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writingwithacupoftea · 4 years ago

Text

Poison

Summary: When Y/N Shelby arrives back from a meeting with some potential business partners, her brothers, Tommy, notices that something isn’t quite right with her. Hours later, the family are crowded around her bedside, while she lies on the brink of death.

Word Count: 3350 (ooh, that’s satisfying)

Trigger Warnings: vomiting and just generally being ill

A/N: My stubborn arse finally managed to finish this fic (even though I edited as little as possible so it’s quite long)!! Hope you like it 💜💜

The Shelby and Gray families were not ones for quiet - they brought chaos and noise with them wherever they went. But now, not a single member of the family could bring themselves to speak, the doctor's parting words circling around in their heads:

"It's not looking good, I'm afraid. If she wakes in the morning, then I think we can say that things are looking up. But I can't promise you that she will."

Tommy couldn't decide if the silence was a blessing or curse. He was beyond grateful not to have his younger sister's screams of agony echoing down the halls of Arrow House any more, but it seemed so unnatural: Y/N wasn't the loudest of the Shelby clan, but she was always there with a sarcastic quip, witty comeback, or words of comfort that none of her other siblings could ever quite get right.

Her brothers often said that she was the future of Shelby Company Limited - Y/N had a vision and was determined to see it through with Tommy's help, for even though they disagreed frequently, he couldn't deny that her ideas could be the making of the business in the modern world. Tommy was beyond proud of the woman that he raised after their bastard of a father left them. Yes, Arthur, John and Ada had helped him and Polly with raising their sister – but no one could deny that Tommy loved Y/N in a way that none of the others ever could.

Now, he and his brother were crowded around her bedside, helpless, wondering how they could have let this happen.

The doctor suspected poison, and although he couldn't be sure which poison it was, Tommy knew exactly who had given it to his sister and let the guilt consume him.

***

Earlier that day...

"Tommy, do I seriously have to meet them by myself?" Y/N asked as she marched into her brother's office (without knocking, of course).

"I've told you, Y/N/N, I've got a meeting of my own to go to and I don't trust Arthur and John not to fuck things up even if you are there."

She was meant to be having lunch with some potential business partners from America, but despite Tommy's reassurances that this deal would be of benefit for their future plans for the company, Y/N had a feeling that something wasn't right about them. When she'd mentioned her suspicions that the associates may not be as friendly as they appear, Tommy brushed her concerns aside as Polly raged on at him ("Thomas you're a fool if you don't listen to your sister now – it's her gypsy instinct and it's never wrong.")

But still, Tommy insisted on going through with it. He wasn't backing down now.

~ ~ ~

When Y/N returned later that afternoon, Tommy watched in silence as she slumped down at her desk and put her head in her hands.

"That bad was it, eh?" Tommy questioned, jokingly.

"My head's pounding, Tom, don't fucking wind me up."

Arthur, who had heard the exchange, walked up to her, slamming a pile of work onto her desk. "Is our little Y/N becoming a lightweight?"

"Oh, piss off Arthur," the firmness in her voice surprising him, considering that she didn't lift her head up.

Luckily, Arthur took that as his cue to leave, but not before sending an amused look at Tommy, one that was not reciprocated. Instead, the second eldest brother furrowed his brows, all of his attention focused on his little sister, concern beginning to bubble inside of him. Not wanting to start any arguments, however, he simply settled with saying "We'll leave at about five o'clock if you're still feeling like shit, yeah? I just need to finish this first."

Y/N laughed, humourlessly, and gestured towards her newly acquired work. "I've got plenty to keep me busy, Tommy, don't worry."

"You know if you're really feeling -"

"No, Thomas." His sister cut him off abruptly. "I'm fine to work, it's just a headache. It'll go before I know it."

With that, she began reading the first document that Arthur had given to her, actively avoiding Tommy's eye.

~ ~ ~

A couple of hours later and Tommy, having been so consumed with his work, realised that he hadn't heard a peep from Y/N since she started working.

Looking up, he immediately became aware that Y/N still wasn't back to her usual self. To anyone else, she simply looked hard at work, furiously making notes as she waded through her paperwork; but Tommy could see her discomfort from a mile off. The hand subconsciously rubbing her stomach, the occasional wince in pain, the fingers on her other hand massaging her temples.

Y/N didn't seem to notice anything as Tommy made his way past her desk to speak to John and Arthur. "Has she said anything to either of you?"

"Nah," Arthur replied, casually. "I didn't think I pissed her off that badly earlier though, so I don't know why. She just keeps ignoring everyone and won't fucking sit still."

This did absolutely nothing to qualm Tommy's worries.

John piped up, tentatively: "You don't think it's...you know?"

"No, I don't, John. So spit it out."

John lowered his voice to a whisper, glancing slightly over his shoulder to make sure that Y/N wasn't listening. "You don't think it's that time of the month, do you? She always get a bit cranky, doesn't she."

Tommy cleared his throat as Arthur looked at the ground awkwardly. "Yeah, he's got a point, Tom. Best not to ask any questions."

"Right." Tommy paused, before making his way back to his office.

He mulled over his brothers' words. It was a reasonable explanation for her behaviour, but something just didn't sit right with it for Tommy. Y/N had always lived with him and over time he had developed an instinct for when that time of the month was meant to be, and this didn't fit the usual pattern.

Lost in his thoughts as he packed up his things, Tommy was taken by surprise when Y/N appeared in the doorway, a smile plastered on her face. "You ready to go, Tom?"

If Tommy had looked a bit closer, he would've seen that the smile was just a bit too bright to be genuine. He would've seen that it didn't quite reach her eyes, which looked tired and pained in themselves. But, in an unusual move for Thomas Shelby, his shock at seeing such a drastic change in his sister overtook everything else.

As they drove back to Arrow House, the sun beginning to set in the distance, Tommy thought to himself 'Maybe John and Arthur were right, for once. I'm just worrying too much.'

Upon their arrival home, the siblings' usual routine began: Y/N made her way up to her room, whilst Tommy headed straight for his study to carry on working after greeting Grace and Charlie.

And so, the evening began as a fairly typical one...but Tommy would never forget that night for the rest of his life.

~ ~ ~

At 7 o'clock each night, either Y/N or Grace would barge into Tommy's study to drag him to dinner (otherwise they thought that he'd never eat). In actual fact, Tommy always knew when dinner was going to be, but he enjoyed their visits to come and fetch him – for once, Thomas Shelby enjoyed being looked after.

Grace had left for the weekend to spend some time with friends, and so when 7 o'clock came and went without Tommy being disturbed by his sister, he began to worry. Remembering her headaches and discomfort in the office, he came to the quick conclusion that she must have fallen asleep and made his way upstairs to go and wake her.

Call it his instinct as her older brother, but Tommy just knew that something was off as he stood outside Y/N's bedroom. Opening the door and peering around it, he froze at the sight before him: his sister, collapsed on her bed, sweating profusely and mumbling incoherently to herself. Tommy rushed over, panic eclipsing him, "Y/N?"

As he brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face, Tommy felt the heat radiating from her. Having nursed his sister through many an illness during her lifetime, and therefore knowing exactly what to do (or so he hoped, for Tommy had never seen her quite this bad before), he jogged down the hallway to fetch a bowl of lukewarm water and a cloth from the bathroom.

But Tommy's plans to nurse his sister through the night himself were put to an abrupt end upon his return. Y/N was curled up in a tight ball, arms wrapped around her stomach as she groaned and grunted in pain, vomiting violently over the side of her bed.

"Mary, call the doctor NOW!" Tommy yelled over his shoulder before dashing to sit next to his sister on the bed, dampening the cloth and dabbing it to her forehead. "Y/N? Y/N, speak to me, love, what's wrong?"

Still he got no response. Y/N didn't even give any indication that she knew that he was there. Her moans of pain simply got louder and more agitated and Tommy couldn't bear it. He had always done everything that he could (and more) to keep any pain far, far away from his sister, and when it couldn't be prevented Tommy would stop at nothing to make things better for her. Even when she was a baby, and their mother was still alive, no one could separate Tommy from Y/N's side when she was sick or injured – he didn't trust that others wouldn't cause her to suffer further, and so Y/N remained under his watchful eye until she was back to full strength (and even then he was wary for a week or so afterwards).

So, for Tommy, seeing his beloved sister writhing in pain, not knowing what was wrong or how he could help, was complete and utter torture for him.

~ ~ ~

When Mary arrived upstairs to inform her employer that the doctor would arrive within ten minutes, she barely recognised him: hair messy, hands shaking and muttering tender words of comfort, the Thomas Shelby in front of her was far from the controlled man that she had become accustomed to dealing with. But the thing that shocked her the most came when the man looked up at her. Whilst the blue of his eyes had become less icy since his marriage and the birth of his son, these eyes were wild, frantic and displayed a boyish vulnerability that Mary had never even imagined. They were glazed with unshed tears, and yet this barrier did nothing to hide the whirlwind of emotions that were communicated through them. The overarching message that they conveyed was as clear as day: Thomas Shelby was frightened.

The man's voice, thick with emotion despite his attempts to compose himself, snapped her away from her thoughts. "Call the rest of the family. Explain what's happening. Tell them that they need get here as quickly as possible. Then see to it that Charlie's looked after for the night. I'll be staying here."

"Yes, Mr Shelby. Shall I send everyone straight up here?"

