#tommy shelby x sister!oc

[fablesfolklore]

Masterlist

Lilith Rose Shelby Peaky Blinders

Pre-Series 1

First Blood

First Kiss

Series 6

Jealous Man

Post Series 6

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

[deebris]

Act 1: Permission

Shelby family x sister reader (platonic!)

Synopsis: Liam Byrne (OC), a humble dockworker and your brother Finn's closest friend, has secretly fallen for you. Driven by pure intentions, he dares to face the most feared man in Birmingham — Thomas Shelby — to ask for permission to court you. However, in a world where power speaks louder than love, Liam's courage might not be enough.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, cigarettes, angst.

Word count: ≈ 1.6k

Observation: The reader does not actively participate in this story. Additionally, this is my first time writing for the Peaky Blinders universe.

ACT 2: Sacrifice

“Let me see if I understand this correctly.” Tommy removed his reading glasses to look at the young man closely. “You came here to ask for permission to court my little sister, is that it?”

“Yes, Mr. Shelby,” his inexperienced voice confirmed. Though he stammered at first, there was no hesitation in the words.

Tommy leaned back in his chair, sighing as he studied the boy for any obvious flaws. He didn’t yet have the face of a man, but his hands were so rough and calloused that them revealed the responsibility he carried.

Liam Byrne worked from dawn until dusk, seven days a week. His sun-tanned skin and tired eyes also told the tale of his hard routine. His hair, once a lighter brown in his infancy, now used to be dark, covered in grease and mud.

But Tommy noticed the effort he made to look presentable. His white shirt was clean, and the shoes were polished despite being worn out. His hair had been washed, each strand perfectly in place. And the scent he wore, though faint, was pleasant. Liam wanted to make a good impression, the one of a decent and civilized man.

Looking at him a bit longer, his face seemed familiar. It wasn’t uncommon to see him near the canals or walking with Finn every once in a while.

“Byrne, right?” The Shelby asked just to confirm, trying to remember any other member of the family. “And what do you do for a living?”

“I work at the docks, sir. I unload and load most of the boats that come in.”

Tommy was silent for a moment, observing Liam with an impassive face, which made the boy swallow hard. It was clear how he interlaced his fingers, waiting for the man in front of him to say something. Byrne didn’t seem afraid, but he was nervous.

“You’re a dockworker?” Tom finally spoke, bewildered.

“Exactly, sir,” he said without shame, but also without pride. It’s honest work, true, but it wasn’t up to a Shelby’s standard.

Liam's hands clenched his knees so tightly that the knuckles turned white.

“And what exactly does a dockworker think he can offer my sister?’

Tommy’s voice was so calm it made him tense up even more. Intimidating, yes, and Liam knows he is facing a powerful man; someone who deserves more respect than all the gentlemen in Birmingham put together.

He was in love with you in a way that went beyond mere infatuation; it was almost suffocating, as if his heart would leap from his chest every time he saw you. That’s why Thomas Shelby’s approval was so important to him.

And the poor Liam was too decent to get involved with a young lady without her family’s knowledge.

“For now, I can’t offer much more than security and a comfortable life, but…”

“Security? A comfortable life?” Tommy interrupted him harshly, as if he had said something ridiculous.

The boy’s green eyes blinked a few times but never wavered, never looking down. Thomas liked that, he had to admit, but it wasn’t enough.

“How old are you?”

“Seventeen.”

It wasn’t much different from your age, just two years older, and it explained a lot of his stupid determination.

“Does my sister know about your feelings?”

“I haven’t confessed yet, sir. But it’s what I want, that’s why I’m here.”

“And Finn knows? You’re friends with him and Isaiah.” Tommy asked suspiciously.

“I haven’t told Finn either. But it’s not that I was trying to hide anything, quite the opposite…” Liam interrupted himself upon seeing Tommy’s displeased face, his voice growing quieter, and then he knew something had gone wrong — terribly wrong.

He immediately regretted never having had the courage to talk to Finn about it. Maybe his friend would have reacted well, and it would have helped him gain the older brother’s trust.

“Who’s your father, lad?” The question came like a punch in the stomach to Liam, whose shoulders slumped under an invisible weight.

“I never knew him. He left when I was little, sir. It’s just me and my sick mother.”

Tommy took a deep breath, a trace of empathy showing on his expression, but pity wasn’t going to help you at all.

The Shelby stood up from his chair, taking a few steps to stand in front of the younger. Tom leaned against the desk, reflecting on Liam’s audacity. Despite not having a surname or possessions, he seemed to care about you enough to at least try. But he couldn’t be so reckless as to give credibility to this boy.

“Byrne”, Tommy said his name like a sentence. “I must admit, you’re more honorable than most of the men I’ve seen interested in her. None of them came to me first.” He pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, inhaling the smoke before exhaling it. “But you’d be very foolish if you thought I would allow such a thing.”

Hearing that made Liam feel something breaking inside, as if his heart was a coffee bean, destined to be ground into tiny pieces. He processed Thomas’s last words with unusual speed, and the desperation hit him violently.

In all rationality, he wouldn’t have stood up the way he did, and he wouldn’t have used the tone of voice he used.

“Mr. Shelby, I can be good for her,” the boy said almost pleadingly. “I’m not asking to marry her, that’s up to her to decide. I just want your permission to act on how I feel.”

“Act on how you feel? You’ve chosen dangerous words.” Tommy approached him with a calculated fury, placing his index finger, where now he also supported the cigarette, on Liam’s face. “I’ll tell you one thing, Byrne, I know exactly how most lads your age feel, I was one of them.”

Liam became serious, realizing the malicious tone and gravity of the accusation. His eyes flashed with indignation, and he shook his head several times, as if denying a crime before a judge.

“It’s not like that, sir. My reasons are pure. I’m a religious man, my mother raised me with virtues.”

“You’d be surprised what I’ve seen religious men do to women, Byrne. In the end, they’re no different from dogs in heat, hungry, devouring with their eyes pure girls, just like they do with the whores in brothels.” Tommy’s tone remained sharp, like a blade ready to cut. “Now, get out of my sight.”

Liam’s stomach churned in nausea. He wasn’t innocent; he had overheard many dirty conversations between the dock workers, full of insults and statements that challenged even the limits of morality, but he never thought he’d hear something so rude when he walked through the door. A death threat would’ve been less impactful.

His bright irises swept over Thomas’s, looking for a weak spot, a sign that he might change his mind. But it didn’t happen. A strong realization hit him like a bucket of cold water, and all the hope he had seemed childish. Liam kept his lips firmly closed, his expression still impassive, and nodded in defeat.

Coward — he thought of himself for giving in so easily. But he should’ve known that a mere conversation or request wouldn’t be enough. He wouldn’t be enough; because you deserved someone far better, someone your brother could trust and rest assured, because he could give you the comfort and life you should have.

“Excuse me.” He asked, going to retrieve the coat he had left resting on the chair.

Tommy watched him like an eagle as he opened the office door, only to find Finn on the other side. Liam froze, staring at his friend, who wore a beastly expression, as if he were going to kill him right then and there.

“My sister?” Finn sounded aggressive, just as he looked, but there was a second feeling behind it, a hint of disappointment. He had heard everything from behind the door as soon as Polly told him his friend was here.

“Finn…” Liam said the name carefully, but it seemed to be the trigger Finn needed to attack him.

