#peaky blinders x sister!reader
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zkvry · 1 year ago
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Are You Laughing at My Brother? | Shelby Brothers x Sister!Reader
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Summary : Y/N is just a year younger than John Shelby, though her immense instinct to protect her older brothers against their enemies reveals that the Shelby name is not to be trifled with.
Warnings : cussing, misogyny, death threats, guns, descriptions of violence, racism
Additional Information : > takes place in early season 1 ; Billy Kimber era (minor spoilers) > written in third person perspective (she/her) > 847 words | 6 minutes
Author's Note : decided to use some gifs along the way, might be distracting for your reading - I apologise. My first work on here, please let me know how you find it! Enjoy <3
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"Are you laughing, at my brother?" She speaks, appearing from behind the bar. For the first time since they've dared to enter the Garrison, Billy Kimber and his two men flinched slightly at her sternness. This only lasted a split second. Still, it didn't go unnoticed.
Billy Kimber flashes a cocksure smirk, pleased at the presence of something less dreadful than matter at hand. "And what do we have here,"
John lets out a humourless laugh. "I'd be careful with that one. She's feisty," He warns Billy Kimber with an all-knowing look.
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Billy Kimber rakes his eyes over her physique. "This is no place for a whore - even a pretty one at that," He tuts mockingly, shaking his head.
Arthur inhales deeply as he fights the very last nerve to not cut the cheeky bastard across the face - to not slice his eyes for looking at his dearest little sister. The word 'whore' bounces around in his head. Arthur's lips twitch, knuckles turning white as he grips onto the arm rest for restraint.
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He was waiting for a signal - a sound or nod of approval from Tommy or Her. Hell, he thinks, even John could command it and he would bloody do it. No questions asked.
Nonetheless, She makes her presence known. Almost like clockwork - one of the Shelby brothers stand and holds out his chair. In this moment, it was John. He extends his hand and escorts her to his previously occupied seat with care. Recklessly, he drags a chair for himself from a nearby table beside them, and plops down.
Billy Kimber clears his throat wearily but still as arrogant as before. "Right, he's the oldest, you're the thickest. I'm told the boss is called tommy so it can't be this woman you lot here seem to worship. Then I'm guessing that's you, cause you're looking at me up and down like I'm a fucking tart, " He spits out.
Thomas finally unclenches his jaw, the throbbing pain creeping onto him. He puts on a calm façade. Unmoving, he looks to Her direction.
Only when he saw She hadn't intervene, he spoke. "I want to know what you want. And which one am I talking to, which one of you is the boss?" Thomas breathes out as he takes a puff from a cigarette. His finger darting around from Billy Kimber to the two men that accompanied him.
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Billy Kimber shoots up from his seat, knocking it to the ground. "I'm the fucking boss, alright!? Enough parley, you fixed the race without my permission. You fucking Gypsy scum. I run the races. You fixed one of 'em, so I'm going to have you shot against the post!" He declares - finger pointing threateningly to Thomas.
"Pick it up," She leans forward onto the table, hands intertwined infront of her.
Billy Kimber looks at her flabbergasted, "What?" He furrows his eyebrows, offended.
She stands slowly, the men around her straightening their backs in alert at her movement. She stares at him, unfriendly.
"I said," She continues, leaning forward once more, arms stretched out on the sides of the table, dominating the space at the table. "Pick. my chair. up," She repeats.
Billy Kimber remains stunned, seemingly not knowing what to do. The audacity of such a woman to demand him to pick up a chair? He was shocked to say the least, and outrageously insulted.
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Ready to argue and humiliate her, Billy Kimber opens his mouth but She was quicker.
"You swayed your arse in here like you own the place. Guns out like you're flaunting fuck knows what," She speaks fluently, rage settling in. "We fixed your race, you put a bullet in my ceiling. That's fair, but then you had to run that fucking mouthpiece of yours didn't ya eh?"
"Want to put a bullet in my brother's head, is that it?" Like a predator, She stalks closer to him.
As She approaches, one of Billy Kimber's men crouched down and picked up the fallen chair. Just as the chair was upright, She gathered her strength and slammed Kimber's shoulders down onto the seat and held him still.
"Why don't we put one in yours?" She whispers into his ear, patting harshly on his right shoulder.
In an instant, Kimber's two men draw their guns.
The Shelby brothers lurch forward, in efforts to protect their sister infront of them, moving to draw their own guns as well.
However, the men who were supposedly loyal to Billy Kimber pointed their guns at the man himself. A sinister smile creeps onto Her face.
"Let's do proper business, shall we Mister Kimber? Starting off with your races, " She declares, moving to lower the guns that have been drawn by her brothers and the two men working for Her.
She turns abruptly to face Kimber. "Though, they wouldn't be your races any longer after we're done here, would they? " Her face suggestive of diplomacy, but voice laced with threat.
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dreamerschroniclesofstories · 8 months ago
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I love your work I got a request for Tommy Shelby
So you are tommy daughter or the youngest Shelby sister and u are 2 years old
And Arthur or John or Finn is looking after u and u get sick and tommy’s not home at the moment so she just cries until he gets home no matter how hard the others try to console her and then when he gets home and he holds you stop crying and fell asleep hope that make sense
Hey love! Of course i can do this request for you!
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR TRANSLATION OR POSTING ON A DIFFERENT SITE.
Summary: request above.
{Y/N}: Your name.
Word count: 1,023.
Once Finn was born, the Shelby clan felt like the family was complete, they hoped their parents would stop having children since they were barely looked after by them.
However, just under two years after Finn Shelby was born, [Y/N] Shelby entered the world. The second daughter of Arthur Shelby and youngest sister to the Shelby brothers.
Since she was born, she had a handful of health issues, ranging from constant illnesses to developmental delays. This caused her to look younger then she is and resulted in Polly becoming very cautious of going outside with the young girl. When [Y/N} was taken outside, Tommy and Polly would make sure she had on at least three layers.
However, the winter had been brutal on the young girls body, it had snowed for the first time in ten years in Birmingham, and like any other child {Y/N} wanted to go outside and play with the the playful swirling snowflakes coming down from the sky. Polly knew it wasn't safe but the young girl was growing and seeing snow in Birmingham was a rare occasion. She let {Y/N] go outside for ten minutes.
Two days later, Polly had regretted that decision. Polly had woken up that morning expecting the young girl to be awake in her bed waiting for her aunt to take her downstairs to make her breakfast. Instead Polly had found her niece still asleep curled up in her bed, from where Polly was standing she was able to see {Y/N]'s skin glistening with sweat.
The middle aged woman immediately walks away from the child's room, going to Tommy's room and knocks on loudly, knowing her nephew would be awake, Polly opens the door " get dressed and go to the doctor down the road" she demands.
Tommy stood up quickly, puling on a pair of his tailored trousers then followed by putting on a shirt " {Y/N] again?" he asks, he knew it was for his sister but asked anyway.
" i don't know whats wrong with her yet" Polly uttered, her voice full of stress and panic.
Polly rushes back over to her nieces room, walking over to the young girls bed, wrapping her arms around the fragile body of her ill riddled body of the youngest Shelby.
{Y/N} small mouse like voice breaks out from her throat "pol" she whispers, her voice cracking, squirming slightly. The young girl was uncomfortable, the warmth from her fever coming through in bursts, her night clothes soaked in her own sweat.
The sound of Tommy leaving his room followed by the sound of the front door opening and close less then a minute later reassured Polly that help would soon be on the way.
Three hours later.
It had been hours since Tommy had left the house, he had not come back. {Y/N]'s fever had gotten worse as the hours past, Polly had given her several cold water baths to try and bring her fever down but nothing was helping.
The sickly young girl had become distressed, her wailing voice filed the small Shelby home. Her brothers and aunt doing everything they could think of to comfort her.
" Don't hold her like that Finn, that will just make her more upset" the eldest Shelby brother barked at his youngest brother.
Finn was holding his sister under armpits and arms length away from him. " shes contagious"
Arthur grumbles and stands up from the dinning room table, stalking towards his siblings, taking his sister gently from the arms of his brother. " You're a Shelby Finn, you've got other things you should be more scared of" Arthur points out.
The eldest Shelby, holds his sister, his hand on the bottom of her back whilst his other arm sat under her legs to support her weight, The young girl lays her head on her brothers shoulder hiccuping as she cries.
" where is bloody Tommy" Arthur grumbles, looking towards Polly as she walks out of the kitchen holding a cloth. The older woman walks over to Arthur, gently wiping the cold cloth against the forehead of the sickly looking child.
" He's coming Arthur, doctor is probably busy with other children sick from this weather"
" Other children aren't {Y/N} pol, she could di--" Polly quickly interrupts Arthur.
" don't be ridiculous Arthur" Polly hissed.
However, Arthur wasn't wrong and Polly knew this, her niece was already weak from birth and the doctor had warned the family that {Y/N} could die from becoming ill, its just the matter of what will kill her and when.
Luckily, the sound of the front door opening and shutting filled the chaotic family home of the Shelby's. Footsteps clunking towards the room filled with hiccups, coughs and wailing.
The sight of Tommy Shelby was a relief for Polly but when she didn't see the doctor her stress levels turned up a notch. Tommy takes his cap off followed by his jacket.
Tommy walks over to his older brother, Arthur transferring his sister over to him " the doctor will come in a few hours, he is full today with other patients" Tommy explains.
Polly runs her slender fingers over her eyebrows, sighing " her fever isn't breaking Tommy, shes making herself worse by crying" his aunt vents.
The sight of the most feared Shelby rocking his youngest sister as she holds one of his fingers wasn't a rare sight for the family, since {Y/N} was born it was clear her and Tommy had bonded incredibly quick and nothing could break that bond.
The house slowly began to become quiet, the occasional hiccup and cough appeared, Tommy sits on the couch, his sister slowly closing her eyes, her body relaxing for the first time since the morning.
Polly laughs and shakes her head, putting her hands on her hips. " i should have known" she smiles.
Finn frowns and looks towards Polly " known what?" he asks, oblivious.
Polly grabs a cigarette from her metal case and uses a match to light it, then sits down at the dinning room table for the first time since waking up.
" All she wanted was her Thomas".
A/N: Hello again, i apologise for the long wait for this, life has been hectic and i had no time to post anything but i finally have time to post on here! i appreciate all the Reposts, Likes and Comments.
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theundercoversquid · 1 year ago
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Little Lamb PT2
Pairing:  Luca Changretta x Reader
Summary: Maybe Luca wasnt the butcher, maybe he was the savour
Warnings: I saw the request from @birdyman-momon at 11:54 p.m., and by 12:33, it had been written and formatted! So I hope it is good and that you enjoy it! For some strange reason, the inspiration hit, and I couldn't not write it! (I am publishing this before I have the opportunity to talk myself out of it!)
Part 1: Little Lamb
Masterlist
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If someone had told you three years ago on your wedding day what your future held for you, you would have scoffed at them. There was no way that being married off to Luca Changretta would be a good thing for you. No, you would have laughed and said that your family had signed you off to a life of mystery. You would have told them that your family had thrown you to the wolves. That you were a Lamb sent to slaughter.
But no, you would be wrong. Getting married to Luca Changretta would be one of the best things that had ever happened to you. On your wedding night, Luca never even touched you. The closest he ever got was to drape his jacket around your shoulders.
He never forced you to do anything that you were comfortable with. He let you lead at your own pace. Doing things how you wanted to do them.
The day after your wedding, he took you on a date. Showering you with gifts and his attention.
As if he could sense your apprehension, he did nothing to make you uncomfortable. You could tell that he wanted to return home to New York, but he did not pressure you to do so.
So when, 6 months after being married, you told him that you wanted to go home to New York with him, his face practically split in half from the grin.
His accent was thick as he told you about all the things that he wanted to do with you and all the places that he wanted to show you. You could feel his excitement catching on, and soon, you could feel yourself smiling along with him.
And well, going to New York would be something that you would never regret. The moment the ship left the harbour, you felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulder. You were no longer a Shelby. You were a Changretta, and you knew that Luca would never make you do anything you didn't want to do. He would never do to you what your family had done to you.
So when he carried you over the threshold of your new home, you gave yourself up to him in the most primal way. Bearing your body and soul for him. You let him see all the ugly bits and all the beautiful bits, and never once did he flinch.
Life only got better from there. You settled into life in New York. Surrounded by people who loved and appreciated you. The air and the atmosphere suited you far better than the coal-infested air of Birmingham. A place you vowed never to return to as you cut off all contact with your family. While they had given you Luca, they had thrown you to the wolves, knowing that you could be ripped apart.
Life only continued up from there, with you and Luca renewing your vows on the third anniversary of your wedding. So you could both properly celebrate your union, surrounded by happiness and the people that you loved.
Right then, on that day surrounded by a family that loved you, you would have told anybody willing to listen that it was the best day of your life, that there was no way it could get better.
Whilst you may have been right. You were also wrong. As life had much more happened in store for you. Surrounded by your husband and his family. But most importantly. Surround with the love of your husband.
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Tag list: @birdyman-momon @miojodetomatin @siriuslyblackonback
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veeisdunn · 2 years ago
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can you write something to do with exam stress, loneliness and suicidal thoughts (if you're comfortable with it) finals season is coming and it would comfort me a lot. could it be a tommy x sister reader? Maybe the reader is stressed about her exams and is being bullied in school. I really enjoyed your first two fics (the sh ones) and I would really appreciate this. Lots of love xxx
Bargain
Tommy Shelby x sister!reader
I'm sorry that this took so long! It is kind of ironic as I'm also going through this right now with my A-Level exams. I understand how dark things tend to be getting in these times and you sound like you've got a lot on your plate. I really hope you enjoy this, I made it especially for you! ♡
warning: suicidal thoughts and actions
WC: 3.6K
MASTERLIST
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
One day, though you couldn't remember when, the jokes stopped being funny. Your classmates were relentless - to them you were gypsy scum, the spawn of a criminal family. You used to laugh along but the taunting wore you down. 
It didn't help that you began to shut your family out as well. Ever since you passed the entrance exam at that God forsaken grammar school, you withdrew. Too much reading and research to tally up the betting books and mediate domestic disputes.
As you moved onto your final years of education, you saw a way out of your family's situation - if you got into university then you wouldn't need to join the family company or marry a rich man to escape. You could have your own career which didn't break the law.
Of course, in the 1920s, this was no easy feat for a woman - or anyone. Luckily for you, you were attending one of the best grammar schools in the country, but, though you weren't in poverty, you were at a disadvantage with your peers. Most of your classmates had options: they had a dad with a PhD, a legal family business or an arranged marriage with a wealthy man lined up in case they failed their studies.
The pressure seemed never ending. You needed this, there simply was no other option. You had to grapple with this reality as well as deal with the tormenting of your classmates and the fear that one of your family members would end up with a bullet in their heads. 
You didn't speak to anyone in your family about your crippling concerns. You didn't think they'd see the value in a university education - especially for a woman. 
School work distracted you to such a point where you didn't even notice Tommy's concerned presence shadowing you most days. He just kept popping up everywhere you went. 
School gate? Tommy.
Library? Tommy.
The kitchen at 3am? Tommy.
Did that man even fucking sleep? 
Eventually, you "confronted" him. You had a tradition of being in Charlie's Yard on a Friday night. You would sit and look into the water - laughing, crying, sometimes screaming in frustration. This was a solitary activity, but one particular Friday, Tommy was already waiting there for you.
"(Y/N)!, you're late!" He shouted across the yard, taking a puff of his cigarette with a cheeky grin.
Fuck’s sake.
You hurry your pace, slushing your boots in the mud making your way to the wooden dock. “What are you doing?” you call out, frustrated.
“Is a man not able to sit, eh?” Tommy shuffled over and gestured for you to sit. You just huffed in response and remained standing.
“Look, Y/N/N, I can leave if you want, but I just wanted to see you? You’re always buried in a book these days.” His tone turned more sympathetic. You relented and sunk down next to him.
“I can’t be long. I have an essay, Tommy.” You spoke timidly, you were mentally prepared to break down alone but now you had to hold yourself together.
“You have the weekend.” He turned to look at you but you turned away.
“No. I have more work for the weekend.” You choked and turned your body so you were facing away from his stare, “I have a lot of work to do. I’m bloody drowning in it Tommy.”
