He walked around the side of it with a quickened pace before he took the bigger cleaning supplies from her arms. "I can take you home," he offered, already opening the back door of his car before she gave him an answer to set the supplies he'd taken inside.

"Oh I can't bother you like that," she tried to decline his offer politely, but Tommy didn't want to hear it.

"I insist," he stressed, his eyebrows raised slightly to show his seriousness. He held his eyes on her and saw her weary expression form into a smile. She nodded her head in agreement before he opened the passenger's side door for her to get into the car. Once she was in, he shut the door and walked back around to the driver's side.

"Do you have a name, sir?" she asked him almost immediately after he'd sat in the front seat, "because I feel like I should know the name of the man that has so kindly offered me a ride."

"It's Thomas Shelby," he said, clearing his throat before adding: "you can call me Tommy though."

The woman smiled at him. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, Tommy. Thank you for driving me home," she spoke politely. “My name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N)," she added, her cheeks heating up slightly when she realized that she hadn't formally introduced herself to him.

"It's nice to officially meet you as well, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but smile as he tried her name out for himself, "and there's no need to thank me...the pleasure's all mine here," he concluded his sentence by turning his car back on and pulling away from the sidewalk so that he could take her home.

There was an older man leaning up against the side of a rusted farm truck as Tommy pulled into the driveway that (Y/N) said was hers. He looked rather intimidating standing there, and if Tommy wasn't in the line of work that he was, he definitely would have been put off by him.

"Hi, daddy," (Y/N) smiled as she got out of the car so that she could grab her supplies from the back. She was too slow, however, because Tommy already had it in his hands.

"Where do you want this?" he asked her.

"Just by the shed over there," she answered as she motioned to said shed, "I can place them where they need to go later." Tommy nodded and then walked the short distance so that he could rest the supplies against the wall of the shed. "Thank you, Tommy," she sent him a bright smile once he'd finished.

"You're welcome," he nodded, deciding that being paid in her smiles would be better than any lump sum of money he could ever receive.

"You Thomas Shelby?" (Y/N)'s father then came into the situation, his voice making Tommy's expression go serious as he turned to face the older man.

"I am," he nodded, extending his hand.

"What are your intentions with my daughter?" her father got right to the point, glancing at the hand but not shaking it.

Tommy found himself feeling like a young boy again, and it made him wonder just how interested he was in (Y/N) for him to be feeling like this. "I brought her home. She was struggling with carrying the supplies," he explained himself.

The older man looked Tommy up and down before nodding slightly. "Ok," was all he said before he turned and started to walk over to one of the barns on the property.

"Thank you, Tommy," (Y/N) sent him another smile, pulling him out of the confused stupor that was brought on by the previous conversation. "I hope you make it home safely."

"You're welcome, (Y/N)," he responded, loving how her name sounded coming from his mouth. He then returned her wave before he walked to his car and got into it, backing down the driveway and away from the beautiful woman who was standing and watching him leave.

"I think you're a bloody idiot for coming up with that idea," Polly spoke her mind after Tommy had finished explaining to her where he'd gone a few days ago.

"That's why I'm doing it properly," Tommy tried to work a different angle.

"Properly or not, the (Y/L/N)'s are a God-fearing family, and I can't remember the last time you stepped into a church with the intent of speaking to the Maker," she remarked, quirking an eyebrow in his direction. Tommy sighed in response, shaking his head as he brought the cigarette back up to his mouth. He and Polly then stared at each other for a few moments before the woman sighed and hung her head, "but you'll still give it a try anyway," she stated in defeat, knowing just by his glance alone that her nephew's mind was made up.

Tommy cleared his throat as he stood from the chair in Polly's living room. He grabbed his coat and pulled it over his shoulders so that he was ready to leave the house. Polly tried to call after him, but he wasn't listening to her words as he opened the door and exited the dwelling. After getting in the car and starting its engine, he began driving to (Y/N)'s house with the full intention of winning her father over.

"You cannot court my daughter," (Y/N)'s father spoke firmly from where he sat across from Tommy in the front room.

"She's a very lovely woman, and I will be a gentleman to her," he tried to sway the older man, laying on the Shelby charm in full force, "all I am asking is for a date with her." If only his family could hear him now.

"If you want to see my daughter, you'll see her at church," her father decided, nodding his head once to show his decision was final.

"Mr. (Y/L/N)..."

"Save it, Shelby," the older man cut Tommy off, standing to leave the conversation. Tommy watched him walk, knowing there was nothing more that could be done. He also stood, showing himself out. He looked to the farmhouse after opening the door to his car and saw (Y/N) standing in one of the second floor windows. A sigh escaped his lips. He knew what to do.

Tommy met the (Y/L/N)'s at their church that Sunday. No one bothered to question how he knew where they worshiped, and he was thankful that he didn't need to explain.

They all sat in the same pew, Tommy to the right of (Y/N), of course, while her father sat on her left. He didn't listen much to the sermons, or participate in singing along with the choir.

He did, however, try to get even closer to (Y/N). After a few glances down, he slowly inched his hand closer to her lap. At first he attempted to take hold of her hand. She moved it away the second she felt his fingers brush hers. But she didn't look his way though, still focused on what the preacher was saying. So he let his hand stay there. Instead of holding hers, he flipped his palm down and draped his fingers over the curve of her thigh.

His hand had just started to warm from her body heat when he felt a sharp, but silent, smack land on the back of it. It made him remove his hand and quickly look her way. She was still looking straight ahead. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his brows furrowed. He was sure that he hadn't imagined that; she'd just smacked him.

The feeling of his eyes on her made (Y/N) glance to her right. She knew he wouldn't look away until he addressed her. But her father would instantly know that her attention had been taken off of the message being told. Ever-so-slowly, she leaned closer to Tommy, getting close enough so that he could hear her whisper. "There should be no touching in the Lord's house. It's considered blasphemy."

Tommy couldn't respond because she sat straight again the second she finished speaking. He took one last look at her before looking straight again, his hand resting on his thigh once again.

Tommy continued going to church with (Y/N) and her family every Sunday, and eventually they got into a routine of him walking her back home.

Every Sunday, they'd stop at the beginning of her dirt driveway, and she'd thank him with a kiss on his cheek. They'd then say their goodbyes and she'd begin walking to her house. Tommy would stay and watch, waiting until she was on her porch before he left.

This Sunday was different. (Y/N) was unusually quiet on the way home. The walk that was normally filled with her sweet laughter and entertaining stories was now overruled by silence.

They stopped at the end of her driveway, and (Y/N) turned so that she could face him. Tommy's eyes were immediately on her, and he noticed that she was looking at the ground. "I won't be in church next Sunday," she finally spoke, playing with her fingers in hopes it'd give her something to focus on. She glanced up at him through her eyelashes then, seeing that he was looking out at the fields for a moment. Thinking now'd be the best time to say goodbye, she lifted her head and leaned in to press her lips to his cheek.

Tommy turned to talk to her at that same moment, and he was met with the most rewarding accident he'd ever been given in his life when his lips met hers. The kiss was soft, quick, and innocent. Too quick for his liking.

(Y/N) pulled back with a gasp the second she realized what was happening. She looked at him then, her eyes now opened wide; looking as if she'd just seen a ghost, or a horrible crime be committed. I've fucked this up, Tommy thought to himself, the breath caught in his throat. The worst part about it was that he didn't quite know what to say that could make the situation better.

So he just stared at (Y/N), watching as her eyes searched his for what seemed like eternity. Then, after what felt like forever, (Y/N) leaned in and pressed her lips to his again. She kissed him more soundly this time, and he took hold of her waist to make sure that she wouldn't leave him too soon. When she eventually moved to pull back, he let her, keeping his eyes closed when she stayed close and rested her forehead against his.

"Why?" he asked once their breathing had returned to normal.

"Huh?" she was clearly confused by his sudden question, and she finally pulled back to look at him once more, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Why won't you be there, love?" he asked with a soft laugh, squeezing her waist softly as he remembered that he was still holding onto her.

Realization struck her and her confusion melted into a sheepish smile, remembering what they were talking about before the kiss happened. "My family and I are traveling to see my grandparents. We'll go to the service at their church since we'll be staying through the weekend," she explained the reason behind her initial statement.

"Should I find you there?" he asked her then, wondering if he could still make things work. He'd been seeing her every Sunday for a month and a half now, and he'd be lying if he said that he didn't look forward to it every week.

"There's no need for that, Tommy," she giggled, her stomach filling with butterflies at the sweetness of his voice. "I'll be home before you know it."

"Then I'll be waiting," he nodded, showing his sincerity as he squeezed her waist once more, his actions making her smile. His eyes flitted down to her lips then, their closeness and inviting nature becoming paramount in his mind again. "Can I?" he asked permission before doing anything, something he never could have imagined himself doing weeks ago.

"Please do," she smiled at him, her hands finding his collar as he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers once more.

"Fuck," Tommy huffed, pressing his fingers to his eyes in frustration.

"So what do we do, Tom?" Arthur asked his brother, clasping his peaked cap in his hands. "He's there. He's for the taking. We could just..."

"No," Tommy cut him off abruptly, leaning forward so that he could rest his elbows on the desk and put his head in his hands, "no, there'll be problems if we do that."

"Then what?" John chimed in, a bit of an incredulous look present on his face. "We know he did it. He shouldn't get to even think he got away with it."

"We do it another way," Tommy insisted.

"What way?" Arthur asked.

"I don't know yet," Tommy huffed, finally looking at his brothers before he continued, "but you fuckers better not try anything." He accented his direction by pointing at each of the two men as he spoke, his eyes wide to convey his seriousness.

Silence fell in the room then. John and Arthur shared a look before focusing back on their brother. They were both thinking the same thing...but who was going to be the one to say it?

Arthur looked to John again. "Seems like our brother's gotten himself a new perspective," he commented aloud, seeing Tommy's eyes snap to him from the corner of his.

A grin formed on John's face as he heard his older brother speak. Arthur was the one to cast the first stone. Now the floor was wide open. "I think it's because he's been going to that bloody church each weekend," he shared his thoughts on the situation.

Arthur shook his head. "Nah. The only reason he's going there is so he can give that girl a quick shag. You think it'll be worth it, Tom?"

Tommy was now seeing red. "What the fuck are you two going on about? Eh?!"

"That girl from Pol's place. (Y/N), was it?" John answered, even though the previous question was meant to be rhetorical.

"Yeah, yeah. That's her name. She's real pretty," Arthur commented, a smug grin now present.

Tommy couldn't take the comments anymore. He slammed his hand down on the desk, commanding their attention immediately. "Enough!" he bellowed, his eyes wide with anger. "You're not going to talk about her like that. In fact, you're not going fucking to talk about her at all. Understood?" He let out a heavy breath then, looking between the two of them before he swiped at his hair, returning the strands that had fallen over his forehead back to their resting place.

Neither John nor Arthur responded verbally to their brother's statement. Arthur let out a grunt of agreement and John merely nodded, both surprised by the show of emotion they'd just witnessed.

Tommy nodded in response to the silence. "Good. Now go out and figure out how we can get this guy. We need to do it cleanly," he gave them an order, one that made the two of them nod before turning and heading to the door.

John exited without another word, but Arthur stopped with his hand on the door's handle. He looked back to his brother, who had both of his palms placed flat on the desk as he finished recollecting himself.

"She really means something to you, doesn't she?" he broke the silence hanging in the room. His question made Tommy look up. They held eye contact for a few moments. Not a word was said. Arthur got his answer though; he could see it in Tommy's eyes. So instead of prolonging the staring contest, he nodded and exited the office.

Tommy let out a huff as the door shut, closing his eyes and tipping his head back against the chair. (Y/N) came to mind then, and he relished in the thought of her as it made his stresses wash away.

Tommy just happened to be sitting out on the floor of the betting shop when the most out of place looking person entered the building. He clocked the man speaking to Scudboat and continued working on the papers in front of him as he tried to listen into the conversation.

"Is Mr. Shelby in?"

"He's busy. You'll need an appointment. That can be arranged with his..."

"I just need to speak to him for a moment."

"You'll need to arrange an..."

"He's fine to speak with me, Scudboat," Tommy cut into the conversation, coming over to where he and (Y/N)'s father were standing by the door.

"Yes, Mr. Shelby," Scudboat bowed his head as he left the conversation, knowing he was no longer needed.

"What can I do for you, Mr. (Y/L/N)?" Tommy asked (Y/N)'s father then, his eyes trained on the man who still looked so out of place.

"I'm not here to spend any money," the older man quickly replied, a rather sour look present on his face.

"I never thought you were," Tommy responded, hoping that his level voice would ease the other man's inhibitions. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked then, his brows furrowing as a feeling of worry washed over him.

Mr. (Y/L/N) looked around the room for a moment before his eyes found Tommy's again. "Can we speak somewhere more private?" he requested, the inflection of his voice not giving Tommy any concrete answer to his question. He hated that.

"We can," the gangster nodded, then moving towards one of the private offices - a little too quickly for his liking. "Has something happened to (Y/N)?" he asked again once the two men were behind the closed door.

(Y/N)'s father sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, shaking his head every so slightly before he began speaking, "I know what you do...and I know that it's not right, nor good..." he started, his eyes darting around the room so he wouldn't have to hold Tommy's stare. "But I've seen you with my daughter, how you've tried to open up and let God into your life..." he paused again, taking another deep breath. Tommy wished he'd say what he needed to already. "She sees something in you that I can not, Mr. Shelby, and I hope that you see something in her that goes beyond physical desire."

"Way beyond, Mr. (Y/L/N)," Tommy was quick to tell him, "she's...she's changed me in ways I'd not thought possible."

"Good," the older man nodded, looking pleased with the response he'd gotten. Silence hung in the air then, and both men stared at each other. It was almost like one was waiting for the other to crack; for the other shoe to fall. Mr. (Y/L/N) was the one to speak first. "You have my blessing. You can court my daughter."

Tommy exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding upon hearing the other man's statement. He immediately extended his hand. "Thank you, Mr. (Y/L/N)."

"Treat her well, Thomas," her father sternly said, accepting the handshake Tommy had offered.

"I will."

Tommy and (Y/N) arrived at the road to (Y/N)'s home, and (Y/N) turned to face him like she always did. She smiled at him, sweetly thanking him for walking her home from church. Tommy smiled at her, tipping his hat and making her giggle - like he usually did. (Y/N) then leaned in and pressed her lips to his, giving him the quick kiss that she'd always leave him with. This time, however, Tommy's hands found her waist and he held her close to him when she pulled away.

"Be mine," he whispered against her lips, pulling back slightly so that his eyes could find hers.

"Tommy," (Y/N) breathed in response to his statement, "my father..."

"He gave me his blessing," he assured her, "will you be mine, (Y/N)?" he asked this time.

A smile spread across (Y/N)'s lips as butterflies erupted in her stomach. This is what she'd been waiting for. Everyone had told her that Tommy Shelby was a man who was to be feared, but that was not the Tommy Shelby that she had the pleasure to know; to get close to. And now he was asking her the question she'd hoped he'd ask ever since the first kiss they shared.

"Yes, Tommy," she answered with a slight nod, excitement bubbling up inside of her, "yes, I'll be yours."

Her words made a smile form on Tommy's face, and instead of saying anything in response, he leaned in and kissed her, showing her how happy he was to hear her answer through the passion he put into the kiss. She was the only person who'd get him to change his ways...and now she was his.

**a little bit about the background: this was based off of a vignette that I read in a book about America in WWI — a man, who was rather rowdy, into no good things, took interest in a woman, and the woman’s father told him that the only way he’d get to court her is if he came to church. The man essentially changed his lifestyle around for her because he was so interested in her and they eventually got married — so just like Tommy, he got the girl.

———

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MASTERLIST

[brummiereader]

MASTERLIST PART THREE

Unchained Melody (Part Four)

Summary: After a distressing day of events, you and Tommy finally have the conversation you had both been avoiding for over a fortnight. All under the furious glare of the Governess as she watches from the window, fuming that her plan had fallen apart.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining, medical emergency

Word Count: 5334

Counting the days since your return to Arrow House had quickly turned into counting weeks. And just as you had once stored the memory of time passed, you found yourself in the midst of loneliness once again. Your new life felt much the same as it once did, albeit with a clearer mind, and the cherished guiding hand of reassurance from your dear housekeeper, Frances. But as you tried to rebuild the severed bond with your son, one thing from your previous life stubbornly remained without any hope of changing. Tommy's absence. Two weeks had passed since your husband had given you a difficult dose in the reality of your disappearance from his life to swallow. And two weeks had passed since you last spoke more than a few words to each other. If his avoidance of you wasn't obvious before, there was now no denying it.

Ashamed of his behavior, and begrudging the fact the near full contents of a whisky bottle he had consumed that night was not enough to dull his memory of the moment he had nearly struck you, Tommy had all but barricaded himself off, and away from any resurfacing grievances he still held for you.

Not allowing yourself to follow your husband's emotional course of self-destruction, you decided to focus your attention on one thing. William. If your husband's bullheadedness had no intentions of following his Aunt's advice, then you would. For all the years you had lived within the tight-knit family you had married into, you had learnt one thing. Polly was always right. Always.

With the wise words of the Shelby matriarch playing on loop in your thoughts as you sat at your vanity, brushing your hair into a loose updo, you forgoed any hopes of reconciliation with your husband, and did as the saying goes. "Let sleeping dogs lie"

Just let him be. You told your nagging brain as you stood up, placing your ivory pearl tear-dropped earrings into your ears, forcing them with a wince through the thin layer of skin that had formed from the many years you had gone without jewellery. A birthday gift from Tommy. Was a little part of you hoping he would notice? You thought to yourself as you opened your bedroom door, wondering if the subtle gesture of gratitude you still held for him would go overlooked. Not that you were trying, of course. And like everything else you had been thrown into in the past two weeks, now was your chance to find out. For just as you reached the top of the staircase, so did your husband, and with it an uncomfortable, almost unbearable silence following him.

" Tommy" you greeted him, unable to force a smile through the sorrow weighing down your heart at his absent gaze as you searched his face for the same desperation you felt.

" Morning" he stated, void of any notions of intimacy as he cleared his throat. Sending but a mere glimpse your way, he gestured with his hand for you to lead the way.

For the briefest of moments all you could do was stand there, hoping like some silly school girl he'd notice the birthday present he had gifted you all those many moons ago. But as Tommy fished in his suit jacket for a much-needed puff of the cigarette calling his name, a dousing of embarrassment piled onto the already mounting heap you had accumulated over the past two weeks, and thus further installing Polly's words to you.

Focus on William. You reassured yourself holding your head high as he followed behind you, quickly inhaling the fumes from the tightly coiled cylinder of tobacco resting between his lips.

But Tommy did notice. He would have noticed a single eyelash out of place if given enough time to do so. Everything, and anything to do with you Tommy noticed, anything but the one thing he had regretfully refused to face, and would now haunt him to his grave, tormenting him for not saying something enough to soothe your worries away. You wore royal blue that night. He thought to himself, recalling the evening he had gifted you the delicate pearled jewels that were gracefully swaying through the whispers of your hair gathered together into pins as he took each step down the long wooded staircase behind you, watching the skin on your neck pucker into small goosebumps from the light spring breeze flowing through the open windows. The same night he held you tightly in his arms, making love to you in front of the fireplace of your living room. The night he was sure William was made. He recounted, losing himself in the small ghost of a smile etched on the corner of his mouth as he watched the end of your dress glide over each step, while the memory of you profusely refuting his calculations entered his thoughts. But when William was born exactly nine months later, he couldn't help but feel a certain sense of cockiness that his keen eye for observation, and his note of a very needy wife that night hadn't gone a miss.

"Mrs Shelby, Mr Shelby. He's been so eager to see you both" Frances smiled upon seeing you descend united down the staircase, a small amount of misplaced hope in her heart that you had worked through things as you both beamed at the wriggly two-year-old unable to contain himself any further in her arms at the sight of his parents.

" William! Hi sweetheart " You smiled, kneeling down as his little legs charged towards you, throwing himself into you with a squeal and a thud. " Did you grow during the night? I think you did" you tickled under the curve of his chin, rubbing your nose over his as your husband's heart pulled at it's tethered strings from seeing the peaceful image of his wife and son together, an image he never thought he'd witness again " What do you think Tommy? Doesn't he looked like he's gro.." You said, momentarily forgetting your self as you turned to face your husband, only to be met with an empty space with Tommy having already walked off to his office.

" Come Mam, I have breakfast ready for you both" Frances sighed ushering you away from the sadness enveloping you as you pulled your only connection to your husband tightly in your arms. " Don't fret now" she said placing her hand to your back, as all your reserves left and a tear began to well in your lashes. " Time is a great healer" she whispered to you with a loving smile as the dining room door closed behind you both and Tommy glanced back, watching his family shut him out. How long would he keep this up before he buckled?

"Good day to you Mrs Shelby, and young Master William" the gardener, Mr Heath greeted you both taking his gloves off as you and William made your way out into the gardens of Arrow house later that morning, feeling the need to walk off the large breakfast of crumpets, and every spreadable food known to man that Frances had lovingly prepared for you.

" Look who it is William! Say hello" you guided him forward with a smile, watching him toddle to the enticing flower bed bright with colours Mr Heath had undoubtedly spent most of his morning planting. With an incoherent babble of words leaving his lips, William sized up the flower in front of him, picking it from its root before you had time to scoop him up into your arms. " I'm sorry Mr Heath. Nothing seems to escape him at the moment" you apologised as you held William on your hip with his victory grasped firmly between his chubby fingers.

" Plenty more where they came from. Isn't that right William? We'll make a gardener of you yet" he winked to your son, looping his thumbs through his suspenders as William kicked his feet back and forth with a squeal, muddying your freshly laundered dress. " Got some of those roses you like Mam, had one of the lads plant 'em this morning. Miss Gray insisted on them being added to the new flower bed you've been designing. And I'm not foolish enough to say no to her, ay?" he said with a chuckle nodding them out as your eyes widened, and a smile flashed across your face at the touching gesture, and Polly's keen memory of the flowers you would have the groundsmen plant rows of so you could adorn the rooms of Arrow house with their sweet perfume.

" Oh Mr Heath, thank you! You're ever so kind" you said, placing your hand on the curve of his shoulder as your eyes brimmed with tears at his gentle nature, unaware the whole interaction was being watched by your husband who was stood at his office window.

" Well, well. She seems to have a soft spot for your trusted gardener" the Governess said announcing her presence, snaking forward behind Tommy as his jaw tightened at the sound of her voice, his fists clenching furiously onto the windowsill Infront of him." She's often out there talking to him, for hours on end"

" Get out" he stated coldly as Tommy continued to watch you from afar, the Governesses words slowly sowing doubt into his already bombarded thoughts.

" Oh come on Tommy..." She purred, standing behind him as she watched you with William talking to the gardener, her breath hot against the back of his neck, sending a shivering chill down his spine " William's her priority now. She's moving on, time you did too. I see a little spark between them" she giggled, brushing her hands around his waist down to his belt whilst she rested her freshly powdered cheek on his back as a heavy release of anger quickly heated the tips of Tommy's ears from her continued refusal to accept his disinterest in her.

"Keep your vapid thoughts to yourself!" he spat, pulling her talons off him as he marched to his office door puffing furiously on his cigarette before swinging it open for her to leave.

" She doesn't want you Tommy" she teased, her icy glare matching his own as she sauntered past him, taking the cigarette from his mouth then blowing the fumes over his lips before your husband furiously slammed the door and returned back to the window, back to his troubled mind.

Heavy with anger, the Governesses words had left a bitter taste in his spiraling thoughts as he slipped into paranoia. Was this your way to get back at him for the Governess? A fling with one of his staff? He thought to himself, watching your hand drop from the gardener's shoulder, your muffled laughs loud enough to be heard from where he was stood. What was so funny? Were you laughing at him? He fumed with jealousy, his eyes fixed solely on your every movement, ignoring the real reason for your joyful mood.

" William, no darling!" You said with a chuckle, turning to face your two-year-old who had taken a liking to the flower he had picked so much, it was now fully enclosed in his mouth with only the stem sticking out.

"We'll leave those for the horses, ay William?" the gardener laughed, ruffling his dark locks as you pulled the fully intact flower from within his plump cheeks. " I'll have my boys plant some more roses this weekend for you Mam. We'll soon have the gardens looking as they once did" Mr Heath promised, turning back with pride at the flower bed he had spent the previous days planning with you, a little something to help you remember things could be how they once were, given enough time to flower.

" Thank you, Mr Heath" you said, looking around the garden when your eyes darted past Tommy stood at the window in the distance with a cloud of smoke bellowing in front his face, a displeased look etched into his furrowed brow. " Shall we get you inside?" you said glancing away from your husband to your son, wondering what you had done now to have him looking so vexed.

" It's good to have you back Mam" Mr Heath nodded his head to you with a smile as you turned to leave.

" It's good to be home" you called back, adjusting William on your hip as you watched your husband in the corner of your eye, following your every step as you made your way back inside, and unknowingly to face his sour temper.

" Y/N!" Tommy bellowed your name as he came marching towards you when Frances quickly inserted herself between you both, noting the Governess lurking behind the door of the library watching.