Finn threw a punch, not caring that he was taller or stronger, and Liam didn’t dare to fight back — out of respect.

He was aware of the risk of coming here and fully understood the reaction, but still wasn’t prepared to take a beating from someone so close. Byrne wanted to shout that he wasn’t trying to stab him in the back, that he didn’t want to be discourteous to him and his family, but it was difficult to speak.

“Finn!” Tommy yelled, needing to grab both of his younger brother’s arms, who still wanted to attack.

Liam got up without much difficulty, but his nose was bleeding. He composed himself slowly, ready to offer an apology, when Finn started yelling:

“Get the hell out of here, you bastard!” He said, his face red with rage as he spat at his friend or ex-friend’s feet. “If I catch you looking at her, I’ll kill you, you fucker!”

“Leave.” Tommy said, almost like advice, which Liam didn’t dare disobey.

He immediately walked into the hallway, trying to stop his nose from bleeding as he passed two people. Liam felt bad for not being able to say goodbye to the lady who welcomed him, or at least give a brief introduction to the man next to her, he just hurried to avoid them trying to help.

Polly and Arthur stared wide-eyed at the boy, who was leaving a trail of blood behind him, and exchanged looks when he went out the front door.

“Jesus Christ.” Polly murmured, following Arthur urgently towards the shouting in the office.

[themultifandomgal]

Isaiah Jesus- We’re Getting Married

When I told my brothers that Isaiah and I were getting married, they were not happy. I am the youngest Shelby, as Arthur puts it 'our baby sister'. Thankfully though my brothers came around and now here I stand smoothing down my dress as Esme places my vail in my hair

"You look beautiful YN" Lizzie gushes

"Thank you, but so do you both" I look at Esme and Lizzie through the mirror in front of me

"Ready?"

"Yeah" I smile turning around to Lizzie

"I'll go let Arthur know" she says leaving the room. A few minutes later Arthur knocks the door with his hand over his eyes

"We're all decent you can come in" I tell him. He takes his hand away and I can already see the tears in his eyes "don't cry because you'll make me cry"

"I'm sorry. It's just... my baby sister is getting married"

"Ok no smudging the makeup" Esme says stopping both me and Arthur from crying

"I think Isaiah is waiting" Lizzie places her hands on her hips

"Your right. Come on" Arthur holds his arm out for me to take.

As I wait for the doors to open to reveal Isaiah I start fidgeting

"Don't be nervous"

"I'm not. I'm excited. I love him Arthur"

"I know you do" finally the doors open and in walk Lizzie and Tom, then Esme and John. Then in walk my bridesmaids and finally Arthur walks me to Isaiah who's stood at the end of the aisle looks so freaking good. I notice he's got a tear running down his smiling face which cause me to cry a little. Arthur gives Isaiah my hand then kisses my cheek before taking his seat next to the rest of my family

"Welcome" the priest starts "today we are here to witness the marriage and bond between YN and Isaiah. Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor each other for as long as you both shall live?"

"I do"

"I do" we both respond

"Before we start. Is there anyone here who has reason that these two should not marry?" Thankfully neither Isaiah or I have to be nervous about anyone standing up "since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church" Isaiah and I hold hands

"I, take you , to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you all the days of my life" Isaiah says looking into my eyes. I repeat what he says

"May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfillment his blessings within you. What God has joined, let no one put asunder. May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church, so that what God joins together, no one may put asunder. receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit. Who has the rings?" The priest asks. Charlie steps forward with both of our rings. Isaiah then takes my left hand

"Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the Holy Spirit" he then places the ring on my finger. I repeat

"Now let us humbly invoke God's blessing upon this bride and groom, that in his kindness he may favor with his help those on whom he has bestowed the Sacrament of Matrimony. In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife! You may now kiss" the room is filled with applause while Isaiah and I share a kiss.

It's now the after party at the Garrison and I've changed into something a little more comfortable so I can dance in. Isaiah and I had our first dance then Arthur clears his throat

"Can I have everyone's attention" I take Isaias hand in mine "I'd like to raise a toast to my sister and now brother in-law. Now when you first starting courting I wasn't happy" this makes us all laugh "in all seriousness though, I saw the way YN looked at you and the way you looked at her. It's a love that can't be ignored. I can't wait to see where life takes you both, but no babies yet I'm still not recovered from this wedding" again this makes everyone laugh "to YN and Isaiah"

"To YN and Isaiah" everyone shouts before we all take a sip of the champagne. I turn to my now husband and look up at him

"I love you"

"I love you too" he leans down and kisses my lips.

[evita-shelby]

Beware the Ides of March!

Grab your knives and togas and join me on this Tumblr Holiday where we celebrate the murder of Julius Caeser.

🥖send a prompt for a moodboard or a fic where the only requirements are: must have a murder, a knife, and/or a party

🍷 write a fic or a moodboard with the same requirements from the list above

🫒 let's play Caption This! Send a gif or picture of a character(ocs welcome!) And I'll supply the caption. You can also send the caption and i will find the gif or picture

🗡 the Gladiator Arena: send me a poll and the participants and let's see who wins the fight!

Won't be restricting myself to just peaky characters, every character I've written for be it a cillian murphy character, BBC's World on Fire and now, Masters of the Air

Masterlist

[forevercillianmurphy]

im sorry, tommy shelby.

- warnings: death, swearing, violence.

- word count: 3.7k

- my own timeline since I haven’t watched past season 2 lol

- Tommy x oc sister !

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

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.

˚ · .·˚

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.

˚ · .·˚

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.

˚ · .·˚

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.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

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

[cassie48]

•Safe and sound•

Pair: oc x Thomas shelby (platonic)

Warning: attempts of kidnapping, violence, crying, use of a gun

𝗥𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗯𝘆 𝗹��𝘃𝗲𝗱 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗲𝘁, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗯𝗶𝗿𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗵𝗮𝗺, 𝗰𝗮𝗻 𝗯𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗼𝘂𝘀. 𝗟𝘂𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

Rose shelby was an energetic six year old. She loved horses, dolls, her aunt and her older brothers. Tommy was her favorite, though she wouldn’t dare tell the others. He was like a father to her, because she didn’t even know her real father properly. She didn’t remember her brothers very well before the war, but when they returned home, it’s like she remembered them instantly.

This morning she woke up with one thing she was determined to do.

All the Shelby family were sitting at the table eating breakfast, when suddenly they heard light footsteps coming from the stairs.

“Tommy”? Questioned little rose.

“I’m here rose” thomas answered his little sister. She ran straight to him with a smile on her face. The hugged his leg then reached her arms up. This is what she did when she wanted to be picked up.

“Come on” thomas said placed his sister in his arms.

“What do you want for breakfast rose”? Thomas asked the six year old.

“I don’t mind” said the girl.

“Here rose have the end of my bread” Ada, her sister says.

Thomas walked over to the table and placed little rose on one of the chairs. “Morning sleepy head” said her aunt polly.

“Morning pol” said rose, while eating her breakfast. She greeted her other brothers and finished her meal.

“Polly? Can I ask you something” Said the girl.

”sure love” answered her aunt.

“Please please please let me play with my dolly’s on the street” the girl asked with a pleading look on her face.

“You know Tom doesn’t like you doing that missy” Polly said with a knowing look.

“But he’s at the pub. Please pol please” she begged.

“Fine, but only for an hour”, she said sternly

The girl quickly ran to get dressed and picked out her dolls. She always wanted to do this, but Tommy never let her.