Tommy simply nodded, his attention already devoted to his sister once more.

~ ~ ~

The minutes that followed this interaction would forever haunt Tommy's memory.

Whilst Y/N appeared to have stopped being sick, her cries of pain continued to escalate, both in frequency and in volume. Each one pierced through Tommy like a dagger straight to his heart. He knew that nothing he was doing was helping her, and that the situation was completely out of his control, and Tommy hated it. His brain became like a cage, trapping him in his tormenting thoughts: 'You should have done something sooner...you've failed her...how can you ever claim to be a good brother again when you can't even ease her pain...this is your punishment...it's your fault...it's all your fault.'

Tommy clutched onto Y/N's hand like a lifeline, mopping her brow as sweat continued to spill from every pore and her groans became screams tearing from her throat.

Just when he thought that things couldn't get any worse, the convulsions began

Sheer terror consumed Tommy as he watched Y/N's body jerk violently on the bed. Silent tears cascaded down his face as he sat there, completely helpless, trying not to breakdown himself. That was the last thing that Y/N needed. He knew that he should call Mary or one of the maids, but he couldn't bear to leave Y/N's side to do so. He felt almost paralysed with fear, the only movement he made being the kisses that he placed repeatedly to her knuckles in between his pleas of "You're going to be alright, sweetheart...I'm here...I love you..."

The doctor came rushing in just as the convulsions were dying down, and immediately shooed Tommy away. Had the circumstances been any different, Tommy would have questioned the tone that the doctor took with Tommy – no one dismissed Tommy Shelby like that (except for Aunt Polly). But the Shelby man didn't even register it in his desperation for his sister to be looked at, so that he knew what to do to help her. He just needed to do something to make things better for her.

Standing outside Y/N's bedroom door, he heard the low rumble of his family's voices. Going against every one of his instincts to stay in position outside of Y/N's room, he ran down the stairs to see his family.

John, Arthur, Ada, Finn, Michael and Polly, like Mary, were shocked by the version of Tommy that appeared before them. From this alone, they knew that things were bad. Despite Tommy's explanations, the sight of Y/N lying weakly in her bed took them by surprise. Y/N always seemed so strong and full of life, the light of the family, and the realisation struck everyone that they may be plunged into darkness in the next few hours.

***

"It's not looking good, I'm afraid. If she wakes in the morning, then I think we can say that things are looking up. But I can't promise you that she will."

The silence left behind in the room after the doctor's departure was deafening. He had given Y/N some injections of fuck knows what to stop the convulsions and ease her pain, but he didn't know what else to do. He'd never dealt with anything like this before.

All the family could do was wait.

After some time to process the doctor's warning, each member slowly began to unfreeze, or so it seemed. Polly disappeared to the kitchen to make tea and sort out some food, although no one felt like eating. John called Esme, and afterwards Arthur rang Linda, informing their wives that they wouldn't be back at home until at least tomorrow – they couldn't leave their sister. Michael ventured down the corridor to fetch some more chairs. Ada went to tend to Charlie, and Finn went with her, sent with the task of updating Mary and telling her to go to bed.

That left Tommy. Tommy, who couldn't believe what was happening. Tommy, who knew that, despite his new family with Grace, he couldn't cope without Y/N.

Tiredly, the second eldest of the Shelby clan moved to reposition himself next to Y/N on her bed, holding her small hand in his and observing the baby hairs which fell delicately in front of her face. She would always be his little girl, no matter how old and grey and feisty she became, and nothing would change that. He refused to let anything take her away from him before they reached that point, not even poison.

As he mulled this all over in his head, remarking to himself how much she'd grown up yet how little she'd changed, Finn came back into the room. Breaking the silence, the youngest brother tentatively asked "Will she be alright?"

When Tommy looked up at his younger brother, he realised that he wasn't the only one who was scared. Truthfully, Tommy hated not being able to give a straight answer, and simply replied "She's a fighter, Finn."

God knows, they all hoped that she wouldn't stop fighting now.

***

Hours dragged on like days. The slow rising of the early morning sun taunted Tommy. The brighter it became in that room, the more the chance of Y/N waking up again slipped through his fingers.

He was the only one who stayed awake for the entire night, despite Ada's pleas for him to rest and Polly's snaps of "You're going to be no use to her if you're dead on your feet." Even the occasional drooping of his eyelids couldn't persuade him to relent. Because he knew that the minute he gave into that temptation, something would happen and Tommy couldn't risk missing anything.

Part of him had stayed awake in case Y/N needed anything or got worse; part of him stayed awake in case she herself woke up (he didn't want her being alone); and the final part of him, the part of Tommy that was shit scared of what was going to happen, wanted to spend every single moment with his little sister. Because he didn't know if one of them was going to be her last on this Earth.

Arthur and John woke up in the chairs next to Y/N's bed, and gradually the rest of the family came to join them.

Polly was the first to speak. "Has there been any change?"

Tommy didn't trust himself to say the words out loud, so responded by shaking his head and placing a kiss to the back of Y/N's hand, which he hadn't relinquished his hold on.

Whilst her skin was clammy to the touch, she was no longer sweating like before. Her breathing had evened out and the expression of discomfort that had marred her face had melted away: Y/N looked peaceful. To Polly and the rest of the family, this was a good sign, an indication that she was getting better. However, the thought lingered that this would make it easier for her to slip away undetected.

This was the most terrifying idea.

The morning continued to pass by: 9 o'clock, 10 o'clock, 11 o'clock...still nothing.

Everyone was becoming more and more agitated, the ticking of the clock doing nothing to ease the tension. Tommy had finally moved, deciding to pace up and down the limited space left in the room instead. Occasionally, someone would walk over to the window or run downstairs to get a new book. But still they waited, each member of the family united in their hope that Y/N would wake soon.

When the clock struck midday, that hope began to fade, even though no one would say it out loud; it could just be felt in the atmosphere.

However, when no one was looking, Y/N's eyes slowly crept open, squinting as the bright sunlight beamed through the window. Once her eyes had adjusted, she observed her family positioned around her room and noted the peace and quiet, even if Y/N could tell that it was tense. Internally, she sighed to herself 'No fucking fighting, at last.'

Her voice was croaky as she said quietly "How long are you guys gonna hover round my bed like a bunch of creepers, eh?"

The relief was immediate. As Arthur and John roared in excitement, shouting "SHE'S ONLY GONE AND FUCKING DONE IT," Tommy raced over and rested a hand on her cheek tenderly, their tired eyes meeting for the first time in hours. His eyes spoke of admiration and disbelief, whilst hers held only adoration for her big brother. Tommy placed a kiss to her forehead, and let a couple more tears fall.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, Tom." Y/N smiled softly. "Thank you for staying with me, I knew you were there the entire time."

"As if I could ever leave you, eh."

"Or I you, Tom."

And that was the simple and honest truth.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #peaky blinders imagine #shelby sis #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine

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psycheswritings · 5 years ago

Text

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Ten

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War

Fandom: Peaky Blinders

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, a little angst, mentions of death and war, a very litght hint at sex and Grace (because I thought that I should warn you about her).

Word Count: 5577

Author’s Note: Here we are, back with another chapter of Thomas and Daphne's story. The information that I will list bellow can be interpreted as spoilers for some things mentioned in this chapter, so if you want to skip it, you can come back and read it later.

1. The Queen Alexandra's Royal Army Nursing Corps really exists but I changed some information for the sake of the plot, like they accepting someone so young in the ranks, because from what I found the recruiting age was 25 at the time. 2. The medals received by Daphne are all real too and, same thing as the item above, I changed things a little and I'm not an expert on this things. 3. If you want to read more about these things, let me know, I have some links from my research.

That's it. As always, thanks for not abandoning me. If you find any mistakes feel free to report it back to me. Tags are at the end of the post and if you want to be added, let me know. Your feedback is also highly appreciated. Happy reading.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Tommy meets Grace and they rekindle some old feelings, in the meantime, Daphne goes visit Arthur on the prison. The blue eyed gangster decides to read Daphne's file and discovers some very important information about her. William goes talk to Daphne and she reveals to him that she is feeling lost.

Ten

True to her word, Daphne was at the bakery the next day bright and early. She ignored the glances from the men and headed straight to her office only to find Alfie there, sitting on her chair, waiting for her. Taking a deep breath she closed the door behind her, knowing that delaying the inevitable wouldn’t bring them any good. He didn’t said anything, just stood up, walking to the window and staring out as she took off her gloves, coat and hat, putting them away before getting comfortable on the chair.

“Harriet talked to you?” She wasn’t expecting an apology - Daphne knew better than anyone that apologizing wasn’t his thing and she was pretty sure that Alfie didn’t regret what he had done.

“Yes, she did.” He murmured something that she didn't recognized and it was as if they didn’t wanted to acknowledge each other, like they were miles apart instead of just a few meters. Alfie turned to face her, there were bags under his eyes, a bruise on his cheek and he seemed tired. Good, she thought, at least he was having as much trouble as she was.

“I don’t regret what I’ve done.”

“I know.”

“But I regret the things I said.” He averted his eyes from her, almost as if trying to avoid her stare. She didn’t answer and that made him a little anxious, enough to make him look at her again.

“I know.” Alfie hummed, arms crossed in front of his chest, looking more vulnerable than she had seen in years.