" Did you enjoy the flowers Miss Gray had planted for the new garden you've been planning with Mr Heath, Mrs Shelby?" Frances quickly interrupted Tommy before he said something he would later undoubtedly regret. For Tommy's once notorious stoic demeanor had rapidly turned into one of anger since your return. The likely culprit to this sudden change in behavior, still watching down in the corridor, adding more fuel to the flames of your already burning marriage.

" It's beautiful. I must remember to call and thank her" you replied, turning to face your husband with a quizzical brow, watching him turn his head away with a deep sigh as his fingers came up to pinch the tightened skin on the bridge of his nose.

" Mr Shelby, is there something I can help you with?" Frances asked as you both waited, watching the wheels turn in his eyes while he stood with his hands on his hips, head cast down feeling stupid for letting the viper he needed to be rid of slither her way into his paranoia.

"The er, the cake..." he said clearing his throat as he looked up, his eyes darting between you and Frances as you furrowed your brow at his unusual stuttering manner. What had gotten into him?

" Yes Mr Shelby?" Frances replied with a dutiful smile.

" What...what did Mr Giles use this time?" he asked, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as his eyes quickly darted to you then back to your head housekeeper.

"Oh, I wouldn't know Mr Shelby. It was your wife that baked it this week" she said looking to you as you glanced up from smoothing down the jumper bunched up around William's chest whilst he curiously pulled at the pearl dangling from your earring.

" Brandy" you replied as a silence uncomfortably sat between you both while Frances watched on in desperation for you to both reunite, and bring peace and the love you shared back to Arrow House.

" Right" he replied quietly as his eyes lingered on you, gazing between your glossy lips and doe eyes looking up at him through your full lashes. " Right..." he repeated once again before suddenly turning for the front door.

" What...what on earth was all that about?" You asked your housekeeper as a look of puzzlement crossed your face from your husband's chaotic interaction with you.

" I'm not sure Mam" Frances replied guiding you away before glancing back to see a smirk of enjoyment flash across the Governesses lips, her eyes unnervingly narrowing in on her.

With an uncomfortable feeling of dread and unease weighing down her stomach, Frances watched the library door close, and the woman she had clocked onto slip away. What was she up to?

"Soon, William. Just another hour" you sighed, looking up at the clock as your son furiously stomped his feet, throwing his teddy your way with a wail of cries. No snacking, he's on a strict schedule. The Governesses words rang in your ears as you looked back at the ticking hands of the clock, convinced they were purposely going slower than normal. " How about we play with your new train set while we wait for dinner? Yeh?" you said energetically as you stood up from the nursery floor, hoping your enthusiasm would distract him from his rumbling belly. Holding out for his reaction, you waited and watched as he blinked away his tears, then dramatically threw himself to the floor, thrashing about like a crocodile in the throes of a death roll. " Right, you win" you declared, deciding a small snack was nothing worth battling over with a two-year-old as you picked him up and marched to the door and down the staircase. " I'm your mummy, and if you want a snack only one hour before dinner then...well, you can have a bloody snack" you said with determination, ignoring the Governesses rules that were anything but what she claimed to be "polite recommendations".

" Can I help you Mam?" The young kitchen aid Billy asked you as you started rummaging through the many cupboards, while simultaneously stopping Williams curious hands from putting everything and anything in his mouth for a drooling, toothy toddler taste test.

"Do we have any dried fruit, biscuits, bread?" You turned to ask him with a flustered face placing William down, your son instantly making a beeline for a large packet of flour. " William, wait!" you said as he opened the contents, pouring it over the tiled floor.

" Uh oh" he said with his hands out behind a puff of flour filling the air.

" Uh oh, indeed" you said covering your mouth from the giggles you were unable to hold back as you and Billy both looked down at your two-year-old emerging from the cloud of white dust that had settled around him.

" What's going on in here?" The Governess snapped, stood at the door as you patted the flour from your child's clothes. " Billy, clean this up" she demanded as you picked up your son and placed him on the kitchen table, dusting the remaining powdery kitchen staple from his brown locks. " Mrs Shelby. Your presence brings quite the chaos doesn't it?" she said as you sharply turned back to the cupboards, your patience reaching it's limits with her constant undermining of you. " His dinner is in under an hour" she reminded you as she frowned at the various jars and boxes of food you had pulled out from within the kitchen cabinets.

"He's been hungry for a few hours now. Something small won't hurt him before it's ready" you replied with as much assertiveness you could muster, waiting for her next snarky remark.

"Hours? I didn't tell you to starve the poor child. You're his mother, surely you know what he needs?" she replied, her cruel words hitting the little remaining self-confidence you had left as you bent down to William's eye level, his sweet face smiling back at you enough to keep the tears from starting, and the strength to say what needed to be said.

" I am his mother" you said, standing up, placing your arm protectively around your child's back. " And from today, I don't want to hear any more of your council, nor opinions on how I raise him. Know your place, and stay out of my parenting, and marriage" you finished with a labored breath, your heart rapidly pounding in your chest as you tried to keep your firmness on the matter from falling under the nerves coursing through your body.

"Billy, Mr Giles wants you! " She snapped, turning her piercing glare to the young kitchen aid stood nervously watching at the end of the table.

" But I have to finish up..."

" Now!" she barked, uncrossing her arms as she pulled a small jar of hazelnuts and various dried fruits from the shelf behind her as the young worker hurried past her, his eyes darting to the items of food she had placed on the large wooden table before he shut the door behind him. "Mrs Shelby?" She said pushing the food towards you, as you looked up from your son.

"Here we go, sweetheart" you said with a smile as you reached for the jar of nuts, crushing one between the heel of your hand and the table for him." Good?" You asked as he held his hand out for more, excitedly kicking his feet back and forth.

" Slow down" you giggled as your son delved his hand into the jar whilst you crushed another of the sweet earthy hazelnuts for you to share. "Slowly William" you said furrowing your brow as he began to cough, and your eyes darted around the kitchen for a jug of water as the Governess stood quietly watching. " William here, drink" you said placing a small cup to his lips when a feeling of unease settled in your stomach and your heart rapidly fluttered within you chest at the sound of yours sons sudden, unexpected wheezing. "William...William?" You panicked rubbing his back as his little lungs forcefully strained each labored breath out." Get help!" You cried looking to the Governess as you scooped up your son into your arms, his stifled cries of pain sending your body into a dizzying daze as your ears filled with a piercing ringing.

"What did you give him?!" Tommy shouted, storming through the kitchen moments later with Frances quickly following behind him as you stood there in shock, frantically trying to ease your child's cries.

" Wha...what's happening? Tommy?" You stuttered out between your rapid thoughts as you tried to answer your husband, when Tommy grabbed him from within your arms and placed him down on the cool slabbed floor, pulling his jumper off him.

" What did you fucking give him?!" Your husband screamed at you as his eyes darted up from the blotchy pink rashes covering your child's heaving chest and stomach.

" I...I..." You cried as you picked up the crushed hazelnut on the table next to you as Tommy's eyes suddenly widened in a panic.

" Get the fucking car!" Tommy shouted picking William up in his arms, cradling his limp body tightly against his chest as he ran outside, the Governess feet behind him.

" Frances?..." Your voice trembled as your eyes blinked through the tears welled in your lashes.

" You didn't know, dear. Quick, he needs you" she beckoned you forward from the state of shock welding your feet to the ground.

With a surge of adrenaline pushing you forward and out the front door, you watched as your husband carried your son into the car as the Governess slipped into the seat beside him.

"William!" You cried, as your shaky body frantically ran to them, stumbling forward until your hands landed on the boot of the car. " I'm here...William I'm here" you sobbed as your trembling fingers guided you around the Bentley, only for the Governess to slam the door shut in your face before quickly winding the window up. " Wait, wait!" You cried banging your fists on the glass, trying to garner your husband's attention who was in his own panicked daze as he tried to ease your sons discomfort.

" Go" the Governess instructed the driver as she wrapped her arm around your husbands shoulder, flashing you a look of disgust and contempt before the car drove off in a haste, leaving you in a heap of strangled cried in the muddied grass.

An allergic reaction, something any mother would have know. Something you should have known. But you didn't. And as you watched the car speed away, you felt your body cave in on itself as the weight of the grave error you had made plunged you into the depths of the ground below you, dragging you into nothing but hopelessness and despair. You were his mother... you should have known.

Four hours had passed since your husband had rushed your son to the nearest hospital. And as you sat in the icy bath you had plunged yourself into over two hours ago, you stayed motionless, numb from the thousands of needles pricking your skin as you stared blankly at the droplets of water dripping from the tap at the end of the bath, counting them as they echoed loudly in the empty darkened room.

" Mrs Shelby! My goodness!" You'll freeze to death" Frances gasped upon entering the room, throwing the neatly folded linen in her arms to the floor before pulling the plug from the bath and you along with it.

"Is he dead? Frances... Is he dead?" your voice trembled as you snapped out of your dazed state at the feeling of a warm towel being tightly wrapped around your freezing body.

" William is well, Mam" She replied as she pulled you towards her, frantically rubbing your arms up and down in an attempt to warm your body up. " Mr Shelby is waiting for you in the nursery. He wants to speak with you"

"No. I can't, Frances...not after this. He'll kill me" you panicked as you clutched tightly onto her arm, pulling yourself and her away from the door, away from the anger you feared your husband had for you.

" He'll do nothing of the sort" she reassured your paranoid mind, slowly guiding your reluctant feet to the master bedroom to dress, and the welcoming burning fire she had lit for you.

" I do like to be beside the seaside, oh I do like to be beside the sea" you heard your husband quietly sing as William slept soundly in his arms whilst you watched from the door of the nursery. "Shh, my boy" he said, turning to see you as you shifted nervously from one foot to the other under the moonlight beaming through the windows as he placed William gently into his cot.

" I'm sorry. I...I didn't know" you sobbed quietly as your husband stood with his hands resting on his waist, his face tired and drained from the day's events.

" We need to talk" he said, raising his brow with his hand out pointing to you as he watched you step back and away from him.

" I didn't know Tommy..." you cried, slowly walking backwards until your body hit the door and your fingers frantically reached for the handle behind you as your husband stared you down.

" You gonna run, eh? That's what you do, don't you?" He said following you, his eyes challenging you with every step you took as you stumbled past the furniture of your master bedroom. "Run when things get hard..." his voice rose when you turned and bolted out the door and down the corridor. " Y/N!" Tommy's voice bellowed down the stairs as he ran after you, watching you push the heavy front door open into the night air. " No! I'm not gonna let you do this again!" He shouted catching up, firmly grabbing your arm as you tossed and turned in his grip.

" Tommy stop!" You screamed, pushing him off you as you stumbled back, your lungs scrambling for air from the anguished cry that had left your lips. " I can't...I can't do this anymore. I'm not fit to be his mother. I could've killed him" you wept breathlessly as you clutched onto the brick wall gating your home.

"You didn't know..."

"I should have though! Why did you bring me back here, Tommy?! Why? You should have left me!" you shouted at him, hitting him across his chest, furious that he had thrown you back into the situation you once fled from after having convinced yourself your presence only brought dread and chaos to the ones you loved the most.

" Left you? You wanted me to fucking leave you?! Do you want to see what you left me with, eh?" Tommy bellowed, as he grabbed you by your arms, stopping your weak blows before dragging you by the wrist to a gated, enclosed area at the back of the house. "There. That's what you left me with" he spat, pushing you through the gate to a stoned monument adorned with carved roses cascading down it's side, your name intricately etched into the marble. " An empty fucking grave Y/N!" He yelled, the force of his words taking his breath away as his body hunched over, heaving for air.

"Tom..." You cried turning to face him, desperately reaching for him.

" Filled with your clothes, pictures of me and William. A tomb without a fucking body" he said, running his hands through his hair as he looked at the marked grave. "He cried for you every night you were gone. I...I didn't know what to do Y/N, he wanted his mother. But you were gone, dead" Tommy sniffed, letting his barrier finally drop as tears welled in his eyes, and he lulled his head back, desperately trying to get a hold on his escaping emotions. "Do you know how that felt, eh? That I couldn't take his tears away, that his own father couldn't settle him?" He said through gritted teeth letting his head drop, letting you see the depths of despair you had left him in. "Two years Y/N. Two fucking years...Why?" He finally gave into the conversation he had been avoiding for over a fortnight.

I...I couldn't cope anymore " you sobbed as you cautiously stepped closer to him with your hands out. " You were never here, I..."

" So it was my fault then?" He quickly interjected, shaking his head with a scoff.

" No! No Tommy" you hurried to correct him, gingerly reaching up to cup his cheeks as you turned his head to face you. " I needed your help. I should have asked for your help" you sniffed as you desperately searched your muddled thoughts for the answers he rightfully deserved. " I felt lost, Tommy. Confused. I didn't understand why I couldn't do what other women did so naturally, when all I've ever wanted to be, all I've ever dreamt of being was a mother. And I couldn't do it, Tommy. I couldn't fucking do it!" You broke down, your fingers grasped tightly onto the front of his shirt. " I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." you wept loudly, your body shaking furiously from the heartache you had put both yourself and your family through with your actions.

Unable to withstand the torment of seeing the woman he loved so broken, so fragile, he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you as he placed a pressing kiss to your head.

" You were doing it though. You couldn't see it, but you were doing everything any mother would have done, sweetheart" he sighed, threading his hand through your hair as he closed his eyes, his longing body starved of your warmth loosening in the comfort of you. "I should..." He sighed as he looked up at the night sky, a gentle breeze drifting past him cooling his simmering temper. " I should have been there. Done more" he said as he cupped your head to look at him. " I should have done more Y/N" he reiterated as his thumb swiped over the tears pooled above your cheeks.

" Forgive me Tommy...please" You sobbed, pressing your forehead to his as you linked your hands tightly around his neck, desperately holding out for his forgiveness.

" I've never had a reason to, darling" he sighed, cradling the side of your head against his thundering heart, his love for you beating rapidly through his chest. For as much as Tommy's troubled mind had put the brunt of your shared problems on your shoulders alone. His heart never betrayed him, never stopped loving you, never once blamed you for the troubled emotions he knew were out of your reach of control.

As you both sat down on the step of the marble headstone, you rested your tired body in your husband's strong frame as he looked up at the glittering sky, silently thanking the unknown for the peace he finally felt having you wrapped in his arms once again. But Tommy's peace would be short-lived. A storm was coming to Arrow house, its maker watching from the window of her room as her face twisted with fury, her bitter mind gleeful of the hell she would bring down on this grand house and everyone in it.

" You fool Thomas Shelby. You fool..

PART FIVE

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[lokisprettygirl]

Close Ties (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Modern AU) (Non canon) (18+)

Read Chapter 12 // Series Masterlist

Chapter 13

Summary : You help Daemon with his insecurities. Truth comes out in the open.

Warning: 18+, smutty smut, dad's best friend trope, canon (we don't know her..don't like don't read), feeling of hopelessness, uncle Daemon kink (you don't have to squint), familial uncle niece sort of relationship but he's not really her uncle, there will be more smut later, masturbation, significant age gap but reader is in her mid twenties, mention of infidelity, divorce, smoking and alcohol drinking, physical violence implied

“Can I ask you a personal question?” You mumbled softly in his ear so he hummed in response.

You were currently lying down in his arms on his bed, feeling the warmth of his touch and the comfort of his embrace. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon and the two of you had the mansion to yourselves since your parents were out of town again and your aunt Polly took the family to her mother's. He had a dark gray full sleeves t-shirt on with a matching pair of trousers and as soon as you saw him in the set you knew you wanted to snuggle into his arms and lay there for as long as he'd allow you to.

Daemon wasn't dating you, he was courting you and you wanted to take things slow but you couldn't stop yourself from wanting to entice him now and then, that's why you had a flimsy tank top on with a pair of shorts.

His fingers were tracing circular patterns on your bare shoulders while he used his other hand to do the same with your thigh..

“What made you want to let go finally? What was the breaking point in your marriage?” You asked him softly and he sighed, he was quiet for a moment as to figure out how he wanted to answer that heavy question.

To be honest there were several breaking points in his marriage, he should have gotten out of that relationship a long time ago, a decade ago but he continued to set himself up for failure.

“It was her wanting to keep our marriage open for other people..basically our bed ”

You looked at him a bit shocked and frankly disgusted by Stella's behavior as he said that, she spent years with him so she must have known what kind of man Daemon was. A man like him could have never allowed that to happen, he was too possessive of his girl, you knew that now very well.

“That negates the whole sanctity of marriage..she didn't deserve the countless chances you gave her" you caressed his chest with your fingers so he hummed again

"I could never ever share you with anyone, it would honestly destroy me”

He held you tighter as you said that, a smile appeared on his face as he felt your possessiveness towards him but then his insecurities kicked in for a moment.

“Mmmm really? I'm nothing special that you'd want to keep me all to yourself ”

You looked at him sharply as he said that before you got out of his arms and climbed on top of him.

“Do you want me to show you how special you are to me?” You asked him in a seductive manner as you pushed your hair behind your shoulders and his eyes flickered as he gazed at your strained nipples and your breasts threatening to spill out of your tank top but then he controlled himself. He won't fuck you until your parents had learned of this thing between you two, keeping them in dark was starting to make him feel extremely guilty.

He couldn't do this to your father, he knew it didn't make much sense but he still wanted to hold on until the truth was out in the open.

He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, your sweet scent immediately engulfed him,

“Would you feel the same way when I'm older and unattractive and you'd have the attention of every other man out there?” He asked you softly and your eyes filled with several different emotions, in that moment not only did you want to adore him but you wanted to protect him as well, protect him from all the insecurities he had about himself.

“Why don't you get old with me and find out for yourself?” you smiled as you spoke but his eyes teared even more up so you immediately scooted closer to him and hugged him tightly, lips pressed soft kisses on his neck, he hardly ever showed his emotions like this so you knew he was always genuine with them.

Your birthday arrived a week later, and as usual, your father had arranged a celebration for you. However, this year, things were a bit more grand compared to previous years. He had thought of everything and made sure every detail was taken care of, from the food to the music, to the decorations. And unlike all those years when he had been too busy with work to be there with you, this year, he made sure he was right by your side, not caring about anything else. And you had the best present you could have gotten from him, he brought back Daemon into your life, you'd have traded everything for him.

The corner of the living room was filled with presents you had received. From expensive jewellery to imported perfumes, your father had gone all out. He even gifted you a brand new car, and those who attended the party also brought with them their own lavish gifts, making you feel like a queen.

However, Daemon couldn't' help but feel a pang of guilt because he didn't have anything nearly as valuable to give you for your birthday. He was still paying off alimony since he didn't file for infidelity claim and he was saving up for his own place, making it impossible for him to spend an extravagant amount on a present for you.

As Daemon watched you being doused in expensive gifts, he couldn't help but feel inferior with the simple necklace he had gotten made for you. He shoved it back into his pocket and tried to ignore the feeling of regret that crept over him. He didn't want to spoil the night for you by bringing up his own issues, so he just kept quiet and then while you were busy with other guests he quietly left for his room.

However, when you sneaked away from the party and came to his room, he knew he couldn't keep up the facade any longer. He had intended to give you the necklace, but now felt embarrassed by its simple nature in the face of all your other luxuries.

“It's your birthday sweetheart…go get drunk” he told you nonchalantly so you pushed past him and entered his room.

“Where's my gift?” You asked him as you stood in the middle of the room with your arms behind your back elegantly, you looked drop dead gorgeous tonight in the red dress and face full of makeup. All he could think about was wanting to ruin and smear that deep red lipstick all over your face or more like his face.

“I got nothing for you pixie…sorry” he looked away as he leaned against the door so you walked towards him and kissed him softly, your hands were still behind your back and when you finally brought them forward you had a small Rose in your hand which you tucked in the pocket of his leather jacket.

“I brought one for you since you love roses” his eyes teared up at the simplicity of the gesture and he immediately wrapped his arms around you to hug you. Hiding his face between the crook of your neck he held onto to you for a while before he pulled away from you, you didn't enjoy watching him sullen like this but you did cherish these moments of vulnerability that he chose to share with you especially because you knew he wasn't like that with anyone else.

“I do have a present for you babygirl” he muttered softly and it made you smile.

“I know”

“I just didn't think you'd like it”

“And that's stupid you know that right?”

He nodded as you said that,

“You're my favorite present, you came back and I have prayed for that to happen since you left, my prayers were finally answered this year. You can give me a bag of dust if that's all you can afford and I'd rub it all over myself as if it's an offering from God, because that's what it is, that's how much I value you”

As you finished speaking you watched the tears roll down his eyes and he cupped your cheeks to kiss you passionately. He hadn't gotten the chance to do so all day long so he really needed to douse you in his sweet sweet love that he felt for you but wasn't able to show most of the time.

“Close your eyes” you smiled and closed your eyes as per his request and then you felt a necklace wrapping around your neck, you didn't even have to look at it, you just knew you'd never want to take it off ever again.

Your fingers curled around his neck as you kissed him again, you didn't have much time, you knew you'd have to go back downstairs before somebody will come looking for you so you wanted to make the most of the time.

He turned you around and pressed you against the door, fingers worked your zipper down slowly as he pressed kisses on your bare back

“Uncle?” You moaned the forbidden name and he knew he wanted to please you right then, treat you to a good release for your birthday, the way you just melted in his arms made him believe that you had never been taken care of this way and he wanted to change that, he wanted to make you feel like a treasure, make you feel pleased and valued..

“Mmm baby what do you want?” his voice was a husky whisper in your ear and it sent shivers down your spine,

“Want to show you how I look in your present”

“I can see baby..you're the most beautiful girl I swear on my dead mother, you're so precious my love”

Your eyes teared up but there was also a sweet smile on your face as his words raced your heartbeat.

“Mmmm..want to show you how i look in just your present uncle, i want to wear just that”

He gasped as you said that and as he reeled in the look on your face he just wanted to oblige and give you everything you'd ever need, a sweet, caring loyal woman like you deserved every bit of affection in return.

He lowered the straps from your shoulders slowly until the dress fell down on the floor and you were left in a red glittering lingerie that matched the dress you had on.

He turned you around swiftly and grabbed you by the hips to pick you up in his arms as if you weighed nothing, your lips stayed on his as he laid you down on the bed, the dim lighting in his room made the atmosphere even more sensuous.

As you took your bra off slowly his eyes were stuck on your almost naked form and as you slid the panties down he could see the arousal dripping from between your legs.

“How do I look?” You asked him nervously, you had never been so bold in your life before, especially in bed but the way he cared for you made you feel confident enough about yourself.

“Gorgeous babygirl, so fucking beautiful” he licked his lips subconsciously as he looked at you from head to toe.

You knew he wasn't going to fuck you so soon but you were all prepared to show him what you wanted to give him when he'd finally give it to you.

He took the rose out from the pocket of his jacket and leaned right over you to caress your face with it gently, your chest was heaving up and down as your breathing fastened from his action. The contrast of him being fully clothed and you being all naked with just his necklace on you was tantalizing.

He dragged the flower from one nipple to another very slowly before he traced it over your stomach and he took his own sweet time before he reached your mound, the delicate petals of rose then swiped between your legs for barely a moment and it was drenched with your arousal.

He brought the flower closer to his mouth and then clasped the soaked petals between his teeth. You couldn't help but moan loudly just at the sight of him being so primal at the moment, all of a sudden he had your legs pushed apart and his mouth between your legs, he kissed and licked your freshly waxed and sensitive mound before he wrapped his lips around your dripping lips, tongue played with your clit tenderly before he sucked on the swollen nubs.

Your fingers curled around his hair and you couldn't help but pull on it as the sensation between your legs reached the pit of your stomach. Back arched as his tongue slid inside you and you couldn't stop yourself from crushing him between your thighs and gods he wanted you to suffocate him like this, he could have spent hours between your legs this way..

You have had dreams like this before and a part of you still felt hazy, all of this felt like a dream come true. A dream that you knew would end someday.

“Oh god…daemon”

His pace only intensified as you moaned his name so sweetly, his hands slid up to grab your bosom and he pinched the soft flesh between his palms.

As you managed to look down he had his eyes on you, he was watching every little movement of yours, drinking in every little gasp and moans that you emitted for him, as a whiny cry escaped your throat he knew he had you right at the brink of your release..

“Cum my sweet little girl, let go in my mouth, i know you want to let go for your uncle don't you?”

The vibrations you felt from his words and his constant stimulation was enough to push you over the edge. Your thighs squeezed around his head and body convulsed like a fish out of water as you rode your high and chanted his name over and over again.

The kink was mutual and it didn't feel perverted no more, he was slowly and definitely learning to accept that his feelings for you wasn't a sin, it was a blessing, at least for him it was. He had no hope or will to find love again, he didn't think he'd ever be ready for that but you had changed it for him so quickly.

He kissed up from between your legs, leaving a trail of your wetness on your skin and as he reached closer to your mouth you kissed him back filthily.

There was no going back now, you knew things would never go back to the way they used to be before you two walked down this path. He'd always think about how you crumbled beneath him whenever he goes to bed alone at night and you? Well you didn't think you'd ever get over the way he made you feel, not just in sexual ways but emotionally and spiritually.