He took a deep, prolonged breath and discarded his cigarette. “I think, Y/N, I think you need to spend a lot less time on work. Aren’t your friends all out on a Friday night? Why don’t you join them?”
You scoffed. “Friends? No one wants to be friends with a gypsy, or a Shelby.”
This struck a nerve with Tommy, he was also both of those things, yet he was respected and you were isolated. “Yeah? Say’s fucking who?” 
“People at school.” “And why are you listening to them?” “Because - it’s just hard. You wouldn’t get it. I’m so fucking worn down.”
The man took another sigh, realising he was fighting an uphill battle. “Your classmates aren’t in Small Heath, you don’t need to prove yourself to anyone here, you know that?”
You shook your head rapidly “No. No Tom, I don’t care about my social life. If I don’t do well in my exams, I’ll never get into University. I need to go, I want it so bloody bad.” You were so engrossed in your emotions that you didn’t even feel the salty tears run down your cheeks.
Tommy was taken aback by your reaction. He couldn’t fathom why you were putting so much pressure on yourself. Of course, he would rather you made your goal something a bit easier than perfect grades, but then whatever you dream was became his by proxy. He had spoken to your teachers, they were certain you’d get the grades you needed. They had even mentioned your tendency to overdo things, but things weren’t nearly as bad at home at that time so he disregarded it. What a stupid mistake that was.
He was about to reach out to touch your hand, but you could feel the floodgates bursting, so you tried to leave. 
“Y/N!” He shouted, following close behind you.
Go away. Go away. Go away.
“Look, I didn’t fucking ask you to come here.” You snapped as he grabbed your arm.
“You didn’t need to. Your my fucking sister, you don’t need to ask. I didn’t want to be so blunt but you need to calm the fuck down with the books, ay?" 
"No. You don't understand." You shook your head adamantly , "if I don't do well in my exams, then what's the fucking point in anything anymore?" 
"So, how'd your chat with Y/N go?” Polly asked her nephew as the evening dawned.
He settled into the sofa and took a deep inhale, rubbing his cold, sweaty palms together. “She didn’t take it very well. She probably just came back here to study more upstairs.
Polly leaned forward in her seat: “she never came home.”
Shit.
“Did you upset her, Thomas?”
“I couldn’t tell you. She’s hard to get these days.”
Tommy thought little of her absence. The library closed at 6PM - she’d be home by 7.
7:30. Still no Y/N. 
He went to check your room to see if you’d slipped in and snuck to bed. Your room looked like it had been ransacked. Books, pencils, papers, and clothes covered every surface. Your bed was unmade and the curtains were drawn. It reminded the man of a house that had been robbed. The air was stagnant and cold.
On your bed, a book stood out to Tommy. It wasn’t a textbook or workbook, it was a small leather-bound diary with fraying ribbons pulling it shut. Without much thought, he settled down onto the bed and yanked the curtain open, amber sunset pouring in. The book felt heavy and the spine was stressed. He noticed that lots of other papers had been shoved between the pages.The edges of some were visible, your handwriting adorning them. He pulled the end of the matted ribbon firmly undoing the knot and allowing him access to what he came to realise was your diary. He flicked to the latest entry and saw it was dated for just the day before. He skimmed your scrawls: I will never be good enough, I just can't do it. I can't do anything anymore.
After freezing for a second he slammed it shut and threw it against the wall. He was fuming with the situation, and with himself. He knew you were struggling but he thought it was your need to prove yourself to your bullying peers - he could have never dreamed that you hated yourself this much.
Without much more thought, Tommy grabbed his coat and practically launched himself out of the door. He wasn't going to come home until he had you with him.
After your altercation with Tommy, you found yourself back by the cut. Your emotions were always heightened there, you tried not to go to the part where your mother jumped in, that was usually reserved for the anniversary of her death, but for some reason your feet carried you down there. You never knew her and by the sounds of things, you were very different people. You didn't even know why she did what she did, you were too young back then to understand. One thing you did know was how she must have felt. The feeling of utter despair. The loneliness. 
You'd had a serious case of suicidal ideation since the start of your new school. In the back of your mind you always knew what to do if everything became too much. You had written letters to everyone and stuffed them under your pillow. You were ready. Perhaps tonight was the night?
This revelation almost gave you a twisted sense of euphoria. I don't need to go home again. I never have to write another essay. I never need to be called another name. No one will need to look after me. I can just end it all. 
These thoughts carried you to the edge of the water. You thought about how your mother would have felt drowning and freezing. Calm, hopefully. Release. 
You collected some large stones from the dusty mud around you and stuffed them in your coat pockets. You figured that being pulled down would make you go quicker. You knew that your brothers would be sad but you also knew that they'd move on. They'd done it once before, they could do it again. After all, they all had lives and you had nothing but stress and pain and anguish. 
Looking down into the gloomy water you could feel cool droplets splashing onto your face and mixing with your tears. The abyss was inviting, your doubtful thoughts that had stopped you in the past were whispering to you but you told yourself that you wanted this. You wanted this, right?
You took your shoes off and laid them neatly at the edge of the water. 
A leap. A splash. A scream.
Cold.
Then you felt someone grab you.
Tommy had barely made it in time. He saw you, shoeless, on the edge of the cut. He could only shout and run after you as you descended into the water. Without hesitation, he jumped in after you and grabbed you. He tried to pull your body up to the surface with him but you were fighting him. Your coat was sinking first, weighing the both of you down, so he wrestled it off you. All either of you could hear was splashes and all you could feel was the paralysing blanket of cold.
Holding onto your wrists, he went up for air to gather strength, before diving back under to pull you up. You were barely underwater for a few minutes but the frigid water had knocked you out. Tommy paddled to the steps a few metres away from where you'd jumped and pulled his drenched body onto them. He wheezed and gasped for air then dragged you up the steps by your armpits. The water level was particularly low so the steps seemed to go on forever. He'd boarded boats from these steps but never did he think he'd be ascending them with your limp body.
Your breathing was shaky and erratic. Tommy was just glad you were breathing at all. He laid you down in the dirt and rolled you onto your side just in time for you to involuntary convulse and cough up water while he hyperventilated. He firmly patted your back as your lungs cleared. Despite the heaving, you were still unconscious. Your lips were going a dusky shade of blue and the skin around your eyes was darkening, either from the cold or the lack of oxygen, he wasn't sure. 
Tommy desperately tried to get control of his breathing so he could compose himself but his body was viscerally reacting to the shock of the cold water overwhelming his senses. He was in such physical anguish that his emotions had completely dulled. He'd honed the ability to turn his thoughts off while in the trenches and it often came in handy. 
His main priority was getting you warm and dry. He tried to drag you up but didn't have the strength in his cold and wet state. Instead he had to resort to shouting for help, knowing that there were Blinders at the entrance to the docks. A few of Tommy's associates came around the corner, their coats flying in the wind behind them and the group of them managed to carry you back to Watery Lane while your body continued to involuntary spasm due to the cold. 
Nobody else was in the house so Tommy flung your body on the floor in front of the fireplace and set a copious pile of logs on fire. He hunched over you and basked in the heat, ripping off his coat, hat, and suit and discarding them into a pile. After sitting for a moment shivering in a vest and underwear, he ran to the kitchen and grabbed a towel.
In the living room, you'd rolled over so you could be closer to the heat, you weren't entirely sure what was going on but you liked the feeling of the warmth against you.
He ripped your drenched shirt off you and tried to ring your hair out with the towel. You were mumbling something incoherent but he ignored it. Your body laid next to the fire as he dried himself off. 
You awoke when he accidentally knocked a book off the coffee table. Your body felt numb and you were extremely confused. He rushed over as you tried to roll away from the fire.
"Tommy?" you croaked, even more confused than you already were. What was he doing here? The look on his face then reminded you. He was drenched. You'd actually done it. You'd actually done it and he stopped you.
You ignored his demanding stare and sat up, coughing. You wheezed, holding your hands around your neck to reassure yourself that you weren't drowning. 
You didn't drown, but you were soaked to the bone. 
"What were you thinking, eh?" Tommy studied your startled expression, you couldn’t tell if he was mad, disappointed, or feeling sorry for you, "What the hell is going on with you?" 
You remained silent and refused to look up at him. 
"Y/N, what did you just do? And don't tell me that you fell. Your coat was full of stones." 
He was going to make you say it. Dick.
You could only think of two words: “I’m sorry.”
Tommy scoffed and sat down in front of you. “You’re sorry? You are sorry?”
Did he want to know why? “I’m sorry that you jumped in and got wet. You look cold.”
He was physically taken aback by your words. “The only thing you should be sorry for is not talking to me.” He picked up the towel and began to dry you, understanding that trying to reason with you in this state was no better than arguing with a brick wall. After your hair was no longer dripping, he brought you dry clothes and made you discard your wet ones in the bathroom while he pressed his ear up against the wall to listen to your every move.
Tommy was angry with himself. He’d sat back and watched the pressure on you accumulate, only realising when it was too late. You’d nearly died. Y/N. His baby sister. The girl he held as a baby. The girl he read bedtime stories to. The girl he taught to ride horses. The girl he loved unconditionally. It was fate that had just saved your life - he very easily could have looked for you somewhere else and that would have cost your life. The thought made his heart hurt. You’d nearly died. You’d nearly died. Before he’d even realised, he was crying against the doorframe as you left the bathroom. 
You tried to apologise again but he ignored you and wrapped you in the tightest hug you’d ever felt. He was scared to loosen his grip as he feared you would slip away. He cried gut-wrenching sobs into your shoulder. You gave in and began to cry as well. You couldn’t even figure out why. You were plagued with a viscous mixture of anguish and guilt - you were also still really fucking cold, the pair of your shivered in eachother’s arms. 
Tommy pulled away and stared directly into your eyes. Instinctively your gaze turned to break the exchange. You couldn’t stand his distraught stare, it made you want to vomit.
“Y/N” He took a deep breath, “I’m here now and I’m not leaving you ever again, so you better tell me what the fuck is going on inside that head, eh?” You gulped. Only one coherent thought was running through your head. “Cold.”
With those words, the pair of you were huddled next to the fire.
“I’m gonna fail, Tommy.” The admission slipped out.
He held back his rant he’d repeated to you countless times and let you continue. All he wanted to do was scream and shout, to tell you and the rest of the bloody street how talented and capable you are.
“I want to make something for myself just like you have but I can’t do it. I just feel like I can’t do anything right. If I’m a good person then why do people hate me?” You took shaky breaths to process the thoughts you’d aired. Tommy pulled you in so you were resting on his side while the fire crackled in front of you. He waited to say anything until he could be sure that you were finished.
“Look, Y/N. Some people in this world are just full of hate, they wouldn’t know kindness if it hit them between the eyes. You just want to make everyone happy but you can’t because some people are gonna fucking resist until they die. I’m so proud of you, Y/N, you have grown up to be a talented and smart woman. You will make a life for yourself as long as you remember that. If you want to do that through school then, by all means, go for it, but there are other ways. What you need is some time to rest, and you need to get away from that fucking school. You’re in your final year, just finish things off at home, I’ll get you a tutor or anything you need as long as you never go back.”
He leaned back against the sofa to physically recover from his speech. He couldn’t see your face but he watched as you curled your body into a tight ball and leaned in even closer to you.
“It’s like I don’t even know who I am anymore. Everything is so dull. I’m not happy.” No shit. And then you began to cry for what felt like the millionth time.
He just held you and stared into the flames. “Shh shh, no, it’s alright. you’re fine, shh. No more anything for the rest of the weekend, Dr Shelby’s orders, alright?” You chuckled lightly while he remained serious,  “Over my many, many years, I’ve realised that if you work on something forever it never gets done well, but if you take enough breaks and are kind to yourself, it will get done. I can bet everything that you will become a strong and independent woman one day.”
After a few more back and forths, you spilling your negative thoughts and him retorting with a classic Tommy speech, the two of you fell asleep by the fire, the heat thawing the pain you’d both felt. Tommy came to the conclusion that you were simply too good for this world, but he knew you better than anyone and was certain it would all work out for you in the end.
The next morning, the pair of you made a deal that you would tell him about all the bad thoughts you were having and he promised he’d always be there to listen. After a few meetings with a doctor and your school, Tommy set you up a study area in his office. The two of you would work during the morning, eat lunch together, then you’d shadow him in the afternoon to - as he put it - “learn from the master”. 
You took time to reflect on the things that really mattered to you - not the things that really mattered to the girl who was hated by her peers and would have died for flawless grades - the things that mattered to you, Y/N Shelby. You cared deeply about those around you. Seeing how broken Tommy was after your attempt made you want to cooperate with him and your doctor to become well enough to live the life you so desperately craved. It was almost ironic that you’d nearly taken that opportunity from yourself.
You still had days when the light at the end of the tunnel faded and you’d again lose sight of your future, but keeping up with his side of the deal, Tommy was always there to coax you out of it. 
When you were younger, your brother taught you lots of things, and now he felt like he was giving you a final, important lesson. To learn to use your life, because he could so clearly see the potential you have.
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
please drop me a comment or message with any feedback or suggestions! I'd love to hear from you ♡
Vee x
MASTERLIST
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fruityfucker · 10 months ago
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This was the kind of life you always dreamed of, even as a little girl you imagined a husband who worshipped you like you’d hung the moon and the stars, and it had always been Luca.
Shame your brother had to go and ruin it.
This life, made with love; coming soon
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Hey guys, there is a criminal lack of Luca Changretta material on this site, big sad. This is going to be my first piece writing with the intention of posting, so if anyone would like to beta and rip it to shreds before it sees the light of day please message me 🤍
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forevercillianmurphy · 1 year ago
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im sorry, tommy shelby.
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- warnings: death, swearing, violence.
- word count: 3.7k
- my own timeline since I haven’t watched past season 2 lol
- Tommy x oc sister !
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rebecca was born on a cloudy day some December 1902, twelve years after the head of the family; thomas shelby was born. ever since that day (and finn's birth) he promised not only himself but his family that he'd take care of them. they were the most important thing in his life, and after the war that never changed. though, it grew harder with the night terrors and feeling as if the two had a bounty on their heads every time they stepped out into good ole birmingham. though, the family never once made it seem that way. the two younglings thought nothing much of it really, thinking that that was how everybody else lived. always having people following them around for protection especially if arthur, john or tommy could not be there. so when rebecca turned 20 in 1922, she did not understand why she couldn't come 'out' to society, like everybody else her age. she did not realize how dangerous it was. because again, her and finn had lived in a bubble; something that polly made sure of.
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the very night she returned home from school that spring, rebecca was fuming, teeth seething and hair falling out of her braided bun, "why on earth can i not take part in the event tom! how else am i supposed to be seen as an adult and not a child?" she demanded, hands on her hips. tommy had watched his youngest sister scream and shout, pull at her hair for the better part of the hour. once she had realized her name wasn't on the list of the debutant ball, she quickly came home to give a piece of her mind to the head of the family. he said nothing, just watching. she stopped her frantic movements, turned back towards tom and shrugged. she was simply giving up, something that she never did. because she was a shelby, fighting till the very last second. tom saw the defeatedness wash over her like a waterfall, and then saw the tears forming in her eyes. oh how he hated to see her or finn cry, especially at the expense of him. she shook her head, knowing he was about to stand up or say something, and she put her hand up. "you don't want me out there, fine. but just know that i will resent you for the rest of my life as i go leave for university this upcoming fall." she paused beginning to walk out. she took one last look at him, "and just know that i wont come back to this shitty hell hole." and with that she left. tom sat there for a few minutes finishing his whisky and freshly lit cigarette. he sighed, looking up at the ceiling knowing that polly was going to be giving him an earful right about - now.
"thomas michael shelby, what the hell is wrong with you?" she quipped, slamming his office door and shaking his now iced glass. "pol-" she cut him off, "don't poll me, boy." she stated promptly and he knew to shut up. "your sister is this close, this close!" she said emphasizing with her fingers. "to slipping away, and do you really want that? really want that boy?" she seethed, "i don't care what you have to say thomas but she is going to that ball whether you like it or not." she said standing her ground, and he knew it was golden. one to be left untouched. he sighed, "but its dangerous." he stated and she shook her head. "if its so dangerous, find a way to make it not dangerous! you have this whole empire, use it for something good." she stated before walking out. tommy rubbed his eyes, before standing up to go speak to arthur and john, who no doubt would be at the garrison. he knew deep down, he had to let rebecca do this and if he didn't he no longer would have a sister.