“Bye Polly” the girl shouted.

“Be back soon” Polly said.

“Ok” is all the girl said as she headed out the door. She was a little worried that Tommy would be mad at her. He always said that it was too dangerous to play on the street at her age.

The small girl played on the street with her favorite dolls with a huge smile on her face. Suddenly she realised she had to go home, before she got in trouble.She then realised she had lost one of her dolls. She quickly searched the street, but couldn’t find her. So she went around the corner to search there too. Suddenly a huge man came out, towering above her.

“You’re the Shelby girl aren’t you”the man said in a mean voice.

She nodded not knowing what she was getting herself into.

“Come with me, I have a lovely surprise for ya” the man said.

Despite how much rose loved surprises, she was feeling a little frightened right now. “She nodded her head no and said “Tommy wouldn’t like that”. She then turned to walk away.

“Oi, I said your coming with me” the man shouted, grabbing her arm.

“Ow, that hurts”the girl cried, feeling pain in her arm.

This only made the man angrier, as he let go of her arm, a slapped her right cheek.

The girl began to start crying and shouting for her brother.

The man went to grab her again,when suddenly rose saw him get shot in the head.

The girl began to scream until she saw her big brother in front of her.

“Rose, its alright” Tommy said placing his arms around her.

“He was trying to take me Tom” she replied letting out a loud sob

“It’s ok, I’m here” he said to her, as he picked her up.

“I’m scared Tom” the girl said with a frown on her face.

“I’m never gonna let anyone hurt you, alright”?he says hugging her tighter

She nodded in his arms, and they went back home together

Safe, and sound.

࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎࿎

𝗧𝗵𝗮𝗻𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘀𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴!

𝗹𝗺𝗸 𝗶𝗳 𝗶 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱 𝗱𝗼 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀💕💕

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter forty

I awoke to an almost undisturbed quiet. My afternoon a haze of exhaustion. For a moment I felt so disoriented, expected to sit up and find myself in my bedroom in the flat I shared with Sonya. Kings Cross station rattling away not so far away. Instead however when I sat up, I saw the lamplight from outside spill through open curtains, pooling at Isaiah's feet the other side of the room.

He was sitting where I had left him, chin resting on his closed fists. His eyes were hooded but not closed and when he heard me stir he looked up at me. Fixed me with a warmer gaze than I was expecting.

"Tommy's gone home," he said, he sounded tired, his voice a little heavy, "him and Arthur, gone back to Birmingham..." He said watching me for a reaction of some kind. One I was determined he wasn't going to get.

"So we're staying?" I asked raising my brow, pushing the covers back only to find myself wearing someone else's pyjamas. They were much too big for me, a long sleeve grey top and plaid bottoms tied at the waist. I must have changed into them myself but I could hardly remember now. That wasn't exactly unusual for me though, not when I'd been pushing myself to my limits, wearing myself out.

Isaiah looked like he was about to say something else, like he was about to launch into some kind of speech but just as he opened his mouth did the light fade from his eyes and leave him sighing.

"Aye," he said.

"And I'll be dancing for Sunny?" I asked waiting for him to elaborate. Waiting for him to tell me something more about the circumstances which had seen my brother's give up on me and go home without so much as a goodbye.

"That's really all you care about isn't it..." He smirked, smirked in that way like he really didn't know what else to do with me, not quite despair, more a kind of shrugging of his shoulders. As though he couldn't believe it but was accepting it all the same. "Fuckin hell love.." he sighed.

Of course it wasn't true.

The thought that they could leave so casually, so cooly, whilst I slept through their departure, left a hollow in my chest. A sinking kind of disappointment. And after having claimed to come down here for my safety, because they cared about me, because I was family and family meant unconditional love and mutual respect.

I had to bite the tip of my tongue behind my teeth to control the swell of spite, the hurt which rose up inside me then. When I realised that Tommy had abandoned me. Turned his back on me.

He didn't do that to family lightly, didn't do it at all if he could help it. And now he had me and I knew that that meant I was on my own for good.

"Why didn't you go with him?" I asked, watching Isaiah carefully to try and read his sullen expression. To work out if he'd been given a choice.

"Cause my jobs here int it..." He shrugged, "lookin after you..."

I didn't want to say it out loud, didn't want to say 'not if Tommy's turned his back on me' because that would have sounded so pitiful, would have made me feel so helpless. I couldnt stand the thought of Isaiah seeing me helpless or forlorn, couldn't stand the thought of letting on the hurt my brother had managed to wound me with.

So I didn't say a word.

"Surprised Tommy trusts you..." I said a little later instead. Isaiah had announced that he was going for a smoke and when I'd shrugged and remained seated on the bed he had smirked and nodded for me to follow him. He'd said he wasn't to let me out of his sight from now on, I wondered who had given him that order and what exactly they'd thought it would achieve. Surely Tommy was smart enough to know if it hadn't helped at Arrow House it wouldn't help here.

"After your little stunt the other day?" Isaiah raised his brow and then shrugged me off. Somehow Tommy and Arthur's visit had restored his confidence. If his ego was wounded he was taking it out on me now with the arrogance of a man who's been told he'd right by all his friends. "Not daft love, you ain't gonna do it again..."

"No?" I asked with a smirk, I felt a little silly stood there challenging him when I was still wearing Alfie's pyjamas, the bottoms tucked into a pair of thick socks, the socks protruding from a pair of ballet slippers soaking up old rainwater in the courtyard.

There was an open window not so far away from us, it belonged to the living room and I could hear the popping of the fire and the occasional whine of a dog. So I knew that Alfie was probably within earshot. Wondered what he thought of my brother's early departure, what he had planned for me now that Tommy had turned his back.

"Nah," said Isaiah, "you heard your brother didn't you, told me to let you fuckin do it if you try again..." I wondered whether that made him feel a little sick to say it. To remind me of my brother's cruelty. Because it made me feel a little sick to hear him say it, to be reminded of the way he'd so easily entertained the idea.

"You're not my big brother though are you Saih," I said with a forced little grin, "you'd never let me, you don't have the balls..."

"Ain't about me balls Sylvia," he said, "it's about me patience..."

I cracked a laugh at that, shook my head.

"Everything's about your balls Saiah..." I said rolling my eyes at him and turning away.

"Oh ha ha..." He sneered as he took another drag on his cigarette and exhaled not bothering to mind the direction he blew his smoke. The sigh of it tangling in my hair.

I knew it would have done him pleased to see me cough and scrunch my face up so I didn't. Instead I held his gaze and held my smirk, stubborn and fixed, eyes still sparkling with a quiet spite as I watched him take another drag. With my arms folded across my chest I maintained eye contact until he was forced to break it. Letting me down when instead of rising to my quiet challenge he turned away from me and flicked his cigarette into the dark of the courtyard.

"I'm going inside now it's cold." I said quieter than before. I didn't wait for him to turn around or offer me a response before I turned my back on him.

But when I did he let me, let me walk back into the house on my own. I'd been expecting him to try a little harder than that to keep his word to my brother.

I kept that in mind when I took a left in the hallway and pushed the door to the living room open gently instead of turning to retreat back up the stairs.