“Are you coming home?” He knew, deep down, that he was asking too much of her in such a short notice but the house seemed strange without her and Alfie hated to admit that since they came back from France he wasn’t used to be alone anymore.

“No.” Sensing that he wanted to argue with her, she silenced him with a wave of her hand. There was a long pause where neither of them said nothing, they didn’t even looked at each other, then Daphne took a deep breath, lifting her gaze to met his eyes. “Since we met each other in France I haven’t really noticed how much I have become dependant on you. How much I have changed and ignored things because I didn’t want to lose you.”

His eyes widened at her confession and he took a step forward, towards the desk. They never talked much about their relationship, since the beginning it was an easy arrangement to slip in - they worked well together, just like he had worked well with Benjamin, they respected each other and with time they had built a beautiful friendship. More than that, Daphne was family, more than the few ones whom he shared blood with. Nonetheless it was foreign for him to hear her acknowledged it like that.

“And I haven't noticed until now that I’ve lost myself in the process.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you made me realize that I don’t know who I am anymore. This is one of the reasons why I can’t go home. I think we need to be away from each other for a while, Alfie.” As expected, his reaction wasn’t all that good.

“Why? I swear I will give you all the space that you want, you don’t even have to talk to me…” She noticed the desperation on his voice and she would be lying if she said that she really wanted to go home.

“That’s the thing, Alfie. If I go back I know we will just brush it off after a week, maybe less than that. I can’t let that happen, not again.”

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After Esme left with John, Tommy walked to Charles's yard, trying to keep his thoughts in order. But everytime he thought about meeting Grace, his brain seemed to find a way to remind him of Daphne and once more his aunt’s words echoed inside his head, like in the time he had gone to see May: ‘She will have her heart broken by the man that she loves… Will you be that man, Tommy?’.

When he arrived at the stables, Curly was there shoveling sit. So he took his coat off, putting it aside and picking up one of the rakes that rested against the wall.

“What are you doing, Tommy?” Curly asked him when he started shoveling.

“Shovelling shit, Curly. Just like you.”

“And why are you doing that, Tommy?” The man asked again, confused, still observing him.

“To remind myself of what I'd be if I wasn't who I am.” The both of them worked together for some minutes until Charles appeared on the door. He observed the pair for some time and then asked.

“Tommy? What's going on?”

“I think Tommy's lost his mind, Charlie!” Curly said, laughing, just before Tommy stopped and handed the rake to Charlie.

“Well, it's honest work, Curly but I don't want to get used to it, so I'll need six cans of petrol. Bring them to the garage, put them in the back of the car.” He said as he put his coat and hat back, patting Curly on the back on his way out, ignoring his uncle shouting behind him and trying to convince himself that this meeting was business, nothing else.

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James had just left when he heard the knock on the front door. Tommy took a deep breath before opening it. She was different from what he remembered - hair shorter, expensive clothes and jewelry - but at the same time there was something still familiar to him.

“Tommy.”

“Grace.” He stepped back, making room for her to enter. He helped her with her coat and guided her to the living room.

“Is this your house?” She asked as he closed the door behind them, fingers nervously playing with her clutch.

“Yes. Have a seat.” He passed by her, taking away the cushion resting on the armchair before he sat down, finding her sitting opposite him.

“Do I not get a drink?”

“Please.” He pointed to where the drinks were, on a table nearby, not giving her much attention as he took out a cigarette from the case, placing it between his lips.

“You want one?” Grace offered as she got up.

“Yes.”

“Still whisky?”

“Yes.” She poured two glasses as he struck the match to light the cigarette.

“But other things have changed. I saw vans with your name on at the docks.”

“Yes, some things have changed.” Tommy tried not to think about how much things have changed. How things were definitely not the same as they were when she left for America. Grace walked to him, giving him the glas and lingering for a moment. When he didn’t make a move or said a word, she resigned herself to sit on the couch, closer to him than she was before.

“Tommy, I really wasn't sure about coming tonight…” She was looking at him but he was staring at the door, just behind her.

“I lit a fire in the bedroom upstairs.” He inhales and exhales loudly. “My plan was that we sit here for awhile and talk about old times, drink some whisky. And I was going to tell you I hadn't spent a day without thinking about you. And then we were going to go upstairs and sleep together. But just now, on the way to opening the door, I changed my mind. So just have one drink, tell me how happy you are in New York and then you can go.” It wasn’t entirely true but it wasn’t a lie either. He had thought about her on most days during the past two years and he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t felt nothing when he saw her there at the door. Yet, it would also be a lie to say that she was the only one on his mind right now - as she hadn’t been for the past few months.

“You changed your mind?” Her tone was almost surprised.

“Mmm. So you can go.”

“As a matter of fact, I am happy in New York. And I am married.” He had predicted that - the defensive act she would put, trying to sound offended as if she hadn’t being writing to him all this time, even when he hadn't’ answered her, even after she married. In the end, it just seemed like she was trying to convince herself more than him.

“Oh, yeah, he's rich, I know.”

“And he's sweet and he's kind to me, so what makes you think that I would have gone to bed with you after one whisky and some conversation?”

“I was accounting for three whiskies.”

“How dare you?” In her defense, she really tried to seem bothered by his behavior, even though she had know him well enough in the past to know how he dealt with things.

“Doesn't matter now, because I've changed my mind.”

“I came here because you asked me.”

“Even though he's sweet and he's kind to you?”

“And now I feel like an idiot.”

“Well, then go.”

“Jesus.” She didn’t made a move to get up or to leave and he waited for a moment before speaking again.

“But you're still here.”

“Are you so certain?” She challenged, looking at him again.

“That you're still in love with me?” He paused before continuing. “I was, but I'm not any more.” There was another moment of silence before he asked her. “You're not armed, Grace, are you?”

“No, I'm not armed. I don't carry guns. I don't have to.” The blond spat the words at him like venom.

“You don't have a sense of humour anymore, either.”

“What are you talking about?” The woman looked at him, confused, then Tommy lift his arms in a mock surrender, before going to sit beside her on the couch.

“Thing is, I hate reunions. I didn't want to sit here for hours talking about nothing and dancing around what we really want to say. So now I know you're happy in New York. I know your husband's rich and sweet and kind to you. I know you're unarmed and you didn't come here for sex, because you don't love me anymore. And it's only three minutes past.” The way she looks at him says everything he needs to know. “Another drink?” He gets up and she doesn’t say anything. “I'll take that as a yes.” Tommy takes the bottle from the table and turns to face her. “It's good to see you, Grace.”

“So you didn't light the fire?” He ignores her question as she follows his movements with her eyes, expectantly, and Tommy takes a sit on the armchair again.

“You see, my real plan was that we go out. I want to impress you. Now, do you like Charlie Chaplin?”

“Yes, I like Charlie Chaplin.” Grace says, smiling.

“Good. But I bet you've never heard Charlie Chaplin speak.” He takes her to the party where Chaplin is promoting his film, introduces her to him and takes his leave to phone Campbell.

“Hello, Mr Campbell. You said you knew my sister's address in Primrose Hill. So I expect you have men watching the house, to see who comes and goes. Well, tonight, your men will see me return to the house with a very beautiful woman. She will stay until just before midnight. Course, I'll close the curtains. Can you guess who the woman is?”

“Liar!” The Irishman says from the other end of the line.

“Sleep well, Mr Campbell.”

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When they come back to the house and he kisses her, she does little to fight him, giving in to him quite easily.

“Tommy. Tommy, do you have someone?” He doesn’t answer her but his mind wanders, bringing back memories of things that happened in the kitchen of this same house. “It's too late, Tommy.”

“It's 11, Grace.” They keep kissing as they talk. He knows Campbell’s man had seen them arrive, so he probably knew by know that the woman who was with Tommy was Grace, indeed.

“I mean, it's too late. If you'd come with me to New York…”

“I had things to do.”

“You mean the coin landed the wrong way?” Always with the questions. He stopped, looking at her before speaking.

“It couldn't have worked. What was the question?” Tommy leaned in, kissing her again and she asked him one more time when they parted.

“Tommy, do you have someone?”

“I have a race horse. She's going to win the Derby.” Grace seemed satisfied with his answer as she kissed him again when in truth she didn’t truly understood the meaning of his words.

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“When do you sail back?” He asks her as they dress themselves afterwards.

“We don't know yet.”

“You don't have a return ticket?” Tommy is confused at her answer.

“This wasn't right, Tommy.” Again, it seems like she is trying to convince herself of her own words.

“When do you go back, Grace?”

“They're doing tests on us. I don't know when they'll be finished. We're having treatment. A doctor in Harley Street. Some new thing. A breakthrough. We're trying for a baby.” He looks at the couch, weighs the information for a moment, then looks back at her.

“Why did you come here tonight?”

“The doctor believes it's surely me who's at fault.” She defends herself and he feels bad for her for a moment, still unsure of what to think about it.

“I am sorry. It is no-one's fault.”

“I'm tired of that.”

“You're still working under cover, eh?” She slaps him across the face before saying.

“I've never lied to him once.”

“Well, you’re not telling him the truth either.”

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There are some things that come together with the job when you work with a gangster, Daphne learned that in her first year in London, right after the war, when she was still getting the hang of it. One of them was that her name not only opened some doors - and closed others - but some people feared it to. It was hard to say if this was due to what she could do or if it was because of Alfie’s protectiveness.