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rebecca brushed her hair as finn her little brother by 7 years, went on and on about his day at school. she giggled at naiveness and plain stupidness him and his little friends possessed. yet she adored it, and how they still saw life in the most purest form. rebecca on the other hand, her world slowly began cracking a year ago. she accidently walked into the garrison during a 'family meeting' that was in the back and therefore they hadn't heard her. then as they believed her to be sleeping, she heard more speaking and whispers late one night. the world she once saw was not what she saw now. she realized how dark, cruel and unforgiving it could be. so it came to no surprise when her name was not on the damn list but a huge part of her wish it had been. she wanted to be like every other university girl in this town, but she was afraid she'd never be. "alright fi, time to get to bed." she smiled turning around in her vanity chair. fi was a little nickname she gave to him one cold night during the war and it had stuck between the two since. "i don't want to." he huffed, crossing his arms. "you have to, it is quite late. don't let our big scary brother find out i let you stay up past your bedtime." she grinned, running over and tickling him. finn's laugh filled up the room, alerting the whole house he was still awake. francis smiled as she tidied up the kitchen. tommy stirred in his cat nap, feeling a ginormous headache coming on. but as he listened to the laughter and shrieks coming from upstairs his heart softened. his cold and locked heart, always swelled just a bit more when he heard finn's laugh. a contagious one at that.
rebecca shooed the boy after a minute, and wrapped her arms around the almost 13 year old boy. "i cant believe you're going to be 13 in a few days." she hummed, and he started to squirm in her arms. "oi don't become a teenager just yet." she giggled, and he stopped fidgeting. the two sat on her bed for a few minutes more before deciding it was time to get him to bed, "come on love, time to go to sleep." she said letting him get off of her lap. he yawned, and she grinned knowing full well he'd been trying to hide his exhaustion so the two could stay up just a bit more to talk. rebecca was truly all finn knew, he was only 8 when the boys went off to war and when they came back it was a shell of what they had been. rebecca cared for him like he was her own for as long as she could remember. just as tommy thought of her and finn as his own, sometimes. "come on." she whispered, taking ahold of his hand and walking towards the conjoined rooms that were separated by a thin wall and door.
tommy heard from his office the fight that finn was putting up and then it stopped, and he smiled softly knowing his exhaustion finally won. he'd always have trouble getting finn to sleep especially when everybody was over but rebecca - becs - always had a way with him. she was soft, kind, heart warming and gave the best hugs in the world. oh, and a cookie here and there. he looked at the grandfather clock in his office and decided it was late enough, and that he'd finish everything in the morning. he slowly walked upstairs, saying goodnight to francis and he stopped without knowing in front of rebecca's door. he heard her mingling about, getting ready for the next morning and trying to find her one book she'd hid without realizing. he knocked softly on her door, and she knew who it was. she walked over to her door, and opened it to reveal and tired and somewhat bothered tom shelby. she rolled her eyes, and walked towards her bed. he took that as a cue to walk in, and she faced him once she sat on her bed. she sat pretzel style, waiting for him to speak.
"becs, there are things-" she cut him off, "cut the bullshit tom. i don't want excuses." she said coldly and his eyebrows knit together in confusion and then in understanding. "you know?" he asked almost in disbelief and she rolled her eyes again, nodding. "when?" he asked, trying to figure out when she'd heard things. "the garrison last September, right before university started. then again over winter break, here at the house. and then last week when i woke up from a nap." she explained and he stood there processing it. "i know you've tried to keep me and finn safe but tommy." she paused, and he looked up at the nickname. "you cant keep my cooped up here forever. i cant live like this nor will you be able to when I've turned this house upside down." she said a bit lightheartedly. he grinned, "its not like you haven't don't that already." and she smirked. "i am the only female in this bloodline, it was to be expected." she smiled, a genuine smile. "and the only blonde and blue eyed one." he said and she pointed at him, in agreement. he looked down, and thoughts plagued his mind. "tommy...i need to do this. you need to let me do this, i cant stay in birmingham forever. i want a life outside of this place, i dream of faraway places. i dream of chicago or los angeles, i dream of a air so clean it hurts. i dream of a place where i don't fear to step out of my house, where i can be who i want to be, wild and free." she paused as tommy looked up. "i want the fairytales mum used to say and the one's aunt pol spoke about...i want my prince charming far, far away from here. you-you need to let me go tommy. or ill never escape this thing- this place." she said saying the words he'd longed to hear. just not the america part.
"okay." he simply stated, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "ok-ay?" she questioned, and he nodded. "okay." he repeated. she felt her heart flutter and butterflies grow with excitement. she jumped off the bed, and threw her arms around the usually stone cold brother. he froze for a second before chuckling, and wrapped his arms around his baby sister. "thankyou thankyou." she said genuinely, feeling as if she was on top of the world. until she wouldn't be.
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rebecca walked down the stairs to find michael and aunt polly waiting for her, at the bottom. because her brothers were out of the age frame, it was determined that michael would 'send her off' and accompany her that evening. she smiled at michael who truly was her brother, as the two had stuck with one another during the war. and being so close with aunt polly, cemented it further. finn shouted from the top steps as michael was about to walk out with her. "becca wait!" he screamed, and she turned around to see her kid brother rushing to hand her a single rose. she knew exactly where he got it from, mrs.hanovers front garden two blocks over. "oh bubba, thankyou." she smiled hugging him. "i hope you have a good time tonight, and break a lot of hearts." he joked and she giggled nodding. "i love you, don't forget that." finn said pulling her in one last time. she smiled, "i love you too fi." she said before kissing his cheek and michael retook her arm. he hooked his other arm on pollys and the three left finn with franics.
the shelby boys and their partners were already at the grand hall, polly walking in shortly before rebecca and michael would walk in after being announced. he looked down at his cousin who practically was his sister at this point, and he saw the nerves beginning to seep over. she could not shake the feeling of dread, and one of fear. she had woken up during the night in a terror, finn quickly running over to check on her. he'd found her in a cold sweat, heart and mind racing. he held her as she shook, not understanding what her mind was fighting. thoughts so unfathomable for her, and one's that would not be dared to be spoken. michael rubbed her arm, and that comforted the blonde. "thankyou michael again, for doing this." she smiled up at her younger cousin - by only a year he liked to joke. he nodded kissing her temple, and she held on tightly to the rose finn had given her.
polly on the other side of the curtain found the boys and their partners, nodding to tommy who stood just a little taller. grace at his side, smiled softly knowing polly had settled his nerves just a bit. the crowd turned their attention toward the debutants and their partners. the crowd gushed, oohed and ahhed over the affair. it was now rebecca's turn, and she felt butterflies flooding her body. michael winked at her and then they walked out. rebecca's champagne-colored dress dazzled the crowd, her blue stone necklace glinting just a tiny bit in the light. rebecca amelia shelby, the girl who shall not be named was finally being seen by many. the shelby girl kept in the shadows for most of her life, raised by her kid brother and so called addicted aunt, had barely seen the light of day for school. let alone, the slum of birmingham. she smiled widely as the crowd clapped for her like they did for every other young lady tonight. michael walked her over towards the family as he had spotted them rather quickly, while rebecca was lost in her own world. they turned towards the family, as the crowd murmured about the young girl. she would not be forgotten, not now and not ever.
they walked up to the group and john quickly hugged rebecca, then arthur and then tommy who only nodded at her. oh for the love of appearances, rebecca silently cursed. aunt polly gushed about her dress and entrance, to which grace and esme agreed. rebecca thanked the women and turned around to look at the two debutants who had just been introduced. she politely clapped, and quickly found her best friend, olivia who Michael had become quite fond of. "please excuse me." rebecca said to the group before walking over to her and brother. "if it isn't miss beauty-" olivia started, "miss grace-" rebecca giggled. the two had recently become quite fond over america and the idea of the west, and what it could possess. their interest peaked when they saw there was a miss america pagenet and olivia was smitten. "miss united states." olivia whispered the last part causing rebecca to laugh loudly. "so did you tell him?" olivia questioned, eyeing tommy who was also eyeing the two. rebecca shrugged, "you didn't tell him?" olivia eyes went wide. rebecca shook her head, "its not like you haven't talked about since the very day you turned 18 and we were roommates." olivia said as a matter of factly. rebecca sighed, "its not that easy you know him, you know them. they'll never let me go. besides i told him about it awhile ago but i know he hates the idea of me in chicago or los angeles without them." rebecca stated and olivia rolled her eyes. "if i didn't love you as much as a sister, i'd march right up to him and go ballistic. y'know that?" olivia smirked and rebecca nodded. she'd been keeping her best friend at bay for months now.
"besides i just got archie to come with us when we do hit the west." olivia said cheekily and rebecca's eyes went wide. it was true, rebecca was smitten the older boy of two years. she had been for years, and olivia loved to tease her about it. "he's going?" rebecca in a whisper and olivia nodded, "he said he couldn't let his little sister fend for herself without him." and rebecca laughed loudly and boldly at this. arthur and john looked over along with tommy who'd been eyeing her the whole conversation. "see shes having a great time, tommy boy." arthur said clapping a hand on his shoulder. to which, tommy shoved off.
"maybe ill have to get michael to come with or at least visit us until you see how madly in love he is with you." rebecca giggled like a little girl. "rebecca amelia." olivia prompted, and rebecca clicked her tongue. "you twisted girl." olivia said sipping her champagne fluke, and archie gave one to rebecca. she smiled at him and thanked the hazel eyed boy who smiled back at her. "whos the rose from?" olivia asked and rebecca smiled, "finn." she said and olivia gushed. "that's so cute where'd he steal it from?" she teased and rebecca laughed. "mrs hanouver two blocks east." and olivia gasped, "that little grifter." olivia said about finn, and rebecca rolled her eyes. she looked back to see her family dispersing just a bit, while tommy and grace stood in the same place talking to another older couple. "i should head back, but i will see you later...at the after party?" she whispered the last part, and olivia smirked. "don't you know it." she smirked, and then rebecca turned towards archie. "as always it is a pleasure." he smiled, taking her hand in his and kissing it. her cheeks turned crimson and she let it fall to her side before turning around and walking towards tommy and grace. he turned towards her, as she walked up to them. he stopped the conversation short, and grace went to go find polly. tommy gave his sister his full attention, and she smiled. "see? that wasn't so bad." she teased, taking his outstretched arm. he chuckled, knowing that the threat of life was not over and done for the evening.
"so what do you think of the idea of a trip out west this winter?" she said gaging his response. "i heard al capone is a great guy." she teased and he chuckled briefly. he'd been in contact with guys in new york and new jersey and knew just how great of a guy he was. somebody just like tommy but even worse. "tell me why you know who capone is?" he questioned softly and she shrugged, and tommy rolled his eyes now. "oi! don't be rolling your eyes at me." she playfully joked and tommy could not help but crack a little bit more. he just laughed, as the crowd began to disperse into the bigger ballroom to have dinner and have some dancing. tommy and rebecca stood their for a brief moment, looking at one another. he pulled a piece of stray blonde hair behind her ear and questioned softly, "when did you grow up?" and she blushed. "i did a long time ago tommy..you just didn't want to notice." she smiled softly. despite all of the rules and regulations he imposed on her once he came back from the war, she wouldn't have had it any other way. the amount of nights in she received with finn from tommy, and her brothers were ones she was going to cherish. "tommy." she said just as he was about to take another step towards the grander ballroom. he looked back and saw nerves and anxiety plagueing her features. he tried searching her eyes but came up short, "i wanted to let you know that i wasn't joking when i was talking about going west." she began and he felt her slipping, slipping from his fingers. "i am going west once i graduate this spring, olivia and i will be going together." she said not sure of his response. but she never got it. as soon as tommy opened his mouth, he looked forward and saw the commotion that he had worried about. an italian mobster outstretched his hand with a silver weapon, pointing it at tommy. for it to only hit rebecca instead as arthur pushed him over.
chaos rose throughout the hall, as tommy screamed. rebecca fell in his arms as he had tried to push her back behind him. her champagne dress now crimson red. she looked up at tommy, as he cradled her in his arms. she could not hear a thing, as she looked up at him. as he yelled for an ambulance, for somebody to help. she pulled his face to look towards her's, eyes swelling with tears in her blue eyes. she knew these were her last moments, and she did not want them to be filled with the ceiling but on somebody she loved. could of been arthur, michael, finn- anybody. her hand finally unclutched the single rose as polly kneeled down. "i'm sorry, i'm so sorry!" tommy cried looking down at rebecca. he cried, as she was losing her grasp on this world. arthur was the first one to look back at his sister, then john and then michael. it was as if time was frozen, as the four men in her life watched her breathing her last few breathes. "im sorry." tommy whispered again, words spitting with salty tears. rebecca shook her head, "you did-did everything you thought was right. i-i-i could never fault you for that tommy." she said slowly and brokenly. "i love you so much, tommy." she cried out, and that made tommy cry even harder. "i love you too, blondie." he sobbed. arthur fell to his knees, as rebecca slowly took one last breathe; fighting gravity as her chest weighed down. once tommy realized she'd stop breathing, he lost it. his sister was not supposed to leave this world at the hands of his doings. she was supposed to live a long beautiful life somewhere far away from here, with her two kids, dog and husband she'd long to have. she was supposed to get out of this place and never look back. she was never meant to have her demise be here in birmingham.
tommy cluthed his sister's lifeless body as his world was breaking. polly clung to michael who'd now kneeled beside her. arthur sobbed face down and john grabbed ahold of olivia as she tried to see where her best friend was.
rebecca amelia shelby, the long lost daughter of the shelby clan, the one who shall not be named would be named forever in this town of birmingham.
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oh my goodness!!!!! i hope you all enjoyed, and if you did so please like, comment and repost-- i will love u forever xx
also not me playing the titanic suite medley and crying at the end lol
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pacifymebby · 3 months ago
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t r o u b l e / chapter thirty five
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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
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call-sign-shark
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izabesworld · 2 years ago
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Peaky Blinders Fan-Fiction Help!
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As someone part of the Roma community, I’m trying my hardest to spread awareness of the struggles the Roma community face, and how to help people make respectful choices when writing pieces about us.
I want to try my best to give you accurate names, to tell you what we did in the time period and how we did it. I’m focusing primarily on Peaky Blinders as I know that is what brought Roma so much attention, and it would be so easy to misinterpret us.
I’m going to split it into topics that you can find, with links for east access. I’ll give you popular jobs, popular names (which are often more “normal” than you’d think) and how we lived our lives.
I want to do anything I can to make sure our culture is represented, and make sure it is represented well! <3
A post that may interest you: Peaky Blinders and the Roma community.
GENERAL RROMA CONTENT
ROMA NAMES (FIRST, LAST AND MIDDLE)
ROMANI NAMES PT2
SPIRITUAL BELIEFS
COMMON ROMA JOBS
ROMA ATTITUDES (HOW TO PRESENT US IN YOUR WRITING)
ENGLISH ROMANI LANGUAGE
HOW TO REFER TO ROMA
CURTESY WARNINGS
ROMA AND CABBAGE
WORLD WAR ONE - ROMA JOBS
THE ROMA FLAG
MY TAKE ON THE WORD GYPSY
APPLEBY HORSE FAIR
APPLEBY HORSE FAIR (2)
ROMANI FOODS
PALMISTRY AND TEA
CONCERNS PEOPLE HAD WITH MY POSTS
Misrepresentation.
Dismissal of the bad.
țigan/cigan
ROMA NEWS
16 year old Romany boy shot by Greek police.
Rroma Heritage Month (June 2023)
PEAKY BLINDERS ROM
What dialect would the peaky blinders speak?
Shelbys and religion.
Peaky Blinder S6 culture
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ALSO
slight obsession with the idea of a peaky blinders dr....where youre a shelby and dean joins the peaky blinders in like his michael fit and....you and dean become YOU AND DEAN and lots of 1920s sex and vibes LMAO i have issues
OR IMAGINE THE OPPOSITE
SAM AND DEAN ARE IN PEAKY BLINDERS AND YOU MEET THOMAS SHELBY AND HHHGISJGHKJDHKJSDD *horny noises*
can someone do a fanfiction with thomas and dean please i dont think i can live much longer without it-
IMAGINE YOUNG DEAN WINCHESTER IN THE MICHAEL FIT UHHHHH
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warnersister · 6 months ago
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How the Peaky boys would react to “you wearing a sundress” -> headcannon
(NSFW) but more implied then truly written, but still read at your own risk
Tommy🪖
🪖it was a hot day, and you were rummaging through your clothing chest to try find something suitable to wear to bear the heat outside.