I could hear music playing quietly, recognised it as being the music I had danced to for Alfie the day before. Alfie was reclining across the sofa, his feet kicked up on the arm, one hand behind his head as he peered through a little pair of glasses at the pages of a book he held before him. He didn't look the part, not really. In his grey joggy bottoms and his long sleeve black pyjama top. He didn't look at all like someone who should be reclining fireside listening to Swan Lake, reading a classic. But with Cyril resting peacefully on the rug just beneath him, that's exactly what Alfie was.

When I closed the door to behind me and let myself lean back against it, the click of the door pulled him away from his book. He didn't move his head but he let his eyes wander over me for a moment. As his gaze returned to the lines of his book he let out a dramatic little sigh.

"Bedtime story poppet?" He asked with a smirk, "that what you're lookin for?"

I was quiet for a moment, a little uncertain as to whether or not he was taking the piss or making a serious offer. Not that I'd have known what to say if he had been making a serious offer.

"Isaiah says my brothers have gone home," I started, watching him for any tell tale signs.

He continued to read for a moment, his lips moving silently as his eyes moved over the page. When I remained standing there, leaning against the door with my hands behind my back he paused once more. Let his eyes return to linger on me for a moment longer.

"Yeah poppet," he said dismissive at first, softening on his repeat as he sat himself up and leant forward, elbows digging into his thighs. He held his chin in his hands as he looked at me with a flicker of sympathy pooling in his dark eyes, "yeah poppet thats right they have, they've gone home yeah..."

"So I'm staying here?"

"Yeah," he nodded with a little downward smirk, "as far as I understand that is what your brother intends yeah, for you... to stay here... with me..." He held the book open over his hand, two fingers splitting the pages to the spine as he nodded along with me. His eyes fixed on me then.

"Good," I said doing my best not to betray myself. To hide any sense of betrayal or scorn I may have felt. "So tomorrow I can go to my rehearsals?"

He paused as if to weigh the options in his mind but I already knew what he would say. He smirked and nodded his head.

"Yeah well, I spose you can can't you, that is after all what you've wanted to do all along ain't it... Dance, at your rehearsals..."

"Isaiah will take me..." I started to say, cut off before I could finish my sentence or realise that the flicker of uncertainty which had crossed my eyes had been noted.

"If that's what you wish my girl..." He said scratching his chin, watching me closely, a smirk at play in his eyes.

"It's what my brother wants."

"Yeah," he nodded again, his voice a little too level and a little too quiet for my liking. I knew not to settle down, not to get too comfortable. "Yeah that is what your brother wants ain't it, ain't you a clever girl Sylvia, know what everybody wants don't you..."

And there it was, the turn in his tone. The darkening. I held his gaze, swallowed carefully. Made certain to breathe soft and slow so as not to disturb the air around me.

"Tell me little Sylvia, you ever wondered what it is I want?" He let his question linger in the air for a moment, raised his brow and pretended he was waiting for me to speak, "yeah, you ever wondered what mean and miserable old Alfie wants?"

I bit the tip of my tongue and waited for him to continue but this time he didn't and I realised a moment too late that he'd been expecting an answer after all.

"Nah," he sighed, "didn't think so... Come here yeah, no no come on I mean it poppet you come here now yeah..." He beckoned me over with one hand, stood up when I appeared to hesitate. But when he said it again I didn't make the same mistake twice. "C'mon Sylvia, I ain't gonna hurt you..."

I rolled my eyes, gave him my best insolent little smirk and pushed away from the door crossing the rug towards him. When I stopped just in front of him he looked down at me with satisfaction, nodded his head and said, "yeah, that's better... Doin as your told yeah, much better poppet."

"So?" I asked deciding that I wasn't going to wait or play along as he clearly wanted and thought I would. "Are you going to tell me then?"

"Am I gonna tell you what?" He asked, a vacant flicker in his eyes as if he really had lost his train of thought.

"What you want." I said plainly, my eyes fixing his as I refused to back down. Refused to shrink away from the shadow he cast.

"Oh right yeah, that... Well that's pretty simple actually poppet, what I want yeah, is for someone half capable to be tasked with escortin you here there and everywhere..."

"Tommy thinks Isaiah is capable."

"Yeah? And what about you sweetheart, you trust him do you?" He asked, his words needling at me, trying to slip beneath my skin and stitch his words in.

"Yeah."

He raised his brow but he didn't contradict me, didn't scold me or chide me, didn't tell me not to lie to him. I wondered whether he could tell my uncertainty, whether he could sense that I'd only said I trusted Isaiah because I knew loyalty to the family was first and foremost, in any situation. Even if I didn't trust him, I had to trust in the family.

Alfie didn't say anything then, instead he simply nodded his head and sat back down, let himself sink dramatically into the cushions and comfortable. I watched him as he stretched his arm out along the back and then gestured to me with the book he held open still. He'd kicked his feet up on the foot rest which stood between us and he sat there then looking up at me expectantly.

"Sit down poppet," he said, "Our dear Ruthie's making you an 'ot chocolate..."

"I don't..." I started to say, a frown on my brow when he cut me off gesturing rather lackadaisically with his hand as I'd to swat the thought away.

"You're gonna drink it," he said, "cause you missed your dinner an also, because me an you have a deal, don't we treacle..."

I looked back at him unimpressed, my arms folded across my chest. My lips a straight line.

He just raised his brow at me, knowing he didn't need words to remind me of my promise to him. The quiet he let us linger in reminding me of the mercy he had shown me in that hospital room. The care with which he'd held me close so that I could cry without being seen. That alone was enough to remind me why I'd made him a promise in the first place.

So I did as I was told once again. Sat myself down on the other end of the sofa, tucked my knees beneath my chin and turned to face Alfie. I let my body sink sideways against the back of the sofa and eventually, as I felt myself begin to relax, I let my head follow too. Watching him from the far end of the sofa, my lashes fluttering with the weight of the sleep I longed to return to.

"Now," he said with a little more drama than he needed to, "are we sittin comfortably?"

I smirked and let him see it, let him see the fondness there. Wasn't sure why I was letting him watch me warm up to him in real time like that. In a way that made me so vulnerable at exactly the time when I needed to be my most resolute. But perhaps that was exactly why. Because my brother had left me with no other option.

"Then I shall begin...."

He was reading Dracula and I couldn't help but smirk when I recognised the laconic drawling sentences of Johnathon Harker's journal. We'd studied the book in school and whilst my sister had enjoyed picking it apart, reading into the symbolism, I had been too easily lulled by the rhythm of those endless descriptions to read into anything.

Now, as Alfie read aloud, despite his theatrical reading, I could feel my eyelids grow heavy once more. The story like a haunted lullaby. With the crackle of the fire, the heat from it rosying my cheeks, and the lethargy of the nap I'd barely pulled myself from before I'd drifted into the older man's sitting room, it was a struggle to stay awake.

And yet I wanted to stay awake.

There was something about him which held me captive, something curiously enticing about him. He fascinated me, something about his supposed madness, the way he leant into it like a permanent performance of his heart, drew me in. Made me want to observe him carefully so as to pick him apart. So as to spy the truth in him if there was any truth to spy.

When Ruth came in pushing a tea trolley that would have been more at home in an 80s dollshouse than it was in Alfie's living room I did as I knew they were both hoping and accepted the drink. Held the mug in both my hands beneath my chin, the steam rising to my lips and nose as I cradled the heat and let it warm me through.

It was one of those things, so commonplace an action, that brings you back to yourself, back into your body. Let's you know where and who you are and exactly how you really feel.