As you breathing leveled and you came back to your senses you found him sucking on your nipples softly and the gesture was enough to turn you on again. As he realized that he pressed his head up to kiss you one more time before he made his way to the bathroom to clean his face and then he returned to do the same with you, however you weren't just done with him. He was standing at the edge of your bed so you sat up and cupped the bulge in your palm, his eyes squeezed as a wave of pleasure shot through his spine.

“Darling.. I'd cum like this, I'm an old man now” you smiled as he said that, his voice came out all breathy.

“Then cum uncle, it's my birthday, you can give me what I want”

“Ohh sweet girl..i..” words died mid sentence in his throat as you unbuttoned his pants and rubbed your hands over his briefs and as soon as you had placed your mouth on his clothed cock to leave wet kisses his fingers clutched into your hair and you knew he had let go like he had said he would.

And you didn't judge him for that, nothing could have made you feel more desirable than a man like him cumming in his pants just from your touch.

He had to make another trip to the bathroom and when he came back this time you were already dressed so he hugged you from behind.

“I can do better than that i promise”

“Mmmm I don't care, as long as I get to have you in my bed..i don't care how long it would take me to make you cum”

You turned around and kissed him softly, there was a sweet smile on his face, all those insecurities he had somehow felt so foolish right now.

“Happy birthday my sweet puppy”

You giggled as he rubbed his nose against yours and kissed you again and then again. And then one more time.

When you went downstairs again, Rhaenyra gave you a smirk and you knew that she knew, there was no hiding it from her either.

And you wished she was the only one to find out your secret so soon but she wasn't.

Daemon was in your dad's office a week later and you went to see him there to wish him goodnight, since your father wasn't there you leaned into him to give him a quick kiss but as you turned around your dad was standing right at the door with a look of anger, disappointment and betrayal plastered all over his face.

His fists were clenched at his sides, and he was taking deep, angry breaths as he stormed towards Daemon.

And Daemon knew right then that there was no point of return from here onwards, this day had to come sooner or later. So he didn't even flinch when your father’s fist connected with his face, he just took it and perhaps he deserved that, he would have felt the same if his old best friend was caught kissing his daughter.

“Dad..” your voice choked on your tears but your dad just glared at you, the way he looked at you in the moment was heartbreaking for you. You had never been a cause of anguish for him, you were always the good girl.

“You shut up, you stay out of this y/n” he said to you so you shook your head in response and you wanted to break the fight and calm his anger but Daemon gestured you to stay quiet.

“And you..you bastard, this is what you came for isn't it? A petty revenge, after all these years you lied to me that you had forgiven me but this was your plan all along wasn't it? Using my daughter for a payback, I never thought you'd stoop so low” Your dad grabbed Daemon by the collar and punched him again but Daemon didn't say a word, he just took it as if he deserved it so that's when you intervened because you had to. You had to stick up for him even though he didn't want you to do that.

“Dad ..stop…please..it's not his fault” you pleaded with him as you stood in front of daemon but your father was so enraged that he didn't even care at the moment, he grabbed your shoulders and shoved you aside forcefully which made you trip and fall and that's when Daemon stepped out of the self loathing and pushed your father against the desk to calm him down and take control of him.

“Enough mate..i know you're cross but you're not going to hurt her” his voice was firm but still respectful, he didn't blame your father for being so erratic, any loving father would have reacted the same way.

“She's my daughter..i have loved her more than anything, you don't get to teach me how to respect my daughter when you have been fooling around with her ..you should be ashamed of yourself” as your father took another swing at him Daemon grabbed his hand, by this time your mom had joined the commotion too and she was standing at the door shell shocked, this felt like a deja vu to her, the last time they argued like this was a decade ago..

“I'm not fooling around with her, i love her…I love your daughter”

Daemon said fiercely, his voice had plenty of emotions and you didn't know how to react, you just stared between him and your dad, his confession had warmed your heart but the situation you were in was making you so anxious you didn't know what to do. You had disappointed your parents, that's all you knew.

“Love? Oh you love her now do you? You don't love her Daemon..if you loved her you wouldn't be putting your hands on her like this..good lord I'm disgusted by your perversion, you're no different than your wife”

Daemon stayed quiet as your father accused him like that, he didn't want to blow this argument out of proportion because he was afraid your father would say things he shouldn't say in front of you or your mother for that matter but it was too late now, things were about to take a turn for the worse.

“I invited you into my home again, and made you a part of my family”

"Calm down--" Daemon tried to intervene but your father didn't even listen to him

"Now I know that you came here just so you could take revenge for that one fucking mistake I had made by fucking your whore of a wife”

Your eyes widened in shock as you heard your dad's words but you didn't even have time to process what he had said because your mum heard him as well and the truth was so heartbreaking for her that she had collapsed right away.

In the fit of his anger your father had revealed the secret he had been hiding for years. You rushed to your mother's side and so did Daemon but your father stood there in his spot, not moving, not saying anything.

And you wished this awful truth was the end of it all but it wasn't, what you were about to discover next was going to change your whole life and a part of you knew you'd have to lose Daemon again.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Taglist

@serving-targaryen-realness @annoyingsweetsstranger @anukulee @mcufan72 @insertsomethingsillyhereple-blog @silentf @ajthefujoshi @stupidthoughtsinwriting @ammo23 @shuichiakainx @daddylokisqueen @ipostwhtifeel @anehkael @madlyinlovewmattmurd0ck @dixie-elocin @urmomsgirlfriend1

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Believe

Trigger warning- abuse

The youngest Shelby, YN, is the quietest out of all her siblings. She's also only 7 years old and the clingiest to Tommy. So when Tommy got a girlfriend, Grace YN wasn't happy at first. But Grace was nice to her and so YN soon started to warm up to the woman.

However once the Shelby's felt like they could leave YN alone with Grace YN soon learn that Grace wasn't as nice as she seemed. YN tried to tell her brothers and Aunt, no one believed her, thinking she was just being jealous again.

Today YN is in the house with Grace while the rest of her family are out on business

"YN!" Grace calls from downstairs. Nervously YN leaves the safety of her bedroom and makes her way to Grace who's in the living area of the house. Grace faces YN, looking at her with a stern face "what on gods earth is this" Grace points at some dirt on the floor

"Erm"

"For goodness sake YN. Clean it up"

"But I haven't...."

"I don't care if you've been out or not. Clean it up. Now!" Grace shouts making YN jump. Quickly YN gets the things she needs to sweep up the dirt on the floor. Once YN has finished sweeping the floor Grace manages to find other jobs for the young girl to do, and if she finds that YN hasn't done a good enough job Grace will reward her with a slap on her body, or a pull of her hair. This wasn't new to YN, but she gave up speaking to her brothers about this. According them 'Grace wouldn't harm a fly'. Bullshit

Later that evening YN is getting ready for bed, the rest of her family are now back home and chatting away in the living room. There's a knock on her door. Praying it's not Grace she asks who it is

"It's Polly. Can I come in love?"

"Yeah" the door creaks open. Her aunt looks at YN disappointed "what?"

"You know what"

"No I really don't"

"Grace said that,.." YN sighs and rolls her eyes sitting on the edge of her bed "this is the problem. Your attitude. Grace said she simply asked you to clean up the mud you brought in from outside and you gave her lip"

"What! I didn't. Aunt Polly she...." knowing that there's no point in trying to convince her aunt YN gives up "forget it" defeated YN turns away from her aunt

"I have no idea what's going on with you recently but it has to stop. I understand that you find it hard that Tommy doesn't give you as much attention but your getting older. You can't be relying on your brother all the time"

"Fine whatever" sighing Polly leaves YN to it and heads back downstairs.

For the next few days YN stays quiet around her family. Grace tells them that she's probably starting to have hormones, but she knew the truth. Once again YN was left alone with Grace and again she would be subjected to the abuse of her brother's girlfriend

"Your not going anywhere until all of this mess is tidied up"

"But...."

"But nothing. Get to it or else"

"Or else you'll hit me again" YN mutters

"What was that?"

"Nothing"

"Don't give me attitude" Grace pulls YNs hair back towards her. Little did she know that Polly and Arthur had just walked in

"Grace I..."

"Shut up" Grace pushes YN down on to the floor making her whimper

"What the bloody hell do you think your doing?" Polly's voice booms through the house

"Get the fuck away from my sister" Arthur shouts then storms towards Grace pushing her out of the way to kneel down next to YN

"She was being a brat"

"Get out of this house"

"You can't kick me out. Tommy wouldn't allow it" Grace crosses her arms acting way to confident

"You clearly don't know Tommy then. He'd do anything to keep his sister safe"

"Arthur take YN upstairs and make sure she's ok. We're gonna wait for Tommy"

When Tommy arrives home, his aunt tells him how YN was telling the truth the whole time and he ended up leaving Grace and telling her to leave Small Heath immediately.

YNs family are extremely apologetic and promise that in the future they will believe her.

Soon after Tommy gets into a relationship with Lizzie who YN prefers so much more, and Lizzie is nothing like Grace.

[skyeeuphixia]

𝚃𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚢 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚋𝚢 // 𝚆𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙷𝚎𝚛 𝚂𝚒𝚕𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚎

Thomas Shelby x lover oc (dorothy)

in which tommy comes home to sights worse than war

═════•°• ⚠ •°•═════

warning/s: mentions of war

words: 2.5k

═════•°• ⚠ •°•═════

If there was one constant in Tommy's life, it was his girl. Dorothy.

Through all his hardships, she was right there by his side. The two of them were like something out of a storybook, they were always in their little world as if they were constantly walking through a serene forest specifically crafted for them, rather than the smoky streets of small heath. When she was around, nothing else mattered to him. 

From the first day he met her, he was captivated by her, and no matter how many times his brothers or Aunt Polly rolled their eyes or teased him for saying so, he knew he'd marry her one day.

•°• ⚠ •°•

June, 1897

"You alright?" A young boy asks, standing close to her. 

Dorothy was walking home from school, her pristine braided plaits bouncing as she walked. She was looking down at her feet as she walked, something her mother often yelled at her about as it would 'ruin her posture'. Her mind was filled with the little symphonies she constantly composed, melodies meant to drown out the relentless clatter of the factories meaning she didn't hear the sound of speeding footsteps running toward her.

Suddenly someone barrelled into her shoulder harshly, causing her to tumble to the ground. Her eyes cloud with tears as she feels the harsh sting of her hands and knees colliding with the cobblestones. The person who collided with her didn't even look back, but it was the person who was chasing him that stopped. 

Dorothy looked up to be met with the brightest blue eyes she's ever seen, they were so hypnotizing that she almost forgot what he asked her. 

She wiped her eyes as she was adamant that she doesn't cry in front of people. She huffed as she sat up, mumbling, "What do you think?"

The boy holds his hand out to Dorothy, which she begrudgingly takes and he pulls her to her feet.

"You're bleeding'" He observes, looking at her grazed hands and scraped knees. 

"Oh well spotted," she snaps slightly.

"Hey, I wasn't the one that pushed ya. That was Freddie you should be mad at him," He points out, once again she just pouts and huffs slightly. He takes her hand, or more so he holds onto her fingers to avoid touching the scrapes on her palm and hurting her further, and her begins walking with purpose.

"What are you doing?" Dorothy asks, trying to pull her hand away, but his calloused hand is stronger than hers.

"I'm Thomas Shelby, by the way," the boy introduced himself, without looking up from his task.

He didn't say anything and something in her just told her to trust him, so she went with him willingly. He pulled her towards the cut. Once they arrive, he sits her down on a small chunk wall. He takes out a handkerchief from his pocket, dipping it into the water. Once satisfied he walks back up to her and kneels in front of her, gently padding the handkerchief against her knee, wiping away the dirt and blood. 

Dorothy winced, and each time he softened his touch, as if he were learning how to be gentler.

"Dorothy Hawthorne," she mumbled shyly.

"That's a long name...I'll call ya Dottie," He decided, as he moved to wipe her hands.

"I'd prefer if you didn't," 

"Too late, Dottie it is,"  he replied, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

•°• ⚠ •°•

From that moment onwards, Tommy was infatuated with 'his Dottie'. He started going to school more often to catch a glimpse of her, he would even ditch his brothers to be around her, it was quite annoying in Dorothy's opinion. But over the years, and as he refused to leave her alone, she decided to give the boy a chance and pretty soon they were best friends in every sense of the word. 

"I don't need you to be anyone, other than who you are Tommy," she'd say, running her fingers through his hair as they lay in the grass, heads tilted towards the sky.

Dorothy and Tommy couldn't pinpoint when the line between friends and love began to blur, but by the time they were 15, there was no doubt they were in love. To Tommy, Dorothy was the light that made his life a little less grim. With her soft red curls that always perfectly caught the sun and her eyes that shone with optimism that no one in the dreary city shared, she truly was everything Tommy thought he didn't deserve.

Dorothy had this way of making Tommy feel genuinely seen and heard. They would take regular walks around the canal and to the nearby fields, hand in hand where she would listen to him with a patience that no one else gave him. He would ramble on, he'd rant, and, being quite the dreamer back then, share his grand plans of rising above it all, of making a name for himself. And Dorothy, always with that quiet belief in him, never doubted that he would.

"Always know how to ground me, eh Dot?"

"Don't call me that,"

When everything in his life went wrong, it was Dorothy he ran to.As long as she was around, Tommy could smile, laugh, and joke, like nothing else mattered. He was always longing for the feeling of her arms thrown around his neck as they looked at each other longingly. She was his anchor, his constant—his safe place in a world that often felt too harsh.

But when the war came, it shattered the fantasy they had built together. They were ripped from the little world they had created, and everything changed. Tommy could still remember, with painful clarity, the day he told her he was leaving. And even more vividly, the day he left.

•°• ⚠ •°•

August, 1914

"Talk to me, Thomas," she whispers, her voice cutting through the silence.

The sky hung low and heavy across Birmingham, with thick clouds threatening to rain and a cool breeze in the air carrying the last whispers of summer with it. They were once again in the field, both sat under a tree. Their tree. 

Tommy was laid back on his hands while Dorothy lay beside him, her head resting on his chest. Her fingers delicately trailed along his shirt, and for a while, the world felt calm. But Dorothy could feel it in how quiet he was and the way he held her, that something was wrong.

He didn't reply to her at first, his gaze remaining out on the sky. The tension in the 24-year-old's jaw was visible, and eventually, his blue eyes met hers, clouded with emotion that Dorothy hadn't seen in him before, "I enlisted, in the war. My brothers and I leave in a few days,"

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Dorothy's breath caught in her throat, her heart hammering in her chest. She had known, of course, that this day might come. Everyone in Small Heath had been talking about the war for weeks now, the rumors, the uncertainty. But hearing it from Tommy—her Tommy—made it all too real.

"A few days?" She whispers, her breath catching in her throat, her hand coming up to cup his cheek. "Tommy you...you can't, there must be something-"

"Dottie," He interrupts, his hand coming up to hold hers, his eyes softening, "I have to. It's happening, I have no choice"

Tears welled in her eyes, but she blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Not yet. Not in front of him. Instead, she tried to be strong, tried to smile the way she always did when the world felt too heavy. “Then I’ll come with you,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I’ll wait for you, wherever you are.”

Tommy gave a sad chuckle, shaking his head. "You know you can't love."

“I can,” she insisted, the desperation in her voice growing with every word. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Tommy. You know that. I don’t care where it is.”

Without saying a word, he pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her like he could shield her from the storm that was coming. She buried her face in his chest, breathing him in, clinging to the moment, knowing it was slipping through her fingers.

"You'll wait for me here," he murmured, his voice low in her ear. "And I'll come back. I promise."

•°• ⚠ •°•

The train station had never been busier than the day that they left. Part of Dorothy prayed Tommy would get stuck in the crowd and miss the train by some miracle, but it seemed that God had too many prayers to answer that day, before she knew it, he was in front of her, holding her tightly for what felt like the last time.

"You better come back" she whispers.

"You know I will," he whispers back, his voice fighting to remain steady. The whistle of the train pirces through the station and with one last squeeze, Tommy let her go, running toward the train. The platform was flooded with women and children, waving tearful goodbyes to husbands, fathers, brothers, and sons. Dorothy stood frozen among them, her heart in her throat as she watched him leave.

Tommy stuck his torso out the narrow compartment window, a boyish grin on his face despite everything, his brothers laughing at him from behind. Dorothy rushed to him, her hands gripping the window’s edge as she stood on her toes, catching his lips in a desperate, emotional kiss.

"We'll be back by Christmas, Dottie,"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" She chokes out.

"At least one more," he chuckles, his hand reached for her cheek, lingering for just a moment longer, before the train began to pull away, taking him from her.

•°• ⚠ •°•

But they weren't home by Christmas, Four long, torturous years passed, and with each one, Tommy lost a part of himself. The war had stripped him bare—his smile faded, his jokes became rare, and his laugh was carried away on the bitter winds of France. The man who had once been full of life felt like a shadow of himself. 

However there was the occassional glimps of light amidst the chaos. Everytime a letter from Dorothy arrived, a flicker of his old self returned and for a brief moment he could smile again. He kept every single letter she sent, tucked safely in the pocket of his uniform—right over his heart, the only thing still capable of keeping him grounded in the hell they were living through. 

Feeling them was his only motivation to keep going.

He had promised her he'd come back for her.

Over time, the letters became less and less frequent, but that didn't come as a surprise to Tommy. There wasn't much for him to tell her, what was there to say when everyday was filled with dirt and death? And Dorothy...had already used all variations of words in the English dictionary to say she loved him.

"You better come back" she had said.

Eventually, the day came that he could go home. His brothers were engaged in a deep conversation about home, while Tommy looked out the window at the rolling fields, but he wasn't really seeing them. His thoughts were miles away, buried deep in the trenches of France, where everything had been consumed by mud, blood, and fire. Sure the war was over now, but it clung to him, a shadow that refused to lift.

He shifted in his seat, adjusting the hat pulled low over his eyes as if the familiar flat cap could shield him from the memories clawing at the edges of his mind. The trenches had been hell, but it wasn't the mud or the screams that haunted him most...it was the silence. The silence that stretched on when the gunfire stopped when the dead lay still, and all he had left were his thoughts. And his thoughts always went back to Dorothy.

And he had promised. He had told her he would come back. But the Tommy who had made that promise...that boy...was gone. The war had taken him, just like it had taken everything else.

Once they arrived at Small Heath, John, and Arthur wasted no time going to the Garrison, but Tommy just wanted to see his girl. The streets were the same, but they felt different—empty in a way they hadn't before, but something gnawed at him, a sense that the world he had left wasn't quite the same one he had come back to.

It wasn't until he saw the posters that the dread set in.

His Dottie's face was on every wall, lamppost, and window. Her name in big bold letters:

MISSING, DOROTHY HAWTHORNE

Dorothy's bright smile stared back at him, but it was a mockery now, surrounded by a message that chilled his bones. Tommy stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the poster as though it couldn't possibly be real. His heart pounded in his chest, a thousand thoughts racing through his mind, but all he could do was stand there, frozen.

When the words sunk in, he ripped the poster of the wall, crumpling it in his fist, before shoving it into his pocket. Without a second thought, he marched straight to the old betting den, his heart pounding with a mix of disbelief and rage. The moment he burst through the door, his eyes found his Aunt Polly. She barely had time to acknowledge him before he slammed the poster down on the table in front of her.

"How long?" His voice sharp, like a knife ready to cut thriugh whatever lies had been kept from him.

Polly looked up at him, and for the first time, Tommy saw the deep sadness in her eyes, the kind that spoke of years spent carrying the weight of a world no one else could understand. It seemed like she had been holding it all together for far too long.

"Just over ten months now," her voice quiet almost like she was bracing for a storm.

"10 months...10 MONTHS! AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO TELL ME?!" He raged, smashing one of the glasses on the table. Polly knew that Tommy had a temper, he was bound to inherit something from his father, but this was anger she hadn't seen from him. The war had made him harder, darker, and she had a sinking feeling this kind of fury might become a new part of him.

"You were at war Thomas, facing god knows what. We didn't want to give you a reason to go out and get yourself killed," 

Thomas couldn't bare to listen to another word, storming out of the house towards their field, their sacred place. The same picture of him mocked him the whole way there. But when he got there, it was no longer the sactuary that he remembered. The wildflowers were gone, wilted and forgotten. The birds that once filled the air with song were silent. The sky above was a dull, lifeless grey, and the entire world felt void of her, as if she had taken all the light with her when she left.

Her name caught in his throat, a whisper at first, then a desperate cry torn from his chest.

“DOTTIE!”

His voice echoed through the empty field, but it brought no comfort, no answer...just the sound of it fading into the wind, as hollow and lost as he felt.

•°• ⚠ •°•

(fin)

part 2?

[vivianleighwishesshewasme]

Trick or Treating with the Shelby's

Grace finds out that Tommy has never gone trick or treating.

_______________________________________________________

“Oh, come on, it'll be fun. Didn’t you ever go door to door and ask for treats for Halloween Tom?” Grace smiled at him as she cut holes in one of their nice sheets. He shook his head. She wasn’t sure if it was from her defacing their property for the sake of a costume or if it was the suggested activity of tonight.

“You forget who and what I am Grace. I'm the devil of Birmingham. I remember that on this night, me, John boy and Arthur used to egg people's houses on devils night, not beg for candy.” He smirked as her jaw dropped. She’d never heard of such a thing but she could see a teenage Tommy doing such a thing to neighbors when he’d been younger. 

“We’ll I think Charlie would have fun, besides, John's kids are going trick or treating and Harry said he'd have candy at the Garrison.” Grace grinned knowing she’d win the argument and he’d give in.

“Fine, but I'm not dressing up.” He said resolutely as he dug out a cigarette and lit it. He offered her one but she shook her  head no and smiled broader. She was up to something. 

“I thought you were already the devil. What would the devil do to me? ” she quipped back, looking him up and down seductively. He knew he looked wicked now, that was an invitation for sex if he’d ever heard one. 

“I could love you like the devil if you have an extra hour Mrs. Shelby.” She giggled as he advanced on her gently knocking them down into the bed and lacing his fingers with her before devouring her in heated kisses. 

_____________________________________________________________

They made their way through the misty Birmingham streets going door to door doing more visiting than getting candy. The street lights cast a yellow haze on the misty cold streets adding to the chill and effect of the dreary ghosty night.  Tommy had complained of chilled feet and the promise of warm whiskey at the Garrison. 

They knocked on John's door hearing ghostly and monstrous noises on the other side. 

Tommy chuckled as his younger brother flung open the door releasing his little monsters out onto the streets.

Ghosts, witches and cats hooted and hollered around Charlie and his parents. Esme had outdone herself with their costumes. 

“What are you Tommy?” His brother asked amusedly, looking him up and down. John wasn’t dressed up either.

“I’m the devil, haven't you heard?” He replied dryly, causing John to erupt with laughter.

“ I think a lot of people round ere would agree with you.” John smiled and hugged Grace tightly. “Ghosts are popular this year, eh?” He said to her while making conversation. She shrugged and chased Katy around while they boo’d at each other. Charlie giggled as he “helped” chase his cousin around the street.

“I told Esme she should go as a pumpkin since she is so round right now with my fifth child.” Tommy and John both laughed at that until they heard Esme yelling and cursing up stairs.

“Shut up John, or you’ll be a proper ghost by night's end!” She yelled down the stairs. John closed the door blushing and gathered his kids around handing them pillow cases. 

“Come on you little monsters, mama wants some candy for ‘er and the babe.” John followed talking with Tommy as Grace carried little Charlie dressed as a baby bat. He was snuggled into her all tired from the long night which had barely started for the adults.

After a while they weaved their way down the lane to a familiar doorstep.

They knocked on Polly's door. She answered looking unamused but her smile broke out when she saw all the children.

“Oh, look at you a lot. The Shelby's dressed as they are. Like little devils and monsters. Come inside. Aunt Polly will watch you while your parents down their own spirits at the Garrison. Go!” She pointed to the adults sending them down the street as she took Charlie from Grace, the other children rushed past yelling already on a sugar high.

“You break something and I'll bust your parents' heads for it.” She slammed the door as Grace shook her head. The night hadn’t gone exactly as planned but she still enjoyed sharing a new tradition with Charlie and Thomas. Her perfect little family.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Immortal Beloved - Chapter One.

Oh guys, when I tell you I was touched beyond words at how this was received by you all. I have been sitting here squeaking with joy at your lovely reviews! If I have missed anybody out in my thank you notes, please take my humble apology and know that I appreciate you so much for taking the time to both read and offer feedback.

Okay, so on with the first chapter, then. You'll notice here that my imagination weaves with canon to make some slight changes, such as giving the boy's (and Ada's) mother a name, also I wrote John only to have one child with his late wife. It made sense to me, not having to pull focus from the plot too much by having to characterise four little ones on top of everything else.

So yes, here we are, then. I think I'm going to choose Thursday as our update day and keep it to once a week posting. Those who know me of old know that I often like to throw in a little surprise update sometimes, though! Once again, thank you so much for the feedback, and I truly hope you continue to enjoy it :)

Previous chapters - Prologue

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,057

Warnings - Adult themes + vampire content throughout. Minors DNI!

“John?”  

He was still in a daze as he entered the back room, seeing Polly lift her gaze from the paper she read in front of the crackling hearth, her dark eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re bloody white as a sheet. If you’re about to be sick, go back outside. I’ve neither the desire nor patience for mopping up the contents of your stomach.”  