🪖Tommy had headed out early, business to attend to with Alfie Solomons.
🪖he hadn’t meant to wake you, trying to sneak around the bedroom to get dressed and get out of the house: especially after a… long night
🪖but still, you stirred and whined “Tom?” You breathe with a rasped voice “s’alright, back to sleep darling” he instructed but you endured, sitting up and stretching your arms high above your head and Thomas watched as the covers fell to reveal your bare torso and it took all his self control to stop salivating.
🪖you climbed out of bed and threw the slip dress over your head, heading towards your husband who was buttoning his shirt in the mirror
🪖you turned him towards you and swatted his hands away, and he allowed you to finish buttoning his shirt for him, finishing the top button and pulling the collar down to kiss him.
🪖”Solomons is coming by today” Thomas huffed and you looked up at him with narrowed eyes “long meeting?” You ask and he shakes his head “shouldn’t be” you nod “d’you want me to come by later? Bring you some lunch?” You ask and he connects his eyes with yours “y’know y’worry me when you stay in there all day” you continue and he offers a small smile. “I’ll take that as a yes” you say, kissing the corner of his mouth and tapping his chest, ushering him out of the door. “Go on, shoo.”
🪖he smirked and grabbed his cap on the way out, whistling as he went
🪖so there you were, already sweeting with mere silk on your body
🪖you saw a dress with the tags still on, yellow and billowing at the bottom: sundress
🪖you looked it over one before deciding it was the perfect choice for today’s endeavours.
🪖you’d nipped out to the market first, collecting some supplies to make him some soup or whatever you could conjure up.
🪖you even grabbed some sunflowers too; having bought him a vase for his office, thinking it needed some life brought into it, given the volume of lives that were lost in that room.
🪖later in the day you headed to Tommy’s office, assuming that his meeting must be done by now and to feed him.
🪖you’d headed to the Garrison, greeting Harry and having a few wandering eyes following you as you approached the Blinder’s designated room, thinking nothing of it as you turned the door knob.
🪖Tommy couldn’t be mad at your intrusion for the sheer sight of you. His pupils blew out of his head as he looked you over, he’d never seen this dress before. Yet his jaw gritted at the way Alfred fucking Solomons had the same reaction.
🪖”oh I’m so sorry gentleman” you said, pivoting to leave “no no, sweetheart. Alfie was just leaving. Weren’t you?” Tommy asked and Alfie creased his brows but with the eyes his business partner was giving him told him everything he needed to know. “Yeah yeah, just leaving Tom”
🪖Alfie stood, to leave and smiled at you “lovely to see you, poppet” Alfie said, you’d always gotten along with him; you hugged him as he welcomed it, and he grinned at you “you look gorgeous you, yeah? Lovely new dress. Fabulous it is” “fuck off Alfie” “yeah yeah I’m going, bye love”
🪖Tommy looked you over as the door clicked shut with tight lips. “I’m sorry Tom I didn’t think he’d still be here-” “have you had that on all day?” He cuts you off and you raise your brows “the dress?” “Mhm” “oh yeah, found it earlier. Never worn it.” You say, spinning to give him a giddy look at it.
🪖Tommy couldn’t help but smile “c’m ere.” He beckons you over and you approach him “I brought you some lunch-” you begin “nah, got all I need to eat right here” he says and grabs your hips, prompting you to discard your basket on his desk.
🪖he sits back in his seat; opening his legs to pull you to stand between them. He gently takes the fabric between his fingers, then drags his hands so slowly up to your torso, not looking at your face. You fidget anxiously, his hands dragging back down to the hem of the dress.
🪖”dangerous wearing this, love” he says, dipping his hands under the dress to rest on your upper thighs, finally looking at you. You smile. He realises how easily the fabric is lifted, pushing you back to sit on his desk “can’t do this to y’old Tom and expect to get away with it” he says, with a tut, unzipping his trousers and removing his suspenders as he pushes your underwear to the side.
🪖”I’m buying you more o’ these.”
Alfie🧸
🧸Alfie was sat reading the newspaper in his armchair, Cyril asleep beside him when you came into the room.
🧸”so, what do you think?” You asked and Alfie looked up but had to do a double take. A white sundress with frilled straps and tight torso. “Blimey poppet, what’s this then?” He asked, dropping his glasses to the end of his nose to get a better look at you.
🧸”a sundress Alf!” You say, “y’bought it last year, remember?” “Thought I’d remember buying something like this.” He says, standing to his feet, moving to take your hand in his own “give us a spin then darling” he says, turning you as the fabric billowed as you went only for your gorgeous beaming face to return to him.
🧸”now this is fucking fabulous ain’t it darlin’, fucking fabulous. Bloody love it. Suits you nicely” he mumbles as you smile “but y’can’t wear it” he says and your face drops “y’what?” You asks, brows furrowing. “Y’aint givin y’old man heart palpitations and expecting me to let y’out of the house, flower. Not like this” he says sternly, wagging an accusatory finger at you.
🧸”but we’re got to go to the market-” you protest “nah, we ain’t” he says, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder as you yelp. He flips the rim of your skirt up so he gets a great view of your ass, smacking it lightly “Alfie!”
🧸”don’t think I won’t shag y’on these stairs, treacle, now let me get up the fucking stairs, yeah?”
🧸then later in the day when you’d finally manage to coax him off of you and out of the house to the market, there was a hand permanently on your waist. And then at some point you bent over to smell some flowers and Alfie couldn’t help but lean his hips into yours. You yelped “Alfie!” You hissed. “C‘mon love I can’t cope.” He grunts, impatiently prompting the rest of the shopping to go by faster, flipping the skirt of the dress up again when he finally got back to the car.
Arthur🍺
🍺so. Fucking. Antsy.
🍺can’t keep his fucking hands off of you.
🍺left early, didn’t he? Ended up waking you up; banging all the doors shut and all that as he clambered out of the house.
🍺you decided that was your wake up call regardless, knowing full well that if he’d have left in a state such as the one he was in last night then it wasn’t good business. Meaning it’d perk him up for you to visit him and calm down his anger during the day, even if it was only a chat to rectify his emotions.
🍺you’d gotten yourself dressed without a second thought, inly to do a double take and head right back into the house when you felt the sweltering temperatures outside the from door.
🍺you’d rummage through your clothing chest, struggling to find anything suitable for such an occasion, used to the drizzly cool downpour of the indefinite English winter.
🍺then you spotted it; the sundress
🍺Arthur had gone mad for it last year, and it was forgotten about at around Christmas time when it was way too cold for attire like that, but now was the perfect opportunity to wind him up again.
🍺and you were in a teasing mood after the way he’d slammed the front door shut and made a crack in the mahogany.
🍺so you’d slipped it on, it was a lovely shade of pink; baby pink to be exact. Arthur loved that colour on you, made him forget all his troubles and appreciate his woman for a while - especially when he couldn’t get his hands off you. So, giving yourself a once over you spritzed a bit of the expensive perfume Thomas had kindly gifted you the Christmas prior, the one you knew Arthur liked the smell of, and headed out the door.
🍺you decided to stop by the bakery on the way to his office, the bakery with the young cashier who had a large crush on you who Arthur absolutely despised, and you knew it’d get him even more rilled up knowing full well that you’d been in that dress, had leant over the counter while the young lad stumbled over his words and explained what was in every one of them, let you sample the one that the lad knew full well was your favourite, and gave you it on the house with a tip on the hat and a kiss on the hand.
🍺yeah this was turning out to be a pretty good day.
🍺so you waltzed through the building, little spring in your step as you greeted all the turning heads who watched you as you walked.
🍺you knocked on his door “fuck off” and you opened it “sorry Arth, thought you’d want some company” you say in the shyest voice you could manage to muster. His demeanour immediately changed when he heard your voice, his posture settled but when he looked at you his mouth ran dry.
🍺”brought you a bun” you say, taking it out of the bag you’d brought and knew full well he looked at the branding on the paper packaging. His jaw went slack. “Fuck me love, y’tryna kill me?” He asked, taking his cap off his head and shooting his head beneath it. “What do you mean, darling?” You asked, feigning innocence, heading to his desk as you placed the treat in front of him. “You know fucking damn well what. That bastard dress is back again” he says, grabbing your waist with calloused hands to bring you closer to him and he looked you over.
🍺”wearing the nice perfume too, ain’t ya love?” He asked meekly and you nodded “warm day and I couldn’t find anything else. Saw how quickly you’d left his morning so I thought I’d bring you something to eat” you say with a small, innocent smile as you stroked his cheek. He swallowed hard, eyes unwillingly shifting from you to the pastry on his desk.
🍺”y’ve been to that fucking bakery, ain’t ya?” He asked, gritting his teeth “well it’s your favourite-” “and that little bastard was serving wasn’t he?” He asked again, eyes narrowing “who? Daniel-” “yes fucking Daniel that little cock rocket who thinks he can get in your knickers that’s who” he seethed.
🍺then it dawned on him. “And he saw you in this fucking thing” he growled, bunching the pink material in his hands as he huffed “m’sorry Arth. Didn’t think” you reply. Liar. “Nah I think you knew. Knew to tease y’old Arthur didn’t you?” He asked, thumb drawing small circles into your waist. You replied with a small smile “I knew it! Y’little minx!” He chuckled, shaking his head.
🍺”well!“You exclaim, taking his hands and prying them from your waist as his face dropped “I’ll leave you be. Enjoy your pasty. Love you.” You say, turning to make your leave and he almost growled.
🍺”where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He asked, standing up after you as you walked back through his door, failing to suppress your smirk. He pretty much sprinted after you, grabbing you roughly and throwing you over his shoulder to turn right back around and into his office. “Got all I want to eat right fucking ‘ere. You ain’t leaving this office in this bastard dress” he promises, slamming the office door behind the two of you.
John🥃
🥃bold of you to think you’re even leaving the house with it on.
🥃he’s not like his brothers, he wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye unless Tommy was literally at the door screaming for him, and even then he was quick to reassure you before he sprinted out the house.
🥃no he liked to wake up with you, especially now there were too many kids to count running around the house.
🥃he liked to wake you up with little kisses, grab you at the waist and pull you back into bed if you tried to leave, brush his teeth beside you in the bathroom, help get the kids ready, pick your outfit, and let you tie his tie which usually took a good half hour between all the songs he’d sneak in.
🥃gave him a sense of homeliness.
🥃a bit of normality.
🥃today was no different, he’d woke you up with little kisses, rolling you to sit on top of him, legs either side of his hips as he repetitively kissed you as you giggled and tried to rise for a breath.
🥃”mammy I’m hungry!” A voice came from the doorway and you saw your agitated son pawing at his pyjamas as he looked at you desperately. “Fucking kid interrupting. About to fu-” John mumbled quietly before you were placing a hand over his mouth with wide, warning eyes. He smirked at you. “Alright mate, I’ll come, leave your poor mammy alone” John answered, finally managing to pry your hand away. “Thanks daddy” he says, giddily, as John reluctantly placed you back in bed and rolled out, chucking a shirt on and turning back to you. “Don’t move” he says, wagging a jokingly warning finger at you and you laugh “yes sir” you salute and he smirk.
🥃”right c’mon mate.” John says, grabbing your son and slinging him onto a piggy back to go grab him something to munch on.
🥃you practically jumped out of bed to go grab the new sundress that you bought last week, you hadn’t shown John yet and decided that today was the day you were going to wear it, especially now you had the quick couple of minutes of peace alone.
🥃”right, little’uns eating his breakf- fuck me” you spun around to look at your husband and smiled “what d’y think?” You ask, “g’i us a twirl” he said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. You did as he said and pivoted around, showing how the dress spun with you.
🥃”it’s a sundress” you say “I can see that flower” he replies, walking up to you to have a good feel of the fabric, gliding his hands from your upper back to your waist as he pulls you into him “y’can’t wear tha’.” He says simply and you giggle “why’s tha Johnny?” You ask and he raises his brows “that little name tells me you know goddamn why gorgeous.” He says “y’cannea wear it cause I’m not gonna be able to keep my hands off of ya.” He says, quickly turning to slam the door shut before picking you up and dropping you on the bed, climbing on top of you and leaning in to kiss you hungrily.
🥃you move to take the dress of and he shakes his head “now, now whole point of this dress is that it’s easy access now, ain’t it?” He hums “leave it on I’ll work around don’t you worry ‘bout me.” He says quickly with his tongue protruding to lick his dry lips as he looks you over.
🥃he dips his head under the hem of the dress and eats you like a man starved. “Mammy! Daddy we’re ‘ungry!” You hear from beyond the door and John stops his movement to come back up for air and clamp a hand over your mouth to stop the sounds coming out of it. John huffs, frustrated but clears his throat. “Harriet darlin’ can you reach the milk?” He asks after a minute “I can da’.” Her little voice replies “Toby can you reach the cereal?” “Uh-huh” the other retorts. “Great and Charlie? Bowls and spoons?” “Yeah I know where they are daddy!” The little one says “perfect. Harriet want you to get the milk, the big ‘un I’m not having you using up the fancy shit your mam bought from Camden. Y’here me?” He asks “yeah dad” “Toby, grab the cereal and Charlie get the bowls and lot.” He instructs “okay!” The collective voices come out. “Hannah need you to make sure it’s all gone to plan, alright hon?” He asks “sure thing” then you hear the patter of feel heading down the stairs
🥃”and I swear to god if any of you little shits make a mess y’ll all be up for the fuckin’ high jump!” He announces loudly, before quieting down and turning back to you “where were we?”
🥃and then when you’d finally managed to pry him off of you, he begrudgingly let you wear it “don’t forget we’re going to Alice’s garden party.” You say “what?” He asks, noticing how you’ve dressed all the kids appropriately “y’ain’t going looking like that flower” he says “I sure am. Come in you lot! In the car!” You say, ushering him out the door
🥃he managed to sneak you away one or two times at the party.
Bonnie🥊
🥊Bonnie’s just as bad as John
🥊cannot keep his hands off of you
🥊”’m takin’ y’ to Bonnie Gold’s fight.” Your brother said walking into the room “wear summot nice, that dress I bought you” “why?” “Just get dressed” you nodded at Tommy, not opposed to visiting Bonnie Gold any day.
🥊”is his sister coming?” Bonnie asked his dad hopefully and the man smirked “why?” “J’st wonderin’.” “Yeah well keep y’eyes on the prize” Aberama told him “she is the fuckin’ prize” “try keep y’hands off of ‘er until the fights over, yeah?” He asked and him and Bonnie just shared a knowing smirk.
🥊you put on the sundress Tommy had bought you the other week, deciding it was a nice enough day to have a breeze against your skin, plus you had a pair of lovely shoes to match.
🥊so you rocked up downstairs, dress on and ready to go and Tommy just gave you a once over “poor lads gonna have a fuckin’ heart attack” John said, laughing “shut up John” you reply, as he opened the door to the car for you, offering his hand to help you up. “You look nice” Arthur commented with a raised brow “damn fucker better win this fight”
🥊”Bonnie” Thomas nodded as he entered the building, followed by his brothers, you at the back with John who’d strung an arm over your shoulder. “Mr Shelby” he nodded at him, but was clearly distracted. “Don’t you worry, Bonnie. She’s right ‘ere.” Tommy says, moving out the way for John and you to come into his view. “Hiya, Bon.” You smile “hiya flower” he manages to muster.
🥊yet, his breath had caught in his throat at the sheer sight of you. Your gorgeous face, hair done up nicely, and a fucking milkmaid dress. Some lovely sundress that other men didn’t deserve to see. Bonnie’s jaw clenched.
🥊”right, we’ll leave the two of you for a minute. Aberama, let’s chat” Thomas said, leading the others away “if he tries anything come and fuckin’ find me.” John said, looking Bonnie over once with narrowed eyes before strutting off after the others.
🥊Bonnie smirked looking at you “y’look lovely” he said quietly, approaching you “not too bad y’self Bon” you giggle as his hands wrap around you, leaning down to kiss you gently. “This fuckin’ dress. Y’do it on purpose?” He asks and you crease your brows “do what?” You hum and he sighs “I guess you’re not beautiful on purpose are you darlin’?” He grins, grabbing your hand to drag you into his changing room and lock the door behind you.