And how I felt was cold and tired. Emotionally dragged over stones. As if I were covered in all these little cuts and scratches. No serious damage done in any one place, but over all torn up. And I knew why.

And as I took a sip of my hot chocolate and met Alfie's gaze by mistake, I knew that he knew too. Swallowed down disappointment with the saccharin drink because I knew I shouldn't have betrayed myself and yet I had so easily. One look into my Shelby eyes had told him everything he needed to know.

I'd wound up feeling so desperately alone.

Tommy

We didn't drive straight home. It would have been better to, would have been better to return to the children, to the girls. The twist of regret in my gut was knowing that perhaps it wouldn't be a comfort to any of them when we returned. They needed us there and all of them knew it but whether they wanted us there was a different matter.

For Esme I would be the shadow over the moon, thick grey clouds returning to the night sky, the last clot across the stars. For Ada I was chains. For Polly I was the cold breathing beneath the crack of the door. And for Sonya, though it pained me to admit it, I was nothing but a cruel stranger, a haunting. A sharp and unforgiving reminder of the family we used to share but didn't share anymore. I knew that for a fact because that was how it felt for me to look upon those two girls.

We didn't go straight home. First we went to the hospital where Michael was being watched over by two of Alfie's men. Though I'd been cynical of his retelling of the events which had earlier that day lead to my little sister threatening several lives, I could believe there to be some truth to the story. Looking at the bleak grey corridor with it's jellied salmon coloured walls, the relentless huff and hum of the oxygen machines, I could believe that our men had been wanting for a distraction. That they might have wearied in the gloom. But I couldn't bring myself to believe him entirely. Couldn't bring myself to picture my little sister and the hateful way she might have demanded a shot at killing them herself.

If I were to believe Alfie and all his little embellishments, I would need to believe that not only had some of my lads been sleeping on the job, but also that my youngest sister had been half way to murdering them in the halls. Tearing them apart just as fiercely as Arthur out of control in the ring.

And I couldn't bring myself to believe that our little Sylvie was as feral as all that. Wasn't about to let myself believe that that kind of insanity ran simply in our blood. She wasn't an animal, she wasn't as disturbed and detached as she had wanted my to believe when she'd looked me dead in the eye, standing so still and unphased by the threats to her own life, even when I made them so freely.

If she was then there was no saving her. I couldn't believe in a version of her I couldn't save.

"Wait in the car," I told Arthur as we stopped two streets back from the hospital.

"Wanna see him too Tommy..." Started Arthur though it only took one look from me to see him silent.

He was already too shaken up from an evening at Solomons' house, five minutes with an unconscious Michael and any other guests might see him tipped over the edge.

"Don't let your guard down Arth," I said patting his cheek once, offering him a short brotherly smile to steady his resolve.

He just sat there, vape between his teeth, a packet of cigs toyed half out his pocket before I'd even closed the door. He was a nervous sack of bones, all wound up and ready to crumble or rip someone else to shreds. It worried me to leave him armed but I had no choice. If the Italians were watching us, waiting to ambush us, then he needed to be armed. If they weren't and nothing happened then nothing happened. I'd return to my brother to find him half a pack of cigs down and biting down on a dead vape. It was the third option that worried me.

So I didn't look back as I walked away, long coat to shield me from the cutting London cold. I left him in the locked car and tried not to think about the mess I might return to if everything didn't all go to plan.

And when I found Michael's room I found it being watched by two lads sitting either side of the door. They seemed about as alert as anyone could possibly manage to be when sitting bored out their brains in a hospital waiting area, but at the sound of my footsteps their eyes snapped up and I smirked, pleased at least that I wouldn't have to cause the same scene little Sylvia had apparently been gunning for.

"No changes sir..." Said one of them, glancing over his shoulders as if to peek round at my sleeping cousin.

"No," I said, nodding a quiet down turned smirk as I passed the young lad by and stepped inside my cousins room.

He wasn't sleeping. He was comatose. The agonised whirr of his oxygen the only thing keeping him holding on.

The sight of him probably would have been sickening if I hadn't seen so much worse during the war. I couldn't help but wonder what it had done to Sylvia to see him like this. Perhaps it had been the sight of Michael in stitches, chest moving almost artificially as if only pretending to breathe, which had knocked the last shred of humanity out from behind her eyes. Perhaps it had been the hopeless jaundiced shade of his skin, how every inch of him seemed swollen and bruised and yet drained of blood and life, how corpse like he looked despite the beat of his heart on the monitor. Perhaps it had been this silent horror which had left Sylvia seeming ghostly and hollow herself.

I had to tell myself it was shock which gripped her. That Alfie was wrong about her. Needed to know that Alfie was wrong. That she wasn't like me at all.

"You look worried Tommy..." He'd said to me as we stood over Sylvia's sleeping figure. She looked so peaceful beneath that yellow blanket, her hair sleek and swept out of her still features. She looked so young and so gentle.

I hadn't said a word, just watched her. Just waited for him to carry on.

"Ain't a good look for men like you an me is it mate..."

"Better to know the noose around your neck..." I had said adjusting my shirt collar and turning away from her. I hadn't expected him to let me walk away and or turn my back on her. He didn't. Not straight away anyway.

"Maybe so Tommy but it ain't no good telling everyone else about it either... Know what the great British public are like, fuckin love a public execution don't they... The whole bloody country'll turn out if you let 'em..."

And though he might have been trying to speak in riddles again his meaning had been perfectly clear to me.

That not every enemy we shared knew the extent of the trouble my family were in. That closing ranks with such a tyrannical urgency would only alert our enemies to the true extent of our sudden loss of control. That if we wanted to win this war, we were going to have to pretend we weren't already losing.

So although it might have gone against all my better instincts leaving Sylvia in his care had really been my only option.

Now as I stood looking down at Michael's barely reanimated corpse I felt the gravity of that very fact weighing me down.

There was no world in which you could describe Alfie Solomons as a good man and yet in this one I had to believe in a slither of good like a streak of silver running through his black heart.

Mostly I had to believe in his brains. Had to believe he wasn't stupid enough to sell his better ally down the river for a quick buck. If he was making deals with the Italians he'd be their next target, I had to believe he wasn't so stupid as to not know this.

I was disturbed by a nurse. Her gentle knock on the door drew me out of my grave thoughts and when I looked up and turned my head to the door she offered me a small "forgive me" smile.

"Just come to check up on your cousin Mr Shelby," she said her voice warm, she hadn't lost the softness yet, the smile in her voice. Hadn't forgotten how to offer comfort in the face of death. Hadn't hardened with time or gone cold the way most women do when they've been working in hospitals too long.

"Should imagine he's not changed since you last saw him..." I said with a tight closed lipped smile.

"Well," she said, "only saw him an hour ago, shouldn't imagine I've changed much since then either..."

I smirked at that. Couldn't help but note the pretty way she looked when her eyes flickered with that cheeky little light. I wondered how old she was, wondered just how long she'd been treating men like my cousin.

I watched as she spoke to him quietly, all sweet and "hello Michael, it's me Hannah, sorry about all the fuss eh, I'll be done in a minute..." Thought it was a happy little touch the way she seemed to believe he could hear her, or if she didn't, at least wanted to comfort me with the idea that perhaps he could hear her.

"Whats that you're doing there?" I asked quietly, a little uncertain though I felt stupid for showing quite how easily she'd sparked my nerves when she'd began messing with his syringe driver.