“Nah, I’m... I’m alright, Pol,” he began, his voice just as vacant as the expression upon his face, the toothpick between his lips practically dangling.  

She wasn’t convinced by his statement, placing the paper upon the arm of the chair and rising to her feet. “John, you look like you’ve seen a ghost, and you...” She sniffed his breath, her mouth down turning as she scoffed, “and you stink like a brewery floor. What did Tommy say, eh, about getting in this state. Look at you!”  

Her admonishment barely even landed; John still in a state of shock at what he’d witnessed, his eyes flitting to the table. Whiskey. Yes.  

Polly’s gaze followed. “No. There’ll be no more of that. You’ve had enough.”  

Finally, he moved, side stepping his aunt as he reached for the bottle, uncorking it rapidly and drinking from it directly. “Believe me, Pol. After what I just saw, all the fucking whiskey in Ireland ain’t enough.”  

She folded her arms, watching as he crashed down in the chair opposite the one she’d been comfortably sitting in. “Well, you don’t look hurt. Whatever it was, it can’t have been that bad.” 

“Not for me, but...” he began, taking another swig of the golden liquid within his grasp, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve as his eyes found hers, “for the fella outside missing his head, I can’t say the same.”  

“You bloody what, John Shelby?” Her voice rose like a siren, Polly’s authoritative boom filling the space. “A Rasmussen, I take it? And since when have you been in the habit of lopping off heads and leaving the evidence all over the bloody street? Holy shit, you boys will be the death of me!”  

She then studied him a little closer. No blood. He'd have been covered in more than just a fine misting of crimson, should he have removed somebody of their head. It also wasn’t John’s style, as far as despatching of an enemy went. He was a gangster, not a barbarian. She wouldn’t have even pegged his elder brothers for such acts, and their bloodlust far exceeded John’s. Her statement was about to be recanted when her nephew offered his reply.  

“No, not me. I didn’t do fuck all!” he corrected, gulping back more whiskey, the shock starting to soften as his muscles began to unclench, one by one. “It weren’t me, but you wouldn’t believe me if I told you what I’ve just seen out there.”  

“Is that so?” she charged, moving swiftly to stand beside his chair. “Try me.”  

He pointed his index finger towards the door, his eyes rounding once more as he relived it in his mind. “A woman, a fucking woman in a white dress, covered in blood, moving faster than I could see. She fucking... grabbed this fella, right, like he was a kiddie’s doll, bit into his neck, and then ripped his fucking head off. I ain’t lying to ya. I swear on my soul, that’s what I saw. She had these teeth, teeth like a fucking wolf.” 

Polly lifted her chin, a wave of cold dread sloshing through her insides. She knew exactly what John had seen, but could scarcely believe it. They were back. “You’re drunk. Go to bed.”  

His eyes narrowed, leaning forward in his seat. Her answer, it had been a little too swiftly delivered. “You believe me, don’t you? You know what she was.” 

“I said go to bed.” 

“I ain’t going nowhere until you tell me what the fuck that thing outside was.” Yes, Polly could be firm, but so could her nephew. It was a trait that ran strongly through the Shelby blood. She sighed, her shoulders dropping, striding to the cabinet and fetching two glasses.  

“Pour.” John met her instruction wordlessly, tipping the whiskey into the glasses she held, taking the other from her. Polly sank into her seat, sipping her whiskey and pulling a cigarette from the case beside her, lighting up. “Your great-grandmother used to call them the shadow walkers, but it’s only since that Bram Stoker fellow wrote his novel that there’s been a commonly known name for them. That woman you saw, John, she wasn’t human. She was a vampire.”  

John was baffled, and his face showed it. “But they ain’t real. I’ve heard of that book you’re on about, Dracula, isn’t it? They... they’re fiction.” 

A light snort sounded from Polly’s nose, her cigarette glowing as she took a fierce drag upon it. “Most people think that they are. They think of them as nothing more than monsters of make-believe, dreamed into existence by the imagination of a brilliant novelist.” Pausing, she smirked darkly, sighing through her nose. “I wish to god above I was one of those people. They keep themselves very well hidden, the vampires. And who would believe it, that these blood sucking creatures of the night truly exist, eh? Seeing is believing, though, and by god, John. I wish you hadn’t seen her. Those things, they’re evil incarnate.” 

“She saved me life,” he admitted, eyebrows rising a fraction. “That man, and apparently three mates of his, they were all waiting for me. The one missing his head was Samuel Rasmussen. She knew him by name.”  

Polly cocked her head slightly. “What did she say to you?”  

“Not much,” he sniffed, sipping his drink. “Said what I’ve just told you, then said my blood smelled like earth and fire, other things an’ all but I forget what. Oh, and that I was the most beautiful creature she’d seen in a long time.” 

She smiled, nodding slightly. “Well, she got that part right. You take after your mother in that respect.” It never ceased to amaze her, just how much John resembled Thora, her late sister-in-law. His blue eyes, lily skin and auburn hair came straight from her. “I’m warning you now, though. What she did for you won’t have been out of sheer magnanimity, oh no. There’ll be a reason behind it, and whatever that reason is, I am telling you, John, you’ll want for no part in it.” 

He smirked, feeling a little more himself. “What if the reason is that she just wants to fuck me?” 

Immediately, he found his ear clipped. “Fucking hell, Pol!” 

“Take something seriously for once in your fucking life!” 

He rubbed the side of his head, chewing aggressively on his toothpick. “I bloody am.” 

Her snort dripped in sarcasm “Like fuck, you are. You’d want throwing right into the loony bin if you even contemplated that, you bloody daft boy!” She remained forward in her seat, her dark eyes fixing him in an unbreakable stare. “Don’t trust her, not even for a second, or it’ll be your head ripped off your shoulders and left out for the coppers to find next. You hear me?” 

“You make it sound like I’m going to see her again,” he mused, swirling the whiskey around within the glass tumbler before sinking it.  

“You will,” she assured, her tone bitter. “You will see her again, because like I said, they don’t do anything without good reason to, those creatures. But you’ll be prepared. Carry a silver knife and get up to the church sharpish, fill a little bottle with holy water from the font. When weaponised, silver will kill her and the water will burn. And whatever you do, John, never, ever invite her into this house. She can’t get in unless she’s invited.”  

He had to wonder how, exactly, Polly had such a wealth of knowledge over them. “Have you ever met one before? You talk like you know them of old.” 

“No, thank god, but your great-grandmother Boswell, she had. Those campfire stories she told us as babes, we knew they weren’t fibs. We heeded her warnings. They’re drawn to gypsy blood, you see, something about it being palatable.” 

“She didn’t bite me, though,” John reasoned, Polly scoffing lightly. 

“If she’d just taken out four other fellas, she probably wasn’t hungry. That’s what they need to survive, the blood of the living. Trust me, she’ll be back, but you’ll be prepared. Stab her in her cold, dead heart and forget you ever met her. Don’t even think twice about it. We’ve got enough to be reckoning with, what with these fucking Rasmussen’s and the pile of shit they’re throwing our way. I don’t need the worry that you’re being stalked by the bloody undead on top of that.”  

“Why didn’t you mention any of this to us before?” 

Sinking her drink, she cleared her throat, reaching for the bottle. “And have you think I’d gone loopy?” Her snorted words brought a smile to John, Polly continuing. “We just don’t speak of them any longer. They’re rare, not an everyday threat. I’ve never heard hide nor hair of them since hearing nana’s stories, since I was just a young girl.”  

As the lie fell from her lips, Polly felt conflicted. She had to protect him, though. Keep the details scant. Besides, he was too drunk to take on anything else. Indeed, there was more she could have explained. She decided against it, clamping her lips between her teeth for a moment. 

“Hang on,” he spoke, frowning a little. “What did you mean, when you said undead?” 

“They aren’t alive anymore, John.” She paused, picking a little fleck of tobacco from her lip. “They walk and talk, but they’re not really living. Something about how they’re made, I don’t know the details, but yes. Undead. An enchanted corpse, basically.” 

“I dunno about enchanted, but she was enchanting,” he began, the corner of his mouth upturning. “She was bloody beautiful.” His face further softened as he remembered that feeling of magic lingering in the air between he and her, the pull to her, her essence shining like the brightest star within a pitch-black sky.  

“John, no. Absolutely fucking not.” Her pointed finger only momentarily wiped the growing smirk from his handsome features. “I mean it, do not even consider a fucking dalliance with a bloody vampire!”  

He shrugged slightly. “I’ve took worse to bed.” 

“John!” Her acerbic bite of his name had him in soft fits, the whiskey seeming to do the trick in placating the fear he’d felt at the time, now he was no longer in peril. “Your fucking face when you walked in here not ten minutes ago, looking like you’d seen a ghost. I was surprised your trousers were still dry, you looked that afraid!” 

“Bloody hell, Pol. I was only pulling your leg,” he laughed, rising from his seat. “Don’t worry, I ain’t stupid. I’m going to bed. Maybe all of this is just a drunken dream, I dunno.” Suddenly, her foot shot out, kicking him in the shin. “Ow, what the fuck?” 

“Did that feel like a dream to you?” 

“No, it feels like it’s gonna be a whacking great bruise on me leg!” 

She smirked, entertained at herself. “Good, might have knocked a bit of sense into you. Goodnight, love.” 

“Yeah, night, Pol.” 

He departed for the stairs, ambling up quietly so as not to wake Finn, entering his room and shivering upon the removal of his coat. His stripping of clothes into long johns and a vest was done at speed, diving under the bed covers and burrowing beneath the many woollen blankets. He hated that his room was the farthest from the chimney breast, meaning the heat didn’t ever reach the room where he could see his breath clouding through the darkness, it was so bitterly chilly.  

The knocking through of the three houses that allowed for their once illegal bookmaking endeavours to be run from the Watery Lane properties meant one large communal home, Tommy and Arthur’s abodes flanking the three, John remaining within the house he’d been born in twenty-eight years previously. It was the home he and his late wife had lived in, before he’d sadly lost her four years previously. 

Closing his eyes, he felt the pull of sleep tug at him, drifting off into dreamless slumber, awoken the following morning by the sound of the milkman’s cart doing the morning deliveries. Oh, his head. He needed tea and jam slathered toast, and quickly. Heading downstairs, he warmed enough water to have a wash and shave, combing his hair and returning to pull on a suit, opening the front door to take the milk in off the front step.  

“Morning, Mr Shelby.” 

“Morning, Jack,” he called back to the milkman, his cart paused, John turning to see a throng of people gathered a little further down the lane. “What’s all that about?”  

“Some kids found a headless body down by number six, so I’ve been told. The bobbies are on their way. Shocking business for a Wednesday morning, I can tell you!”  

John’s heart skipped on a beat as the night before rushed back over his neurons. He truly hadn’t been dreaming. “Blimey,” he began, feigning something as close to shock as he could, craning his neck a little further, able to make out the figures of his elder brother’s there surveying the scene, the local constabulary appearing right at the bottom of the lane. “Wonder how he ended up headless?”  

Jack lit a cigarette, his chest tightening as he coughed. “Might be best not to know, eh?” He paused, John seeing it, the unspoken statement there upon the milkman’s face. Grim discoveries close to a Shelby dwelling. Of course, he suspected it had something to do with him or his brothers, but Jack was much too cautious to speak it. Their reputation preceded them, after all.  

“I’ll be moving along now, Mr Shelby.” He flicked the reins, clicking his tongue. “C’mon, Beamish. Walk on.” The giant, bay shire horse snorted before continuing to the next house, Jack’s lad jumping off the back of the cart to lay the required bottles next to each door, both getting a good look at the grizzly scene as they passed it by, Tommy and Arthur having a brief chat with Sergeant Moss before walking back to meet John on the doorstep.  

The former cocked his head back in the direction of the small crowd. “Know anything about that, John? How one of our adversaries came to be missing his head almost right outside our front doors?” He’d recognised Samuel’s face as it lay wide-eyed upon the cobbles ten feet from his body, remembering him from the race meet. 

Tommy watched as his younger brother stepped back into the house, his mouth thinning. “I think we need a family meeting.” With the elders of the Shelby family assembled, cups of tea poured and cigarettes lit, John recounted the events of the night before to his brother’s, Polly interjecting with details that backed up his story. Tommy listened passively, but Arthur, well... 

His gruff laughter sounded through the air, sweeping a hand through his hair. His laughter was not mocking, though. It carried with it all the hollowness of fear. “A bloody what?”  

“Arthur, you know he’s telling the truth,” Polly stated defiantly, her eldest nephew still laughing, laughing to stop himself beginning to shake with fright. 

“What a pile of old shit! A bloody vampire, eh? Fucking hell, you two have lost your faculties if you’re expecting us to believe that!” Turning to his brother, Arthur was surprised to see Tommy completely unmoved by the story, his face unflinching, taking another drag of his cigarette.  

“Come on, Arthur,” he spoke evenly, sipping his tea. “Nobody is having you on, and you know it.” Turning to John, he placed his tea down. “This woman, John. Long, dark hair with a tattooed throat and chest?” 

He nodded a little dumbly. “Yeah, that’s her.”  

Tommy sat back again, flicking ash into the nearby ashtray with a sniff. “She’s been watching the house for a couple of weeks now.”  

“And you didn’t feel the need to mention that to anyone?” Polly charged him with, a deep frown settling between her eyebrows.  

“Speak not of the shadow walkers, lest ye bring them into the light. That’s what our dad used to say,” he revealed, Arthur scoffing immediately as he threw himself to his feet. 

“I ain’t listening to this load of old cobblers! Fucking mad, the lot of ya!”  

“Arthur, you know it’s true. You saw what I did on that night,” he reasoned softly, Arthur’s agitation winding tighter by the second as he paced the flagstones. “It’s time to face up to what happened.” 

“What night?” John demanded lightly, looking between them. Silence followed. “One of you better give me a fucking answer.”  

Tommy paused, bringing his cigarette to his lips once more. “I’ve thought about that night here and there over the years, but never mentioned it. Dad told us not to breathe a word to anyone,” he began, Arthur making a start for the door, almost throwing it off its hinges and slamming it behind him.  

Jerking his head in his wake he raised his eyebrows a fraction. “Terrified the life out of Arthur, so much so that he pissed himself. He’s never come to terms with that he witnessed, refuses to acknowledge it ever happened at all. He can’t comprehend what he saw, what we saw on that night, when dad took us up to the Black Patch when we were nippers to visit family. Now, I don’t know how much Polly revealed to you, but they aren’t spoken about, the shadow walkers as our gypsy kin always referred to them as, but for centuries, they had a pact.  

“Gypsy blood to a vampire is what a fine wine or whiskey is to us, so for hundreds of years, vampires would guard the camps in exchange for feeding upon that blood. That was, at least, until the pact was broken. I don’t know why, and neither did our dad, but one night they returned, to hand out the punishment they felt befitting of that broken pact.  

“Our dad did perhaps the only honourable thing he ever has as a father, and got on a horse, riding us out of there to the nearest church where he hid us away until the dawn. Vampires cannot walk upon hallowed ground, nor can they stand in the daylight, lest they burn to ashes. The rest of the camp weren’t so lucky. People were attacked, only very few surviving, but in a state of dread that one day, they’d be back. I suppose that day was last night, for I highly doubt she’s acting alone.” 

John immediately stared at Polly. “Did you know all of this?” 

She nodded in confirmation. “I did.” 

“So why the fuck didn’t you tell me last night?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing. 

“Because you were drunk as a lord, John. What I said was enough explanation without going into the finer details, of which I wasn’t sure you’d be able to absorb. I’m fucking surprised you comprehended even half of what I told you, to be frank.” 

John’s puzzlement was clear as it ghosted across his face, sighing as he rubbed his brow. “But it don’t make no sense. If she was here because she wanted us dead, some kind of further punishment for our kin breaking the pact, then why am I still alive? She could have had me head off, just the same as she did to Samuel fucking Rasmussen, but she didn’t.” He felt his heart flutter as he remembered how fondly she’d gazed upon him. God, she was such a beauty. 

Tommy shrugged lightly. “At a guess, I’d say she wants to rekindle the blood pact. Why she’d choose us and not one of the other families out there, well, I can’t answer that.” 

“Which means she probably wants something else from us, something greater,” a frowning Polly mused, the dread in her voice quite clear. It was a distinct change to her usual confident, self-assured tone. 

“And we’re not about to give her the chance to even broach it.” Tommy then turned to John, his eyes wide. “You’ll carry a silver knife upon your person from now on, as we all will. Her kind are not to be trusted. Killing that man, I suspect was to lure you into a false sense of security. Vampires are immortal; they have all the fucking time in the world to exact a plan. She’s biding her time.” 

“She didn’t only kill him,” John snorted, jerking his head to the right. “Coppers will find another three bodies somewhere out there soon enough.” 

Tommy rose to his feet, keen to move to his office and begin the day. “All the more reason not to trust her when she returns. Mark my words, John boy. She’ll be back. She’ll be back, I tell you, and it won’t lead to anything good.”  

All talk of vampires, blood pacts and a family history unknown to John meant that he could forget his pounding head for a short time. After his refuelling with toast and tea, he walked through to the offices, grasping the ledger and beginning to write, the space soon filling, the usual loud chaos abounding.  

Hangovers and mysterious, vampiric women aside, John’s day ended certainly more favourably than the previous. The favourite at Epson, Shamrock Pride pulled up lame in the fifth race, just as he was intended to. This netted a very tidy profit for them, John finishing his day with a spring in his step because of it.  

The Garrison for a whiskey or three? Whyever not.  

“Daddy?”  

The soft grasp of a tiny hand curled his little finger, John pausing from pulling on his overcoat to look down into the big, green eyes of his daughter, Katie carrying a book within her grasp.  

“You should be in bed, pige.” Pige. Short for pigeon, the fond pet name for his only child from his short marriage to Martha, his wife taken from him by the cruel clutches of consumption when Katie was mere baby in arms.  

Poking out her bottom lip, she proffered the book forth. The Velveteen Rabbit. It had to have been their fourth read through at that point, the book only published six months before. “Please?” 

He sighed softly through his nose. “Go on,” he spoke to his brother, “I’ll catch up with you.”  

Arthur nodded, leaving John to place his coat over the back of the fireside armchair there in the front room, adjusting his trousers as he sat, Katie scrambling onto his lap. “Right, where were we?”  

Opening the book, the cloth binding soft and velvety against his fingers, John laid the well-worn leather bookmark across Katie’s legs, stroking her strawberry blonde curls as he began to read. Ten minutes, give or take, and she would nod off with her little rosy cheeked face nestled against his chest.  

Eleven and a half minutes later, and the soft little piglet snorts of a babe in slumber filled the space, John smiling down at her. “Let’s get you up them stairs, eh, pige?” Once he’d placed her into her bed and covered her in blankets, he laid a kiss to her forehead, whispering his love before creeping out, overcoat thrown on and a cigarette lit before stepping out into the frigid night.  

Snowflakes fluttered down over the streets of Small Heath, John feeling winter tingle as his cheeks, the flames of the blast furnaces offering a roar of warmth as he passed them by, the lights of The Garrison twinkling through the inky gloom.  

“John.” 

The whisper of his name echoed through his ears, John turning, his eyes scanning for the source. Nobody. On he walked.  

“John.” 

It was louder than before this time as once again he halted, turning, looking for the female to whom the voice belonged. He almost dived out of his skin when upon his turn back, there she was.  

The vampire looked even more breathtaking to him than she had the night before. 

[zablife]

Lily

Tommy x Lily Shelby (OC)

Summary: Tommy attempts to deal with the aftermath of his wife and daughter's kidnapping.

Author's Note: Written for @runnning-outof-time 3K celebration Tales from the Flower Garden with the prompt "Promise you'll come back to me." Congratulations again, K!!

Warnings: heavy angst, mention of blood, child death, mention of murder, trauma, anxiety, catatonia, fighting, drinking

“Kill…kill…kill,” the words fell from her lips in haunting whispers. The only words she spoke since returning from the clutches of the Changretta family, covered in blood. There was so much it caked in her hair and under fingernails. She’d done terrible things, but exactly what transpired was locked inside her mind forever, the price she’d paid to return to Tommy far too great to be revealed. 

“You’re the only one who was there. What happened, Arthur?” Tommy begged to know. It was the question he’d asked day after day, but Arthur had been high on snow that night in the warehouse and the painful memory was erased in the white abyss. 

“Told ya, Tom, it was over when I got to her,” Arthur explained, reaching for the whiskey on the sideboard to stop the aching in his head. Tommy grabbed Arthur’s arm, stopping him with a dangerous glare.

“Have you lost your fucking mind, eh? My daughter’s dead and my wife’s a fucking ghost,” Tommy spat, shoving Arthur into the wall with all the force he could muster. “I won’t ask again. What do you remember?” he shouted, trembling with emotion.

Arthur struggled under Tommy’s iron like grip as he repeated Tommy’s words from the night his sister-in-law and niece were kidnapped. “Do it…do it or else they kill your daughter. Lily knew it was the only way.” 

“My fucking orders…” Tommy muttered as he released his brother from his grasp, stumbling backward as the guilt crushing his chest made it difficult to draw breath. 

“May God forgive ya,” Arthur said, looking at the ground. He wanted peace for his brother, but knew that was impossible. The vendetta Tommy and Luca had started was to blame for all the turmoil and nothing would change that now. 

Tommy rubbed a hand over his eyes as he exhaled a shaky breath. “You think anyone would forgive me now? Would you?” 

“Forgiveness is out of my hands,” Arthur said numbly, looking out toward the garden where Lily sat still as a statue. “It’s not for us to decide.”

Polly walked into the study at that moment, determined to pull Tommy from his work and back to his duties as a husband. “Tommy, you should go to her,” she urged, but he only stared out the window at his wife’s motionless profile. 

“And say what Pol?” he asked, shoulders slumped forward in defeat. 

“You don’t have to say anything. She just needs to know that you’re there,” she advised. It was the only thing anyone could do until Lily decided to return to them. However, she needed the support of her family.

The servants were doing most of the work caring for Lily because Tommy was too afraid to go near, worried he might inflict more damage on her tortured soul. As it was his wife screamed through the night and unless someone took her outdoors in the fresh air, she'd claw the walls until her fingers bled.

Tommy turned with a nod, acknowledging he’d heard his aunt’s words and shuffled toward the doorway to the gardens. Inhaling a deep breath at the threshold, he took a step onto the lush green grass and began a path toward his wife, squinting in the bright afternoon sunshine. He couldn’t deny the lovely warmth he felt on his face, but the aching dread in the pit of his stomach held off any pleasure he felt at the sensation. 

As he approached the bench where Lily sat, he hesitated momentarily. Although she hadn’t attempted it, she looked beautiful. Frances had dressed her like a china doll in a gown he'd chosen for her because she lacked the capacity to decide for herself. Her hair was fastened in a loose braid to keep her locks from her face and Tommy longed to stroke it, smelling the lavender bath salts she used.

God how he missed pressing her against his body, feeling her skin on his when he awoke, and wondered if she might feel the same. Since her return, she slept in a separate room. Tommy reminded himself it was best for her recovery. Her screams the first night she was home were proof she wanted nothing to do with him and why he had retreated instantly, so as not to make the pain worse. She was so fragile now, he worried one touch from him might break her.

Her back was ridged as he drew close, shoulders pulled backward tightly as though someone had forced her into position and her distant stare made him ill at the sight of her. She looked more like a waxwork than a human being. Tommy carefully took a seat next to her, leaving a small distance between them as he swallowed harshly. Did she even know he was there? he wondered. 

Then she stirred ever so slightly, hands raising from her sides to rest in her lap daintily and her head moved to glance over her shoulder. Her eyes didn’t fix on him, but Tommy knew she spied him from the corner of her eye and he cleared his throat to speak. The words would not come to him as his heart thundered in his chest. How could he apologize for what had happened? All that she had suffered because of him? 

A gentle breeze blew through the garden, lifting a few wisps of hair from her neck momentarily and Tommy caught the scent of her perfume mixed with the flowers from the garden. It was an intoxicating mix that reminded him of their days as newlyweds, caught up in the passion of early romance. They’d stroll the gardens after dinner and when the mood struck, he'd pull her into the flowerbeds, crushing the delicate petals as they made love. Lily chided Tommy for ruining her efforts at growing a proper garden, but secretly loved his affections. He smiled at the memory, but it was soon carried away as the breeze died down and he noticed his wife’s eyes staring back at him. 

“Lily? Darling, can you hear me?” he asked hopefully, slipping one large hand under both of hers. “I want to tell you something," he began hesitantly, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. When she didn't flinch, he continued earnestly, "I know you weren’t meant to be with a man like me. This isn’t the life you deserved and there are things I regret, but nothing more than leaving you to defend our daughter by yourself. Whatever happened with the Changrettas, I hope you’ll be able to forgive me one day." He searched her eyes for understanding, a lump forming in his throat as he choked, "It’s all my fault and I’d do anything to have you back.” Tommy’s eyes welled with tears as he spoke the words he hadn’t said out of fear or pride, but thought a thousand times before.