However, the Jew never had a good relationship with the police and Daphne knew that she was only standing here right now because of the influence of her grandfather’s surname. They opened the door to the cell and she braced herself for the confront. The police officer led her inside, staying a step in front of her, weary about the prisoner’s behavior. Arthur looked up at her and laughed, sarcastically.

“You’re here to see the job done, love?” He didn’t moved from the cot he was currently sitting on. One of the other guards brought a chair for her and moved to put handcuffs on the eldest Shelby.

“There is no need for that. I’m sure that Arthur is not going to hurt me.” The two policeman looked at her and then at each other, doubtfully, while she looked at the Shelby brother, who was staring at the wall. He had blood on his face and clothes, probably from being beaten both in the jail. “If something happens you can say it was on me.” They nodded, still unsure, but left her alone with the Shelby anyway, knowing that whatever fate was waiting for them, the better thing to do was not to mess with her. Daphne sat on the chair, crossing her legs and resting her intertwined hands on her lap. After a moment, Arthur looked up at her but didn’t say anything.

“I know I’m probably not your favorite person at the moment but…”

“That’s an understatement, love.” She sighed, feeling defeated, and then he continued. “But you’re the first that bothered to come here, so I’m willing to let you talk just the see something different for a moment.” Daphne nodded, taking a deep breath - it was a beginning, at least.

“I’m sorry about what happened.” He stared at her, analyzing her apology.

“You didn’t knew, then.” It wasn’t a question but the woman felt the need to clarify some things anyway.

“No. Alfie didn’t tell me anything.” Arthur hummed in acknowledgment, looking at the light coming from between the bars on the small window and then at her.

“Because of Tommy.” The surprise on her face made him laugh. “Oh, love. People think that my brother is the most intelligent on the family, and they are right in doing so, but I’m not that stupid either. I see the way he looks at you.” She said nothing to the observation and silence filled the cell for a moment to long.

“It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Doesn’t it?” Arthur looked at her then and the woman felt trapped in his gaze. “Then why are you here?”

“I want to help get you out of here.” He tried to conceal the surprise on his face but did a terrible job at it. “I’m talking to a few people, asking for some favours…”

“It isn’t easier to try and convince that Jewish bastard to change his version of the facts?” Daphne took a deep breath before answering.

“We’re not exactly into talking terms.” Arthur kept quiet, just staring at her for a moment and she didn’t even notice that in the meantime her fingers had automatically searched for the locket hanging from her neck. The gesture so ingrained in her behavior that she only realized she was playing with it when Arthur pointed it out.

“What’s so important about this necklace of yours?” His face filled with curiosity as he points his finger in the direction of her chest. She looks down and sighs, weighing her options. Then she takes the necklace off, her thumb brushing the locket one more time before piling it up on her palm and extending it for the man to take. Arthur reaches for the jewelry after a moment of hesitation, looking up at her before opening it.

He recognizes the young girl on the photograph - there’s no mistaking it when her older version is right in front of him - but is the boy who catches his attention.

“This is Benjamim.” She pauses and Arthur notices the pain in her tone. The eldest Shelby rearranges himself in the cot, sitting at the edge of it, closer to her, the jewelry still on his hands. “He was my brother.” His eyes search for hers and his expression softens a little.

“France?”

“Yeah.” Daphne thinks for a moment about what to say next. It’s been a while since she talked about this with somebody. “He died in an ambush, I never had the chance to say goodbye to him.”

“You were there too, weren’t you?”

“Yes. Military nurse.” Arthur seemed a little surprised at the information, even knowing that she had medical training.

“Weren’t you a little younger to be in the ranks at the time?” She smiled at the concern in his voice, remembering that Polly had done something similar.

“I lied on the registry, they overlook it because there were not that much people with proper training.” Daphne remembers the day they took the photograph, the way he looked in his uniform and how she would give anything to see him at least one more time. It was a strange feeling, because it not a day had passed by without her thinking about him, but talking about it wasn’t any less difficult despite the years. They stayed in silence for a long time, then he approached her, taking her hand in his and placing the necklace back into her palm.

“You are too good to that Jewish bastard.” She opened her mouth to protest but was silenced by the words he said next. “And to my brother.”

“Arthur…”

“But maybe you’re just what they need, eh.” He stared at her for a moment, still holding her hand. “Don’t worry too much about me, love, I think you already have much on your mind. Just be careful.” They heard the guards approaching the door and Arthur sat back on the cot. “Thank you for coming.” She nodded at him before the officers guided her out of the cell.

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Tommy lost count of how many time he had been looking at the closed drawer of his desk, the one where he had kept Daphne's file. Since John had given it to him, the Brummie gangster had been engaged in an internal debate about reading it or not.

A part of him felt that it was downright disrespectful to read her personal record like that - he knew that he hated when people mentioned his military history as they knew shit about him, she must feel the same way. Therefore, he ignored the file all he could. But after last night, after what happened at the wedding, the information was calling to him, literally within reach of his hands as he sat in his office, a glass of whiskey resting on the desk and a cigarette between his fingers.

He called Lizzie, said to her that she could go home and to lock the doors on her way out, so he would be alone. When he was sure that she had left, he opened the drawer and took the file, resting it on the desk right in front of him.

Scrambling over the many documents, he found her enlistment form. There was a photograph of her attached to it, in a nurse uniform and a serious expression on her face, hair neatly tied. Despite the circumstances, Tommy still found her beautiful. She was a part of the Queen Alexandra's Imperial Military Nursing Service, having volunteered at age eighteen. She served as a nurse in all four years of the war, in all kinds of places and was present in some of the worst battles getting to the rank of Senior Sister.

There were a lot of compliments from her superiors, a letter of recommendation from the Matron, information about the decorations she had earned - the military medal, a royal red cross and the most impressive of all, a Victoria Cross - but what really caught his attention was the information that came next.

Her brother had died in combat while she was there. When she received the news, in the middle of an offensive by the Germans, she continued to treat the patients even when relieved from work by her superiors.

“Fuck.” He leaned into the chair, his fingers brushing the photograph as he thought about what he had just read. Tommy had a tendency to forget that the war affected many families, it wasn’t a privilege of his own. He tried to remember all their interactions from the beginning - how she wasn’t frightened by him, how she didn’t felt disturbed by displays of violence, how she dealt with his and his brothers injuries like it was nothing - it all made sense now. They weren’t so different, after all.

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“Look.” May walked sideways from where they were heading. “Come” She said, stopping by the water fountain and motioned for him to come closer with her hand. When he approached, he saw goldfish swimming into the clear water. “Does it really stop the horses from getting worms?”

“Yep. It really does.” He took a drag of his cigarette, observing the fish for a moment. This was as good a time as any.

“Anyway, I thought it would make you smile.” When he didn’t said anything she continued. “I'm sorry that you had to drive through the night. Must be exhausted. You can go and sleep if you want.”

“May. We have to stop. This.” He turns to face her and points to the both of them. “I came here to tell you we have to stop.”

“Why?” She tooks a step closer to him. “Because I'm me and you're you? That old thing?”

“There's someone.” She seems surprised by that. “And I didn't want you to think anything about how it's going to be after the race.” he clears his throat while she looks away for a second. “Not many of your people know about me so I haven't done the damage that would come.”

“‘My people’?” May furrows her brows at him.

“But the damage isn't done, is what I mean.” He is a little unsure about how to deal with the situation, it’s been a while since he had to deal with things like that.

“Right.”

“And even if it's like this, I want the horse to stay here.”

“To stay. Yes, of course.”

“Epsom is close…”

“And I haven't got my outfit yet, so it's all right.” She looks away from him again.

“You can still be with me in the enclosure.”

“Very gracious of you, Sir.” Her tone brings together the hurt and the mockery she is feeling at the moment.

“You can wear something...”

“It's funny, isn't it, because you'll be up there and I'll be down in the ring. Sort of upside down, isn't it?”

“You can still be with me after and you can still wear something...”

“I will be covered in mud, from the ring.” May cuts him off, again.

“May, forget about men like me...” As he takes a step closer to him she walks away, circling the water fountain and standing opposite from him.

“I was going to tell you how much she's improved.” He turns to her, hands in his pockets.

“There are other men, May…”

“I think she stands a chance of placing, Sir.” She is trying to redirect, to sound stronger than she is, but there is no denying the tears she is holding back. “The silly part of our business is done. Are you going to drive straight off to Birmingham, or…?” He tilts his head and observes her.

“What if I said, huh, ‘All right, I'll stay’? After what I just said.” She stares back at him and then answers.

“Then that would be alright.” Tommy looks at the ground as she speaks again. “You talk about damage. The damage not yet done. You don't think half of London already thinks that I am fucking a racketeer? Laughing about it. Laying bets on when you'll steal the silver. You think your people are ruthless? Try mine.”

“So that is why you carry on, eh? Because you can't back down.”

“Amongst many other illogical reasons. So will you drive straight off, or? I haven't got any petrol in the garage.” And then he understands that despite how their relationship had started, May had really developed some kind of feeling for him besides the physical attraction.

“I have some cans of petrol in the car.”

“Good. So you can go.” After a moment, he clears his throat and walks away, only to turn around and walk back to the fountain, placing his foot at the end of the it and resting one of his arms on his leg.

“They look happy in there, eh? And why wouldn't they be?” May walks to stand beside him and asks.

“Who is she?” The image his mind conjures makes him take a deep breath.