🥊he picks you up and you squeal with a laugh, wrapping your legs around his waist as he holds you against the door. He slips his hands under the hem of the skirt and holds your thighs gently.
🥊”this fucking dress” he says, chuffed that he managed to slip his hands all the way up to settle on your waist and you just smiled at him. You could feel him toying with the waistband of your panties and you laugh “Bon we’ve only got ten minutes!” You giggle and he sighs “guess we’ve got to be quick then, ay sugar?” He asks, undoing his trousers and just merely pushing your panties aside.
🥊you lean your head into the curve of his neck, muffling the sounds erupting from your mouth and muffling them with his bear skin and he slid in and out of you. “God ‘m so fuckin’ obsessed with you.” He groaned “y’know what this makes me think of?” He asks and you shake your head in question against him. “Makes me think of a mammy. What a mammy should wear when she’s pregnant ‘nd can’t get into nothin’ else.” He mumbles. “This wha’ya were tryna do t’me?” He asks “tryna get me to make y’a mammy? Cause it’s working darlin’. So well.” You whine at his remark.
🥊and when you both finish you try to pull up from his shoulder but he holds you firmly in place “Nuh uh. You dress like a mammy y’become one” he says and you can’t help but smile at his statement. Eventually, he unwraps you from his waist and lets you down onto shaky legs. A knock comes at the door “five minutes, son. Get your hands wrapped” you hear Aberama say to him followed by leaving footsteps. You smile up at him “c’mon I’ll wrap your hands”
🥊you pull him to where the wrap is, sitting him down on the bench and standing between his legs as you work on protecting his hands.
🥊He was being extremely difficult
🥊trying to wrap a man’s hands when all he wants to do is have them under your dress is an extremely difficult task as he kept groping at your skin rather than letting you work. “D’ya want your hands wrapping or not?” You ask with a huff and he smirks “would rather be doing somethin’ else.” He shrugs, but lets you finish. And when you do he pulls you into a tight hug, leaning against the fabric where your breasts were constricted.
🥊”Bonnie, c’mon lad it’s time” you heard your brother say from beyond the door, knocking on it thrice (sausage roll video lol)
🥊Bonnie groaned from under your dress (you didn’t know when he’d managed to snake his way back under there) but you grabbed his hand and yanked him from his seated position to standing; pulling him towards the door and unlocking it to take him to the ring.
🥊Bonnie pulled the hand that was dragging him, sending you flying into his chest with a force that nearly winded you as he gave you one last kiss. “Bonnie! Go!” You giggled, pushing him away and towards the ring, taking a stand beside your brothers as the match began.
🥊The rounds went by painfully slow for Bonnie; regardless of the fact that he was winning - but in reality it was only a good few minutes of pure fighting.
🥊then when the match was finished, he waltzed over to the Shelby family like he owned the place and offered a blood-filled grin as it dripped down his chin.
🥊”well done Bonnie lad.” Tommy said, lighting a cigarette. “Cheers Tommy.” He replied, adrenaline still pumping through his veins. “Didn’t y’get some money f’this match?” John asked, lighting his own. “Nah he’s got his own trophy right over there” Tommy replied, nodding at you as they all turned to see you chatting with Bonnie’s father.
🥊”just do us a favour” Thomas told him and Bonnie immediately nodded “marry her.” “Don’t have to tell me twice, mr Shelby.” Bonnie told him with a chuckle, heading to grab you to resume your activities.
Isaiah♟️
♟️haha.
♟️again, bold of you to assume that you’re getting fucking anywhere with that thing on.
♟️feel like it’d be a black sundress, one with frills on the sleeves.
♟️you’d gone for a walk with Finn, Tommy having told you both to fuck off for a while while they dealt with some deeper business; so a stroll around seemed to be the choice at hand.
♟️eventually though, Finn had gotten distracted by a sign you’d read that said ‘pretty women here shilling for a good time’ and left you to fend for yourself, opting not to follow your twin into the whore house, yet you weren’t in your own company for long, feeling a cap placed on your head and an arm around your shoulders.
♟️“Hey pretty, what’re you doing all alone?” Isaiah asked, as he feel into step with you, but came to a sudden halt almost lurching you back. “And who let you wear that?” His eyebrows raised as he looked you over. “Why what’s wrong with it?” You asked “nothin’ nothin’. J’st don’t understand why it’s not on my bedroom floor” you smacked his chest and giggled “Isaiah!”
♟️”y’shouldnt have been let out wearing this, love” he said, backing you against the wall of one of the nearby buildings. “Well I was with Finn” you reason “hmm? And where is Finn now?” He asks, taking your chin between his forefinger and thumb, forcing you to look at him.
♟️”in some whore house” you mumble in reply. He scoffs “some brother”. Then he starts again “why don’t we turn my house into a whore house and get that dress off you and into my room?” He suggests and you roll your eyes “such a way with words”
♟️”y’look fuckin’ insatiable” he says, leaning down to kiss that sensitive spot on the crevasse of your neck. “Dunno how I manage to keep my hand off you most of the time, doll” he shrugs “and in this? Fuck y’not gonna be walking anytime soon”
♟️you laugh at him “you wish peaky junior, now I was enjoying a lovely walk before you came along.” You hum, pushing him back by the chest and he scoffs “I’m a Shelby I can fend for myself” you shrug “not while I make you a Jesus.” He retorts, smirking like he knew he’d won. “Whatever, Isaiah” you say, calmly walking away
♟️he laughs loudly, running after you “c’mon Mrs Jesus we’ve business to attend to!” He announces, swiftly placing a hand onto your chest and pressing you back against the wall, lifting you up and placing hungry hands under the hem of your dress “Isaiah!” You scold, “not here!” He rolls his eyes “fine”
♟️and he places and arm under your knees and one to support your head as he carries you bridal-style back to his house. You clutch at his suit jacket and squeal at his action, holding on for dear life until you got to his home.
♟️did not wait until you got to the bedroom
♟️defo had his way with you against the door once it’d been firmly slammed shut and locked
♟️and on the sofa
♟️and the kitchen table
♟️and then bedroom
♟️(you never took the dress off)
♟️and eventually when you’d decided Tommy was probably done with his important business you managed to coax a begrudging Isaiah to the Garrison with you, who’d initially planned to keep you up all night with him but instead you were heading to a pub instead of his bed; which you’d end up in later anyways
♟️”oh she’s alive!” Arthur said sarcastically as you join them, noticing your presence and subsequently you noticed Finn’s. “How long did you last? Two minutes?” You asked and he scoffed “fuck off” “and of course I’m alive, I’m fine. It was Finn who left me alone!” You say, blame bombing your twin who looked at you with evil eyes.
♟️then Isaiah popped his head round “plus I wasn’t alone I was with Isaiah” you say matter-of-factly and Finn grits his jaw “what’ve I said about staying away from my fucking sister you fucking scrubber” Finn growls, landing a pent-up punch to Isaiah’s jaw who stumbled back slightly. “Didn’t say nothin’ ‘bout fucking her did ya?” He retorted and then he was running for the hills with three brothers sprinting after him.
♟️”men.” Polly said with a roll of her eyes
Michael🎱
🎱he wouldn’t be here nor there
🎱loved how it looks on you
🎱but hates the fact that other men see you wearing it.
🎱he makes heart eyes when he sees you in it, believing it to be the typical dress of a wife and mother; so it pretty much feeds into his delusions.
🎱the only time it saw the light of day in public would’ve definitely been when he’d been courting you. When he’d been invited to some garden party of a rich aristocracy down southwards.
🎱what Tommy failed to mention was that the Capitalist had a daughter a few months younger than Michael, of whom was extremely well spoken, and ridiculously pretty.
🎱he’d obviously weaselled his way over to you and the rest was history.
🎱and of course, history tends to repeat itself.
🎱again, you were heading to a garden party: Shelby arranged this time around, to show your initial family that the marriage between yourself and Michael was going well and therefore Tommy’s expansion to a more wealthier estate was worth the investment.
🎱”I’ll meet you there darling, business to take care of.” Michael had told you that morning while adjusting his collar, allowing you to help him straighten the tie you had wrapped around his neck. “Okay” you hummed, he always loved how you’d never pried.
🎱in reality he was off to see a man about a dog, in other terms; kill a man. Kill a man who’d been eyeing you up like a fucking slice of meat the evening prior. Eyeing you like he wanted to eat you like a man starved, as if your husband didn’t have a firm arm wrapped around your waist and oversized number of carats around your finger.
🎱even had the nerve to try talk to you, had groped at your ass and Michael covered your eyes with one hand while he clocked the bloke around the jaw with the other.
🎱never wanted a woman to see him fight, especially his woman.
🎱so he went about killing the man the next day; well he’s probably dead by now. He took his cap calmly to the man, beneath that bridge by the canal, castrated then blinded the man and left him struggling on the ground, having a couple of lesser known Peaky men surveying the area for the rest of the day to make sure no aid was to come to him, and when his struggling stopped they were to sort his body out.
🎱you made your way to the garden party independently, having worn a darling sundress; white and pristine and freshly pressed, accompanied by a sun hat and some subtle shoes; conservative enough for Michael not to complain that you looked like a whore, but skin-showing enough not to overheat in this sweltering weather.
🎱you were there before Michael, embraced by John and given a kiss on the temple by an already tipsy Arthur who was in that sort of mood where a gent gets rather happy when squidgy, it was a fine line with Arthur.. happy to angered
🎱but you entertained him, saying your hellos and greeting the rest of the family you’d married into, patiently waiting for Michael’s attendance.
🎱he was there soon thereafter.
🎱and he was fucking seething.
🎱he took one look at you as his mouth ran dry, grabbed your wrist and dragged you away from the garden getting countless opposing arguments from the likes of Ada and John questioning what he was doing
🎱but nothing could soften the red he saw.
🎱how dare you wear that dress?
🎱practically threw you into the car, you’d never seen him this upset, let alone have it take it out on you; his loving, doting housewife of whom he trophied for every mistake he made, initially he thought you were his punishment from god.. sent an angel for a devil to take care of. But he’d gotten the hang of switching into a loving husband the minute he returned home
🎱but tonight was different
🎱”Michael, darlin-” “how dare you?” He seethed and you silenced yourself “pardon?” “How many fucking times have I told you you’re not wearing this fucking dress in public, hmm? And you wear it around my fucking horny cousin?” He growls and you don’t know how to reply “he looks at you like you’re a fucking piece of meet, sweets.” He tells you, finally looking at you
🎱”undressing you with his eyes. Watched him myself.” “John has a wife-” “John hires prostitutes. Y’think he’d be a better husband?” He asks, knuckles white as he grips the steering wheel harder “no-” “no. Cause I’ve never hired a fuckin’ prostitute since we’ve been together, and I work hard for you, y’know. Got no where to take my anger out cause I love you so much.” He says and despite the harshness of his words your heart swells.
🎱”killed a man for you and I show up to you actin’ like a fuckin’ whore?” Your mouth opened agape and he chuckled darkly “think I didn’t kill that bloke? Think I’d leave him safe? Nah, not with my missus I wouldn’t” he confirms, placing a hand on your leg as he speeds back home.
🎱he stops the car and doesn’t move for a minute.
🎱”listen to me very carefully, flower. I’m going to change my bloody shirt, and you’re gonna go upstairs, lay on the bed and wait for me. Yeah?” He asks “yeah o’course Michael.” You say as you get out the car
🎱”and leave that fuckin’ dress on!” You hear called behind you.
Finn🎞️
🎞️Finn is just horny 25/8 icl.
🎞️doesn’t know what does it for him about that dress, but it does something.
🎞️it was a hot day, and the family was in some beer garden, Arthur already off his head drunk and the brothers just enjoying one another’s company after successfully ridding the threat of a rival family, the head now dead and the rest cowering to surrender.
🎞️Tommy told Finn to bring his lady friend, the one who worked at the bookshop along, decided it was time to meet the family, and so he did.
🎞️waltzed into your little hole in the wall, grinning as you peered your head around to see the customer who’d caused the door’s bell to chime, and you broke out into a mighty smile just as he did, him opening his arms for you to rush over and into a bone crushing hug.
🎞️even shared a sweet kiss as he said a gentle “hello pretty”
🎞️he noticed the dress you were wearing was new, initially not noticing it as he was too caught up in admiring you. “What’s this? Is it new?” He asked, taking your hand to spin you around. “It is” you grin, allowing the white flowing material to spin as he made you “it’s lovely” he says, noticing something about it but he didn’t know quite what.
🎞️”why are you here?” You hum with narrowed, suspicious eyes as you leant your chin against his dress “aren’t I allowed to say hello to my favourite girl?” He asks with a smirk “yes but I can tell there’s something. A look in your eyes.” You say and he sighs, defeated “party at the Garrison” he says “when?” You ask “right now” he says and you laugh “Finn I can’t just shut shop at 12 oclock on Thursday!” You say, as he reaches into his pocket, throwing ten whole pounds onto the counter “Finn! Where did you get that much money?” You gasp “don’t worry bout it. Enough for you to close?” He asks and you scoff “I can’t accept ten whole pounds, Finn” you tell him “sure you can cause I’m not having it back” he shrugs, pulling your hand to coax you out the door “okay fine!” You surrender as you relent, allowing Finn to pull you out the door and in turn, you lock your door behind you.
🎞️then when you showed to the party, you were greeted by tipsy cheers and hellos as Finn introduced you to his family, Polly and Ada immediately dragging you away to have a separate conversation as they question you about everything to which you giddily go along with.
🎞️John came to stand with Finn, where he was stood still; drink in hand as he watched you interact with his family. “What’s up, Finn?” He asked, nudging him with his elbow and Finn finally broke out of his trace to smile at his brother. “Nothin’.” He shrugged. “Can’t be about your missus, y’head over heels for her.” John said, and Finn immediately raised his brows in panic “no! no! Nothin’ like tha.” Finn said, shaking his head. “Then what is it?” John asked, looking at you, trying to figure his younger sibling out.
🎞️”dunno. It’s summot about that dress” Finn said, eyes raking over you as he tried to figure out what it was and his brother chuckles “easy access, mate.” John said and Finn creased his brows “y’what?” “Sundresses mate, fuckin’ kill me. Easy access innit? Don’t have to even take the dress off” John told him matter-of-factly, necking the rest of his beer in one. Finn’s eyes darkened and John couldn’t hold in his laugh at the realisation that Finn had settled that that was what it was.
🎞️John claps him on the back “if y’wanna sneak off I’ll cover” he said, but by the end of the sentence Finn had already started after you “cheers, mate!” He said to John “sorry, stealing her” he said to Polly and Ada against their judgement, dragging you away from the conversation and into the Peaky office inside the Garrison.
🎞️you giggle at his actions as he locked the dork “what y’doin sill?” You ask “party’s outside!” You say, as he picks you up and holds you against the door, dropping his hands for them to head under the hem of your skirt “right, ‘nd I’ve just figured out that this dress is driving me fuckin’ crazy” he says “you’re fuckin’ insatiable” he says “d’you even know what that means?” You ask and he shrugs “find me a dictionary later or summot.” He says
🎞️”what’s up with the dress” you ask, as he undoes his trousers “easy access innit?”
Aberama🌞
🌞Aberama is a cultured bloke
🌞by that I mean he’s had many a trips around the sun, and in that time good women are few and far between in his opinion
🌞so regardless of you being substantially his younger, he was positive that you were the woman for him and therefore he had to have you.
🌞recently you’d moved into his vardo with him, having left the urban life behind.
🌞he’d woken up one morning to the sun blaring at him through the unclad opening of the vardo, stretching his arms above his head in a mighty yawn, almost certain it was almost midday by this point; especially after the long trek they’d had to get to this sight the night prior.
🌞he reached his arm over, but the spot in the bed was cold and empty, a lone spot where you should’ve been laid. He creased his brows, shooting up in bed to a sitting potion, realising that you were no longer in the vardo at all.
🌞he groaned. Damn you and your early rising tendencies.
🌞he rubbed his eyes and pulled on a pair of undershorts, smirking at the remembrance of the night prior once you’d arrived. He popped his head out of the doorway, looking left and right but curiously not being able to find any trace of you.