Lily’s chin raised slightly, lower lip twitching as though she would begin speaking at any moment and Tommy held his breath, anxiously waiting for her reply. Squeezing her hands gently, he noticed a slight change in the brightness of her eyes and he ran his thumb across the back of her hand to encourage her. However, after several minutes, no sound came from her parted lips and he sighed in agonizing defeat. Making one last desperate plea, he begged, “I can’t live without you, Lily. Promise you’ll come back to me.”

Continue reading their story here- Windflowers.

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[an-au-blog]

An Au where Henry gets the help he needs

Ok, not a direct answer, but a while ago I started thinking "what if in the "Alone At Home" episode where they leave and realized they forgot him, what if the car crash they got into killed them?" I know it's a grim thought but here I go:

Prissy Polly and Vomiting Vera arrive and they stay with the boys for a while. Surprisingly enough for both Henry and Ralph, she's not as much of a buzz kill as they thought. They go about their game but it's getting late and there's no sign of either of Henry's parents. Ralph left already as it was almost dinner time. Polly gets a bit worried and tries to call them but they don't answer. They try again and someone else picks up.

She's on the phone for a few minutes but then drops it in horror. Henry gets worried and then Polly tells him that his parents got into an accident. She starts crying, Vera with her and Henry just stands there. Frozen. They couldn't... well that was just ridiculous, they're probably just going to come home after a month in the hospital. Right?

But they didn't.

By law, he was supposed to live with the closest relative but Great Aunt Gretta would be a nightmare to live with. Henry didn't know how much time he could go on if she kept referring to him as a girl and buying things for "pretty young girls like you Henrietta". He could stay with Rick Aunt Ruby and his annoying cousin - Stuck-Up Steve, but he'd really rather not. Not like they wanted him anyways. His dad also had a brother but he lived far away and Henry had no idea if he could bear more changes. Finally, and Henry didn't know how it happened, but Polly and Paul decided that they were going to adopt him. At first he didn't like that idea either but once he moved in, it wasn't that bad. They never called him "Horrid" and whenever he did something good they praised him for it. They made him go to a child psychiatrist at the school, as it was strongly advised. The school didn't make them pay for it so there was that too... It was somewhat boring to Henry, they just wanted to talk about feeling and it felt a bit girly to him. But it also felt kind of nice... He started understanding things about himself a bit better and started feeling better too. He was still dealing with his parents' and little brother's deaths and the psychiatrist said that he was in a "mourning period". He had lost his spark and had no interest in anything. They also said he had something about attention and attitude? There was an abbreviation that sounded cool in his mind, but it basically meant that he couldn't keep his attention long, so it wasn't really cool. He started taking pills for it.

Once Paul saw Henry's love for music, he asked him if he wanted to get lessons. Henry refused. He hated school and didn't want more of it in any form. But then Paul made him go once as the first lesson was free and Henry loved it. He not only liked it but was also extremely good at it. He started with cello since he got the one his brother had, but then the teacher told him he should know a little piano too. So he switched to piano, but it was more boring to him, so he switched to guitar at the end (this happening in a prolonged period of time, each switch after a few years).

[runnning-outof-time]

Beach Day | Modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: no - but encouraged by @holacia3 with this ask

Pairing: Modern!Tommy Shelby x reader

Summary: (Y/N) manages to pull Tommy out of the office so that they can go on a trip. Once at their destination, they waste no time and have a much needed beach day. Or: Tommy forgets everything the second he sees (Y/N) wearing his shirt.

Warnings: language, some suggestive sentences

Word Count: 3332

A/N: this one’s probably going to flop, but I’m happy that I managed to finish it amidst the bout of writer’s block I’ve been experiencing. It was the other option on the poll I ran a few weeks ago. I haven’t got to take a trip to the beach this summer, so I decided to write about it instead. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: this will be the last story posted in July … I’m going on a trip with my family next week and most likely won’t have any major time to write the other requests. I’m hoping that maybe I’ll be able to write and share some of the blurbs that I’ve got in my asks, but big stories have been halted until August.

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories like this one!

"...and you can't argue with me because I've already packed your bags," (Y/N) ended her pitch in an assured tone, setting her confident gaze on her fiancé, who was sitting across from her...at his desk, of course.

Tommy opened his mouth to speak, but the door to the office opening stopped him. Both he and (Y/N) looked over to it to find Polly entering the room. "I'm going to need you to hand over your diary," she said, walking right over to the desk, extending her hand towards her nephew when she stopped in front of it.

"I'm guessing you got her in on this?" Tommy asked (Y/N), his eyebrows raised as he looked between both women.

"I did," (Y/N) nodded in an assured manner, a tight-lipped grin present on her face, "and you're not getting out of it."

"Everything's been handled. Go take a break, Thomas," Polly added, moving her fingers then to remind him that she was going to need his diary.

"So it's been settled then, eh?" he looked at (Y/N) again.

"It has been," she answered him, a victorious smile present on her face, "give her the diary, Tommy."

"If I must," he sighed dramatically as he picked it up from his desk and handed it over to his aunt, making a big deal over it. Inside he was glad that (Y/N) had planned this out...he'd been working tirelessly on the business' latest expansion and hardly had a moment to breathe, but yet he wasn't going to stop and take one for himself. (Y/N) realized that and took it upon herself to plan the forced holiday.

"You must," (Y/N) stayed stern on her point, although the smile she was wearing was full on her face now. Tommy took one more look at his fiancée and couldn't stop the smile from forming on his face. There was not a doubt in his mind that he was ready to relax with her.

——

By that time the next day, Tommy and (Y/N) found themselves checked into a private resort that sat right off of a beautiful beach.

After unpacking their luggage, Tommy made his way out to the living area of the suite they were staying in with the intention of checking in on how things were back at home. He was thankful that this resort had high-speed internet, because he couldn't stand to be disconnected for too long. The flight to the resort was already pushing the limits...nothing would connect in that damned airport.

It seemed as though (Y/N) had other ideas of what they should be doing next. She exited the bedroom the second he'd gotten comfortable on one of the couches. Taking one look at Tommy made her audibly sigh and drop her hand to hit against her thigh, the sound of it making him look up from the screen.

He immediately noted that she had changed. Her comfortable airport attire had been switched for a swimsuit and a loose, practically see through dress that she was using as a cover-up. A pair of sunglasses rested atop her head and flip-flops covered her feet. How she managed to get changed so fast completely perplexed him.

"You're back to thinking of work already?" she commented, a bit of an exasperated look filling her features.

"You know how I like to check on things," he stated, defending himself as he shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"I do know, but we're on holiday, Tommy," she pointed out.

"Yeah, but we just got here."

"Yeah...and I'm already ready to go down to the beach."

"I noticed that."

"Tommy..." (Y/N) sighed, a frown forming on her lips. She held her gaze on him for a moment, watching and waiting for him to say something, before continuing to speak when silence persisted. "I'm going to throw your bloody phone in the ocean if this is how this week's going to play out," she threatened him, her voice holding a more serious tone than it had before.

"Just let me do it now," he bargained with her, "I didn't know we were going to get into things so soon."

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she thought about his suggestion. She finally responded after letting silence hang in the air for a few moments, "fine. You can do it now, but please don't let it become a habit, ok? This was meant to take you away from work," she laid out her stipulations.

"Fair enough. I'll curb it for the rest of the week," he agreed to her counter-offer, nodding his head to seal the deal.

"Good," she nodded in response to his statement. A few beats of silence passed before she spoke again, "I'm going to go down to the pool and wait for you, ok?" she told him her plan.

"Ok," he agreed, watching her as she walked over to where he was sitting. "Look beautiful, baby," he couldn't resist giving her a compliment, his eyes running over her body.

"Thanks, Tommy," she smiled at him, her stomach filling with butterflies as she leaned down to press a kiss to his lips. "Don't be up here too long, hmm?" she mumbled against his lips after pulling away.

"I won't," he promised her, feeling her smile against his lips before they shared one more kiss. (Y/N) stood upright again, smiling and nodding at him once more before she moved back over the island that broke up the kitchen and living space.

"You know where to find me," she told him while making sure that her tote bag was filled with the essentials: beach towel, sun tan lotion, hotel room key, and, of course, her latest book. She looked over to him, watching as he nodded one last time, before she made her way to the door of the suite.

There weren't many people sitting by the pool, so (Y/N) was able to find an open lounge pretty quickly. She set her bag down next to the chair and then relaxed back against it. The ocean's waves could be heard from where she was, and the calming sound of them made her shut her eyes and take a deep breath. It was good to finally be able to take some time and actually relax.

As a senior member of the Shelby Company Ltd.'s marketing team, she was working just as much as Tommy was. Always coming up with new ways of advertising; always keeping up with the different avenues Tommy was taking the company down. It was tedious and time consuming, sure, but she wouldn't have it any other way...the job was how she met her fiancé, three years ago.

With both of their busy schedules, neither really had the time to take a moment and relax...until (Y/N) made a point to now. She was thankful for this trip, and she was sure that Tommy was, too.

Some time passed as she sat, relaxing on the pool lounge. She wasn't sure how long she'd been out there; she wasn't really keeping time as she switched between laying with her eyes closed and watching the other people meander about the pool area.

Luckily she was doing some people watching when Tommy came walking down the stairs and into the pool area of the resort. She spotted him as he was descending the steps, and immediately noticed that he'd changed into his beachwear. The white t-shirt and jeans he'd worn while traveling was now swapped for a pair of gray board shorts and a baby blue linen button down shirt. She couldn't help but stare at him as he walked across the area to get to where she was lounging.

"Ready to go down to the water?" he asked as he stopped in front of her lounge.

"I see you're finally finished with your work," (Y/N) commented, pulling her sunglasses down slightly to peer up at him.

He chuckled at her statement, shaking his head slightly as he looked out to the ocean, "yeah, and it's finished for the rest of the trip."

"If you say so," she brushed off the topic as she sat up on the lounge, collecting her bag and making sure that she had everything she'd come down with. "Let's go down to the beach," she said with a smile as she stood next to him. Tommy nodded his head before allowing her to lead the way to the gate that separated the pool area from the private beach that the resort offered.

The beach was beautiful. The sand was soft, and the breeze coming off of the waves made the hot rays of the sun not burn so bad. One of the perks of the resort having a private beach was the fact that there weren't many people inhabiting it.

(Y/N) and Tommy quickly found a spot to set their things down. (Y/N) made sure that the beach blanket Tommy had brought with him (because she'd forgotten it in the room) was laid out underneath one of the umbrellas the resort had set up. She set the bag down on it before kicking off her flip-flops and lifting the cover-up from her body.

"Let's go down to the water," she excitedly said, flashing a look in Tommy's direction before she took off towards the waves.

"You're not even gonna wait for me," he responded, moreso to himself than anyone, a smile forming on his face as he shook his head. He could easily tell how much she was already enjoying this holiday, and he was so thankful that she'd planned it for them. It took him a few moments to undo his button down and set it into the bag before he too kicked off his flip-flops and began walking down to the water.

He approached (Y/N), who was standing facing the waves, and wasted no time wrapping his arms around her midsection. His actions made her shriek at first, but she sunk into his embrace in seconds. "Isn't it beautiful?" she asked him, swaying slightly along with him.

"It is," he mused, resting the side of his head against hers as they looked out at the waves. "The water's not too cold either."

"It's not," she agreed, her hands coming up to sit on his forearms, "let's go in," she said then, tapping his arms to let him know she wanted to be released. He obliged, and she took his hand to lead him out deeper in the water.

They made their way out to where the water reached their waists, stopping there even though Tommy thought that they could go out a little bit further. (Y/N) protested his suggestion, telling him that 'things might eat us if we go any further'. Tommy listened to his fianceé's statement and stayed where they were. They spent a good amount of time in the water, switching from swimming around, to floating with the waves, to (Y/N)'s personal favorite: hanging onto Tommy like he was a tree and she was a koala.

At least an hour of them spending time in the water had to have passed before Tommy finally decided to start heading towards the shore. His movement, of course, didn't go unnoticed. "You're leaving me?" (Y/N) questioned after she saw him take a few steps backwards. She was enjoying herself in the water and had had no plans of leaving it any time soon.

"I think I'm ready to get out of the water," he answered with the obvious.

"We've not been in here long though," she pouted.

"I need to go sit for a minute, love. I'll be just up there," he told her, motioning to where their things were. (Y/N)'s pout didn't subside, but she nodded and allowed him to leave the waves.

She watched him walk up the beach and sit down on the blanket they'd laid out. Her eyes lingered for a few moments before she went back to floating on the waves.

It wasn't long before (Y/N) was exiting the water and walking up to where Tommy had made himself comfortable. It just wasn't the same wading in the waves alone. She wanted to spend as much time with Tommy as she possibly could. A sight - that she honestly wished she'd be surprised to see - was waiting for her at the blanket though.

"I thought you said you'd ditch the work while we're here?" she commented as she stopped in front of Tommy, who had his face buried in his smartphone as he tapped away at the screen.

Her voice made him quickly look up, a surprised expression forming on his face as he noticed she was right in front of him. "I was just checking a few things," he told her, holding his hands up in surrender, his now locked phone present in one of them.

"Mm-hmm," (Y/N) shook her head as she moved over to where the bag was sitting so that she could grab a towel and dry off, "you do know the ocean's right there, right? I could honestly take that phone and give it a good chuck," she stated, making sure her body was dry.

"You wouldn't," Tommy responded, a slight tone present in his voice, showing that he was testing the waters.

"I just might," she quipped back, a grin on her face as she dropped the towel back into the bag.

Before she could move to sit next to him, light blue fabric caught her eye. She instantly recognized it as the linen button down Tommy was previously wearing. She picked it up without a second thought, draping it over her shoulders and slipping her arms through the holes. It covered her swimsuit clad body immediately and she was grateful for the soft, cool fabric on her otherwise warm skin. She'd just finished rolling the sleeves up to her elbows when she finally felt Tommy's eyes on her.

Tommy had been watching her from the second she came back to the blanket. His phone was quickly forgotten as he watched her dry off and then grab the shirt from the bag. Sure, she had her own cover-up, but he was so damn happy that she'd chosen to slip his shirt on over her body. Something about her wearing his clothes just got him going. Just when he thought she couldn't get any more beautiful, she went ahead and did something like this. He couldn't help but let his eyes travel up and down her frame.

(Y/N)'s eyes finally found his when he found her face once more, and she couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in her stomach as she noticed the look he was giving her. She wanted to make a comment, but it died in her throat as she just about melted under his stare.

"C'mere," Tommy finally spoke, nodding his head to the side as a non-verbal addition to his statement. She grinned at him and happily followed his direction, moving over to where he was sitting.

He brought his knees up and opened his legs slightly, offering her the perfect spot to sit down in; one that she quickly fell into. She easily got comfortable sitting between his legs; her back rested against his chest. Tommy wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her, pulling her even closer to his body as he leant over and began pressing kisses to the side of her neck.

"Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally trying to squirm away from his lips as his actions quickly became ticklish. He listened to her and stopped his kisses, but he didn't dare loosen up the grip that he had on her.

It was easy for his hands to find their way onto her body, being that she'd left the shirt open, and he couldn't help but let them roam her figure. He took his time, feeling every curve as he nestled his face into her neck; breathing in the sweet smell of her skin mixed with the sunshine that had been kissing it since they exited the hotel room. (Y/N) had practically melted into his body, absolutely loving the feeling of his hands as they traced her skin.

She waited until his hands found their resting spot on the sides of her waist, his arms crossed over her stomach, to finally speak again: "I see that I've got your mind off of work now," she said with a grin, turning her head so that she could see his face out of the corner of her eye.

"Oh you most certainly have," he answered, a grin laced into his words, "look so fuckin' beautiful in my things...always, baby," he mumbled against the skin of her cheek before he kissed it.

The butterflies returned as she heard what he had to say, and she couldn't stop herself from turning in his arms even more so that she could press her lips to his in a much needed kiss. "Love you, Tommy," she mumbled against them, smiling as he kissed her again, this kiss holding more emotion than the last. "I can't wait for the rest of this week with you," she said once they'd finally pulled away from each other. She was now sitting with her body turned more towards him, so she was able to look at him head on. She couldn't stop her cheeks from heating up as she caught the look of total adoration in his eyes.

"If this is a preview of what's to come..." he trailed off, a grin forming on his face as his eyes danced over her figure once more, "I already know that this trip is going to be one that's hard to top."

His cheeky comment that was accompanied by a rather suggestive glance, made (Y/N) gasp, and she couldn't help but roll her eyes and shake her head as she tried to distract herself from how his words actually made her feel. Why did there have to be other people present on this beach?! She had to look towards the ocean for a few moments to re-center herself from the look that was making her wonder what they could get away with out here.

A few moments had passed before she felt the sharp snap of her swimsuit's strap against her skin. "Tommy!" she shrieked at the sensation, her eyes snapping back onto him to see that a smug grin was now present on his face. He tried, and failed, to feign innocence before his expression dissolved into a grin and chuckles. "I can't believe you," she shook her head, gently pressing on his shoulders for him to get the hint to lay back on the blanket.

She wasted no time in pressing her lips to his when he did lay down, and he made a mental note to do things such as that more often if this was going to be how she responded to it.

After sharing a flurry of kisses, (Y/N) rested her head against his chest, not caring about the shine of sweat that was present due to the heat of the sun that was engulfing them. She was thankful for the shade that their umbrella was providing.

Tommy wrapped his arms around the small of her back underneath the shirt of his that she was still wearing, effectively holding her close to him...like she was going to be moving any time soon. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the serenity that was surrounding them; not thinking about anything but the beautiful woman laying with him.

Like he'd said before: if this was a preview of how the week was going to go, this was most definitely going to be a tough trip to top.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

[willowhaired]

Practice

Tommy Shelby × Reader

Summary: You and Tommy were long time friends. Although most around you believed there was more between the two of you.

Word count: 1,645

Warnings: blood, mentions of physical abuse, a little steamy?

A/N: it was a spur of the moment idea but i hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing.

You brushed your hair for what must have been the thousandth time. It was more so to calm your nerves than anything; after the third cigarette, lighting a fourth one felt excessive. Still, worry was not about to leave your mind.

You and Tommy had been friends since you were younger - and that friendship remained even after he returned from the war. He came back a different man, there was no doubt about it. He talked less, thought more, and kept everyone at arm's length. Except for you.

It had grown dark since he left your place. It was due to a heated conversation (no, argument), that he stormed out of the door. 'What's that?' He asked as his eyes fell on your bare arms. You shrugged it off, avoiding his eyes. 'Nothing. Just some bruises, that's all.' Tommy strode by your side and grabbed your arm rather forcefully, halting you in your housework. 'And how d'you get "some bruises" like that, ey?' He questioned. 'Are you covering for James?' 'And if I do? Are you gonna hit me, too?' You tore your arm from his grip.

You shouldn't have said that. Anger flashed through Thomas' face before turning and rushing out without another word. The front door slammed shut so loudly, it echoed in the house.

Tommy never liked James and he made no effort to conceal it. Truth to be told, these days you were starting to understand his dislike towards your boyfriend.

This happened hours ago, and you felt terrible, still. You wondered where he must've gone, if he'd ever return or if you'd only see him two weeks from now. Maybe you should send word to Polly to tell him you're sorry. His aunt always had a mischievous grin on her face whenever the two of you spent time together. It seemed that she had suspected or rather, known, there was something more to the friendship between the two of you.

You had always been giddy around him as a teen, and you never denied that he was handsome. But you and Tommy? That seemed like a crazy suggestion.

Okay, maybe the two of you even kissed before. You were curious how it must feel like, after seeing couples giggling by the old Garrison. Your young brain thought it was disgusting, getting someone else's face so close to you, having them shove their tongue down your throat; yet somehow, you would have been okay with it, as long as it was Tommy. So you suggested to him that the two of you should give it a try. Though he was reluctant at first, it did not take much persuasion to get him on it as well. It was practice, after all. Or maybe, just maybe, you craved control. You wanted your first kiss to be him and his, you.

You, him - you were a lot more alike than what met the eye.

So you practiced: it was innocent enough. At first. Bloody good experience, too: you instructed him what to do differently and he wasn't shy about voicing his opinion either. 'Maybe a bit softer.' 'Softer than this?' He looked at you from behind heavy eyelids. The gas lamp flickered in the night breeze, redrawing the shapes of his face. They were so different from what they look like now. 'Yes. Like…' you began, but instead placed feather-like, wet kisses on his lips. Tommy was stunned at first, then reciprocated it the same, until you felt your body getting warmer. Without your knowing your movements became more eager. 'Well, that isn't softer,' he chuckled and you pulled away, red to the tip of your ears. He grabbed your shoulder and pulled you back close to him. 'I didn't say I didn't like it.'

Thus it was innocent enough until it wasn't. Until one day you realised you were looking forward to your practice sessions and not because of the learning but because you enjoyed it so much. You craved him running his hands up your arms, his body flushed against yours, his lips. It no longer seemed disgusting.

Not to mention he turned out to be a fucking good kisser.

The thought of another girl getting to enjoy that, to have him, drove you insane. It was the only thing occupying your mind until the war washed it all away. Even though you were not religious, you had visited the church with Pol weekly, praying. You didn't mind Tommy kissing another girl as long as he came back alive. So you prayed by the candlelight for the boys' safe return, much like you did now. Your wishes were granted then… Perhaps this time would be no different.

Sure enough, Tommy stormed back in through your door just the way he left. You felt relieved, even a smile playing at the edges of your mouth before you saw him covered in blood.

You stopped in your tracks. It wasn't the first time he barged into your home soaked in blood but you never knew if it was his or somebody else's. You never asked. 'Your boyfriend won't raise a hand on you again,' he announced with a cigarette still dangling from his mouth. 'Tommy… You didn't…?' you muttered in disbelief and he put the cigarette out. 'No, he isn't dead, but he knows he will be if he ever hurts you again.' You knew this meant that James was unlikely to dare to come close to you ever again, even if you would've wanted him to. This was why you had no man courting you aside from him; most of Birmingham assumed you and Tommy were together, and the rest was too afraid of the Shelby family to at least talk to you. After a few, but eternally long seconds of silence, you huffed angrily and helped him out of his blazer. 'I should get you a fuckin' apron next time,' you grunted as you knelt by a tub to wash the garment. The redness bled into the cold water, unraveling its metallic smell. Tommy was soon by your side, washing his shirt next to you. Once his clothes were spotless, you grabbed a towel and dipped it into the water. You turned back to Tommy and began scrubbing away the specks of blood from his face. It must have been for the sharp contrast with the deep redness, but his eyes appeared bluer than they usually did. He was staring at you intently until you couldn't take it anymore: 'What?' 'Your face is funny when you're angry.' You stared back at him before slapping him with the towel. He chuckled but was not slow with a counterattack: he tickled your sides and it earned a squeal from you. You threw the towel into the tub and swung yourself against him with full force, which made the two of you land on the floor, tickling and wrestling each other. You both laughed, a sound you missed so much from Tommy since France. It felt like you two were young again and Somme still so far. With a swift move, Tommy overpowered you. He rolled on top of you, pinning your hands above your head. You wanted to laugh off the tension but his lips brushed against yours. It must've been a mistake. But it happened again. Then he gently kissed your lower lip. Then another wet, soft peck. Then a longer one before brushing his lips against yours again.

He looked at you almost apologetically: 'I thought I needed some practice.' 'I don't think you do,' you retorted breathlessly. He released your wrists. 'I don't want you to be hurt,' he followed, seemingly with no rhyme or reason. He brushed through your hair, pushing his nose against your face. 'You let me know if anyone touches you again.' 'I doubt anyone would come close to me after you've beaten James up,' you laughed. 'Good,' he pushed his body against yours. 'I don't want anyone near you.' 'Tommy, at this rate, I will have no husband,' your voice broke at his closeness. He left a trail of kisses towards your jawline. 'In France… I was thinking about kissing you,' he whispered into your ear with his deep voice and it sent shivers down your spine. 'Pol always said we'd marry. Would I be a husband you'd like?' 'Do I have another choice?' you joked once awake from your stupor. He looked at you with a grin and a playful flicker in his eyes. 'Of course. You can be an old spinster chasing lovebirds: "get away from my window you bloody kids!"' he imitated a shrill, old voice and you rolled on top of him: 'Tommy Shelby!' 'Or, you can be Mrs. Shelby. I think that'd suit you better.' 'Of course you do, you rascal.' 'And what about you?' He asked, with a seriousness on his face that did not match the playful tone from moments ago. 'Mrs. Shelby, huh? I've been called that so many times it would make no difference,' your chuckle was silenced by him grabbing your waist. You looked at him. 'I fuckin' meant it, Y/N,' he insisted. 'D'you wanna marry me?' It finally reached your mind. The two of you had joked about it so often, you chalked it up to being another one of those incidents. Sometimes you even played into it, just to nag his family. "Oh, my dear husband, did you hear that? Arthur said we should go to Hell together; it sounds like a lovely place…"

Now your friend was there, under you, after beating up your boyfriend and he proposed. The warm light of the fireplace danced around his cheekbones - he looked so much more like himself, the Tommy you saw off to the train. You leant down and kissed him before breathing on his mouth: 'Being Mrs. Shelby sounds amazing.'