“Someone who's sailing away.”

“So let her sail.” She says and he looks at her as she comes closer. “You've told me about her like a gentleman. Now kindly behave like a gangster again. Feel sorry for me, it's fine. Because your horse will come fifth or sixth. But I will win you.” As Thomas observes her walk away the only thing he can think about is that his heart is already taken.

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She holds onto him like she needs something to remind herself that she is still real, that she is alive. William just hugs her back, kissing the top of her head as he holds her, letting her take her time, knowing that this was probably the most trying times she has had since France.

“Thank you.” Daphne says when she releases the hold on him and he sees how much the fight had affected her. He had seen her in some very bad situations - covered in blood, both from her and from patients; working alone in injuries that require a lot more of personnel to deal with; taking one more shift even when she was clearly exhausted; working while injured; and the list goes on - but the situation at hand was clearly different. She looked defeated.

“You look horrible.” She tried to smile but it didn’t reached her eyes.

“That’s exactly what any woman needs to hear.”

“You’re not just any woman.” He closed the door behind him and followed her into the room. Daphne threw herself into the unmade bed, unceremoniously, hugging one of the pillows as she adjusted herself to look at him as he took a sit opposite from her. “I talked to Alfie…”

“I don’t want to talk about him.” William sighed, ignoring her.

“Don’t think I ever saw him like that.” Daphne took a deep breath, averting his gaze and looking to the window, it was almost dusk. “He said a lot of things that don’t make sense but I gathered that the fight has something to do with Mr. Shelby.” She stuck her head on the pillow, hiding her face from him, the sound of her voice muffled by the barrier.

“I don’t want to talk about it, not with you.” The man took a deep breath, moving closer to her, his fingers removing the hair covering her face as she looked at him.

“But is me who you’re going to talk to. Come on.” He beckoned her to sit as he took off his shoes and adjusted himself by her side, against the headboard. They stayed in silence for what seemed like a lifetime until he spoke again. “Just because I love you doesn’t mean that you can’t talk to me about your feelings.”

“Will…”

“No, I mean it. I accepted that a long time ago when I decided that I wanted to stay in your life.” Daphne looked at him just to find him already staring back at her. “We are friends. I want to be here for you as you will be here for me when I have my heart broken someday.” Again, she thought, with a hint of guilty.

“My heart hadn’t been broken.”

“I wasn’t talking about Thomas, but we will get there.” She looked forward, in the direction of the fireplace, deep in thought. “I know you for what, eight years? You’re not a very open person, Daph, you always hide yourself from others. Both of you do that, because God knows that Alfie doesn’t let a lot of people in. But somehow you two found each other and understood each other and none of us really figured out how you two worked, but you did. What happened?” Daphne took her time thinking about the question before answering.

“Since France I have been surviving. Just surviving, not living, since it was the only thing I knew. Because I didn’t know how to live, I didn’t know how to…” He saw her fighting the tears, a very rare occurrence to her, and took her hand in his. “ Because I didn’t know how to live without Benjamin. I still don’t. So I relayed on Alfie, I relayed on Alfie because he was the last thing thing that connected me to my brother, because he understood what felt like losing him. It was comfortable, it was safe, so I overlooked things I never thought I would, I learned the ways of the business, I settled down and in the middle of all of this I lost who I am.”

“And who are you, Daphne Scott?”

“That’s the problem - I don’t know. I have been many things, but I don’t know who I am anymore.” She continued talking without looking at him. “Before the war I was Miss Scott, a proper lady. Raised to always be polite, smile, say praises at gala dinners, be a good girl and find herself a rich husband that only wanted her for the money, bear him children and live a miserable, loveless life as the good wife I was trained to be. At least, that was the persona that everybody knew, because she coexisted with Daphne, and Daphne wanted very different things. Most important of all, she wanted to be free. She was a romantic who believed she could change the world, that she could find love and be happy away from everything she was raised into. Senior Sister Scott wanted to help people but she also learned that the world would always take something from her, always, because no good deed goes unpunished. But I am neither of them now.”

“Then discover who you are. You owe it to yourself. You owe it to him.” He moved on the bed to face her, taking both her hands in his. “All these years you have been hiding yourself behind this character you created because deep down you think you don’t deserve to live, you think that you should have died in his place.” The tears start to fall from her eyes and Daphne tries to take her hands off off his, to looks away from him and hide herself in her shell again but Willian doesn’t let her. “But there are things in this life that we will never understand and although I haven’t met Benjamin I know that he would want you to be happy.”

Taglist: @stressedandbandobessed7771

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nomdeguerreblogs · 5 years ago

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hello!! i don't know if you still into tommy x grace ....but if so, what do you think that season 3 would had be? in terms of their relationship with each other, and others, particularly grace with polly and ada. i miss them, and im terrible afraid of tommy and lizzie having more years together, and more kids.

Hello anon! I answered an ask a little while ago about how the Time Gap Tommy and Grace looked and hopefully that goes some way to answering this. The other part of your question - about how Grace interacted with other family members is tricky. I don’t think S3 tried very hard at all to answer it, but I do think it’s interesting. Because I want to know who Grace was (at least partly to know why THIS woman, why does Tommy who we know quite a lot about, love HER); and I want to know what she thinks of Tommy who, despite what SK thinks about his charismatic bad boy is not readily loveable; and I want to know what the family - especially Arthur, Ada and Polly - think of the pairing. The family members might have counterpointed Tommy’s grief too and given the audience a slightly more sympathetic way in (yes I know he bats away Arthur and Polly but…) Before I wander off who knows where…

Let’s start with Arthur, who you didn’t ask about, but I like, so. He remembers Grace in the Garrison covering for him taking cash and talking about manky cigarettes, and that he was attracted to her then too. He remembers watching Tommy watching her and being amused and pleased that his brother was doing something palpably normal and comprehensible; ie. lusting after a good-looking bird. He’s not capable at the time of appreciating the emotion though (“give her a good seeing to” I mean, Arthur please Tommy’s nearly proposing). The other thing Arthur brings in perspective is the idea of betrayal; after being scammed by his father he understands being manipulated by someone you love, and still loving them, and wanting things to be changed, better, kind. (FWIW, there are several parallels that begin way back in 1.05 between Grace and Arthur Sr, usually antithetical.) Arthur’s relationship with Linda seems to have taken Tommy’s with Grace as a bit of a template too. I would suggest that, just as much as Polly might, Arthur gets Tommy’s perspective in the relationship with Grace, just in a different way. It’s kind of a masculine perspective; he gets the lust and that she softens him, and finally in S3 he understands that’s good. He’s best man for a reason. Anyway, Arthur I think likes Grace in an uncomplicated way, and cheers them on. His “Sorry, sister” is possibly my favourite line of the entire series from anyone to anyone (it’s a close run thing with Tommy finally saying ‘I love you’) because it is the only one that indicates she is family, not just to Tommy, but the rest of them as well.

Now, Polly. *rolls up sleeves*

Oh my giddy fucking aunt where do I go with this? In series one, Polly and Grace have a frank exchange that is by turns tense, warm, charming and deadly and ultimately, woman to woman, honest. Polly intuits (way better than Tommy who has been thinking with his penis for episodes) some of Grace’s background (rich girl; Ulster Volunteer), and her opinions about her surroundings*. Grace gets to ask what Tommy was like before France and they connect briefly, because Polly sees how Grace really feels and understands it. They both love him, and recognise his extraordinariness, there is momentary compassion. After Polly has given the ultimatum - I run the business of the heart in this family and I will never accept you and if you’re not gone tomorrow I’ll shoot you (or something very similar, I’m rusty) - Grace also gets to deliver the final barb, and she’s right too when she tells Polly of her fear of losing him. Anyway, we learn quite a bit about Grace, and a bit about Tommy during this exchange (how many people have lost their minds to the line “He used to laugh. A lot.”? At least 98% of the fandom at last count). It is the ideal template for a parallel conversation in a different tone several years later - Gray and Shelby, hatpins at the ready, interpreting our dear protagonist and love and fear and loathing. Instead there was a suggestion that Polly has really let fly at Grace (“Tommy’s orders, no upsets tonight”), Grace’s handy expository monologue about the Russian business, her cheap shot about the power of her vagina to suck information out of him (“We were late coming down because we were having sex and then he told me everything”), and Polly trying to one-up her by telling her the final piece of the puzzle before the smug “remember I used to do this for a living.” Like the conversation in the first series, it’s about power (and don’t get me wrong I love that there are two female characters in this kind of dynamic) but that’s its limit, and that disappoints me because the characters have things in common (like, being desired by and shooting Campbell for example; wanting what is good for the family; actually knowing what it is to love Tommy and what a complicated business indeed that is; knowing how it is to work in a ‘man’s world’) that are richer and more interesting than their differences, yet it’s the differences that were emphasised.