🌞he climbed down the steps and placed his hands on his hips, walking around the side of the wooden structure towards the lake that trickled slowly downstream. And that’s where he found you:
🌞his gorgeous bride.
🌞he’d always told you that he never expected you to conform to the traditional gypsy wife role, never needed you to bear him any more children or do the cooking or cleaning. Hell, you could lay around all day doing nothing and he’d look at you with the same adoration he always does. He didn’t even expect you to want to live in a vardo, yet you’d shown up with a bag and a smile when offered.
🌞 yet you refused, you demanded to help. Demanded to conform. You would cook the rabbit he’d kill (given you’d been a bit sick at the initial sight of it). And you’d kill his clothes, paying no mind to any blood shed on it.
🌞you were knelt against the river bank, ringing some clothes out you just washed then placing them into a small wicker basket, in a dress he didn’t quite recognise.
🌞”what y’doin up, sweetheart? Thought I told y’to relax today” he started, beginning towards you. Your head spun and those wide, innocent doe eyes gleamed back at him “had a big journey last night. No good f’little girls to be working the day after” he said, matter of factly with a stern look.
🌞”just wanted to get these clothes washed” you mumble, placing the final garment in the basket. “And what’s this you’ve got on, hmm?” He asked, as you look at your clothes “oh it’s a dress” “Mm I can see that, darlin. Just never seen it before” he tells you and you stand to give him a little spin. “My sister bought it for my birthday” you said and he grunts, gently grabbing your hips to pull you into him and sway you back and forth along with the breeze, dancing to nature’s music.
🌞”well y’know what these dresses are?” He hums and you shake your head, placing both hands on his chest. “These dresses are the kind that mammys wear. The kind you’d wear when they’re all pregnant and swelled up with little babes.” He says, accusingly. “Kind that little wives wear that are asking for a hiding” he warns
🌞”didn’t mean nothing by it, abe. Just thought it was nice” you admit and he smiles “I know you did, princess. Just an innocent little flower y’are.” He shakes his head.
🌞”but y’ve seen the other mammys around the camp haven’t you? Seen how they’ve dressed. Think you know what you were doin’ to your old man” he teases and you shake your head “m too old to be a da’ y’know. Way too bleeding old. Punishing me ain’t ya? Just asking for a little’un” he tuts and you giggle as he picks you up bridal style and carries you back to the bed where he’d began
🌞”Aberama! The clothes!-” “Can fuckin’ wait” he grunts “got a little’un to put in ya first” he says, dropping you onto the bed and lazily flipping up your skirt to do what he did best.
🌞make your skin fucking crawl.
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Clementina pt1
A/N: hello! This is my first fic and hopefully you enjoy it. It was originally just a one shot fanfic but I didn’t realise how long it was going to be so I’m thinking it will be at least two parts but if you want it be a full series of how the Shelby’s adjust to clementina then just let me know! And if you already gathered, this is based after the scene in season 5 ep3 when Tommy and Polly visit the nuns at st Hilda’s. Hope you enjoy!. I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR YOU TO REPOST THIS ON OTHER WEBSITES AND TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.
Summery: the Shelby family are in for a shock when they find out they have a sister hiding in plain sight. pt2: pt3: pt4
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Word count: 1,567
The early sunrise fills the Shelby manor, the home of Thomas Shelby and his son is strangely quiet considering it is nearing six am on a Saturday. Commonly, the maids would have Charlie up and having his breakfast by now. however, the only noise filling the silence was the ticking of the small clock on the wall behind Tommy's desk in his office. Inside the office, sat Tommy and his aunt, Polly. accompanying the pair were five piles of old folders sitting on Tommy's desk and on the floor beside Polly's discarded handbag, which she placed there no less than seven hours ago. these folders currently hold the information of the young girls who resided in St Hilda's orphanage.
Two days prior, the aunt and nephew visited the nun-owned orphanage after Tommy had received a concerning report, from a young girl who recently left the care of St Hilda's after turning 18, about abuse that was occurring within the walls of the orphanage. after the rushed meeting, Tommy stopped the funding he was providing and Polly requested the folders of every girl in their care so they could place them into new orphanages ran by the Grace Shelby foundation. Tommy and Polly didn't expect was the folders arriving two hours before midnight and there to be nearly three hundred folders. they knew the orphanage was overrun but not that much. For the past seven hours, the pair had been reading and placing the folders into different piles for the different orphanages that they were going to place the girls in. Most of them were in Birmingham but the occasional one was in London or Manchester.
They were getting close to finishing, having only a handful left to read. this allowed Tommy to have another smoke break. he stood by the double-glazed windows, staring out to the fields watching as his horses walked around slowly and ate freshly cut grass. the room was still quiet, except for the reoccurring sound of Tommy blowing out smoke and inhaling every few seconds. However, the sound of Polly gasping under her breath catches Tom's attention, making him turn around, “Thomas” the middle-aged woman whispered, “You need to see this” she states, her voice full of shock.
Tommy frowns as he walks back towards his desk, “ what is it, ey?” he questions curiously, the newly light cigarette hangs from between his lips.
“Just read it Thomas” she sighs, Polly begins to bite her nails. a habit she does when she is stressed. Tommy opens the folder and begins to read the information, which was written in a hurry because the handwriting was messier than the others.
Tommy was confused at Polly's reaction, to him this was just another folder detailing information about an unwanted little girl placed into the orphanage five years ago. that was until he read the section about her parent....he slams the folder down on his desk and puts his cigarette out into his ashtray, he rubs his hand down his face, a sign he was stressed “ fucking hell” he grumbles, staring at the folder.
“ fucking hell indeed” Polly agrees, watching her nephew across from her “It seems you have a kid sister, out there Thomas” She shakes her head in disbelief, she knew Arthur Shelby Sr was known to sleep around but she did not expect to have another Shelby stuck in this world because of him. Polly grabs the folder again and begins to re-read it.“ another fucking Shelby” Polly chuckles under her breath, Tommy was quiet as he thinks about what they should do. he knew that it wasn't a good idea to bring her into the world of crime that the family were involved in but he knew Polly wouldn't let him leave her in the care of an orphanage.
Tommy suddenly stands up, grabbing his jacket “Pol, ring around, tell everyone to be here in three hours” he demands, walking out of the office not telling Polly where he was going and he didn't give her the time to ask either because he was out of the house and into his car in the record time of three minutes.
By the time everyone was around the Shelby manor, Tommy was back from wherever he left. He walks into his office. Polly was sitting on the chair was was sitting on earlier, Ada was sitting on the leather seat by the bookshelf with Karl standing beside her. Arthur was standing by the windows with Finn beside him. They were all waiting impatiently for him
“ thank fuck for that, thought you'd never turn up” Arthur states annoyedly. His hands are in his pockets.
Ada rolls her eyes at Arthur’s language “What’s the emergency that made you wake me and Karl up at six in the morning?” She questions Tommy.
Tommy walks over to his desk, pulling out a cigarette from his pocket “Me and Pol have been sorting through the orphan girls' files” he explains, sitting down at his desk.
Finn frowns “And what’s that got to do with any of us?” No one answers him, he was allowed to come to meetings but he isn’t allowed to contribute to them
Tommy lights his cigarette and inhales then exhales smoke before he begins to talk again “There’s a girl, who might be of interest to us” he looks towards Polly.
Polly smiles slightly “Her names clementine, nine years old” she explains, looking around at the Shelby siblings.
Ada shakes her head “Why would a little girl be of interest to you Thomas” She narrows her eyes slightly, feeling suspicious of Tommy.
Tommy rolls his eyes slightly and leans back into his chair “Her mother died when she was four, she was left with her drunken father, who lasted three months before he dropped her off at St Hilda’s” he repeated what he read in the file, three hours prior.
Pol sighs “ for god's sake Thomas, just tell them” she demands irritated, she sits up straight “Her fathers name is Arthur Shelby sr” she announces. The atmosphere in the office quickly changed, you could hear a pin drop from how quiet it became. Arthur coughs and runs his hand through his hair, confused as fuck as to what was happening.
Ada stands up and walks closer to Tommy's desk “We have a sister? And she’s still in that orphanage after what you found out” she states, taking the folder from Tommy's hand as soon as he takes it out of the drawer in his desk. She shakes her head and walks back over to her seat.
Tommy pours himself a glass of whiskey “Me, Arthur and Polly are going back to the orphanage to get her” he explains.
Arthur frowns “We are? Linda wants me back for dinner” he explains, shifting from his left foot to his right foot, his body language showing he was nervous since he knew what his family thought of Linda.
Polly grumbles “ I’m sure she can wait” she states, her voice filled with venom as she looks towards Arthur “We are saving a little girl from abuse” She stands up and walks over to Arthur “Not just a little girl, your sister, a Shelby”.
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theundercoversquid · 2 months ago
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An Unexpected surprise
Pairing: Luca Changretta x Shelby!Reader
Request: hello! love your account and writing <3 any chance of more luca x shelby sis? love that forbidden pairing maybe an unexpected baby thrown in there haha love ya​​
Warnings: Pregnancy
Masterlist
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You were so screwed. You were so completely screwed.
Tommy was going to kill you. Or rather, he was going to kill Luca, and then he was going to kill you.
Oh, god, Luca. You were going to have to tell Luca.
Oh, you are so screwed.
Your hands are shaking as you bring them up to your mouth, trying to muffle your sobs.
Once you have gotten it all out of your system, you straighten up. Walking to your mirror, you look at your red-rimmed eyes. Sniffeling, you splash some cold water on your face. Determined to make it look like you hadn't been crying. Not that you were going to succeed.
When you were sure you looked at least vaguely presentable, you went out in search of Luca.
When you find him, he is in his office. Looking important as people scurry about around him. But you ignore him. Heading straight for him.
"Luca," you call out. Trying to control your breathing so you don't break down again. "We need to talk."
As the words slip past your lips, Lucas's gaze snaps up to look at you. Worry fills his eyes and only gets worse when he takes in your shaking frame.
"Vita mia, what's wrong?" Luca asks as he rapidly approaches you. Pulling your shaking frame into him.
"Luca." You blubber as you break down crying again.
"Whats wrong tesoro." Luca murmers. Rubbing your back as you sob into him.
You don't say anything for a moment, trying and failing to get the words out.
"I'm pregnant." You admit, eventually. Your voice muffled. But you can tell he hears the words by the way he freezes for a moment before pulling himself away from you.
"Really?" Luca questions, and you can't guess anything from his tone of voice
"Really." You sniffle, preparing yourself for a painful reaction.
But ineasted Luca bundles you up into him.
"Vita mia thats amazing. I'm going to be a dad!" Luca exclaimed, holding you tight to him. "Oh, that's amazing." He tells you, dropping kisses onto your head.
""Really?" You question, looking up at him.
"of course!" Luca exclaims. "Why wouldn't I be happy?"
"Well, I was just worried. What about my brothers? People don't know about us. Luca, we aren't even married." You tell him.
"You are the mother of my child and the light of my life." Luca assures you. "I'd marry you right hear and right now if you would let me."
Laughing, you bat at his chest, all your worries fading.
Maybe you weren't screwed after all.
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veeisdunn · 1 year ago
Note
hi, hope youre doing well.
you said you would love to start writing again, and i just have this comforting thought with tommy as reader's brother
(tw: sh, scars, suicide ideation)
just, accomplishing a milestone of being clean, you look back at your scars, and stracing them with your fingertips. hmm, and maybe tommy keeps up with his promise of getting some air with him, at least once a week, and you catch up. i can see him noticing you strace onto them, and he does the same, and his genuine and loving brotherly side comes through. he tells you he loves you and is proud of you, just thankful for you <33
you can see this as a request or a prompt to write about, but you could also just see this as sharing tommy shelby brotherly love to his sibling <3 much love
Milestones
Tommy Shelby x sister!reader
I'm back!! Genuinely didn't think anyone would give a shit about my extended hiatus but I've been proven wrong. I'm going to be working through my requests so if you've requested, just know it's coming!! Thank you so much for the support and all the kind words, hopefully I haven't lost whatever kind of writing spark I may or may not have had...
To the lovely human who requested this, I really hope you especially enjoy it!!
warning: talks of self harm, description of self harm scars, mentions of suicidal ideation
WC: 2.2K
MASTERLIST
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
"No, look, as much as I'd love to come and watch you get the shit beaten out of you, I already have plans, Arthur." Tommy argues, hunched over the dining room table with a mess of papers.
"You and your fucking plans, Tommy." Arthur calls out, with an undertone of amusement, as he trudges out of the room.
You pass Arthur, your oldest brother, in the corridor, waltzing down with a skip in your step.
"What's got you so excited, love?" he chuckles
You smile and shake your head "Nothing much, don't get yourself killed tonight Arthur, okay?"
"Full of smart ideas, you are, eh?" He rests his weathered hand on your shoulder for a second and gives it a reassuring squeeze, "It's nice to see you happy again, Y/N." He smiles sincerely. You beam back.
"I'm just going to see Tommy" you explain
"Ah, well don't get disappointed, love, he has plans."
"They're with me." you admit, giddily
Arthur pretends to be deeply offended by this, "Tommy! I went in the fucking trenches with you, and now you're missing my fight to spend time with Y/N?!" he shouts back into the dining room
"Oh I'm sure Y/N could have been in France if she were old enough, she wouldn't have complained nearly as much as you." Tommy yells back.
You giggle and kiss Arthur on the cheek to wish him good luck before bidding him farewell.
When you walk in the dining room, you get the impression that Tommy is knee deep in some kind of bureaucratic nonsense, his papers scattered across the mahogany wood. Part of you expects him to tell you to leave - but he defies your pessimistic expectations.
"Right, let's go." He announces, slapping his knees and turning away from his work. You raise your eyebrows, as if to say "we don't have to go" but he ignores this and leads you from the room. He strides down the cavernous corridors of Arrow House while you nearly have to run just to keep up.
"Tommy…" you whine, trying to get him to slow down. He just laughs and walks faster.
You sigh, "Tommy!" you shout, frustrated. Instead of responding, he starts to run.
"Thomas Shelby!" you shout again, giggling as you kick off your wedge heels and run barefoot after him.
Eventually, you catch up with him at the front door. "Glad you could join me, Y/N!" Your brother teases as he puts on his coat. You roll your eyes and slide your shoes back on, slipping into your own coat.
The pair of you stroll down the sinuous path leading away from the house and into rolling fields. Tommy lights a cigarette and takes a long puff, unintentionally hitting you in the face with a cloud of smoke. He sees this and wordlessly slows down to walk on the other side of you. You admire how your brother can be so careless and thoughtful at the same time. You grin and look down at the path in front of you sheepishly.
This never gets old - you're weekly walks with Tommy. A couple of hours where you could both forget about the world around you and simply enjoy eachothers' company. You'd been reflecting on the past six months a lot recently, and today was finally the day you could proclaim you were six months clean from self-harm.
The routine started by mistake - around when you were found out. You were terrified, and rightly so. How could your family possibly understand this? They'd all done their fair share of bad things, but this? What you couldn't see was the complex cocktail of emotions your family was experiencing. Tommy, in particular, was infuriated with himself. The pair of you had always had a special connection, but then he found out you were suffering silently, hurting yourself, and you refused to confide in anyone. That's where the walks came in. Your brother was sick of watching you wallow inside the four walls of your bedroom, he practically had to drag you out. Knowing you were completely alone with Tommy helped you to open up - as he'd suspected, the house was suffocating you.
"I do this a lot. When I need to clear my head, I come out here and I watch the birds. Sometimes, if I'm really angry, I shoot them. But, you're not the violent type, eh? That's why this is so concerning to me"
"You know, Tommy, I never wanted to hurt anyone." you begin to sob, "I… I just have so many horrible thoughts, but I don't want to tell people, because they aren't nice to hear."
"Can I tell you something, Y/N? I am hurt."
Hearing this, you widen your eyes and your heart sinks. This was your worst fear, the reason you'd been taking things out on yourself in the first place.
"I'm hurt, Y/N. I'm hurt because I haven't been around enough for you. And I'm hurt because you're hurting. I don't want either of us to be in pain anymore, don't you?"
You never really had the words to express to Tommy how much that conversation meant to you. After hearing him, you made a vow to yourself that this would all stop. The only emotion you had which was stronger than your misery was your love for your family. You couldn't bear to stand them suffering.