"Just checking everythings in order," she offered me a small smile, "and don't you worry Mr Shelby everything is in order... All running smoothly. Your cousin's on a steady dose of morphine and oxycodone... Has anyone updated you on Michael's condition?"

"No," I shook my head, "not exactly... First time in seeing him so... Not much opportunity uh, unfortunately..."

"Oh, well..." She started, "sorry Mr Shelby I didn't realise you'd not visited before, I can uh... I can get a doctor if you'd like to speak to them..."

"No no," I said swallowing a lump in my throat, I wasn't sure I wanted to know the details, not from someone as cold and removed as I'd grown to know doctors could be. I didn't really trust people who worked in hospitals, didn't really trust hospitals in general and the longer I spent in this one the more certain I was growing of the fact that I needed to leave. "It's alright, you just tell me what you've got in your notes eh and that'll be fine, don't wanna waste anyone's time... Sure you're doing the best you can for him eh..." I said softly, "call me Tom by the way, no more Mr Shelby, makes me feel like a school teacher or somet..." I tried to force a chuckle but it didn't come and when Hannah looked up at me I could tell she'd sensed my discomfort.

"Oh well, okay if you're sure, you really wouldn't be wasting anyone's time though Tom..." She started but when I shook my head and sat down she trailed off, came to sit-down beside me to explain her notes.

And she was ever so sweet about it, trying her best not to sugar coat but not to let me lose hope. Telling me that although Michael had been placed under a medically induced coma when he'd first come in, he was already showing signs of waking. Perhaps he hadn't opened his eyes yet or spoken, but there had been little finger flexes here and there and he'd been awake enough to express discomfort in the night.

"Main reason he's as quiet as he is now Mr Shelby is cause of the medication, he's on a high dose of morphine to manage his pain and the side effects of that can be very tiring, but he is only sleeping now Tom, and he really is on the mend... I can't tell you how well or how quickly he'll recover cause I ain't a doctor but..."

"He'll be alright," I said nodding my head, looking up from where I sat with my chin resting on my locked fingers. "Thank you Hannah, appreciate the honesty."

"Well I ain't allowed to lie Tom," she said with a soft smile but I just shook my head.

"You wouldn't be the first nurse to try it though would you, thinkin it might make it easier, a little white lie eh?"

"You sound like a seasoned visitor..."

"Aye love," I nodded, "could say that..."

I wondered then whether she knew who it was she was attending to, whether she recognised me. Perhaps not.

"Well," she said, "hopefully once your cousins on his way home I won't be seeing you again eh?" She said with a kindness in her smile as she rested her hand on my shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "You don't mind me going now sir?" She asked, "I'll be back later on to check on Michael again," she added as if she thought perhaps I might be spending my evening here. It left me a little sad to think she might feel a pang of disappointment upon returning to find I'd gone.

I smiled and nodded and told her I'd see her later. Tried to fight off the feeling that I did in fact want to see her later. Tried to fight of the feeling that life truly was so unfair that the one shred of comfort I'd been offered had duties to attend to and rounds to make. That I couldn't keep her to myself for a little while.

She said goodnight to Michael and told him he'd hear her later and when she left she closed the door behind her and I knew she really didn't know who it was she'd been talking to.

The way she left the room so freely, without checking round the corners first. Without checking over her shoulder to make sure I hadn't turned on her the moment she had turned her back. No, this one was innocent, had no idea the danger me and my cousin had brought with us to that little room with it's oxygen machines and morphine. It's clean sheets and grey green linoleum floor.

I stood for a moment over Michael's bed, knowing now that he could hear me, not knowing what to say to him. There were things I knew I could say, love I could promise him, vengeance too. But I didn't say anything like that.

"Your mother's worried about you Michael, don't break her heart eh..."

Perhaps it wasn't the right thing to say but those were the only words I could conjure for him and I knew that if Sylvia had been in earlier he'd have already had the tears and the love yous he needed.

So I left him with nothing but that warning, and when I left I offered the lads looking after him a little encouragement, something to keep them on side. And then I returned to my big brother in the car and found him exactly as I'd hoped to.

Half a pack of cigs down, chewing on a dead vape.

"One last place to go brother," I sighed, "then home..."

Sylvia

"So there we go..." Sighed Alfie a little later after he had meandered through a chapter or two of the book, "poor little Lucy eh, sounds like she's havin a dreadful time."

"I wouldn't be so sure..." I said with a little smirk as I dared to meet his gaze for a moment, long enough to betray my meaning at least.

"You're thinking of the films little dove," he chuckled, "nah in this story she's got nothin but horrors..."

"I don't agree..." I said with a shrug, sitting myself up though I didn't really want to.

The living room was warm, just about too warm, and the glow of the fire had lulled me half to sleep. The lullaby effect of the smoke, the dim orange of the lamp, the only other light in that high ceilinged room. The shadows cast by the fire holding me in some kind of almost dream.

Alfie nodded, said hmm, but didn't contradict me and then as he placed the book down on the rug he turned back to me. His voice as warm as the room and the fire when he spoke.

"Well," he said, "reckon all this has served it's purpose now ain't it..." He said, his eyes lingering on my sleepy expression. My languid limbs curled up beneath the blanket. "Reckon you're feeling a little better now ain't you...being read to right, it's meant to be very good for the soul yeah, meant to nurture a sense of security and peace right, sposed to stimulate all the right parts of the brain for good sleep yeah and... It's theorised by some experts right, that it helps to build a trusting bond between the reader yeah and the listener." He said without leaving me a moment to confirm. Instead he pushed himself up, grumbling to himself about his back as he went, and then he stopped just before me and offered me his hand. "So you'll sleep better tonight won't you, might actually get some rest yeah, some much needed REM right? And in the morning you'll wake up and you might not feel so ghostly yeah?"

"Perhaps," I said quietly, feeling as though I ought to be thanking him for something though I wasn't sure what. Feeling as though it wasn't enough simply to take his hand and let him steer me to the living room door. Still, that was all I did.

"Now me yeah, I won't be up for a little while yeah, got some business things to attend to right, coupla calls to make you know... Boring stuff really but tomorrow morning I will drive you and the khamer to your rehearsal alright and I will also personally be there to pick you up and bring you home again right?"

"Thank you Mr Solomons," I said relieved to find he'd given me something to say after all. Stifled when he shook his head and told me again not to call him that.

"Ain't got a complex little dove, Alfie yeah, that's my name an that'll do just fine alright?" And this time when I nodded he smiled and I thought he might let me go but he didn't.

He didn't say anything but something bristled between us and I could tell that he wanted me to remain still. To wait for him a moment, let him take his time. But as I was standing there in the darkened hall I felt the day catching up to me, the pull of sleep weighing me down. I tried to swallow down a yawn but it rose up all the same and when I tried to hide it behind my hand I caught him smiling softly, privately as if only to himself.

"One last thing before you go," he said, "this yeah, this is one of my conditions right?"

I frowned uncertain exactly what condition he thought he was laying out.

"Reading," he confirmed when he saw the crease on my brow and the downward turn of my lips, "don't care what you want to do with your afternoons yeah little one, but every evening me and you yeah will eat dinner together, and every night before you go on up those wooden hills, you will join me by the fire yeah, and you will listen whilst I read you a little story..."