AND ANOTHER THING. I’m not done with Polly yet. She is the emotion to Arthur’s lustful understanding. She ‘gets’ love: “Polly is never wrong about matters of the heart.” It is one of the first series’ most delightful twists that Polly, after chasing Grace out of town, gives Tommy the news that it was ‘for real,’ Grace did indeed love him. Perhaps this is cold comfort. Perhaps it is Polly’s way of telling him that his intuition wasn’t broken. And yet it is also Polly who tells Grace he might forgive her, giving hope she never imagined to have. Despite her threat in 1919, Polly is absolutely up to her neck in responsibility for allowing them to happen at all - I’m surprised Tommy hasn’t called a horse Polly’s Gift tbh - and I hoped S3 would acknowledge if not celebrate that fact. But it’s like SK only remembered the hatred and hardness. Beyond that, there’s this lowkey implication that Polly’s dislike for Grace colours her response to her death. Of all the characters, excepting Ada, Polly is the one who should have mined Tommy’s grief for the audience. But apparently Tatiana looks a little like Edna Purviance (Chaplin’s leading lady, you know?) to John and when you grieve you make bad choices. I mean. That’s it? Yep. That’s it. I know Tommy basically turned inwards and hardened his carapace to avoid descending completely into madness, but it is Polly’s job as a character to connect with emotion and empathise with grief, but she didn’t at all and it’s a bit baffling. Tommy is left wondering at the end of the series whether the family is worth all his effort, and Polly’s distance, brought on by her own romantic sub-plot and coolness towards Tommy’s chosen other half, is definitely part of that. But it feels cheap and thin when it could have been rich and gravy. (Just to clarify, while Tommy was definitely in no mood for a heart-to-heart she could still have been the audience’s anchor to the emotion in other ways, other conversations, actions. Polly doesn’t even mention Grace Shelby at the opening of the Institute bearing her name.)

OK, Ada. In my head, before the series began, I imagined Ada and Grace as warily respectful of each other and actually able to connect quite well. The biggest fly in their ointment is Grace’s responsibility for Freddie’s arrest in 1.04. But because it has never been mentioned since I’m not sure how it all fell; I’m also not convinced Ada wound up in a good place with Freddie before ‘pestilence’ took him so maybe that would colour her opinion too. They probably don’t see each other that much because Ada’s still largely committed to her cause in S3. Of all the characters, they are probably closest in terms of how they see Tommy - with hope and kindness (remember the way they both point out to him that he is loved on Derby Day?) - and, of all the characters, they are the two with reason to think this way. I wish I had heard a conversation between them because, like Polly’s, it could have been insightful.

Oh god and Lizzie and Tommy. I really dislike it. I really do. But it does seem to be endgame. I just consume vast quantities of whiskey before every episode now to deal with the pain. xx

*I have to point out that I’m not sure Grace exactly thinks the people of Small Heath are ‘scum,’ and also that Tommy sees himself as above them as well. Also while they are both loners, Grace is a loner in exile.

#ask #anon #tommy x grace #sorry this took so long #but yeah #that's how i roll #it's probably nothing like what you wanted either lol #but i ran away with myself a little #because i'm still frustrated and a bit upset about all the wasted potential here tbh

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dunkjrk · 6 years ago

Text

narcissus i

pairing- michael x y/n (fem)

word count- 3.6k

warnings- cursing, mentions of cheating, infant abandonment

a/n- okay, before I start I just want to say this is more of a prologue where I introduce y/n’s background and her relationships with the other characters so not as much as I hoped happens, but this means I’ll be able to focus solely on the story in future parts!! I don’t ship May and Arthur, that’s just sort of he way the story turned out,,, and pls note that this isn’t 100% mythology accurate, so don’t use this for any educational purposes :D

Hades, although most people called him Michael, was the God of the Underworld. Michael was the same age as y/n, both younger than the majority of the Gods. Tommy claimed that given Demeter’s specialty, it only made sense for y/n to be the Goddess of spring, leaving the final job for Michael. But Michael didn’t have any family to vouch for him as y/n did, he was an affair child- something frowned upon in Olympus. And so his parents, whoever they were, abandoned him for the rest of the Gods to find. Tommy didn’t know anything about Michael, simply waiting for him to grow up before sending him off to rule the Underworld. But Michael didn’t belong there. Not to begin with anyway. Time turned him to stone, and after years upon years living with the agonising screams of the tortured souls, Michael inevitably turned cold. Despite being tucked away in the Underworld as soon as he hit 16, he wasn’t oblivious. He knew he was an affair child, he knew Tommy paid no attention to who he was before damning him to rule the Underworld, and after years of living in Hell, he knew that he despised y/n for stealing what could have been his.

Michael, the God of death, finds himself infuriated with y/n, the Goddess of life.

Y/n was the daughter of Demeter, though amongst the Gods her mother was referred to as May, and was the goddess of spring. Outside of Olympus, she had multiple names- the most common being Persephone. The goddess of spring was beautiful. Her eyes were wide and innocent, with dark yet bright irises, rimmed with the prettiest lashes that brushed her cheek each time she blinked. Soft wisps of hair gently caressed her face, cascading down her back into a gorgeous tangle of waves and curls. Demeter was well aware of how beautiful her daughter was, and so she took it upon herself to hide her away from the rest of the world. It wasn’t that the Goddess of the harvest was evil, or even envious of her daughter. It was nothing like that, Demeter simply simply couldn't afford to lose y/n. Y/n’s father, Zeus (otherwise known as Tommy), had left Demeter as soon as she was born, instead marrying Hera (or Grace), the Goddess of marriage and family. Whilst she made out like it didn’t bother her, Zeus leaving broke her and though try as she might to hide it, there was no doubt that Demeter was never the same afterwards. And so she hid y/n away, in fear of her daughter leaving too. The most desired maiden in all of Olympus was bound to find somebody soon enough, though the idea both outraged yet delighted Demeter. Hiding y/n from the rest of the world only satisfied half of Demeter, because as much as she wanted Persephone to herself, she was well aware of the opportunities she was robbing her daughter of

There wasn’t a single being in all of Olympus purer than her. She was pretty, yes, but she was far from dumb, and she was very far from weak. She grew up surrounded by stories of rape, abuse and kidnappings, and so the young Goddess took it upon herself to learn to defend herself not only verbally, but if it came down to it physically too. Demeter wasn’t too proud of the reputation her daughter gained after leaving the butcher’s son unconscious when she was 15, and no matter how much she reasoned, Demeter just wouldn’t agree. ‘Mom, he tried to force himself onto me! Was I supposed to just let him?’ ‘Of course not dear, but you don’t lower yourself to their levels, we use words to fight our battles, yeah?’ Although, she knew her combat skills would only get her so far, so Y/n used the library Zeus had built in Olympus frequently to educate herself, and she listened in intently during meetings with the rest of the Gods. As for the rest of the Gods, they all adored y/n. She had taken a particular liking to Finn, better known as Apollo and Ada, or to mortals Artemis. Tommy tried his best to be involved with y/n and May, although being a married man with children of his own, and an entire kingdom to manage- this proved to be quite difficult. Whilst he dropped by for brief periods of time on her birthday or other occasions, Tommy’s presence was very scarce around the two. That’s not to say y/n had no father figure as she grew up. The God of War, Aries (or Arthur) had shown an interest in the young girl when he caught her crying amongst her mother’s bluebells when she was barely 4.

The sound of sniffles and whimpers caught the war God’s attention as the chatter of the others seemed to drown out. Tommy was hosting another party in celebration of his wife baring another child, although by this point the news barely surprised an of the Gods, and so the majority only showed up for the drinks.

He handed (shoved) his glass into Poseidon's chest, leaving the baffled sea God with nothing more than a mumble of ‘hold m’ drink john’ as he slipped out of the group, heading for towards the soft cries coming from the garden.

“Who’s there? The party’s inside.” Arthur called, cautiously edging closer to the source to the sound.

“It’s fuckin’ scorchin’ hot here, what y’doin’ sittin’ out in the su-”

He paused.

Opening his mouth, no words came out when his eyes met with a wide, watery pair.

Arthur was the God of War. It was no surprise to anyone how aggressive and hot headed he was, so when Arthur saw the small girl hugging her knees to chest with sticky tear stains covering her face, he even surprised himself with his actions.

Being the personification of conflict, it isn’t much of a surprise that Arthur had not the slightest idea of what to do. The girl spoke up first, running a small hand over her cheeks,

“S-sorry. Please don’t tell my mummy, she’ll get upset too.”

“I won’t… what y’ cryin’ for though, huh? Y’ should be over there playin’ with the other kids.”

She pinched her face together, her tiny features scrunching up as she shook her head.

“Don’t wanna, they’re not nice to me,” y/n sniffled, glancing at the ground where she toyed with the shards of grass.

“They were laughing at me because I don’t have a daddy... they said it’s because of me but it’s not even my fault! Mummy said I used to have one, but I don’t anymore.” She pauses, trailing off. This was a sensitive topic for both her and her mother. May had always avoided the subject whenever y/n brought it up, and so she never really bothered to push her mother any further.

“D-do you know why I don’t have a daddy? Did I really do something wrong? It’s not actually my fault... is it?”

“Y’what? No, of course not poppet, that’s not your fault, none of this is your fau- which ones said it, huh? Which ones said all that, c’mon, tell me which little fuckers-“

Her head snapped up, eyes wide as her dainty hand flew up to cover her mouth, from which the tiniest giggle escaped.

“Oi, what’s funny?” Arthur grumbled with a small frown, though his frustration with the children had dissolved.

Another laugh ripped through the serenity of the atmosphere surrounding the two, and although it was clear the girl was laughing at him, Arthur couldn’t find it in himself to be remotely angry.

“You said a bad language word!” she squealed, followed by a small laugh from the God of war opposite her.

He sat himself down on the grass now, ignoring the strange look from the couple that passed him as he did.