You never really had to tell Tommy how much the conversation had helped you. You made it apparent through your actions - after a week had dragged by, you found yourself knocking tentatively on Tommy's office door again, feeling like a scared child.
"Tommy, can we please go on another walk? I want to talk."
He felt both relieved but also rather smug after that day - Tommy had cracked the code. He also grew to find this time beneficial for himself as well. When he was out alone with you, he wasn't 'Thomas Shelby, the criminal-soldier turned politician'. He was just Tommy.
" - Y/N? Are you even listening?" Tommy's gruff voice cut through your daydream
"yeah, mhm, of course" you reply, slightly flustered
"right so what's your answer, yes or no?"
Fuck. Yes is good… usually? Right? But this is Tommy, he could be asking anything. Maybe a no would be better - chances are Tommy is scheming something dangerous, and you should probably be the voice of reason.
"No, Tommy." You say with false confidence
"No? You don't want me to take a week off to spend time with you once your classes are over?" He chuckles
"Shit, no, yes! Yes I do! That sounds lovely, Tommy, really." you splutter desperately while he continues to smile.
"You weren't listening, love, weren't you?"
"No…" you whine, "Sorry…"
He lets out a soft laugh. "Well, if I have a ramble about some stuff, do you think you could listen to me?"
" …and then he told me that the cabinet don't see any of this as a priority anyway" Tommy sighed, finishing his rant which explained the mountains of paperwork he was buried in.
You don't have any advice to give, politics isn't one of your expertise, afterall. You rest your head on his shoulder and hum, as if to say "I hear you, [insert meaningful political statement here]" - or something like that.
He hums back, as if you're two birds in a song. You are both huddled under a willow tree, watching the sun set over the sown fields of the estate. Tommy treasures these moments in particular - you both sat in comfortable silence, breathing in the soft country air. He took comfort in the peaceful nature of your breathing, and how your silky hair tickled his neck with each exhale.
Your fingers absentmindedly found their way to your wrist, the memories of pain you held being particularly potent on this anniversary. You gently traced over the bumpy skin, you'd gotten used to this feeling - most people would probably hate having such shredded, scarred skin but you much preferred it to bleeding. Feeling the scars reminded you of how far you'd come, seeing that many of them were no longer red and angry reminded you that you were healing.
As Tommy put out his cigarette, he caught sight of your fingers caressing your wrist. Thinking about it made his heart sink - it had been awhile since you'd both spoken about it, and it had been even longer since he'd actually seen your wrists.
You'd had an awful day at school; you teacher had chastised you in front of the entire class for an essay you'd turned in late. You'd been clean about a month and you were struggling to keep it that way. You weren't expecting any of your close family to be around Small Heath, so you stormed through the front door and up the stairs, throwing your leather satchel of books across the room. You then went under your bed to search for your emergency box - containing a blade and some bandages. You weren't actually sure if you were going to use it, but you wanted the option.
That's how Tommy found you. He'd heard the noise, you'd have to be deaf not to. He let himself in your room and was greeted with the sight of you on the floor in tears, a blade in your hand.
He scrambled down to the floor and snatched the blade from your hand, putting it in his pocket. "Hey, Y/N, Y/N, look at me, okay?" He said frantically. You looked up at him with your glazed eyes and said nothing, paralyzed in fear. He wasted no time in rolling your sleeves up to check your wrists. He sighed a breath of relief to see only pinkish lines and scabs - no fresh cuts.
"Don't you ever scare me like that again, alright?" He wheezed to get his breath back, before engulfing you in a tight hug.
That was five months ago, and those dark, angry scars had lightened to create a cluster of white lines on your wrist. He moves his hand closer to yours, "may I?" he asks, gesturing to your wrist. You nod, not really sure what else to say. His touch on your scars sends shivers through your body. He raises his eyebrows at your reaction.
"Does it hurt?"
"No, it just feels weird."
He sighs and rhythmically runs his fingers across the bumps on your skin.
"They look better" he speaks in a low, tender voice
"it's been six months"
"six months today?"
You nod. Tommy cracks a wide smile, expelling the tension in the air. He takes his hand from your wrist and slings his arm firmly around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.
"You never cease to amaze me, Y/N, you know that, right?"
You blush and look down at your lap. He puts his free hand under your chin and gently guides your eyes to meet his.
"I know you get embarrassed hearing it, but I'm so proud of you Y/N, I'm so proud." Tommy speaks with a kind and earnest tone.
You scrunch your eyebrows, not wanting to take his love, "But most people never hurt themselves in the first place, Tom."
"Don't lessen your achievements, you aren't most people, Y/N. I don't care what they've all done or not done, I can bet you've fought harder than all of em" He says lovingly, squeezing your shoulder.
You can't argue with that, you have fought like hell to get to where you are.
"And, Y/N, I don't think I say it enough, but I love you. I love everything about you, even the parts of yourself that you don't like. I love all of you." Tommy's voice is quiet, almost as if he's whispering to you. You lift your hand up to your face and wipe away some stray tears.
"No, no, c'mere Y/N" he protests, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing your cheeks tenderly. This just makes you cry even more, your head collides with his chest as you try to calm your tears. Tommy wraps his arms around you and rocks you gently, resting his chin on your head.
"It's just - I just love you so much Tommy, but I don't think I show you enough and then… and then I feel so bad because I feel like I look ungrateful for everything you do for me but I'm so grateful Tom, and I just don't know how to show people that I care." You cry, you're angry at yourself, tears still flowing down your cheeks.
"Y/N? just take a breath, okay? Take a deep breath" Tommy reminds you, resting his hands on your shoulders, pressing his forehead against yours, "Just breathe, alright?"
You follow his words and take a shaky breath.
"You know, you're the last person who should be worrying about that kind of thing. You don't have to announce your love for people every day, you're actions speak louder than your words, love. You're a good person, you do everything with good intentions, and it's clear as day how much you care about everyone around you. I don't know many people who care as much as you do, Y/N." Tommy smiles, looking you in the eyes.
You smile, a few tears still falling. You sniffle.
"I love you, Tom."
"I love you… more." he smirks
"We are not having this argument again."
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
please drop me a comment or message with any feedback or suggestions! I'd love to hear from you ♡
Vee x
MASTERLIST
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Everyone: *chatting around the dining room table for a family dinner*
Tommy: *hands Y/N the salt*
Y/N: Thanks, dad
Everyone: *stops talking and stares*
Y/N: *confused* Why is everyone staring at me?
Ada: You just called Tommy ‘dad’. You said, ‘Thanks, dad’
Y/N: What? No! I said, ‘Thanks, bro’
Tommy: Do you see me as a father figure, N/N?
Y/N: Pftt- no! If anything, I see you as a bother figure, cause you’re always bothering me!
John: Hey! Show your father some respect!
Y/N: I didn’t call him ‘dad’!
Tommy: No, no, Y/N, I take it as a compliment
Arthur: It’s no big deal. I called Linda ‘mom’ once and she’s my wife!
Y/N: Guys, jump on that! Arthur has psycho issues!!
Finn: Old news. But you called Tommy ‘dad’
Y/N: Guys, for the last time, I didn’t call Tommy ‘dad’!
Tommy: That’s alright, I believe you-
Y/N: *sighs in relief* Thank you
Tommy: -daughter. You want to talk about it later over a game of catch?
Y/N:
Y/N: *tears up* I'd like that
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missmomof3 · 5 months ago
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Deep Regret (shelby sister fic)
Sorry if this is awful, this is my first time ever trying to write a fanfiction. I'm not sure what this would be classified as but probably too long to be a drabble. Maybe an imagine? If anyone reads this, thank you and I am fine with criticism (I'm sure I did lots of things wrong) but please be kind.
Summary: y/n shelby always tried to make her family happy, but they all believed Grace over her and soon most bonds were disintegrating, especially with Tommy, who she'd always loved and looked up to.
TW:character death, not proofread, possibly missing some so read at your your own discretion.
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"Y/N get in here!" Tommy yelled from his office at you where you were sitting in Michael's office doing your homework.
"What did you do this time" Michael asked, irritated but fortunately not at you, he hadn't turned on you.
You had always been Tommy's favorite sibling, him more of a father than a brother to you until Charlie was born. Until recently you'd even lived at Arrowhouse with Grace and him. But after Charlie was born suddenly Grace began complaining to Tommy of how disrespectful you were when no one was around. That you called her names, taunted her and even until they married, had nicknamed little Charlie "the bastard". But just to her, not around anyone else. You hadn't ever done any of that and at first were confused when Tommy began yelling at you frequently and you weren't allowed alone with Charlie anymore.
He held a family meeting without you there to discuss your behavior. By the time that happened you weren't friendly to Grace anymore because what was the point when you'd be in trouble anyways. The family had noticed the tension so for the most part believed Tommy when he told them of your troubling behavior and they began being short with you and before long it felt like all you had left was Ada, Finn and Michael. Polly was no Grace fan but was disappointed in you for supposedly insulting a baby and felt like you should be grateful Grace had agreed to let you live in their house. John, Esme, Arthur and Linda took that line of thinking as well, deeply disappointed in how you went from being one of the sweetest people they knew to being so disrespectful and cruel. They especially were disappointed that you'd be so two-faced and only do this while no one else was around. At least have the backbone to own your behavior was their thoughts.
So now here you were, living with Polly because even though she was disappointed you were still her niece, but living with hostility everywhere. You were still polite when you saw Grace, but now you held yourself back from everyone so their accusations and lack of faith in you didn't hurt so badly.
Responding to Michael's question with a shrug, you got up to walk into Tommy's office ready to be told off again for some imagined offense.
"Sit down y/n," Tommy said coldly, "and explain to me why you felt the need to make my wife cry last night."
Family dinner was held at Arrowhouse last night, and even though you hadn't wanted to go, Ada promised she'd be there and insisted you go with your head held high, knowing you were innocent. She never believed Tommy, remembering how it felt when Grace's betrayal took her Freddy away. Remembering you sneaking to her place to help with Karl, and how alone she felt thinking her brother betrayed her. It baffled her how her family could believe Grace over you, but whenever she brought it up they all asked why Grace would lie when she loved Tommy and she knew how much sending you away and practically severing his bond with you had hurt him. So she, Michael and Finn still staunchly defended you but gave up on getting through to anyone. That's why last night you stuck close to Ada, never being alone with Grace, in the hopes this very incident wouldn't be happening.
"Tell me, oh brother of mine, what did I do to Grace now?" You asked, no longer worried abour his reaction to your attitude since you had already grieved the loss of your relationship.
So he started laying out some imagined conversation that happened in the kitchen when Grace went to ask Mary a question. According to her you'd seen her and started criticizing her hosting skills, telling her what a disaster the upcoming charity gala would be.
You smirked at his tirade, because this time you knew you had proof. "Call Ada, ask her what happened last night" you said, standing up and getting ready to leave.
"I haven't dismissed you yet," Tommy clipped, grabbing your arm. "I am putting you on notice, if you do anything to embarrass Grace tomorrow night at the gala, I will have no choice but to completely cut you from the family the minute you turn 18. That means no help, no using the Shelby name, you'll be on your own."
"Bold of you to assume once I'm 18 I'll be sticking around here" you said, rolling your eyes, "I know my place now, at the bottom. When I'm an adult I'll take care of myself. I'll miss the family I had, but I'll make my own." Then you left.
Tommy sat with his head in his hands. You'd never know how much his heart broke to imagine you completely gone from his life. He didn't know how to reach you anymore. His sister, closer to a daughter. He still loved you so much and had hoped tough love would work, but he missed you deeply and choosing his wife and son had felt like removing a large part of his heart. If only you could have stayed the sweet girl you once were, before jealousy had taken over.
When Grace first went to him with your behavior, he hadn't wanted to believe it. But the more she went to him and the more you denied it the more arguments it caused between him and Grace. Until finally she told him he was putting his true family aside for a girl who wasn't his daughter, who would eventually marry and leave him, while his wife and son suffered in the meantime. It became easier to give in, to be angry at the strife in his house that you were causing. Especially when it stopped as soon as you moved to Polly's.
But he couldn't ignore the voice at the back of his head reminding him Grace was an accomplishhed liar while you had always been awful at it. So he called Ada. 30 minutes later he was more conflicted than ever but knew he needed to get answers from Grace. Ada confirmed you had never been alone with Grace, never even went to the kitchen. Then he spoke to Polly who also had never seen you leave Ada's side. Now Polly was beginning to demand he find out if they had been wrong all along, if her niece had been sacrificed for familiy unity. Michael had been chipping away at her beliefs for awhile now and this seemed to confirm it.
That night, Tommy sat Grace down, determined to find out the truth. After a lot of obfuscation and denial it all came out. She'd been feeling guilty for some time now whenever she saw how heartbroken and torn her husband was, but she was petrified he'd love his son less than his sister, and with her standing in the family being only strong because of Tommy's love for her and Charlie, she panicked and in that panic had thought if she got y/n sent away, Charlie and by extension herself, would always be his top priority.
This saddened him greatly for a multitude of reasons. Her lack of faith in him even though he'd never been the betrayer in their relationship, his poor choices, his cruelty to you, the loss of that bond. It all hurt.
The next day, before heading out on business he demanded a family meeting be held. He made Grace come with him and confess all. She did, because deep down she felt awful that she'd ruined the life of a sweet girl that had never been anything but kind to her. She'd seen the loss of spark in your eyes and couldn't deny any longer how horrible her behavior was. Maybe this could be fixed. At least your relationship with your family, especially Tommy. He missed you deeply and maybe the memories of all the years he'd loved and taken care of you could combat the time he'd spent alienating and breaking your heart.
The family was horrified but not shocked. Deeply disappointed in Tommy and themselves they made a plan to begin making it up to you. Tomorrow, after the gala, they'd all individually apologize and set about making things right. Work was cut short so they could all get ready, but at least tonight they'd be knd to you and start treating you like the beloved little sister you'd always been.
Tommy and Grace rode in silence to the gala. Grace didn't know how to bridge the gap and Tommy was lost in thought. Before they got out he turned to her and said "After you apologize to y/n, we can begin fixing us. You're Charlie's mother and I still love you, but you broke my trust and cost me someone precious. So right now, let's just focus on righting the wrongs we both have done." Grace agreed sadly, knowing it would be a long time before she had her husband back, but accepting this as the consequences for her bad decisions.
For you the night was going great! Everyone was suddenly friendly, and even Tommy had a warmth in his eyes at you that you hadn't seen in a long time. Grace had made a point of complimenting you and suddenly everyone wanted to talk to you. It made the night pleasant, but you weren't getting your hopes up. You'd built walls and they weren't coming down because suddenly people treated you like you were family again. You stuck around Ada and Finn.
While everyone had been having epiphanies and making plans to repair relationships today, you'd been doing some thinking of your own. Mostly thinking about how different your life might have looked had you had parents. They maybe would have loved you unconditionally. Maybe your relationship with your brothers, their wives, your aunt would have been better if they hadn't also had to help raise you. For so long, you hadn't felt you were missing anything because you had brothers, a sister, an aunt, and more recently a cousin and sisters-in-law that loved you ahd made you feel protected and like you belonged. As a child you'd had multiple people to go to for love, advice and help, it never occurred to you that that could all be taken away. Even during the war, the letters you got from your brothers and the presence of Finn, Ada and Aunt Polly had always kept you from feeling lonely. Now you knew that could be taken away and now you knew loneliness. Now you felt like the orphan you were.
Tommy was walking away from some duchess when he caught your eye and motioned you over. You went over hesitantly, hoping you weren't about to be chastised for something. As you walked up to him, he was in conversation with Grace about her necklace. Hoping to slip past them without being seen as everyone was moving into the banquet hall to eat, you suddenly heard someone yell out "For Angel!" with a gun in their hand. At once time slowed down and sped up and all you could think of was little Charlie losing his parents and becoming like you. Not even realizing you were moving, suddenly there was a sharp pain in your stomach and you were falling into another person.
Everything became chaos. Tommy was horror stricken as he held his baby sister's head in his lap while Grace was putting pressure on the wound. He yelled for someone to call an ambulance and kept trying to get your attention, because you were still breathing but staring at the ceiling like you could see someone there.
"Please, y/n, please look at me, stay with me, don't leave me" he begged, running a hand soothingly through your hair as tears streamed down his cheeks, all the while remembering years of time spent together, how you would climb into his bed after the war and just lay beside him when he'd have nightmares, grounding him and reminding him he was home, safe and warm, not in a tunnel, no enemy shovels around.