[nixie-writes]

Millie and cousin!female!grumpy!y/n headcanons

-y/n is raised by Millie's parents since her parents mysterious disappear

-y/n is a lesbian and have a girlfriend named Polly

-like Millie's parents,Y/n didn't like moxie at first but grew to respect him

-favorite animal is horses

-Millie was a burst of sunshine. She glowed with happiness and loved to share her happy mood with everyone. Everyone except you. You were on the grumpier side and didn't care much for her happy-go-lucky attitude.

-after your parents' mysterious disappearance Millie's parents, your aunt and uncle, took you in. They raised you as their own and treated you the same way they treated the rest of their kids: with tough love and encouragement.

-so when you finally confessed to them that you were lesbian and had a girlfriend named Polly you were expecting them to have an outburst. Sallie May was still in the closet about being trans and you feared your adoptive parents would have something negative to say about you and Polly.

-instead they just gave you a pat on the back and thanked you for telling them. They had kinda already guessed you and Polly were together, seeing how much time you spent with them. After their positive response you encouraged Sallie May to be open about being a trans woman and she did, receiving praise and thanks for being honest about herself, and they agreed to call her by her preferred name.

-when Millie married Moxxie you couldn't help but think she could do better. He was a sensitive type who, yes was good with guns, but otherwise was a wimp. You didn't like him at first.

-when Millie, Moxxie and their boss Blitzo (who insisted the O was silent) visited you spent more time with Moxxie, doing gun training and weapons training. You participated in the pain games, beating him by a country mile but you respected he was willing to try.

-you learned that you and Blitzo had a love for horses. You appreciated their manes and loved to spend time with the ranch horses. You introduced him to your horses and he was ecstatic, petting them all and taking selfies with them.

-when Moxxie gave his speech about Millie being strong enough for both of them you were surprised to see him standing up for himself for once. Usually he'd let Millie do all the talking and fighting but you knew Moxxie fought Striker himself, with the help of Blitzo, and defended Millie when her parents were getting onto her about not being strong enough to fend against Striker. Just like your adoptive parents you found a newfound respect for Moxxie and gave him a pat on the back as you headed back into the house to make lunch.

[saintsir4n]

19

WARNINGS: MENTIONS OF WAR

1914

"YOU'VE got a what?" Finn asked, the expecting couple.

Isaiah's gasped, "In where?"

Days had passed since the celebratory drink in honour of another Shelby baby and the boys were still confused about all of it, so Tommy and Eden pulled them aside from their learnings to explain as much as possible, considering he and his brothers would be leaving in very soon.

"How is a baby in there?" Isaiah turned to his best friend.

"Sex," Finn answered, despite not knowing what he was saying.

The couple looks at each other in shock watching the two interact.

"How does he..." Eden was too stunned so Tommy took over.

"Boys, Eden's got a baby in her tummy, just like Martha did –"

"-- she might again," Eden mumbled, luckily only Tommy heard but she gave him an 'I'll tell you later' look and he continued.

"The baby will come when I'm not here, so you two need to be on your best behaviour," Tommy instructed, leaning down as they stared up at him with their innocent faces, "no messin' around, no gettin' on her nerves, just be good, alright?"

His words went straight over their heads, "Does that mean I still get sweets?" Finn asked no one in particular.

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, "Finn you've been told you're gonna be an uncle for the second time and you're worrying about sweets."

The Shelby boy awaited an answer.

"Yes, you'll get sweets Finny and another niece," Eden reassured him.

His brows pinched together, "What's that?"

Finn understood that he was an uncle but nothing more than that.

"Is it a girl?" Isaiah questioned, folding his arms, when he received a nod, the boys exchanged grimaces, "Ewww."

Immediately they ran off and went back to their books, leaving the couple alone.

"What the fuck?" Eden blinked rapidly.

Tommy took her hand, before palming her stomach once again.

"Now that's done, let's go," he said, nodding to the basket on the floor.

"But what's up with 'em?"

"Fuck knows."

__

Two days, the lads were leaving in two days. Tommy's heart hammered in his chest at the thought, nevertheless, he promised Eden a perfect day, filled with chocolate slices, sandwiches and a flask of tea. She wore the sweetest frock she could dig out of her closet, it was cheery red, matching the colour of her lips. He adorned a crease-free shirt which was concealed by his favourite navy blue jumper, his shoes were polished, and the gifted horseshoe and box were in his slacks.

Despite not carrying his gun with him, he decided the blades in his cap would suffice and along with the knife he knew that clung to Eden's thigh, they would be safe.

They rode Shadow once again, this time Eden was much more relaxed and free, the light wind combed through Tommy's hair and luckily didn't move a strand of hers, being that she styled it into a low bun.

After tying the horse to a nearby tree, they found the spot overlooked the city, allowing them to spread out the blanket and sit down, basking in the heat.

The sun felt like hot kisses against Eden's skin, leaving her with tints of amber, drawing Tommy's attention as he pulled out all the food he'd spent making up that morning. She was everything he dreamt of and more, the very thing that he yearned for in both body and spirit, she challenged him in ways he hated to love and often drove him to madness, but brought him back with only the right sequence of words. Eden bloody Dawkins, she was his home.

"What?" she felt his stare.

Tommy simply cocked his head to the side, raising his brow at her as a smile tugged at his lips.

"Aren't I simply a dream Tom?" she teased, winking at the man.

"That you are my love."

Eden bashfully laughed at his response and started to dig into the spread, she carved anything and everything, the previous night she'd woken up Tommy so he could make her some rose tea, he didn't have a clue of what she was on about and cautiously told his aunt about it. Polly wasn't pleased with being pulled out of her slumber but aided him anyway.

"How's the little one treatin' ya?" he gently palmed the slight swell of her stomach.

"Can't feel much, bumps don't show properly for another two months," when you're away, she wanted to add, but decided not to, "nausea's died down for now."

"Can see that," he nodded to a half-eaten sandwich in her hand, making her snort.

"And you can say it's a girl, Tom unless you don't believe your aunt," she gave him a pointed look.

"I believe her, things might change, just being realistic."

"'Cause you want a boy?"

"Did I say that?" his hand didn't leave her stomach as he picked up the flask.

"Y'know she's a girl, so you're not havin' a peaky blinder," she narrowed her eyes at him, "but by the grace of god, we have a boy he ain't becomin' a blinder Thomas alright? Promise me." he shrugged, making her hit his forehead, "You promised a perfect day so promise me."

He nodded after gulping down some tea, "Alright, I promise... if it's a boy he ain't becoming a blinder," he paused, "I'll make sure he goes to London and becomes one of those established toffs."

She scrunched up her face, "Ugh, I think I'd prefer a blinder."

They both started to laugh, but in truth wanted a bright future for their child, their children, not wanting them to be subjected to the same misfortunes they inherited, but it was a lot to ask for, let alone dream about. Money could change a lot, but it couldn't change blood.

"You thought of any names?" she asked, as he rested his head in her lap.

His eyes fluttered shut, "A few."

She gently patted him, "Spill."

He inhaled sharply, "It's a lot to ask..."

"Go on."

"Somethin' to do with my mum," his reply had her intrigued.

"Mara Shelby," he stiffly nodded at her mention, "it's a pretty name," she said smiling.

"Esme too," he added, recalling how he and John were up a couple of nights ago talking about it. Arthur joined in, and so did Ada before they passed out in the front room.

"Esmerelda," she liked how it rolled off her tongue.

He chuckled before saying the next, "Pollyanna, but don't tell Pol 'bout that."

"Secret safe with me," she giggled.

"You thought of any?"

"Nothing's come to mind, none have felt right, my mum told me that she spent months thinkin' of what to call me and then changed her mind on the day," she said, combing her hand through his thick locks.

"Really?"

"Yeah, spontaneous thing right?"

"Sounds it," as a man who made part of their child, he didn't want to influence Eden too much with the name of the baby, but the fact she was taking his input made him grateful.

"Just picturing the little girl, runnin' 'round, with a dog chasing her..." her eyes fluttered shut at the image.

"A dog, what one?" he questioned, envisioning the image also, it made his heart swell.

"Bullmastiff," she breathed out.

His eyes fluttered open. "Those big dogs?"

"Yeah, family dogs apparently, but can be brutal when needs be," she continued with the vision, believing it would be the perfect addition to the home they already dreamt of.

"Ballmastiff it is, anything else Mrs Shelby?" and with that question her eyes snapped open, glancing down at the smirking man.

She swallowed the lump at the back of her throat, "Not Mrs. Shelby yet, haven't even popped the question."

"That's true," Tommy sat up, then rose on one knee, rendering Eden to softly chuckle behind her shaking hand, "Now, I was gonna do this a while ago, back when I got permission from your parents. And yes even your dad gave me 'is blessin', a shock to me and all, but I promised I wasn't gonna fuck this up, and I'm not am I?"

"No, you aren't, keep it up."

"Been thinkin' of all the ways I was gonna ask you this, dreamin', talkin' talk my self 'bout how I was gonna ask you to be my wife, did it so often Pol thought 'bout 'avin' me admitted," a teary laugh escaped her at his confession. "So I thought what would my Edie do when she's stuck? She'd write it down wouldn't ya love?"

"I would," she admitted.

"But I couldn't do that," he jokily tutted, making her laugh even more, "I scrapped the paper and thought speakin' from the heart was better, even though I think I'm doin' a crap job at it, but you're smilin'" her smile reached her teary eyes, making his heart hammer once more, "best smile I've ever seen, the brightest too," his voice cracked slightly, "and a great woman once said 'you have to be a bright ball of fire to be seen' and I've never not seen you, Eden. You're everything to me, my bright ball of hope, Christ how sappy is that?"

"Keep goin'" She softly nudged him, despite her tears.

"Oh right," he reached into his back pocket, "even before that little one starting growin' inside you, I was gonna propose. We speak about the future and mine wouldn't be right — it couldn't be without you in it. You've always been in it, so Eden Mary Dawkins would you –"

"Yes," she practically fell into his arms, covering his face with kisses.

"Darlin' I 'aven't shown you the ring yet or properly asked the question."

"Fine, ask me," she playfully rolled her eyes, not letting go of him.

"Will you marry me?"

"Yes, it was always gonna be yes," she exclaimed.

An uncharacteristically wide smile broke out on his face as he produced a small box, but that didn't stop her from kissing him and he immediately kissed back, flooding her with feelings that burst through his chest and she did the same, swirling his mouth with the joy that took over her.

Pulling away, he presented her with a ring, that she squealed out, much to his shock, sure it shone in the sunlight, but he didn't think it was much, in honesty he thought she would hate it, but it was the best he could do.

"Brought it for cheap, don't be mad," he said, settling down onto the blanket again.

Her brows furrowed slightly, "And why would I be mad?"

"You deserved better."

"It's perfect," she wasted no more time and slid it onto her finger.

She even laughed when he fitted his cap onto her head.

My secret blinder, he thought.

She wouldn't stop looking at the ring, so he took his time to speak again, "I want us to have the best weddin', but can't do it now only when I come back, so promise me you'll tell people we're married."

"For protection?..."

"Exactly, protection, our little Shelby needs it, just like you," he and his family agreed to it as well, making sure to spread the word that they'd wed, so no one questioned it. Even asking Jeremiah to pretend he performed the ceremony and Polly to put together a fake marriage certificate.

"'Course," she smiled at him, watching as he slipped on a wedding band of his own. "Should we make up our own vows then?"

"If you want," he couldn't stop smiling.

"Well, I... promise to be loyal to you, always, mind body and soul."

He let out a nervous chuckle, "Not to love ey?"

"You can love someone and hurt 'em right?" she blurted out, eyes widening at the words she spoke. It was out of experience she wanted to be cautious, she loved Tommy and he loved her, but the future they planned wouldn't be plane sailing. "I promise to always love you, also, but loyalty, our loyalty to each other can't be brought, or made, it was always there, alright?"

Tommy couldn't disagree despite himself.

"I promise to be loyal to you, always, mind body and soul."

They sealed that vow with a kiss, arguably far more meaningful and sacred than the last.

The sun brightened, bearing witness to the faux wedding, shining down on their rings with its harsh rays, before Tommy turned to whisper something to her bump, putting on voices for his daughter to hear, making his fiancé laugh at his utter foolishness as she ran her fingers through his hair. Thirty weeks left of her pregnancy to go and Tommy had to make the most of this moment, imagining what their child would look like before she popped out.

He was about to go through the flames of war, but right now all he could think of was his family, and how he would make sure to cherish them, despite how little time he had.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

a/n:

for a while, i was trying to figure out how far along eden is and she's roughly two months pregnant, give or take a week.

we all know when it comes to tommy loyalty is more vital than love, merely because he's committed atrocities in the name of love and family, so he's really not one to be trusted.

how did you find this chapter? the proposal? the happiness between teden?

next time chapter will be the last before the epilogue and bonus chapter, guys so might want to bring some tissues.

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter thirty five

Isaiah

I sat beside Bonnie on a deep red leather sofa in Tommy's office. The younger lad didn't exactly look uncomfortable to be here but I could tell he wasn't so used to long afternoons of knitted brows and Arthur Shelby's fucking pacing. I wondered if he knew the extent to which the trouble Tommy had called us in to discuss really stretched. The roots to which the rot had already penetrated.

When he'd first called everyone in for a debrief the office had been packed. Everyone had answered his middle of the night call to arms, his brothers and his right hand men, the travellers who had arrived in a steady flow throughout the night until there were caravans and trucks littering the lane like a steady flowing river all the way up the road to arrow house. Everyone had stacked into the office to listen to him. The bringer of bad news. He'd talked of the vendetta, the war about to waged not only upon his family but any family honest enough to honour their bond with the Shelby's.

I'd stood behind my father in his chair and listened to grave retelling of the hit on Arthur and John. I'd seen the photographs taken of Michael in his barely alive condition. I'd swallowed a lump when Polly had teared up, when she'd had to lean on Arthur to hold herself up straight. I'd stood by and listened as Tommy doled out orders to each and every man. No one left unaccounted for. No one without a role to play. I'd nodded to my father when Tommy had patted him on the shoulder, shown him the sign of the cross and sent him away. I'd watched everyone else leave until only myself and Bonnie Gold remained.

"Sit down lads," said Tommy, "make yourselves at home it's gonna be a long night." He'd met my gaze with a quiet look of confirmation, as if to tell me 'I know what you're thinking and you're right.'

I knew what was coming next. Knew enough about the wayward Fens who had all but abandoned the family and rejected the name Shelby. All but forgotten their darker roots. The Fens who went by the name Gray these days and who spent their lives wrapped up in luxury, all grace and class.

I'd known then just what it was he had in mind for us. Not Bonnie though, he was sitting there, quite comfortably, one arm outstretched along the back of the sofa, taking in his surroundings with that quiet smirk he so often seemed to wear. We'd always gotten along, me and Bonnie, but I'd always known we were cut from a completely different cloth. "As you know I'm bringing the whole family in until I've deciphered exactly what and who is threatening us, the Changrettas and Z

Sabinis have declared war on me and my blood and until we know exactly how to fight it i want everyone who may be at risk right where I can see them... Now, Arthur's gone to fetch Ada and the kid back up from London, and when she gets here I'm sure she'll give me hell for dragging her back, but I'm not really worried about Ada. She's a sensible lass and she knows the risks that come with the Shelby name, she's seen enough shit to take all this seriously and she won't want any harm to come to little Karl so I expect that once she's said her piece she'll toe the line..." When he paused he took a sip of whiskey and he smirked.

"But, the same cannot be said for my other little sisters.." He sighed and I couldn't help but chuckle as he poured a glass for me and one for Bonnie.

"Why do I get the feeling whatever you're about to ask us is gonna require more than a sip of whiskey Mr Shelby..." Smirked Bonnie, his cheeky smile not quite matching up to the grey trouble in his eyes. He wasn't naive.

"Drink up soldier." I said with a dry smirk which did little to ease the tension rising in the room.

The Fens didn't have a lot to do with their brothers or the family in general, I'd grown up in the bossom of the Shelby's, half raised by Aunt Polly myself and still only seen those girls a handful of times. The last of those times being when little Sonya and Sylvia Shelby were 11 years old in ballet frocks, still small enough that they could sit one on each of John's hips, their hair in little french plaits, still so similar you couldn't tell who was who.

I'd seen them since of course, it wasn't as if they'd been forgotten about by their family and their Aunt Pol was so proud of them that whenever a new video, a new photograph emerged online of them on the stage she'd make sure everyone saw it at least ten times. They cropped up in the Rags often enough too, the primadonnas with mafia ties, dainty little socialites with all their sophisticated talents, whose money came from drugs, murder and all kinds of corruption. If one of us ever made an appearance in court, if one of us ever got caught up in another violent clash, if we were photographed leaving a notorious club in the wrong end of town, you could almost guarantee that some lowlife pap had done their best to get a photo of the delicate ballerinas in distress somewhere outside their school or the theatres.

As they'd gotten older they'd done their best to distance yourself, but how far can you ever really get from the Shelby shadow. And they were, after all, their brothers sisters. As children they'd been tearaways and if there was one thing I'd learned knowing Ada as well as I did, it was that the wildness is never quite tamed. The Shelby curse never skips a generation.

No, I might not have known them so well, but I knew enough to know that Bonnie was right. If Tommy was about to ask us to guard his little sister's, I was gonna need more than a swig of whiskey to temper me through the trouble they would cause.

"Isaiah, you'll remember the Fens," said Tommy, "so I'm sure you can answer our lads questions eh?" He was smirking and I could tell he was holding back not for my sake but for Bonnie's. "No," he said then, cracking a wider grin, "no, Sonya's quite tame, emotional but tame," he said but the look in his eyes told us both he wasn't finished. "To be quite candid with you boys I haven't spoken to my little sisters for a long time, and perhaps I don't know them quite as well as I would like to now but, they made it very clear a long time ago that that was the way it was to be. They won't want to come home, in fact I should imagine this house is the last place they'd think to call home these days, sorry as that seems," I knew he'd added that for Bonnie's benefit, because Bonnie's family were tight, because he'd been raised much like Tommy, to value family above all else. "But circumstances have changed and so home they must come... And when they get here they're under your care, I want you to stick to them like glue, never a second out of your sight. It's like I said, I don't know them half as well as I should and so, I can't trust them half as much as I would like... I don't know that they'll listen to us or believe us when we tell them of the threats hanging over their heads, we've always done our best to keep them out of the family business and so, as much as I'm sure they'd like to believe they understand what we do, they don't. They don't know anything, don't understand the dangers... They're far more vulnerable than I'd like to believe, a mistake of my own making I'm sure, and I'm not gonna be around all the time to keep them safe. Can't guarantee my brother's will be here either. That's why I need you two to keep and eye on them... More than that I need you to look after them like you would your own sisters."

"Course Tommy," I said, nodding, saving my words because the gravity of the situation was looming and I could see the devotion in his eyes. There was a fear there he didn't often show, a grave shadow in his eyes.

"I know they haven't been around for a long time, don't even call themselves Shelby anymore, but theyre still family and they're fucking precious, so you keep them safe... No matter what happens that's you're priority from here on out, don't give a fuck what you have to risk for them, don't give a fuck if you put your own life on the line... Those girls come first alright?"

"Understood Mr Shelby." Nodded Bonnie, a grave look in his own eyes now as he watched the floor, slight downward turn of his head, thoughtful. We looked the same then, with our caps shadowing our eyes. The two of us taking it in, bearing the weight cast upon our shoulders.

"Now there's another matter too, should the worst happen..."

"Ain't gonna happen Tom..." I started, teeth gritted because I recognised the doom in his voice.

"Should the worst happen..." He reiterated, "and we lose this war, if someone gets a hit on me or any of my brothers, if you can see the dominoes begin to fall..."

Bonnie had had his hand in his pocket until now but as Tommy's tone took a darker tone his hand wandered and his fingers stroked his chin and then the back of his neck. He had a faraway look in his eyes and I wondered what depressive imagery was shadowing his mind in that moment. Forced myself not to think about it, knew I couldn't afford to let those kinds of thoughts in.

"If me and my brothers fall I want you to get those girls as far away from here as you can... You make sure they live and you keep your duty to this family, to me, for as long as they live..." If I'd had any doubt in my mind about Tommy's ability to survive anything then it would have been an unreasonable request. But I didn't. So I didn't pay it any mind. Just nodded my head and swore on my life without a second thought. Telling myself it wouldn't matter anyway. Because the war wouldn't last more than a week or two. Because we would come out on top the way we always did.

"It won't come to it Tommy," I said, "but you have my word."

"And mine," said Bonnie a moment later before he rested his chin in the L of his thumbs, hands pressed palm to palm as if in prayer. And perhaps that's what he was doing. I knew I had the urge to return to my father's church and kneel at the alter in that moment. Ask someone to watch over us. Because Tommy hadn't told us the half of it and I knew it. The love which ran deep for those girls. He probably never would express the true extent of the depth to which he cherished them, vulnerable as that would make him. But I knew it because I'd heard the stories and I saw the truth of them now in his eyes when he spoke of them. How the twins had been with their mother the morning she'd passed. How they'd been the last to see her living. How they'd been carried home by their Uncle Charlie, too young to understand what they'd seen. How the brothers would never say it, but always saw their mother in them. As if they were the last connection to her, as if they carried her weathered wild soul with them now. I knew that when Tommy told us we were to die for them if we had to, he was telling us he would die for them too. Knew that if he could he would in a heartbeat. I looked to my left, to Bonnie with his troubled water expression and his bottom lip trapped between his teeth as he gazed, taciturn, at the legs of Tommy's desk. I wondered how much of those stories he had heard over the years. Wondered whether he knew the weight he now carried on his back. "Now, Bonnie, I've decided you're to take care of Sonya and Isaiah you'll have Sylvia... I don't expect they'll be particularly charmed by this arrangement, but you're canny lads... I'm sure you'll manage.."

And for a moment I'd thought he was finished. He said goodnight to Bonnie, gave him one final piece of advice - told him the girls had forgotten their gypsy roots, told him it might do Sonya good to remember - and then he'd sent him on his way. Told him to rest up, he'd need it.

I'd expected him to say the same to me but he didn't. Instead he had kept me behind a little longer. "Forgive me for sparing the lad the gory details," he nodded to the door Bonnie had just left through, "but I didn't think it'd do any good to worry him... You however, you already know the twins..."

"Hardly Tommy, last time I saw em they were this tall..." I said with a smirk, trying to chuckle though it was hard to conjor amusement.

"So just as well as the rest of us then," he smirked along, "all the same Isaiah, there's rumours going round London about our girls and I don't yet know the truth of em, however the Fens have their mother in their blood so I wouldn't be surprised to learn there's some truth in them..."

"Can't be that bad surely, what trouble can you cause at ballet school eh?" I wasn't sure I should be joking but my uneasy grin was the best I could manage in that moment when I didn't know the severity of their situation.

"I'd hate to think we underestimate them."

"So, lay it on me then, I'll brace myself..."

"Rumours going round that my baby sister Sonya's been in bed with the enemy..." I couldn't hide the surprise from my eyes then, looking back at him with raised brows, trying not to wear my nervous smirk.

"Sonya?" I asked, "fuckin an Italian?" "Freddie Sabini to be exact..." Said Tommy, sucking his cheek in before pouring another drink. "Theres talk of Sylvia getting herself into trouble too, but those rumours are far more vague..." It was the way he shook his head that concerned me, the memory of the girl I'd once known that left a bad taste in my mouth.

The way I remembered them Sylvia had always been the softer girl, a little quieter, a little more pensive, wild like a Shelby with the woodlands in her soul for certain, but frail. Sonya had always been more starlet, more optimistic. There'd always been something melancholy about her sister.

"Our men in London tell me she looks sick, tell me she spends all hours of the night out in Solomons' territory. Course she's safe there, but I don't like the thought of it..."

"Naturally." I swallowed, tried to imagine what those men might mean when they said "sick." "What kind of sick Tommy?" I asked though I'd seen her on Instagram and I already knew the answer.

"Thin," he shrugged, "a real cliche of her genre I suppose."

"And she's spending her nights in Camden Town?" I had a feeling I knew what that meant too. "Could be drugs," said Tommy, "not that I think Alfie's stupid enough to sell to her... She was always a canny lass, sure she could exploit a weakness or two to get what she wants..."

"Think so?" I asked swallowing another gulp of whiskey, letting it warm and burn, trying to remain still and composed despite the thought of the girl I'd always had a soft spot for succumbing to the same darkness which took her mother all those years ago.

"I'd like to hope not but you know me..." "Aye," I nodded, "I know you Tommy." I said before standing up, placing my empty glass on the desk in front of him. "I'll look after Tommy, keep her safe... Didn't need to ask me, I'd have died for those girls in a heartbeat anyway."

"Aye," he nodded, "you're a good lad Isaiah."

She looked ever so tired then as she drifted down the hallway ahead of me. All day Sylvie had me treading eggshells, her volatile streak sharper than I'd expected. She was more wild now than I could ever remember her having been before. When she was much younger, though she still looked too young now. In fact just then as she slipped past Alfie carrying her ballet slippers strung from her feeble wrist, she looked painfully young. Too young to have pulled off any of the stunts she had.

Seeing her like that only sparked my loathing for the man who stood before me all the more. Seeing her appear suddenly paled and vulnerable. Suddenly frail where she hadn't been even just five minutes before.