“Promise me you won’t tell anyone.”

The girl held out her pinky, interlinking it with his much larger one.

“I promise.”

❀ ❀ ❀

Hades, although most people called him Michael, was the God of the Underworld. Michael was the same age as y/n, both younger than the majority of the Gods. Tommy had claimed that given Demeter’s specialty, it only made sense for y/n to be the goddess of spring, leaving the final job for Michael. But Michael didn’t have any family to vouch for him as y/n did, he was an affair child- something frowned upon in Olympus. And so his parents, whoever they were, abandoned him for the rest of the Gods to find. Tommy didn’t know anything about Michael, simply waiting for him to grow up before sending him off to rule the Underworld. But Michael didn’t belong there. Not to begin with anyway. Time turned him to stone, and after years upon years living with the agonising screams of the tortured souls, Michael inevitably turned cold. Despite being tucked away in the Underworld as soon as he hit 16, he wasn’t oblivious. He knew he was an affair child, he knew Tommy paid no attention to who he was before damning him to rule the Underworld, and after years of living in Hell, he knew that he despised y/n for stealing what could have been his.

❀ ❀ ❀

The distant sound of birdsong broke y/n out of her slumber. Pushing herself up from the ball she had curled up into, she ran a hand over her puffy eyes as a pout worked its way onto her lips.

“C’mon darling, up up up!”

“No, go away mom,”

Demeter folded her arms across her chest, a knowing look being cast in y/n’s direction.

“None of that now, you know just how important tonight is-”

“Yes, how could I forget that tonight will be the night you lot find a man to ship me off to?”

The older Goddess chuckled, placing herself down on the edge of y/n’s bed before continuing,

“Quite the opposite, actually. We’re going to find you someone as close as possible. And maybe even get him to come and live here, with us.”

Baring in mind her mother's romantic history and the amount of inner debating it took her mother to come to the conclusion she was ready for her daughter to marry, y/n knew she was better off staying silent whilst she dragged herself out of bed, unable to stop the small sigh that left her lips.

“Enough with your attitude, you might not want to get married but you know how bad it will look if you don’t. Trust me, being single is fun for now, but after a while when all your friends get married and start their own families, you’ll be left alone. And it took me a while to face the truth, but I know that I’m not going to put you through that because of my personal reasons.”

She shook her head, pulling her mother into a tight embrace.

“Tommy, Zeus, whatever we’re to call him, isn’t worth it, and you know that. He left you, you shouldn’t feel remotely guilty for what he did. You’re too good for him, Tommy and Grace make a perfect couple- they’re both just as low as each other. Remember the time she put a mortal through all those tests just because she slept with Tommy whilst he was pretending to be her husband? Is that what you’re jealous of? Hmm? Is that the man you want?”

Demeter chuckled, a small shake of her head as she placed her hand on her daughter’s cheek.

“Hush now, let’s not speak of other people in such a manner, have I not brought you up better than that?”

“But mom, she’s a bitch!”

❀ ❀ ❀

It was around midnight when he entered. When y/n had wished for a change in atmosphere, this was not what she meant.

Demeter hurried around the room, fussing over her daughter stood before the mirror whilst she scurried around the room in search of a towel, a cloth or maybe even a piece of fabric- she was desperate.

“I told you to let me dress closer to the time!” The younger women huffed, maneuvering her body away from the mirror to help her mother.

“Not another step! You’ve done enough damage as it is, can’t even trust you to sit in the garden without mucking up your dress, so don’t even think about moving.”

The event was set to start in the evening, and so y/n thought it would make sense to change into her formal gown closer to the time, though Demeter was having none of it. Brushing off y/n’s complaints with a “Oh, what’s the worst that can happen? Come on now, get a move on.”

With the dress on and nothing else to do, y/n headed to the garden to tend to the lillies she had planted a few days ago. How was she to know that her mother had gone and dug up a small hole in preparation for a new batch of Dahlias? So when she sat down to feed the delicate plants, a smidge of the dirt from the newly dug up grass stained the baby pink lace adorning the wrist she used to support herself to lean over to sprinkle the water over them. The dress itself was quite simple, a pretty shade of light pink. The top half was lace, clinging to her figure all the way down to her waist where a strip of silk the same shade connected it to the lower half, chiffon that hung freely from her hips. According to Demeter, it had taken months to create, though y/n found this highly unlikely. That’s not to say she didn’t feel any less guilty when she stood up, only to see the dirt embedded into the lace.

“Can’t you see there’s nothing of assistance in my room? There’s ample towels in the washroom, I’ll go fetch one.”

Hesitence was clearly etched onto May’s features, but nonetheless she agreed, following her daughter to the washroom.

Reaching for the nearest towel, y/n dipped the edge of it into a small bucket of water.

“Be careful, stop, hand it to me and I’ll do it.” May offered, though it was more of a demand.

More or less snatching the towel from her daughter’s grip, she began her attempt to get the stain out whilst trying to get a conversation flowing.

“Why do I feel I’m more excited than you are about tonight?”

“Maybe because you are?”

Eyes never leaving the task at hand, Demeter glanced at her daughter with a disapproving nod, the smallest sign of amusement lining her face, though when she spoke, her words dripped with sorrow.

“Do you want to end up like your mother? Lonely?”

Y/n shook her head, a small ‘no mother’ falling from her lips. She could sense the change in atmosphere, deeming it best to just keep her mouth shut for now.

May seemed to think the same, for the rest of the time spent getting out the stain was in an unbearably loud silence.

❀ ❀ ❀

“Oh, y/n it’s lovely!” May exclaimed, throwing her arms around her daughter’s small frame as the two women took in the sight before them.

With a fake smile plastered on her face, y/n gave her mother a small thumbs up, “yes, yes it’s nice.” May frowned down at her daughter, patting her arm gently before retracting her own back to her side.

“I’m gonna leave you to it now, yeah? Be nice,” Her mother warned, before leaving y/n to her own devices with nothing more than a curt nod in her direction.

The venue was nice, not even y/n’s lack of enthusiasm could take away the beauty of the wooden decor surrounding her. Vines clung to the pillars that stood in each corner of the room, and from the ceilings hung lanterns, illuminating the baby pink petals dusted along the floor.

“All this and you’re not even engaged yet? Bloody hell, weddings’ bound to be a sight, huh?”

Y/n froze. A voice of velvet, smoother than melted honey and so deep and gratifying, it left y/n with a desire to hear it again. And so she replied, her voice a much meeker sound.

“My mom just really wants me to get married.”

A few moments of silence passed, hurtling y/n into a state of panic at the lack of reply. She glanced up at him through her lashes in an attempt to find the reason without making it too blatant. The man that stood before her was clad entirely in black, with eyes deeper than the oceans and greener than the ample fields she used to play in when she was an infant. The the ash brown waves of locks on his head lay perfectly in place, apart from the single strand of stray hair that caressed his right cheekbone. He had a somewhat diamond shaped face, with defined and sturdy features; and of course a jawline sharp enough to cut the tension growing between the two. Though, it was his attire that set him apart from the people surrounding him. Exhibiting nothing but the colour black, y/n almost felt out of place standing before him in pink.

“Well, I highly doubt she would go to such extremes if she wanted to keep you.” He sneered, an amused expression playing on his features at y/n’s evident discomfort.

“I mean,” he began, cutting short her attempt at replying, “if I was adored by all of Olympus, I probably wouldn’t want to leave and marry either.”

Y/n frowned, though it seemed this had no effect n the stranger, who continued regardless.

“But no, I understand why someone like you wouldn’t want to marry. I’m sure no one is good enough for the little Goddess of life, isn’t that right? How could someone as perfect as Persephone ever find someone remotely fit to marry her?” His tone was loud enough to attract the attention of a few people nearby, and had y/n not been so surprised at the stranger’s outburst, she would have taken note as to how their eyes widened in recognition when they spotted him.

His gaze somewhat softened when he noticed her confused and hurt expression, and had he not have noticed the hand now upon y/n’s shoulder, he would’ve felt slight regret.

“Michael, how lovely of you to join us.” Spoke the voice behind her, removing his hand from y/n’s shoulder although he made no attempt to move. John. Being Arthur’s brother, he too was incredibly protective of y/n, despite only being a few years older than her.

“Poseidon, lovely to see you again!” Michael smirked, feigning enthusiasm.

With a nod in his direction and a, “likewise, we’ll have to reacquaint soon, but y/n’s mother requires her presence.”, John turned his back to the uninvited visitor, his grip on y/n’s wrist tight as he pulled her away from the scene, and in the direction of presumably her mother.

“Y/n can walk herself, you know.” She told John with a small smile on her face, though the roughness in her touch as she gripped his wrist to twist her own free gave her away.

“Could’ve just asked me to let go rather than nearly snap m’ radius bone… what’s with you anyway?” John murmured, nursing his bruising forearm and his tainted ego (Olympus was already aware of y/n’s combat skills, but having her get out of his grip without breaking a sweat in public wasn’t exactly something John was fond of).

Y/n shook her head, “I bloody had that! Dunno why you had to come and save the day, I was more than capable of dealing with him, John! Why does everyone treat me like I’m a kid?”