"You want to spend your evenings reading me Dracula?" I raised a brow, not entirely sure I understood what he thought all this would achieve. A level of control over me I supposed. A way to make sure I wasn't wasting away? A way to keep me and Isaiah apart for as much time as he could? A way to get me on his own so that he could manipulate me into trusting the wrong man?

"Well, reckon we'll finish that in no time poppet, an then I'll let you choose... Your big brother seems pretty certain he'll have those nasty Italians out of the picture soon enough though don't he so perhaps it won't come to that..."

"Fine." I said, holding his gaze as nonchalantly as I could. Hoping he would see that I didn't care either way. Hoping he would know that whatever he was trying to pull I wasn't likely to bite and fall.

"Well then treacle, off you go eh, up to bed with ye..." He said finally dismissing me. Holding my gaze as I let our locked eyes linger for a moment longer just to show him I wasn't scared. Just to show him I wasn't so naive that I didn't know what he was doing. When I didn't move we lingered in the quiet for a moment too long, but it was hard to look away from him once we'd locked like that. His eyes so difficult to tear my own away from. And not because I feared them but because I couldn't find anything to fear in them.

He let out a quiet cough and looked first at the floor and then back over his shoulder at the living room door where through the open crack I could see Cyril dozing on the sofa.

"Go on now poppet," said Alfie his voice gruff and low as he sent me on my way.

I was tired climbing the stairs. The weight of the day, of the evening, the lethargy from my earlier nap, all of it clinging to me, trying to drag me down. I felt as though my legs might buckle at any moment and when I finally made it to my room at the end of the hall I barely noticed the changes.

No Isaiah in his arm chair waiting like a loyal puppy. The lights all out, the curtains left open so that moonlight washed over the room with a silky mist.

It would have been haunted and beautiful if I had been able to keep my eyes open. But I was already thinking of sleep, already half in a dark dream.

And so though I noticed the changes I didn't question them. Didn't think twice about tugging my top over my head and slipping out of the borrowed trackies I had been wearing all day. Didn't think twice about crawling into bed and tugging the covers over me without checking the shadowed corners of the room, without checking the lock on the door or whether there were any monsters beneath my bed...

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[interstellargatorskinboots1812]

Chapter 13: The Rush of Blood

Alfie feels sweat trickling down his back, his eyes lacerate into the interloper in front of him, who dirties and taints the elegant hall as if by osmosis.

Michael McCleary. To Arabella, just a name scrawled in Tommy’s handwriting, but now here he stands, a short and stout man with filth escaping his every pore.

‘You’ve been ignoring my calls and letters, Solomons.’

His Scouse twang echoes strongly in the affluent surroundings.

‘Yeh well there’s a very good reason for that, ain’t there?’

Alfie’s stiff shoulders and heavy-set back, wrap an unwelcome presage around Arabella, as if confirming Tommy’s suspicions that the High Rip gang have prior dealings with her fiance.

Swiping a cocktail from a reluctant waiter, Michael smirks and downs the alcohol. He bites aggressively, with what few teeth he has left,  into the cherry that decorates his glass.

‘I don’t like being ignored you see. It gets me all angsty.’

He putters the cherry stem.

‘Maybe I need to get me a good looking tart like yours? Bet she helps relieve the tension at night, doesn’t she?’

With a filthy leer, Michael flicks the tied stem down Arabella’s cleavage. Reacting almost before Alfie has the chance to form a fist, she pulls back his hand.

‘Stop, think where you are and who is around you. It’s just what this fucker wants. Don’t play into his hands.’

Alfie grunts a response, the blood bouncing in his veins in abundance.

‘She speaks a lot of sense, you should listen to her’.

‘She has a name, you know’.

Michael’s laugh fills the darkening space.

‘Oh I know your name, Ms Arabella Shelby. I know all about you and your family. Modern day Romeo and Juliet, you two are. Star-crossed lovers from opposite ends of the trotting tracks.. .  and well  . . . we all know how that tale ends’.

With a calming composure, Alfie’s bulky shadow casts shade over the Liverpudlian’s pockmarked face.

‘You might be better served expressing your profound views on literature to someone who gives a fuck, mate. You waltz in here thinking you’re a brave lad, when we all know that the only reason you are still stood vertically, thieving my oxygen is because I am choosing not to put a bullet in that thick skull of yours. Now tell me what you’re ‘ere for and then you can fuck off or I will  stick my boot so far up your arse that you’ll fly back to Liverpool and hit the Mersey with a breathless sense of having tumbled like Icarus from the sky’.

Michael’s delusive grin cultivates his face, Alfie’s resolute words land beside him like a grenade with the pin still attached. The malodour of old garbage fires thrives from their unwelcome guest and as foul in her nostrils as it is, Arabella inhales deeply in an effort to slow her breathing.

Michael’s drawing quite the crowd.

‘Alfie is right, make your point and then fuck off’.

‘Bad words from such a beautiful broad- be careful none of these toff-nosed Jews hear it. You wouldn’t want to give the game away.’

Alfie’s eyes slice like the ambiguity in Michael’s rhetoric.

‘Oh don’t worry Solomons, your secrets and skeletons are safe with me. . . for now anyway’.

The twine possessing Alfie’s composure splinters and with a constricting grab of an upper arm, he whips Michael away from prying eyes, with Arabella’s plea of his name falling on death ears and Rubin hot on their tail.

At the main entrance a huddle of elderly Jewish women’s discussion on knitting patterns is firmly interrupted by a grapple they look shocked to be witnessing.

‘Now, don’t you worry about this ladies, I’m just taking out the rubbish’.

Alfie’s tone is jovial, but Arabella can see every vein in his body is amplifying to cardinal proportions.

Taking a sharp right, he hurls them into a deserted back alley, before ricochetting Michael’s back off the cold and damp bricks, making Arabella wince and Michael bellow breathlessly.

Years of fighting and taking back meant dealing with dregs like McCleary was almost autonomous. Despite his incensed demeanour, his brain remains utterly calm, firing off a lightening series of automated responses. A continuous of experience distilled into substance.

A multitude of action happens simultaneously and all before anyone has time to anticipate.

Arabella isn’t sure where he pulled it from, but Alfie is now pivoted firmly in front of Michael, a Webley Mark revolver held unwaveringly on his trigger finger.

‘My boy, no!’ Rubin clamours out as Arabella surges to the end of the alley surveying the surroundings.

‘Shit!’

Her panicked expletive reaches the ears of a well-to-do couple dressed in all their finery. Casting her a scandalised look, the lady tuts an ‘oh really’ under her expensive furs.

Arabella swallows her bottom lip. There is no way a gunshot is to go unnoticed and uninvestigated in these surroundings. She makes a dash back to Alfie, tugging at his arm once again.

‘Alfie, Alfie. . .Alfie, put the gun down’.

His eyes pirouette with torment, his fiance's pleas sequestering to the background. He gently bats away her arm.

‘Sweetie, you might want to stand well back for this one, because when I drop this bullet from it’s resting place the blood and matter that will ascend this little cunt to the heavens will deflect itself all over this pigsty. Now green and red just don’t go together and I’d hate for that dress to be ruined.’

‘Alfie, you need to stop. If anyone hears that thing go off and calls the police . . . he’s not worth that’.

‘My dear boy, Ms Shelby is right, put away that weapon. A man like this is not laudable for the ammunition’.

Ignoring Rubin entirely, Alfie addresses Arabella without ever leaving his attention from the snivelling creature caught firmly in his cross-hairs.