When she was dancing she was ethereal, some unearthly creature, her beauty uncanny as she spun slowly on the spot, tiny body contorted in ways she didn't really look strong enough to hold. But she must have been, because she had held that dainty pose with such grace. Until he'd scared her and sent her tumbling to the floor, her caving in beautiful despite the fear which shot through me at seeing her waver and fall.

So when I fixed Alfie with that cold, unforgiving glare I meant the threat with which I spoke. Wanted him to know how much I hated him in that moment.

I'd have taken his eyes just for looking at her, the smirk on his lips as he watched her drift down the hallway enough to make me consider killing him there and then.

"You wanna look after her mate..." He said nodding to her flickering shadow as she disappeared round the corner, "looks exhausted if you ask me..."

I narrowed my eyes at him, shook my head with a bitter smirk.

"Fuck off." I said before turning away, following Sylvia back to our room with my hands I'm my pockets and my shirt slung over my shoulder.

I heard his chuckle echo down the hall, knew I was supposed to feel like it was following me. Knew it was supposed to haunt me, send a little shiver down my spine. But I wasn't scared of Alfie Solomons. Not when I knew we were playing the same game for the same side. Alfie wouldn't harm a hair on Sylvia's head, wouldn't harm me as long as I was there to protect her. He wasn't half as insane as he wanted people to believe, he wouldn't start a war he couldn't win. Not if he didn't need to. And not over a teenage ballerina.

When I opened the bedroom door I saw her already lying on the bed, eyes fluttered shut. She'd changed into a black t-shirt and a pair of woollen socks which had slid down her shins and bunched up around her ankles. She wasn't sleeping but when I closed the door behind me and crossed the room to sit in the chair by the door she didn't stir.

She looked peaceful but I knew it wasn't peace which held her so still now. She was tired. To the bone tired. Lying on her front, the t-shirt which covered her hardly covering her at all. She'd not bothered to pull the covers over her and I could see the goosebumps on her thighs.

I remained quiet, lent into the back of the chair to try and get comfortable. Rested my arms on the arms and tilted my head back against the wall. Closed my eyes for a moment but only as long as that. Opened them again when I changed my mind, decided I couldn't take my eyes off her just yet.

So I stole another glance at her soft silhouette, admired the way her edges seemed to fade into the sheets, the way the lamplight glowed on her skin.

And then she stirred, pushed herself up slowly, lethargically turning her head to look back at me from across the room.

"What?" I asked with a smirk when her sleepy eyes locked with mine, she looked so expectant, a little confused. For a moment I couldn't work out why.

"I thought you were tired?" She frowned.

"I'm fine," I shrugged though it was obviously a lie. I was exhausted. Not so much physically - though my muscles ached and my head was undeniably heavy - but emotionally, mentally. She'd put me through the fucking wringer over the last 24 hours and I felt absolutely wired. Head static electric buzzing in a way I knew meant that even if I did shut my eyes and try to sleep, I wouldn't get any rest.

I'd been hoping to burn some of that adrenaline off in the gym earlier but any pent up frustration I'd managed to unleash had quickly been worked up all over again by her. The sight of her teetering so delicately, the realisation of her fragility when Solomons had knocked her balance, fucking Solomons himself and his relentless little jabs. It was taking all my self control not to leather him, to let his comments wash over me, water off a ducks back. Not that I was letting them wash over me. I'd never been very good at letting things go, always a little too quick to rise to a fight, always holding grudges and resentments. And my resentment for Alfie was building by the second. I was holding myself together for Sylvie's sake. Doing as I knew Tommy would tell me - staying calm, rising above the old man's petty jabs - because if I didn't it would be Tommy I had to answer to when shit hit the fan.

If I lost my temper and Sylvia suffered for it, there'd be no forgiveness spared for me.

"I'm fine," I said again when she fixed me with a smirk. "I'm watching the door."

"Bullshit." She coughed, the tinkle of laughter in her voice catching me out.

"Doin my job sweetheart..." I said gritting my teeth, trying not to let her wind me up. It was difficult, she really had a way of winding me up.

"You're falling asleep." She said, her voice deadpan as she let herself fall back down against the pillow, her voice a little muffled by the sheets when she called out to me. "Come on Saiah, share the bed, don't be a pussy..."

Her tone was mischievous, and the sweet sleepy way she had looked at me from the pillow made it so hard to remain frustrated with her. Even when I could tell she was trying to push my buttons.

"Not gonna be much of a bodyguard if you don't get some sleep," she said then, her voice a soft sigh as she yawned and nestled into the bed a little more. I heard the shifting of cotton over cotton and when I opened my eyes and looked back at her I saw that she'd rolled over. That her t-shirt had ridden up and gathered at her hip. That she was looking straight at me with dusky glowing eyes, her dark curls slipped from behind her ear. Her cheek was resting on her hand and her body looked lazy and soft.

I wasn't exactly sure how much sleep I was going to get either way. Lying beside her or watching over her from the armchair in the corner of the room.

It wasn't her teasing however that made me give in to her. It was something else. Something fleeting, something I only really thought I saw. A flicker of doubt in her eyes. A flicker of trouble which reminded me of the Sylvia I knew when she was young, when she was little Fen Shelby running riot through small heath with her sister. When she'd been the twin who shied away, the twin who hesitated. The twin who often looked to me with worried brown eyes when her older brothers would lower their voices and suddenly start speaking in lower tones.

For a moment she looked scared.

Scared and young and so very very tired.

She looked like she needed me to give in, lie down beside her, yawn and drift off like drifting off was easy. So she could kid herself that drifting off was easy.

So I did just that. I stood with a sigh and i gave in.

I crossed the room quietly and kicked my shoes off, sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled my t-shirt off. And when I twisted to reach over her for the duvet I met her gaze again and saw that the Sylvia I knew had gone again. That all her doubt had disappeared, been replaced with that cold smirk, a different kind of trouble glowing in her eyes.

"Don't worry," she said, "I won't tell Tommy..."

And because we were suddenly in such close proximity, and because I was tired and my head was absolutely wired, those words were enough to throw me for a second. Enough to leave me frozen, looking down at her with a small frown on my brow. Enough to remind me how quietly surprised I'd been the morning she'd sat down in the garden, her cheeks angry and flushed. How even with the vitriol in her voice when she'd snapped at me, her prettiness had struck me. How I'd seen her then in a light I'd never seen her before. How I'd been reminded that whilst I'd grown up she had too. Wasn't just Tommy's little sister anymore. Was her own woman, somehow all the more defiant than she ever had been before. We'd always called her Trouble when she was a little girl, because both the twins had been just that. But now she was something more. Trouble in its most tantalising form, a trouble that was irresistible and infuriating in equal measure.

And she was lying there on her back, looking up at me with silent laughter in her eyes. Teasing me.

By the time my brain caught up with the rest of us she was already smirking at me. My silence more amusing to her than anything I could say.

"Why not love? He's already gonna kill me..." I said, propped up on my elbow, watching as she rolled her eyes and told me not to be so dramatic.

"I'm still alive aren't I?" She said nonchalantly, rolling over and nestling into the pillow, drifting off within seconds. Leaving me to fall down beside her, to try not to think about how close to her I was. To try not to dwell too much on our conversation. The murderous thoughts her brother almost definitely held me in for getting her this far.

Because as much as I believed by now that Sylvia would have torn away without me and probably could have gotten this far by herself, I couldn't deny that I'd helped. I'd killed a man for her, stolen a car for her, walked her right into Solomons office and stood by whilst he threatened us both. I'd already made a hundred decisions Tommy would have crucified me for. And whatever happened to us now, it was my fault. In Tommy's eyes his little sister's fate was entirely in my hands.

And as much as she put the fear of god in me with her unpredictable temper, that burning indignant streak, I knew she wasn't like us. Knew she hadn't been raised amid the violence, didn't really know the horrors the rest of us had seen. Because if she had she wouldn't have wanted to see Michael. If she had she wouldn't have left the safety of arrow house.

It was knowing that which made me certain I'd done the right thing in helping her. She'd have tried it without me and she'd have gotten far enough to kill herself. She might not have wanted it, or thought she needed it - or perhaps she did know and that was the root of her cruel streak - but she did need it. My protection that is. Or at least someone who knew her well enough to keep her safe from herself, the Shelby in her.

Looking down at her as she slept then, the sweetness which glowed all innocent on her somnolent expression, I was growing more convinced that perhaps now, after the last 24 hours, I was the only person who really knew her at all. And I didn't really feel like I knew her.

So despite the ache in my muscles and the exhaustion I felt permeating my whole body, my mind too, I couldn't sleep. Not properly.

Couldn't drift off and succumb to my exhaustion the way I realise now Sylvia had been hoping I would.

I couldn't tell how long I'd been lying there waiting for sleep to take me when she stirred. Only that the streets were still dark and the moon through the window still cast her in an ethereal glow. Only that I was still exhausted and the long wait for sleep had done little to calm my temper or my nerves. So when she tried to slip away from the bed instinct kicked in and before she could move I'd thrown an arm around her, dragged her beneath me and rolled on top of her, her hands pinned above her head. My nose brushing hers, eyes flaring unforgiving into her wide dear in the headlight eyes.

But her innocence was feigned and the second she tried to struggle against me and slip away, the second she realised there was no way in hell she could fight me off, her eyes narrowed and her venom took over.

"Get the fuck off me peaky boy..." She snarled, her wicked little smirk and the mischievous light in her eye sparking my temper.

"Are you fucking insane?" I whispered, struggling to swallow down my anger. My heart was racing, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I knew exactly what she had thought she was going to do and the hatred she had sparked in me then, the resentment made it difficult for me to control myself. "Sneaking off to see Michael? That where you think you're going? Are you fucking stupid?"

"I wouldn't have to sneak if you weren't so up my brothers arse!" She shot back, narrowing her eyes, trying to get under my skin. But I wasn't going to let her take shots at me when in trying to sneak out she'd proven just how naive she really was.

"You might have a bloody death wish Sylvia but I don't want your fuckin blood on my hands." I could feel myself shaking, my fingers wrapped round her wrists too tightly, the weight of my body on top of hers too much. But I was angry, and the girl needed scaring. That much was obvious when she rolled her eyes at me again.

"Solomons is hardly gonna kill me is he." She said, her voice drawling and bored. As if I was over reacting.

"Far worse our enemies would do to you if they got their hands on you sweetheart!" I said fixing her with an unforgiving stare. Her eyes locked with mine. An understanding flickering in them for a second before she tried to glaze over again. Tried to pretend my words hadn't reminded her of something she didn't want to remember.

"You can't stop me seeing him," she said, her whisper still so determined, there was something there though now, something which almost sounded like a real emotion, only served to piss me off more, "I'm not a fuckin child, a few cuts and bruises don't scare me..."

I had to bite back a laugh then. It was spiteful, mirrored the venom she was spitting at me. Might even have wounded her if she'd cared anything for me.

"They left your cousin for dead sweetheart, maybe you should fuckin see him eh, maybe you'd rekindle a bit of respect for the sanctity of life!"

She didn't try to hold her laughter back. Her giggle melodic but cutting. She didn't need to say anything to leave me swallowing down the urge to say something cruel, but she did.

"Have you heard yourself?" She sneered.

"You wouldn't even recognise him Sylvia, it was a thousand times worse than anything you've seen at ballet class."

"Don't patronise me Isaiah."

"Don't be so fuckin stupid then." I hissed back, forcing her back down into the mattress when she struggled again. Her leg squirming under mine because she was trying to kick me. "And if you ain't stupid you're fuckin selfish..."

She held my gaze, unflinching. Her glare cold. Perhaps more unforgiving than my own.

Beneath me she felt so small. I had to force the image of her trembling frame down, has to force myself to forget her dainty form as she had spun slowly, teetering on one leg, ethereal and delicate in the middle of the gym. Had to force myself to forget how sweet she'd been as a younger girl, how sweet I was determined to believe she still was. If I let myself believe she was anything but a liability, a threat which needed to be neutralised somehow, I'd let her do something stupid and we'd both wind up dead.

With my chest pressed to hers I could feel her heart racing against mine. Could feel the tremble of her body, something she didn't want me to feel. I knew I was getting to her even if it didn't look like it. Even if she had that dead behind the eyes kind of Shelby cool to her.

"If the Changrettas get a hold of you, anyone gets hold of you sweetheart, they won't fuckin kill you, won't be worth very much when you're dead... Know what they will do though? They'll chop you up piece by fuckin piece to get to your brothers, you'll break Pols fuckin heart, and Esme and Ada. How many fingers and toes do you think you can lose before you start missing em eh Syl?" I asked gripping her wrist a little tighter than before, raising it to make a point, forcing her to look at her forearm, "think you'll still be dancing swan lake when some Sabini cunts taken a fuckin cleaver to your elbow?" She didn't say a word, just kept glaring back at me, determined not to let me scare her, but I was determined to do just that, determined to try and drive the point home. "Ain't a single fuckin Shelby wouldn't lay their life down for you so you might think about being a bit more fuckin careful with yours eh?"

She held my gaze but she didn't say a word and when she stopped struggling, stopped smirking, stopped speaking back, we simply stayed there, caught in a frozen moment. An unforgiving moment in which the two of shook subtly, me with rage and her with a spiteful determination.

"Trust me sweetheart death is not the worst thing...."

Her lips were pressed together and pouting, my body hovering above her held her sullen features in shadow. I could feel her breath on my skin and knew she could feel my breathing too. My nose skimmed hers as I thought about trying to explain myself again but in the end I didn't.

When she didn't say a word more I gave up. Rolled off her but kept a hold of her wrist. She didn't try to move though. Just lay there completely still. Eyes open, starring up at the ceiling. Her silence leaving me to wonder what she was thinking. Because the look on her face was glazed and cold, dead behind the eyes.

"Go back to fuckin sleep." I grumbled, my sigh accompanied by my hand to my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose as I despaired. Already the guilt was prickling away at me, already the shame of having used that quiet kind of violence to stifle her, was sitting heavy in the pit of my stomach. But there wasn't a single thing I'd said to her that wasn't true. I might have been cruel to detail, but I hadn't lied or exaggerated. I'd simply told her the truth her brothers wouldn't. A truth she needed to understand if she was going to cut around pretending she already knew it all.

I lay on my back for awhile just listening. Stewing. Trying not to let her piss me off anymore than she already had. Trying not to let the guilt tug away at my heart strings. Trying to remind myself why I'd behaved as I had. So violently, so unforgiving.

Tried to remind myself it probably didn't matter. She hadn't given up because she was scared, she'd given up because she knew it wasn't reasonable or worth it to keep fighting me. She'd realised that in that moment trapped beneath me she couldn't win. That was all.

If I let go of her wrist she'd probably try again.

If I fell asleep before the sun began to rise she'd probably try again.

But in the end I did fall asleep. To the sound of her faint breathing and the city outside, London's halfhearted dawn chorus. Birds chattering and cooing, cars starting up, traffic sounds. The first footfalls along the pavement. Somewhere amid the rest of the worlds waking up I drifted off and when I awoke once more it was to an otherwise empty bed. A sinking feeling in my stomach. Not quite able to feel let down because I'd known all along that she'd leave me.

I let my hand rest in the space she'd occupied only hours before, flexed my fingers and groaned as I dragged my palm down my face and squeezed my eyes shut.

"Fuck." I hissed through gritted teeth.

I couldn't have slept for very long, an hour or two at best. I had that sluggish kind of sting in my eyes and my throat, that clinging lethargy. The rest had only served to highlight the extent of my exhaustion.

"For fuck sake..." I groaned as I pushed myself up and out of the bed. My heart had already started racing again, I wasn't going to panic about the situation but I was certainly feeling uneasy. Certainly already racing through the options in my head. Which way she'd have gone, how she'd have left. How she might have tried to get to the hospital.

She wasn't stupid enough to walk it, but then if she'd had no other choice. I could only pray she hadn't been naive enough to hail a cab in this end of town.

But as my feet hit the bedroom floor and I let out another sigh of despair I heard something which stopped me in my tracks. That fae like laugh, it drifted to me from the corner of the room.

And when I opened my eyes properly I felt a rush of shame at the way my heart lifted - not just with relief but with something else too.

Because she hadn't left. She hadn't really gone anywhere at all.

"What's the matter Saiah, bad dreams?" She smirked at me from where she was sitting curled up in the arm chair. Her legs dangling over the arm, one ankle crossed over the other, her feet and toes taut and pointed.

She held my gaze, her eyes bright and smug. She could see the panic Id been trying to swallow down and she would be more than happy to use it against me if I let her.

I didn't say a word, just fixed her with the same cold glare I had in the middle of the night. My lips pressed together, hands gripping the edge of the bed to steady myself. Because I wanted to snap at her again. Wanted to say something cruel, take all of my frustration out on her. Because even after everything Id told her last night, she still had the look of a little girl playing games. In fact now there was something spiteful in her eyes and I had a feeling I'd poked the bear. Had a feeling I'd made things a little harder for myself once again.

"Surprised to see you here." I said nodding to the window, "didn't fancy pulling a cat woman then?"

"You told me not to remember?" She said, forcing a pout, managing to hold her wounded look for two seconds before the sorry glow in her eyes was replaced once again by that dull antagonising smirk.

"Give over sweetheart." I said standing up properly, pulling my shirt on and walking to the window to look out over the rooftops and down into the courtyard where there was a young lad sitting on a bench with a cigarette. He looked up when my shadow caught his eye, confirming my suspicions. "Solomons is having us watched..."

"Obviously." She said.

She looked pissed off and when the penny dropped I couldn't help but chuckle.

"That why you're still here?" I asked, unable to help myself poke at her wounded pride, "didn't fancy trying to sneak out after all?" I grinned looking between her and the view from the window. It was just one lad and his dog and I couldn't imagine that would be enough to perturb her after everything she'd already dragged me through.

"Told you why I'm still here dickhead," she sighed slipping from the chair to the rug, crossing the floor to stand just in front of me, arms folded over her chest as she looked up at me sullenly. Her lips a downward curve. Something uncannily sweet about her now that she was stood so close to me. "If I'd wanted to go I'd be gone." She said so plainly that I knew once again it was true.

I thought about meeting her with the same fleeting honesty, a moment of genuine understanding. Thought about apologising for the way id pinned her down in the middle of the night, whispered all those evil images to her to try and frighten her into place. But then I remembered just how quickly she had turned on me before, just how quickly that glazed look in her eyes could take over. How swift the feeling was to drain from her. So I just sneered and pinched her cheek, something I'd regret much later.

"Oh Sylvie," I smirked, not needing to say anything else to upset her or rile her up. Only having to wink and turn away from her to leave her standing there with a quiet angry flush about her. Could feel her glare burning into the back of my skull.

Perhaps if I'd have realised what was waiting for us downstairs I'd have done more to keep her close to me. Perhaps if I'd been a better man I'd have realised that for the briefest of moments I'd seen the old Sylvia trying to drag herself back from the hollow place her mind had locked her away. Perhaps if I'd have reached out to her then, understood that we were on each others team, I'd have been able to keep her close enough to save her.

But I wasn't the better man. I was foolish, with a wounded ego, too easily scorned by her. So when we went downstairs and met Alfie in the kitchen, his feet kicked up on the table, lips wearing a smug little smirk, I didn't put up enough of a fight.

"Morning Alfie." I started already trying to hold onto my patience, already trying to anticipate the shower of shite he was about to start talking.

He didn't say it back, didn't even really look at me.

He was lounging on the sofa which stood in the bay of the window, the morning sunlight washing over him, catching the ginger flecks in his hair. He didn't look much like the suited gangsters I was used to, but then Alfie often didn't. In his white tshirt and a pair of black jeans, Cyril lazing on the sofa with his head in Alfie's lap. He didn't look dangerous and when I turned to glance at Sylvia I felt a disquiet stir inside me, because there was something a little too trusting in her eyes when she looked at him. If not trusting, something worse - wanting.

"I've been ruminating," he began, his fingers combing through Cyrils fur, giving him a gentle scratch as he spoke, "you know what that means lad?" He raised his brow at me. I didn't say anything because I didn't have anything nice to say. "Nah, well, never mind never mind, it's a big word ain't it, Ollie!" He called out suddenly, "Ollie my boy get in here would you!"

I turned slightly to look over my shoulder at the kitchen doorway, catching Sylvia's eyes as I turned. But when she met my gaze she looked straight through me.

A moment later Ollie came running in, a panicked look in his eyes behind his glasses. Even when he corrected himself and stood up straight, there was a nervousness about him as he anticipated Alfie's temper.

"There you are Ollie my boy, clever lad is our Ollie, any word you fancy, anything that stumps you yeah, can always rely on our Ollie to sort you out and see you right, yeah..." Said Alfie, "Ain't that right my boy?"

"Uh yes Alfie," he said adjusting the glasses on his nose. There was a look of nervous understanding in his eyes and I wondered how familiar he was with this routine. Had my question confirmed when he took a little dictionary from his trackie bottoms pocket and opened it. When I glanced back at Sylvia she was smirking, a wry little smile, the same bored look in her eyes.

"Now then, Peaky Boy, just you tell our Ollie what it was I said that confused you yeah, he'll be more than happy to help you out won't you Ollie lad?"

I fixed Alfie with a glare, gritted my teeth. Breathed in through my nose slowly. I didn't answer him, just held his gaze. A quiet challenge I knew I was going to have to lose.

"Well go on peaky boy, this is all for your benefit see, cause in a minute yeah, in a minute I'm gonna carry on discussing my here ruminations on a particular close-to-your-heart-matter and I wouldn't want you to get left behind right, cause that wouldn't be very hospitable of me would it?"

When still I didn't say anything Alfie chuckled. Ollie appeared to be growing more uneasy by the second. When I glanced at Sylvie, who stood a little in front of me, she didn't even really look like she was listening. She looked distant. Like she'd already turned and left the room, occupied her mind with other matters.

"Go on lad don't be shy, what word would you like our boy Ollie to look up for you... He's very fast ain't you Ollie, our literary prodigal son is our Ollie, can do it with his eyes closed standing upsidedown on one leg can't you boy..."

"Uh, yes Alfie..."

I remained as cool as I could, remembering the speech Tommy had given me when he'd asked me to look after his little sister. She was vulnerable even if she didn't believe it herself. And his men in London hadn't been lying. She did look sick, not so much sick as frail. Thin was the word I'd have used too. Stretched too thin, like she was trying to be too much, too many things all at once. Unsustainable was the word I'd use to describe whatever death wish trip she was on. And whether or not Alfie was pissing me off, humiliating me, trying his best to immaculate and demoralise me, I had to put Sylvia first. Couldn't start anything that might put her at risk.

But when I opened my mouth to bow down and give in the word left someone else's lips.

"Ruminating, quick as you can Ollie please," said Sylvia, "since this conversations clearly fuckin scripted..." She added with a little smirk, leaving me with gritted teeth trying not to show my frustration. Trying not to let Alfie see how nervous her erratic behaviour was really making me.

"Mind your manners little Shelby ain't your brother told you about minding your manners... Said it before and I'll say it again, need a fuckin father figure you, it's just fuckin sad at this point... Yeah yeah, alright, what have you got for us then Ollie my boy, Ruminating, R U M I N A T I N G, ruminating..."

The young lad stuttered a little, adjusted his glasses as he held the book up to his face and squinted at the tiny writing on the page. His accent was a lot more sophisticated than Alfie's, in fact he sounded similar to Sylvia and that put a smirk on my face, because he didn't exactly sound like he should have been running with Solomons.

"Uh, To Ruminate, verb... gerund or present participle: ruminating..."

"See, he's a clever boy is our Ollie, I paid to put him through school didn't I, fuckin generous old bastard me, and ain't it paid off..." Alfie spoke over the lad, lowering his voice, addressing the room as opposed to me or Sylvie. "Shame your big brother ain't so generous eh, think what you coulda been peaky boy... All that wasted potential..."

I remained stoic, turned my attention back to the poor lad reciting the dictionary behind us.

"To ruminate is to think deeply about something for example, "we sat ruminating on the nature of existence...." Carried on Ollie, his voice a little shaken in places as his eyes flickered between the three of us and the pages of his book.

"There we go see," began Alfie, giving Ollie a little applause, insisting he took a bow, "and this morning I woke up bright an early yeah, crack of dawn, and I sat outside yeah, cause that's what I like to do in the morning you know, nice cup of herbal tea, lemon and ginger, beautiful aromatics, fuckin lovely stuff is lemon and ginger herbal tea right..." he said gesturing a kiss with his hands as he leant back into the sofa cushions. "So, I like to sit on my bench outside in the courtyard and me an Cyril yeah, we like to listen to the birds for awhile don't we boy..." He said scruffing up the hounds coat as Cyril nestled into his lap. "Cause it's good for the soul that, birdsong, very healing, very grounding... Tell everyone that don't I, birdsong, it's good for the fuckin soul Peaky Boy."

"And so that's what I did this morning right, I thought to myself, here Alf, don't those little birds outside sound lively this morning, all their little chirpin an tweetin, fuckin beautiful right, and I took myself outside and I sat back under the shade of my old hawthorn tree, and I ruminated yeah, I sat ruminating on the nature of our here predicament..."

"And what predicament might that be Alfie?" I asked dryly.