Grace had one hand putting pressure on your wound, the other holding your hand while she cried as well. She was horrified at what her behavior stole from you, while you had literally saved her life. Thinking back on the sweet little girl back when she was a barmaid, asking her to sing because her voice was "beautiful" Soon she was nudged roughly out of the way by John who took over putting pressure on your wound, tears streaming down his cheeks. His thoughts on the girl he used to throw in the air when she was little, her always trusting he'd catch her.
Arthur was beating the man who had fired the bullet, he couldn't make himself stop. All he could see was you in his arms as a baby, your finger wrapped in his and your eyes looking at him so trusting, and how much he'd let you down by not going against Tommy.
Polly was on the phone getting an ambulance, begging them to hurry, trying to keep herself calm as she remembered all the times when you were little and would hold out your arms, confident you'd get picked up and cuddled, she could almost feel the warmth of your head on her shoulder.
Ada was holding Finn, praying silently for her sister, most recently at an age where she was fun to shop with, try on clothes together, the girl who would confide in her because she trusted Ada's judgement and knew she was safe to be herself with her.
Michael stood at the door waiting for the ambulance, doing his best not to cry, thinking of his cousin who, even feeling alone and rejected by almost everyone, would listen as he spoke about his girlfriend, and who would joke around with him while doing homework.
Esme and Linda stood by Grace, quietly crying, both thinking of how welcoming and sweet you'd been when they were introduced to the family. Esme knowing no one and yet you immediately treated her like a sister, helping with the kids and softening some of Polly's harshness during the London expansion. Linda wishing she'd gotten to know you better, but remembering how you'd hugged her when she and Arthur got married and said how you knew she'd make him happy and help him find peace.
Regret and sorrow ran so powerfully through the large ballroom it felt like they were a physical presence.
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pacifymebby · 1 year ago
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t r o u b l e / Chapter Ten
a peaky blinders Modern AU balletcore story?
Chapter List
Previous Chapter (in case u missed it bc tumblr is being weird)
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John
"Don't like this John," hummed Esme where she sat in the bedroom window, her hair wild and long, trailing down her back her curls knotting down to her lower back, brushing over her bare thighs when she turned to look at me over her shoulder. She'd been up half the night with the baby and now that the littlen had finally settled down she was sitting alone watching the dark garden, wearing one of my tshirts, one which had been worn to death and had grown with her baby belly throughout her last pregnancy. She still wore it now, when it was late and she couldn't sleep. She'd taken to sitting in that window all through the night, starring out at the garden like a caged bird, smoking her cigarettes one by one.
"I know love," I sighed stepping up behind her, letting my hands hold her shoudlers, thumbs rubbing over the bones. "Won't be for long, we'll go back to the farm soon..."
"Thats what you say," she said turning back to the garden with the dark shadowy eyes of a girl. A girl pining. Which is what I knew she was. She was restless and she had been for a long time, long before this shit with the Italians. I'd been trying my best on the farm, trying to help her feel free, connected to the earth. I humoured her when she walked out in the garden barefoot, curling her toes into the muddy vegetable patches when it rained. I'd promised her we'd travel, that we'd pack up and take the kids with us, and I'd meant to keep that promise. But now there were other shadows looming over us, and not just over me and her but the whole family. And keeping my promise to Esme would mean betraying my brothers and sisters.
I couldn't even toy with the idea. Of course sometimes the way Tommy was made me want to say fuck it and leave, but the rest of them, no. I couldn't leave Ada and the twins. Couldnt abandon Arthur who needed the family to stay together more than any of us.
And even Tommy, at the end of the day, no matter how cruel he could be, how unfeeling, he was still my big brother. And he wasn't as selfish as he seemed, it just takes a lot to lead a family, especially one like ours. He was just doing his best to be the person steering our battered ship.
"We're never leaving here," Esme said, her voice low and dark and gloomy like the empty garden at night. That expanse of lawn, so tame. That wall of trees just that, a wall that hedged us all in. Marked out our bit of land and kept it ours. A perimeter that  Esme understood, kept her caged.
That was why she spent her evenings starring out at it with dark eyes and a heavy heart. Smoking her cigarettes. Making me feel all kinds of guilt and inadequacy.
"We will flower, just as soon as this is all over, gonna take you and the littlens far away," I said leaning over her, tilting her head right back so that i could kiss her from above. I meant it, in my heart when I said it I meant it but we were neither of us naive and so we both found ourselves looking out at the garden then, whistful and doomed.
This wasn't going to be over quickly. Might never be over at all.
The house was quiet but only just and only for now, the twins had gone to bed, too shaken up for my liking - and I felt guilty for that because I'd aided in the shaking - but Arthur hadn't returned with Ada and I knew that she had all the fight of little Sylvie and all the zeal of having grown up in a shithole like small heath. That is to say I knew she wouldn't be affraid to tell Tommy exactly what she thought of him. How much of a cunt she thought he was.
When our mother had died Tommy had stepped up for the girls because they were only small and suddenly left without a mother or a father to care for them. He'd tried to be that father figure to the best of his ability, which was limited because he'd never really had a sturdy father figure himself. As a result the girls had wound up with this fear of him, that fear only a father can instill. In healthy relationships its known as respect but theirs was a distant and troubled relationship and so fear was the only way of describing it. Ada hadn't had that, didn't fear him and probably wouldn't ever. So I knew that when she got here she'd do the shouting and the fighting for all three of them. Wouldn't give a fuck that it was 4 in the morning and the littluns were in bed, that I was in bed, only just managing to drift off. Would blame me for that, would tell me it straight.
"Ada will stay," said Esme then, "she's not stupid she knows whats at risk..."
"Yeah," I sighed, "its the girls ain't it," I said, "gonna be trouble..." I said and she smirked as if to say 'you don't know the half of it' but I did because every step of the way we'd done everything wrong. We'd sent them away, let them grow up wild in some far away city, in a boarding school that taught them how to lie and cheat their way to the top, taught them they could have everything they wanted if they were cut throat and selfish, if they thought only about where they were trying to go and took wild risks, pushed themselves too far.
And it was obvious looking at Sylvie, that the both of them had taken on board everything that theyd been taught. That they weren't affraid to push themselves too far, test their limits. That they didn't mind their own safety when it came to taking risks to get what they wanted.
And they'd take these risks because we'd always tried to keep them sheltered, always tried to keep them seperate. The twins had never seen their brothers with bullets in their chests, they'd never seen the men we'd snatched from wives and children. They didn't really know what we did with the bodies. They didn't know about the arms severed, the threats sent. They didn't know the things we'd done to our enemies, they thought our wars were all money and talk but they were usually always retaliation to meetings gone sour, deals fucked up, families we'd made the mistake of only half slaughtering.
And because they didn't know any of those things, then they could never really understand what they were risking, what our enemies would do to them, how they would be used, how they'd be tortured.
It wasn't even a year passed since our Aunt Pol had narrowly escaped death at the hands of the Changretta's. They'd had her neck in a noose, left her balanced on her tip toes for days, a sinister act of torture we were all certain had tipped her over the morbid edge she'd been teetering on for years. They'd told her they had all of us, tricked her into believing that whilst she stood their desperately trying to keep her balance, feeling the strain of the noose against her neck every time she faltered, that each of us was fighting for our lives in an equally painful way.
No one knew, not even her, how she'd actually managed to escape. But it hadn't been any of us who had cut her down. Tommy said she must have done it, must have worked out a way to cut the bonds on her hands, to sever the rope around her neck. Polly insisted that it hadn't been. That it had been the ghost of her mother, that now she'd spent several days with death hovering around her, waiting for her muscles to spazm and falter, she could see death all the time. That she could hear the voices of those past, that she could see their shadows lingering around the living.
And though it all seemed a little mellodramatic to me, seemded like rot to Arthur, I could tell Tommy empathised with the darkness. And we couldn't laugh her off because of what she'd gone through. The days of pain, her muscles sore to burning, her adrenaline savaging her body so that when she finally returned home she was a shell of her former self. Something changed behind her eyes.
That was the darkness our fens were risking every time they fought back against Tommy. If they disobeyed him, if we couldn't keep them here, safe with us, well, thered be no ghosts that came to save them.
"Sylvies got her brothers temper," said Esme, her strange impersonal judgements reminding me that they'd never really met. That the wedding had been the first and last time they'd seen one another. So it was all the more strange, all the more uncomfortable.
"Aye but which brother..." I smirked making her laugh, making her dark brooding eyes light up for a moment as she shook her head.
"Well," she let her smirk linger, her dimple etched into her expression so that she appeared impish in the pale nights light, "ain't arthurs is it..."
"Shes nothin like Tommy," I said shaking my head, refusing to believe that that could be true, refusing to believe that there was anything about my brother that could possibly have been passed onto little Sylvia who had always been so wild and sweet.
"They're like our mum," I said trying to reiterate my point. Trying to prove Esme's observation wrong, "I guess you wouldn't see that yknow," I shrugged turning away from the window, pulling my shirt over my head, knowing there was no point trying to get to sleep. Lying down anyway and asked her to lie down with me. For want of nothing else to do.
"Come on love, can't sit in that window all night you'll get cold..."
"What and I spose you're gonna keep me warm?" she asked turning with that clever little smirk, outsmarting me again.
"Aye," I said with a cheeky caught out grin of my own, "Somet like that aye..." I chuckled opening my arms out for her, letting her crawl across the bed to me, that too bed tshirt hanging from her soft curves as she moved feline and feminine over covers to come curl up in my arms.
I kissed her hair and let my hand trail over her thigh, fingers teasing a line up to the hem of her underwear. I knew how to ease her troubled mood, even now when her eyes were dark and I could see that she was worrying.
So we didn't get any sleep, and when Arthur returned with Ada and Karl, their voices ricochetting down the corridors, their disturbance caught me and Esme off guard. Her beanth me, her thighs trembling on each side of my neck as I ground my hips against her hips a little harder than before, burying myself deep inside her.
We'd been close when that front door had slammed and Karl had woken, started crying but the moment Ada's sharp words began tumbling vitriolic and shattering the silent house, we knew it was over.
"Fuck sake," whined Esme burying her face into my neck, clutching at me still, her body clinging tight to mine. She didn't want to let go and I didn't want to pull out and away from her but I knew that any second now Ada would be hammering her fist on that bedroom door demanding to drag me into the battle.
I laughed, let my grin linger because there was nothing else I could do. Just had to keep smirking through it and appreciate the humour of it all, forty fuckin one years old and still being cockblocked by my big sister.
So I accepted my fate, kissing Esme on the nose as I pulled out and she whimpered again. Smirking at her sweetness because it wasn't a side to her that came out very often. Had never been a side she liked to show. One it had taken me a long time to find hidden and secret beneath all those rough and wild layers of defense.
"To be continued," I said pecking her cheek, trailing teasing kisses down her body, leaving one between her legs that made her whine and then push me away, kicking at me playfully as she let out a dissatisfied sigh.
"Fuck sake John," she groaned as she pushed herself up and wrapped the covers around her. "I'm going to sleep, better not wake me up when you get back..." she threatened, her smouldering eyes teasing me, her sullen lips leaving me longing to kiss her again, push her buttons just a little more.
"Oh you'll be awake lass," I grinned, "Ada'll make sure of that..."
And Ada did make sure of that. She'd no patience because despite what he said, Arthur had done nothing to calm her on the journey home and even then, when I came stumbling into the corridor tugging my tshirt over my head, laughing at the drama of it all, Arthur was watching her despairing and nervous.
"Fuckin hell Ada some of us are tryna sleep here, its 4 in the fuckin mornin..." I said still chuckling, knowimg that I was risking her temper and carrying on anyway. I was her little brother afterall, I could get away with it if I tried.
"Perhaps you'd be having an easier night if you didn't always bend over backwards to accommodate our canniving pig of a brother," she said sharply, standing in the hallway lit up by the the little light coming in through the front door and the windows in the cieling.
She looked pale as a ghost and just as cold and I didn't know what to say to her because she wasn't wrong. Wasn't right either. I wouldn't have had an easier night because Tommy would have killed me and then he'd have sent someone else, someone like Isaiah, and then my ghost would have been haunting the halls all eternity with the guilt of having left my little sisters in the hands of someone else.
It wasn't that I wouldn't have trusted Isaiah with my sisters, it was that really when it came down to it, I didn't trust anyone with them. Not even my brothers. Not to do things right anyway.
If Arthur had gone for them he'd have lost his temper because he'd have been scared, because he'd have been paranoid that they didn't respect him, because he'd have been angry at himself for not being able to do as Tommy had asked. For not being the kind of brother his little baby sisters would trust.
If Tommy had gone, then the speech which had brought Sonya to petrified tears in the office that night, would have been given much sooner, with no care for the audience, no care for who was watching, recording or making notes. He'd have lost his temper because he'd have realised they only feared him, didn't respect him. And they were more delicate than either of them liked to let on. Sonya and Sylvia had always been a little less Shelby like our father. Much more like their mother than anyone wanted to admit.
I had noticed it in Sylvia straight away. The thin quality, that washed out pale tone, the greyish brown which shadowed her eyes, which lingered and left her looking tired. Sonya had hidden it better but I'd still seen it there. They were both just so much smaller than they should have been but I knew that if I mentioned it to my brothers they'd tell me I worried too much, that they were tougher than I gave them credit for.
"Ada love come on now eh its late, you'll wake the twins..." said Arthur, all sheepish and tired, one hand on the back of his neck, his features flushed, embarassed to be approaching 50 and still unable to quell his sisters temper. If there was one thing you could say about Ada it was that she'd always been the one to put us in our place. Humble us when we let our position and our reputation get to our heads.
"You care for their wellbeing so much then why in gods name would you drag em back to this fuckin place?" and then she sighed and shook her head, "fuckin go to bed arthur it aint you I need to speak to..."
"Tommys in his..." I trailed off when my eyes met my brothers down the hall, he was walking slowly, a shadow approaching, a cigarette unlit hanging between his lips.
"Ada love," he said making her jump but doing nothing to hush her or shake her determination. "Good to see you made it up safe an sound..." and when I saw his patronising little smile I resigned myself to a sleepless night and a long morning of achey heads and sore throats. Tension bristling.
It was exactly what we got, but not what we didn't deserve.
🔪🦢
"She won't forgive you you know..." said Polly the next morning when it was only myself and her left in the dining room.
Sylvie had left with an angry static buzzing all about her, Tommy had sent her to fetch Sonya and, in his usual tactless charm, had said something so patronising that I was surprised our Fen hadn't torn his head from his neck right in front of us.
"No," I said with a sad smirk, "Fens right, gonna fuck Sonyas whole career up ain't it, poor lass must fuckin hate us..." but when I said it Pol just chuckled and shook her head.
"I wasn't talking about Sonya," she said lighting up her cigarette and drawing in a long leisurely inhale, "Sonya knows she can't go back, I don't even think she's going to put up a fight..."
"Its Sonya who's losing her job not Sylvia," I shrugged a little confused, not understanding when Polly laughed.
"Ha," she said, "stupid lads the lot of you..." she turned her head from me, looking across the dining room and out the window at the gardens where the mist was just beginning to thin.
"What?" I couldn't keep the confusion off my face despite wanting to hide it, I hated it when she made me feel stupid like that, perhaps I deserved it, perhaps I was as daft as she said. Even so I didn't like the fact being highlighted so bluntly.
"Since their mother died those two girls have had only eachother... Their big brothers weren't there were they? In London? Learnt to look after one another didn't they..."
It was painful to hear it from her, our Aunt Pol who has always been the matriarch, the one who looked after us all, the one we all looked up to. She it was painful to hear her tell it so straight, how we'd let them down. How we'd abandoned them. Left two little girls down south on their own, fending for themselves among strangers.
"I should never have let him do that," said Polly then, her voice as dark and gravelly as her eyes, that harsh kind of doom lingering around her like a shadow. One of those auras she claimed to be able to see around people these days.
"When our Tom puts his mind to somet..." I started only to trail off, only to remember that none of us had really fought against it, "we all believed it was for the best..."
"Fools," murmured Pol sucking in another drag on her cigarette, watching the cloud of smoke linger and then disperse just in front of her, "the lot of us."
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