“Because you are?” John teased, his long legs only taking him a stride to catch up with her. “Oi,” He maneuvered himself so he was stood before her, leaving her no choice but to stop and look at him, “put this away,” he muttered, poking the small pout that had worked its way onto her face, “and listen to me. I didn’t choose to, I know you could handle it, but your mummy dearest on the other hand…” He snickered, watching as her face fell. “Seriously? How much comotion did she cause?” Y/n groaned, already conjuring up scenarios of her mother causing a fuss.

“Just got Arthur a bit worked up, Hades coming in and all.”

“Wait, who’s Ha-“

Before y/n was able to finish her question, May was out of her seat, clutching her daughter’s smaller frame to her own.

“Arthur, get over here before May snaps your daughter in half.” John yelled, the wide grin he was sporting oblivious to the attention he was drawing.

Arthur, however wore the exact opposite expression.

“What were thinking? Huh? Scared the life outta me ‘n May.” He told her, his voice holding a certain seriousness y/n had never heard from him before. May nodded in agreement, placing a gentle hand on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Darling, I know you like going off on your on and making your own decisions, but I need you to listen to us when we tell you he is bad news.”

“Who?” Y/n finally spoke. For a moment, she had begun to think Arthur and May had mistaken her for someone else- she’d spent the majority of the time mulling about by herself, and the man in the black suit seemed harmless. Incredibly mean and very very attractive, but harmless nonethelesss.

“Why, how many Gods of the Underworld have you been speaking to tonight?” May chuckled, though her face still held the same fear and worry it did when y/n had been dragged over by John.

“Underworld?”

Arthur, now slightly frustrated, sighed. “Y/n, that boy in the black suit, that’s Hades. Amongst the Gods he’s called Michael. The two of you, you’re about the same age. When Tommy was deciding who would be the God of what, he had assigned roles to everyone but the two of you. But Michael, his parents- whoever they are- had an affair when they had him, because he was abandoned at birth. To this day, we still don’t know which Gods did it, but as you know affairs are frowned upon here, and so by default so is the child. When it came to giving you and Michael your responsibilities, he had the options of the Underworld and, well what you have. He was only 16 when Tommy sent him there, the poor kid.”

Y/n shook her head, frowning at the older man.

“How’s that make him so dangerous?”

“Y/n, love, the lad hates you.”

wHOO OKAY SO I FINALLY DID THIS!!!!!! THIS IS MY FIRST EVERY FIC SO I APOLOGISE FOR HOW BAD IT IS AHAHAHA. IM SORRY THERES BARELY ANY Y/N X MICHAEL HERE BUT THE BACKSTORY IN THIS IS A BIT DIFFERENT TO THE REAL ONE SO I WANTED TO MAKE SURE ALL THAT STUFF WAS COVERED BEFORE I FULLY GOT INTO THE STORY, SO I SUPPOSE THIS IS MORE OF A PROLOGUE??? ANWAY, PLS LIKE & REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT AND LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT A PART TWO OR IF I SHOULD START SOMETHING ELSE INSTEAD!! ALSO, IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS OR HEACANONS ABOUT THE STORY OR THE CHARACTERS MY ASK BOX IS ALWAYS OPEN!! :D

#again I'm v sorry for the boringness #michael gray #peaky blinders #michael gray fanfic #michael gray fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfiction #michael gray imagine #michael gray x reader #michael gray x you #finn cole imagine #finn cole x reader

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twistedrunes · 7 years ago

Note

All of the # prompts for Tommy!

WOW!! Okay, buckle up peeps!! I have copied and pasted any I have done previously.

1) Their favourite time of year: Yeah, so the mid-winter. But not for the reason you might think - it’s mostly to do with the clothes. It’s hard to look sophisticated, and well dressed in shorts and a T-shirt

2) If they like reading, and if so their favourite book: He does read, generally only when his head is too much of a mess and he can’t sleep. His fav book is by his friend Winston Churchill - The Boer War. Likes to study the strategies that worked and what didn’t.

3) Their favourite type of landscape: Outside, lots of fresh air, it’s easier to breathe. Green lots of green. No quagmires of disgusting blood-soaked mud, sucking men down, with trenches scarring the landscape. Definitely no tunnels or caves.

4) Their favourite way to waste time: Tommy doesn’t waste time. He’s too busy. Probably the closest he gets to ‘wasting time.’ Is fucking and reading.

5) Their favourite type of music: Grace singing - doesn’t matter what. Oh and he really likes that Nick Cave song - Red Right Hand

6) Hobbies Honestly he’s just too busy. But he would go horse riding when he had the time.

7) Their happiest memory Seeing Charlie for the first time. Grace looked so beautiful and was such a natural mum. Charlie was so little and perfect Tommy couldn’t believe he had made something so pure and beautiful. Charlie grabbed his finger and wouldn’t let go.

8) Their most embarrassing moment In junior school he got into trouble, basically for being a Shelby and his father came down to have it out with the teacher. Drunk. Mr Shelby tried to hit the teacher and missed and fell down. His teacher never let him forget.

9) A cute best friend moment: Um, chasing his brother around a fountain at his wedding?!

10) Their best childhood memory: When Ada was born. Finally a little sister. He used to sit next to her bassinette and watch her sleep. She was just so little and sweet.

11) An awkward moment That time when Grace and Mary met each other in the bar.

12) If they have blemishes and how they got them He had a rising sun tattoo on his chest during the to remind him the sun always rises, his mother’s name in a star on his arm. The scars - honestly even he doesn’t remember where they all came from. (sorry this one’s tricky)

13) Their biggest regret Grace - he knows it was his fault she was killed. He will never forgive himself

14) Their biggest fear That it’s all for nothing. Grace dying. Charlie being taken. The vendetta. John’s death. Everything.

15) Any nervous tics they may have Not so much a tic as a need. Does not like to be still. Always needs to be either physically or mentally moving.

16) Their calming techniques Smoking. It’s not healthy but, hey. It acts as a mental distraction and it’s something to do with his hands.

17) How they cope with nightmares Doesn’t. Just doesn’t. Avoiding sleep and alcohol.

18) Their most prized possession Cigarette case. Grace gave it to him for Christmas.

19) One thing they can’t live without Charlie. If something were to happen to the boy it would just be the end of him.

20) If they collect things – if so, what: Bodies, enemies, mistresses, horses, illegitimate children, vendetta’s, Gin recipes, repressed memories, honours, businesses, suits,

21) What kind of keepsakes do they have Photos of Grace and the rest of the family. Some letters from Gretta.

22) What they think is the most important sense I’ve been a bit liberal with the definition of sense. A sense of timing. Plans are all well and good but you need to know when the best time to execute them is.

23) If they know any other languages I think he would have learnt some of the South African languages (Afrikaans, Tswana, Zulu, Xhosa, Venda and Northern and Southern Sotho) from the other clay kickers. In addition to English and Romani. Possibly horse and dog too.

24) If they have a good luck charm, if so what it is and why it’s important It’s a horseshoe, embossed on a small disc of copper, made by Arthur out of some old artillery casings. Made it in France, had it on him when he got buried, Arthur had made the other two who survived ones too. Had a jeweller put it on the inside of the cover of his fob watch, that way it’s always with him.

25) How they spend rainy days Like any other, it’s only water.

26) If they’re a doodler or a writer Doodles. Mostly triangles and squares and horseshoes.

27) How they sleep: Tommy doesn’t. Churchill learnt how to power nap from Tommy. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

28) How they hug Stiffly at first. It’s standing still, he doesn’t really like that. Then he’d relax into it a bit more, face buried in your hair. Eyes closed.

29) How they express love (platonically and/or romantically): Time. Tommy shows he loves you by giving you time. And if you’re his wife (or mistress) or child expensive and excessive gifts.

30) A skill that they’d love to have He would have loved to be a jockey. As short as he is, he’s still too tall to be a jockey.

31) If they found out they only had a day left to live, how they would use that time He truly believes that every day could be his last so he would carry on, as usual, making plans, looking after the family. Kissing Charlie Goodnight.

32) If they were faced with a genie what they’d use their three wishes for and why (So I’m employing the Disney Genie rules here - no one comes back from the dead) 1.Money 2. Power 3. Influence

33) If they were offered immortally would they take it and why A tough one and I think he would be torn himself. Part of him would want an end to the mental torment and perhaps he could actually get some sleep and would hope he could be reunited with Grace. But he’s ambitious and he’d feel like he needed to look after whichever of his family chose to stay.

34) If they had a spirit animal what form do they think it would take. No question it would be a horse.

35) Crossover things (e.g. which Hogwarts house would they be in, or what would their role be in a zombie apocalypse)

Hogwarts House: Slytherin (Ambition, cunning, self-preservation, cleverness and fraternity but he thinks he’s Gryffindor - he thinks his motives are purer than they are)

MCU Superpowers: Fear Manipulation like the Scarlet Witch. He knows how your mind can be your biggest enemy. Magic - “I can charm dogs (and horses). Gypsy witchcraft” like Loki

While not specifically a superpower I think he’d identify with Tony Stark (Genius, Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist). I made these all Avengers didn’t mean to but you know they’re both families (of sorts, who fell out and got back together, hurt each other, hmmmm more than one similarity there!)

Prompt list here - doing these all weekend so feel free to send one in.

Do you agree? Disagree? Have an idea you want me to do? Send me an ask.Interested in my other work? Find them on my MASTERLIST

#peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcanons #tommy shelby #twistedrunes imagine #twistedrunes hc #twistedrunes requested #twistedrunes ask

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