"Oh you know," he said, one arm stretched along the back of the sofa, lazy gesture as he pushed his hair back, "the little gypsy wants to see her cousin don't she Peaky Boy, and she's a stubborn little miss ain't she... Doesn't seem to care that visiting the silly bastard could get you both killed does she... Don't seem to realise what a fuckin 'orrible ugly mess those Italiano cunts made of the poor sod..."

"Doesn't sound like much of a predicament to me Alfie..." I said coldly, trying to reason with him quietly, realising my mistake a moment too late. This was Alfie Solomons. You didn't reason with him, you only showed him your weakness, told him what you didn't want him to know.

"Well you see the thing is peaky boy, I'm doing my best to be hospitable here, ain't all that often a notoriously miserable old man such as myself finds himself with guests is it, better make the most of it hadn't I?" He offered me a little sneer, a taunting light in his eyes I'd have shot clean off his face if I could have, if I hadn't had to think of Sylvie first. "And well it occurred to me whilst I was ruminating yeah, that keeping the little princess all locked up here, well that ain't all that hospitable... Is it?"

"You're going to take me to see Michael?" Asked Sylvia. The hope in her voice almost broke my heart. Certainly struck fear into my heart.

"Yeah," he said, "yeah why not eh, a little Alfie/Sylvie bonding time yeah... You'll have to stay here mind lad," he said to me, finger pointed towards my chest, "I need some kind of guarantee don't I, you'll have to play collateral I'm afraid, case any of your lot get the wrong end of the stick and start throwing accusations around."

"Fuckin no chance..." I grinned in disbelief, shaking my head and turning to Sylvia, but Sylvia wasnt looking at me. She was looking at Alfie, her eyes glowing with hope.

"Oh come on lad you know how it is, can't just go galavanting around town with Shelby royalty when there's a war on, and not keep some kind of bargaining chip safe at home... You know how it is lad? She don't seem too enamoured with you right now either... Coupla hours apart might do you good yeah? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, ain't that what they say..."

"I said no, fuckin no..."

"I'm going." Said Sylvie without looking at me. Leaving me to freeze, speechless and full of dread.

"There we go see, look at that eh Peaky Boy, you see her face, how's an old softie like me sposed to say no to that delightful little smile?" He asked me, his eyes challenging me quietly to fight him, to try and deny Sylvie something he'd already promised her. The hope he'd dangled in front of her.

I was the enemy now. As simple as that.

"You said it yourself Alfie, she could get herself killed..." I started, knowing that nothing I said now would change Sylvia's mind. Feeling a devastating kind of desperation rip through me when I looked back at her and saw the decision had already been made.

"I'm sure Alfie can handle a couple Italians..." She said fixing me with a cruel determination. Daggers in her eyes. And I wondered then which of my actions had been the final nail in this coffin. Had it been the way I'd spoken to her this morning, so unforgiving, spiteful tone, or had it been last night when I'd pushed her down into the mattress, kept her trapped beneath me as I tried to strike the fear of god into her. When had I made myself the enemy? When had she decided to put her trust in him and not me?

"Oh aye, course I can, couple of Changretta's, a sprinkling of Sabinis, piece of piss, piece of pumpkin bloody pie, don't you worry peaky boy, I'll keep her safe..."

I swallowed a lump in my throat, fist clenched at my side.

"I'm not letting you go alone Sylvia!"

"You fuckin are mate those are the parameters as laid out by me, master of this here fuckin house... You either wait at home like a good little pup whilst me and the little miss head out on the town, or she don't fuckin go... Now I don't know about you but if it were up to me, I'd pick my fuckin battles yeah..."

"Sylvia..." I groaned.

"I'm going to see my cousin Isaiah..."

"For fuck sake girl! I'm not about to let you go an get yourself killed!"

"Oi, Peaky boy!" Alfie suddenly bellowed, his voice silencing the both of us, ringing out around the kitchen, startling Ollie so that he dropped his dictionary and began scrambling for it on the floor. "You don't fuckin swear at girls like that who do you think you are?" Snapped Alfie, squaring up to me, his finger jabbing into my chest as I stared coldly back at him. Met his eyes with a silent challenge. "Raising your voice at young girls like that, fuckin disgusting..."

I looked straight through him and then turned on him, crossed the room to Sylvia. For a moment I was furious, gripped with rage. Rage at the humiliation she was forcing me to endure, rage at her indignance, her selfishness. The anger sparked in me every time Alfie opened his useless mouth.

And then all at once I wasn't.

In the second I snatched at her arm and saw it - the bruise I'd left on her arm the night before, the shape of my unforgiving grip in a bracelet around her wrist - I lost just enough fight to give up.

I picked up her hand and turned her palm over in my mine. I felt the guilt twist inside me when I looked down at the mark I'd left. Felt like a hypocrite as I tried to plead with her once again.

"Sylvia I gave your brother my word... I ain't about to break it by letting you go running off round London with a f... psychopath..."

I looked down at her, met her cold eyes again. They were full of shadows. She was out of reach again and I could feel the hopelessness returning to me. The heavy feeling in my heart. Because she was determined and unfeeling and it hurt to see her so removed. Not quite a ghost but almost. Not quite a girl either. Knowing I'd pushed her into this corner. Knowing that if I'd been a little more gentle things might have been different.

"Now to be fair mate, to be fair right, she was already doing that wasn't she... Running round London with a murderous bastard... There ain't no denying that's what she was doing is there?"

I ignored Alfie. Sylvie just smirked. Held my gaze and smirked. I wondered if she could feel a thing. Had to lie to myself and believe it was all just an act. Believe I hadn't seen this look in her brothers eyes just before he gave the order to kill.

"Gave your brother my word..." I said again, losing all hope in the silence that followed. Losing all hope in the moment I saw her lips move around the words.

"Fuck my brother."

"Now now darlin there's no need for that eh, the boys only followin orders ain't he, like he said he just wants what's best don't you Peaky Boy... No need to swear eh, no need at all..." Said Alfie stepping up behind her, his hands on her shoulders, smoothing down her arms as he met my gaze with a smug glint in his eyes. "Now don't you worry Peaky Boy, she'll be perfectly safe with good old Alfie right, I'll look after her I promise... In fact you know what, you know what... You have my word."

And I knew there was no fighting them then. Knew that Sylvia had cut herself off from me, that she was out of reach now. Unfeeling and determined. I knew then that I'd lost her, that if anything happened to her now it was my fault. That I hadn't done enough for her and yet couldn't do anymore.

"Alright little darlin," said Alfie with a much sweeter smile when he looked down at her, his hand rubbed her back in a smooth circle and I felt my hatred for him twist deep in my stomach. "You run along and get your things, here I'll even let you pick the car eh, how about that?"

Taglist (sorry if you're on here and don't want to be I lost my taglist for trouble and I'm away and working from mobile so just had to copy the old one for everything)

@inalovesrabbits-blog

@zablife

@itsghostgirlyo

@marwwfairy

@toddlerbodybag

@everysage

@tommyshelbyswhore

@kxnnxy

@starrykitn

call-sign-shark

Only-malala

galactic3a

darkcastle167

feyresqueen

[fablesfolklore]

First Blood

This work is inspired by the spooky season. The OC of Lilith Rose Shelby is my own. The character of Scarlet Shelby belongs to @zablife. I hope you're not offended that I included her. She inspired me with her Shelby energy and in addition you inspired me to write something of my own an post it. So @zablife this is for you, Lee. Hope you like it.

TW: Violence. Domestic Abuse. Lilith is a child for most of this story.

It was true of The Shelby clan that they produced more demons than angels. At least, that was the myth gossiped by the priest and the locals down watery lane. At the age of six Lilith hadn’t really understood why that might have been a bad thing, she just marvelled how that seemed to link them closer to God than most other families. Besides there was only one real demon in that family. Lilith was four when she’d learned not to trust her father. Five when she learned to fear him. And it was only a matter of time before she learned to despise him. Arthur Shelby Sr. was a dreadful human being, a despicable father, and an utter bastard. She’d learned she’d receive no love from him only on her last birthday when he’d announced she’d disappointed him by not being a boy.  Naturally, she impaled a fork into his hand and when he’d raised his fist to beat her, Polly had held a knife to his throat. The look on the old weasel’s face had been the best birthday gift her aunt could have got her. Of all the children he had spawned, Arthur seemed to hate his youngest daughter the most. Lilith had been trained by Polly and her mother, as all the other Shelby siblings had been, to avoid their father when he was at home. She’d never known why her mother loved him so much.

Lilith adored her mother. Anna Shelby was the beauty of small health. She was a gypsy princess of Irish and Russian descent. She was a songbird with a sensitive heart…and the gift. Some whispered she’d been granted it by the devil, who had taken her for his mistress, in recent years. Polly had scoffed when she’d heard Ada repeat what she’d heard….and yet, Polly wouldn’t meet Lilith’s curious gaze. Anna had met and settled down with Arthur Shelby Sr. when her family had settled close to Birmingham. From what Lilith had gathered, her parents' romance had been idyllic, a fairy tale. And so here she was, two years later at the age of eight, sitting in the kitchen listening to her father shout at her mother and she found herself wandering where it had all gone wrong for the two of them. Polly had gone to the shop and she’d taken Finn. Everyone else had been out of the house when Arthur Sr. had returned to the house from wherever the fuck he'd been. Lilith was the first one back from school, she’d snook in when she’d heard her father swearing and slurring his words in the sitting room. She stared at his jacket in front of her, draped over another chair. Her nose wrinkled as the stench of alcohol assaulted her. Lilith frowned, gritting her teeth when she heard her mother, normally calm and softly spoken, raise her voice. The door was closed, so she couldn’t hear her clearly. Not that it mattered. Arthur’s voice rose above her in volume seconds later and then she heard Anna begin to cry. The sound pulled on Lilith’s heartstrings and tugged at her tear ducts. She slid off the chair and approached the sitting room.

If daddy wants to shout at someone, he can shout at me.

But as she grasped the handle and turned it slightly, she hesitated. He didn’t know she was there, neither of them did. She could sneak out and fetch Tommy. Her eyes lit up at the prospect of her favorite big brother breaking her father’s wrist…or face. Either would be fine. Yes, that would do, he could pick on someone his own size. Someone who wasn’t frightened of him. Lilith turned and ran to fetch Tommy. She got as far as the back door when she heard it. The sound of her mother falling. She froze, shivering all over. Lilith wasn’t sure what she’d heard until she returned to the sitting room door, her feet having taken her there involuntarily. She stood at the crack in the door, peeping through at her mother. Anna was on the floor, clutching her head from where she’d bashed it on the chair leg. Arthur stood over her, laughing silently at her with his cruel mean eyes.

    “Arthur, please. Please, Arthur. I’m sorry I shouted, I won’t do it again. Please, Arthur. No. No. Stop, No! Please!”

     Anna’s quiet pleading, her soft, heartbroken begging dissolved into sobs and cries of pain as Arthur descended upon her with his fists. Anna did her best to fend him off, but he was so much stronger than her. Lilith watched mouth agape in horror and eyes streaming with tears as her mother submitted herself to the torture and curled up as best as she could to protect herself.

How long had this been happening? All of her life?

Lilith had never questioned it when her father had tried to hurt her. As far as she was aware it was customary for all fathers to beat their children when they’d disobeyed or angered them. She’d never thought for a second that he’d hurt her mother though. Not when Anna doted on him. The only person in the world capable of loving him…and he treated her like that.

Anna released a loud wail as Arthur pulled her hair back and smacked her hard on the mouth. Lilith, unable to stand her mother’s sobs any longer nor the sound of Arthur’s flesh impacting violently against Anna’s delicate figure, sprinted to the kitchen, desperate to do something, anything to help her mother. Climbing up on Tommy’s chair, she pulled open one of the draws and picked it up. The kitchen knife was heavy in her hand, weighing her delicate little arm down. But she held it firm, hopping back down off the counter and landing silently…not that her father would have heard her over his own shouts. Lilith watched him, hulking over her mother like some kind of monstrous animal, drunk and cruel as ever he could be.

“Mad bitch.” He called Anna. She didn’t deserve that.

Mummy, how can you love him?

Something cold and angry in Lilith snapped and hissed angrily inside her. It was vicious and crimson and she swallowed the venom it offered her with determination. Lilith didn’t love him. That was something she was certain of as she stepped into the sitting room, approaching him from behind, quiet as she could be so he didn’t hear her. The blade glinted in the sunlight as she sprang at him from behind. Arthur Sr. Yelped out in agony as the sharp blade sank into his thigh. It heightened to a scream as Lilith ripped it out and plunged it back into his knee. She delighted in the noise he made, pleased that he was the one making it instead of Anna. The last thing Lilith registered before the bloodlust descended and the noise fell away was the sound of metal slicing through bone.

“GET!” His knee buckled as she pulled the blade out once again. Lilith continued her assault mercilessly as she tore at him with the knife. “OFF!” His calf, his thigh again, his other leg, his foot, his forearm, his shoulder. “MY!” Nothing else mattered except the look of utter horror on his ugly twisted features. “MUMMY!” He tried to grab at her once but she was fast and small, easily blocking his arms. “YOU!” The sharp end of the knife went through his palm and his breath hitched, eyes widening when she yanked it back out. “MONSTER!” She hoped it was as painful as it looked.  She was so numb, so far gone that she didn’t hear the door open. She didn’t see them all rushing in. She didn’t see Polly gasp, her hands cupping her mouth, eyes wide. the shopping in her hands crashing loudly to the floor. She didn’t see Finn, flinching back behind Polly’s skirts eyes scrunched closed. She didn’t hear John swear or Scarlet drop her nursing books. She didn’t feel the vibration of them clunking to the floor. She didn’t see Ada rush to her mother and wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. She didn’t hear Arthur yelling for her to stop. She didn’t see Tommy look between the three of them, putting two and two together. What a sight she must have been for them. An eight-year-old girl splattered from head to toe in her father’s blood.

In the end, it was Anna’s voice that cut through the bloodlust.

   “Lily! Lily, darling stop! Please! Stop! You’ll kill him.” Anna cried, pushing herself up off the floor.

    “WHAT DOES IT MATTER?” Lilith embedded the knife into his other knee with a sickening crunch. “HE HURT YOU!” Arthur Sr. squealed like a pig. Ripping it out once more she raised her blade again when a strong hand gripped her wrist until her grip loosened and the blade fell, clattering to the floor. She was lifted with ease away from her father and spun until she was face to face with Tommy as he shielded her view of him. She’d been so lost in the moment that she hadn’t heard them come in. All of them. Polly picked the knife up off the floor and wiped it with her skirt. Lilith looked Tommy in the eyes. Those big ocean-blue eyes were wide with utter terror as he checked her over.

   “Are you hurt, Lily petal?” He asked urgently. The numbness melted away. The damn broke and emotion flooded in.

   “I’m not sorry Tommy! I’m not sorry!” She wailed. “He was hitting mummy! He deserved it!” Her voice cracked and her breath stuttered as she burrowed her head into his neck. Tommy embraced her without a second thought, rocking her back and forth in as calming a manner as he could think.

Lilith’s accusations rang out into the shell-shocked room. Polly was the first to take action.

    “Get up!” She snapped at her brother. His angry little eyes glowered back at her in spite of the pain rocketing through him. Polly sighed, irritated. “Scarlet, Arthur, help your father onto the settee. Ada grab a sheet to cover it with. Scarlet, I want you to help me sew him up. John, go and bribe Doctor Clarkson to come and help. Anna,” She paused, looking at her good sister. She softened instantly seeing the bruises already forming on her melancholic face. “Are you badly hurt?” Anna parted her lips, ready to speak when Lilith wriggled and vaulted out of Tommy’s hold, running to her mother.

     “I’m sorry, mummy! I’m sorry! Please don’t be angry with me.” Lilith wailed. Anna’s eyes welled with tears. She pulled her youngest daughter into her arms and embraced her tightly.

    “I’m not angry.” Her voice wobbled. “I’ll never be angry with you. Only sad. You protected me. You shouldn’t have had to do that, petal.” Ada returned, covering the settee with a spare old bedsheet.  Arthur Sr. wheezed as Arthur and a rather reluctant Scarlet helped him up (with minimal care on her part) and to the settee. He opened his mouth and Scarlet punched one of his injuries hard. It bloomed red and he hissed in pain.

      “You say a word and I’ll make sure you’re hurting more than you are already!” She snapped.

      “Don’t be harsh, Scar, he’s our dad. Where’s that bedside manner you were telling us about?” Arthur Jr. asked, trying to ease the tension.

       “He doesn’t fucking deserve it, Arthur.” She shot him a sharp look. Before looking at Tommy. “You’ll have to help Arthur take Dad’s trousers off.” Her older brother scowled at the prospect but stalked over nonetheless. The door flung open once again as John returned, very much out of breath. He nearly doubled over with exhaustion. Behind him waddled in, Doctor Clarkson, flushed and barely upright himself. The old doctor had just righted himself when his eyes widened and his mouth fell open as he looked at his patient.

    “Can you fix ‘im?” Polly asked, eyes sharp on the old man. Doctor Clarkson’s resemblance to a deer in headlights heightened as his eyes darted around the room. The empathy seeped back into them when he caught sight of Anna and Lilith, bruised and bloody. He straightened and stepped forward.

    “Let me look at him.”

    “It would be preferable if he didn’t have to go to a hospital.” Tommy spoke calmly. “People will talk.” Doctor Clarkson approached Arthur Sr. and carefully examined his injuries. The look of concern on his elderly face deepened. 

     “You’re lucky. They’re not too deep, for the most part, easy enough to handle.” The doctor removed his jacket and rolled up his sleeves.

      “Scarlet and I can help.” Polly suggested. The doctor nodded.

      “That would be sufficient.” He opened his physician’s bag, pulling out what he needed. “What worries me are these.” He pointed at Arthur’s knees, hand and ankle. “The knife has penetrated bone.” He paused, lowering his voice for only Polly to hear. “I take it the child was defending her mother?” Polly nodded. “She did a thorough job.” He smiled at her. “He’ll need a hospital.”

       “No!” Tommy’s deep voice cut through the conversation. “He’s got a big mouth, he’ll talk.”

       “And what will he say, Mr. Shelby? That his eight-year-old daughter did this to him?”

       “He has a point.” John spoke up. “No one would believe him.”

       “Not only does it sound far-fetched.” Ada sat down and locked eyes with her father. She maintained the stare. “Think of the humiliation.”

       “He doesn’t have to say it was Lily. He could say it was any of us.”

       “No Tom!” Arthur looked pleadingly at his brother, “It’s dad, he wouldn’t rat on any of us.” Tommy shook his head at Arthur’s naivety. He was still just a young boy at heart, wanting to please his father.

       “Arthur, why don’t you help Ada make some tea?” Polly suggested. Arthur opened his mouth ready to argue when Ada took his hand.

       “Come on.” She pulled him through to the kitchen. When Tommy was sure he was out of ear shot, he stood over his father, looking down on him with disdain.

        “He can go to a hospital.” He spoke to Doctor Clarkson. “But it can’t be in small heath.”

        “I can send him to a colleague of mine in London.”

         “I have one condition.”

         “Name it.”

         “It’s not for you, it’s for him. And before I let him out of this house, he’ll have to agree to it.”

         “What is it, boy?” His father spat.

         “You’ll be gone in the morning. You’ll leave small heath, and you’ll never ever come back.”

         “Tommy-” Anna’s voice was sad.

         “No, mum.” Tommy stood firm, “He’s made us miserable for long enough. If he knows what’s good for him he’ll leave.”

          “He can be someone else’s problem.” Polly said. Arthur Sr. looked disgruntled as he thought it through. Lilith didn’t know what possessed her to look at him, or to approach, but she suddenly found herself stood in front of him.

         “You hate us all, daddy. So just say yes.” Her dark onyx eyes stared into him and he shifted uncomfortably, and yet unable to look away. He nodded to Tommy.

         “I’ll do it. I’ll leave. I swear, I won’t come back.” At his words, Anna began to softly cry again, looking at the floor in shame. Lilith maintained eye contact with her father. A battle of wills being fought between them. No way in hell would she be bullied by him. She smirked, recalling how he squealed when she’d butchered him.

          “I’m not sorry.” She whispered. “Don’t ever come back.”

*****

He was gone. It was done. Lilith had watched from the top of the stairs as they’d taken him to the canal boat Uncle Charlie had prepared. He’d not asked questions when Tommy had spoken quietly with him. He’d simply looked at Anna and agreed to whatever Tommy had told him. Anna had been inconsolable for the better part of the evening. Arthur Sr. never once looked at his wife as he was carted off to the canal boat that would take him to the infirmary in London. Even as she called his name tenderly.

      “Have you nothing to say?!” Polly snapped at him, arm wrapped around Anna’s shoulders. The horrible excuse for a husband merely gritted his teeth and stared hard ahead. Ignoring Anna like it was all her fault. Ada had stripped Lilith bare and bathed her, tenderly cleansing the blood on her hands and face. John took her dress and the bed sheet and built a fire in the backyard for them.

     “I’m not sorry.” Lilith kept saying quietly as she rocked back and forth in the warm water. “I’m not sorry.” She looked up at Polly when she came and joined them, alone. “Where’s mummy?”

      “She’s gone to bed, darling.”

      “I’ve made her sad, haven’t I?” Tears welled in Lilith’s eyes. “I don’t want mummy to go away again. Not like she did before. I want her to be happy. I want her to stay.” Polly hushed her, kissing her forehead soothingly as she took the soap and began to wash Lilith’s thick dark hair.

      “Nonsense. You could never make your mother sad.” She stopped and leaned into whisper. “You and Tommy are her favourites.” She winked and Lilith managed a wobbly smile. “Loving my idiot brother made her sad.”

       “Why does she love him?” Lilith asked curiously. Her forehead crinkled as she concentrated on the thought. Lilith couldn’t understand what her father had about him that made her mother care about him.”

        “It’s a mystery to us all.” Polly scoffed as she rinsed the suds out of Lilith’s hair, the soft pads of her fingers massaging the little girl’s scalp. Lilith’s eyes fluttered as her body grew relaxed and sleepy. “But,” Polly began again, sounding sadder than before, “Your father wasn’t always like this. Once upon a time he was charming, handsome and good natured.” She sighed. “Life changed him.”

        “I hope life doesn’t change me like that.”

        “It won’t. I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”

*****

Cobalt eyes watch her through the crack in the door. Her small hands are clutching Polly’s cards as she places them on the table, humming happily as she does so.

     “Come on in Tommy and close the door.” She calls behind her. “It’s cold.” Tommy enters without hesitation, her innocent voice like a spell over him. There was something uncanny about how she seemed to know when Thomas was close to her. Like they were linked by an invisible string. Light and Dark. Two sides of the same coin.

     “What are you doing with those ey?” He asked, as he pulled out the chair beside her and sat, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

     “Polly said I could read if he would ever come back,”  Lilith spoke matter of factly. Tommy went cold.

Yes, Polly. Good idea to let my eight-year-old sister delve into gypsy magic without supervision.

     “He won’t, Lily. Daddy’s gone, alright. I promise, he’s not coming back.” The firmness in her voice caught her off guard and she looked up at him. Onyx met cobalt and his certainty, his confidence was shaken.

     “He will.” She spoke quietly. “But don’t worry, I’ll be older and less helpless. Besides, I’ve taken a precaution.” Something in the way she spoke made him nervous. Worry chiselled away at him. He cleared his throat.

     “What precaution?”

Lilith smiled as she looked at Tommy. She pointed at the tarot deck.

     “There’s you.” She pointed at The Chariot card. “There’s me.” She pointed at The Empress. “And there’s daddy in the middle.” She pointed to the card nestled between the other two. The Emperor. “With his head cut off.”

      Tommy paled and shuddered at the way she spoke it dreamily. Polly’s small pocket knife (which she’d no doubt stolen from her aunt) was still lodged in the wood of the table where she had sliced the top half of The Emperor’s card. He knelt down beside Lilith at the table, taking her small hands in his, making her look at him.

      “I know he frightened you and hurt mummy. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there to protect you. But I promise you, he’ll never be allowed to hurt any of us ever again.”

      “I know.” She smiled.

*****

Anna threw herself into the canal a week later. Lilith had been inconsolable as she'd watched Uncle Charlie pull her mother's corpse from the water, cursing her father for his part in Anna’s misery. She hid herself away, refusing to talk about her mother and festering in her rage. Tommy should have known then what she’d be capable of. Instead, he’d had to wait fifteen years to hear about it. He’d dressed it up all nice for Arthur. Invented an imaginary woman, two scoundrels, and a gun. He’d had Mary the maid forge the letter and told the rest of his siblings that their father had died on the other side of the world. The truth was too terrible. No one needed to know that Alfie had witnessed her standing over their father like an angel of vengeance whilst he begged for mercy and told her she looked like her mother. No one needed to know that he’d been found down a dark alley in Camden, head viciously severed from his body.

       And there’s Daddy, with his head cut off.

Tommy drained the whiskey from his tumbler and shuddered. Yes, it was true. The Shelby clan did indeed produce more demons than angels. And Lilith Rose Shelby, though Thomas loved her with all of his heart, was the most dangerous kind of demon…. she was an angel who didn’t know she’d fallen yet.