‘Treacle, since my resurrected partnership with your brother, I have no need to worry about the old cop shop. It’s all justifiable housekeeping.’

Arabella glances across to Rubin. Beads of sweat interspersing his forehead catch the oppressive luminosity of the gas light.

Alfie lurches forward pushing the weapon straight into Michael's windpipe with force.

‘Now McCleary, don’t ever think you can come into my world, and take an upper-hand. That ain’t ever gunna happen is it? Did you think I’d let you get away with it, what you thought you’d sensed a weakness in the Israelite?’

‘No need for senses when there’s certainty’.  Michael splutters  through the cold constriction of gun metal. Alfie’s eyebrows shoot up, the lines in his forehead increasing with magnitude.

Driven by instinct, he pushes the barrel of the gun under Michael’s chin as his eyes twitch at his adversary’s cool composure and audacious words  His heart races but his mind is icy.

‘Talk to me about this certainty of yours’. The clicking of his gun cocking into place and his detached tone sounds almost deafening to Arabella in this confined space.

‘Alfie stop! He’s winding you up!’ Her voice going an octave higher.

‘Your uncle, Charles Solomons. He’s an interesting fellow isn’t he? Or at least he has some very interesting cargo that comes through Liverpool docks’.

Arabella hears the gasp Rubin drops at the name Charles Solomons. Alfie’s eyebrows lower and pull even further together as his lip curls.

‘You see Alfie, you might have a hand at what goes through Camden Lock and thanks to this new allegiance with Lady Muck there, you have a finger in the pie at Poplar, but Liverpool and the Albert Dock? They’re mine. I control them and with  no foot hold there for either of your little gangs, I have a lot of leverage in way of your Uncle Charlie’s cargo from Boston.’

Alfie catatonic eyes continue staring at Michael, looking straight through him.

‘Charles Solomons’ business has nothing to do with me!’

Spittle flies from his mouth along with his indignant rumble of words.

‘Funny that because his business of bootlegging, narcotics and the like has certainly bank rolled a lot of your warehouses and labour. How do you think he’d feel knowing his own nephew had a hand in the fallout of his empire eh? Because between me and my lads, we could make it very difficult for his goods to make their destination points’.

The barrel of Alfie’s gun collides with Michel’s cheekbone, splitting the skin wide open. Michael grabs the wound with his hand shouting a series of expletives.

‘Lets say I shoot you right here, right now. In the fucking face. I’d be doing everyone a fucking favour then wouldn’t I? Including my Uncle Charlie.’

‘You can kill me now, but it wouldn’t make a difference. There’s not just me in on this’.

Alfie swallows, the saliva bounding down his throat like poison. How did this fucker, this scruffy backstreet gang member know so much of his business? Alfie didn’t want this fight but it has come looking for him and battle it, he will. His finger tightens on the trigger, snatching at it. But by now, galvanised by the chaos, Arabella steps into the fold.

Alfie turns his head sharply at her, but she doesn’t react. In that second panic sets in. He didn’t panic ever. Panicking got you killed. A straightforward equilibrium. But, just like panic, distraction gets you killed and when he sees her step into the combat zone, his focus goes to keeping her safe. Already, she is becoming detrimental.

Unfazed by the weapon and the weight of the situation, Arabella looks Michael up and down, her eyes set to a primitive gaze.

‘So, that’s your leverage is it?’

‘Arabella, go the fuck back inside!’

Rubin wrings his hands behind them.

‘Ms Shelby, perhaps Alfie is right and you should. .’ Rubin’s attempts to mediate are cut off by Alfie’s growl.

‘Fuck off Bella, Now!’

‘I’m going nowhere! I want to know what Mr McCleary is using Charles Solomons as a bargaining chip for?’

Nursing his bleeding cheek, Michael winks at Arabella salaciously.

‘I mean, you ask all the right questions don’t you babe? If she’s half as good at emptying your balls, Solomons then she’s too worthy for you.’

Alfie’s anger hits crescendo and just as the adrenaline spikes to manipulate his limbs, he feels the soft skin of Arabella’s hand entwine with his around the gun. With a firm grip she pulls the focus of the barrel between McCleary’s legs.

‘I’ve got more than one method for draining balls, now get the fuck out with what it is you want’.

‘Alright sweetheart, as it’s you. You see, us up North we haven’t got it as good as you bastards down here. You Southern ponces have it perfect, business must be booming with everyone’s love for trotting spectacles’.

Arabella rolls her eyes.

‘Fuck sake, you men and your fucking horses! All this is about the tracks!?’

‘The tracks that have got you were you are standing now, love. Well, me any my lads are feeling a bit left out and we reckon it’s about time you did some sharing’.

Alfie pouts at the fanciful fucker in front of him. That thick-lipped mouth of his on display, that Arabella notes makes him look amenable and cordial, hiding the steel that lays beneath the easy smiles.

‘Carry on down the road to Little Italy and you can discuss all this with Darby Sabini -we hear he is in need of allies at the moment’.

Michael grins wide, oozing more blood from the gash to his face. He likes her, shame really when he considers his end game.

‘Oh no Miss Shelby, I’m not in this to share or be a worker bee for any Italian mob cunt. We want space and pitches and with those we will agree to a truce at the Liverpool docks and no more trouble with the cargo of a Mr C Solomons as well as a new trade network at my end.’

‘Fuck your truce! I don’t do fucking truces mate! Don’t think for a single second of your measly,  miserable existence that I would work with a cunt like you. You, yeh, are the lowest and most de sanctified piece of scum and I don’t do deals with men willing to kill the rats that live among them by biting them’.

Either McCleary was mentally deficient or he has more up his sleeve that he can pull out when he wants. Arabella was yet to decide which.

‘Look, how many good-natured businessmen have you lot bullied, hounded and baited for pitches? That’s how it works. Now don’t come the incensed with me when the same thing happens to you’.

Alfie works his way closer into Michael’s space, the gun pushing further into McCleary’s gut with each step.

‘Now, I’ve been very patient of you, considering the circumstances but now your just getting on my last fucking nerve. You come ‘ere to seek me out, you know the road, you know I offer a deal or death. Un-fuckin-fortunately for you mate it’s no deal’.

The sound of a cocking gun fills the expanse around them. Alfie’s eyes knit together as his gun was already rearing to go.

A cold chill fills his body.

As quick as a snake he whips his head in Arabella’s direction. A tall and lanky man with a soot covered face and eyes like piss holes in the snow looms behind her. The same revolver as his own sequestering into the parting of her hair.

‘Well, I did tell you I wasn’t in this alone. What’s say we call a truce that you famously don’t do?’

Alfie’s tongue darts out across his lips to add moisture to his acrid mouth.

‘Take that gun from behind her head now or so help me I’ll paint this alleyway with every ounce of your intestines’.

‘Alright, calm yourself will yeh! Take this gun out of my ribcage and I’ll ask me mate here to throw back your princess once we’ve discussed our bookmaking arrangements for Kempton and Earls Park. We can discuss Epsom when . . . ‘

Smug words drown out to the ear piercing shriek of agony, followed by a gunshot.

Alfie can hear the blood swilling around his ears as they ring. A cold sweat like the ones he experienced in France drapes around him.

Rubin, who has ducked down, cowering like a child to avoid the fired bullet, turns to look at the damage inflicted to the brickwork behind him.

Alfie’s eyes search with frantic need. Never has he felt relief like the kind her green scowl is bringing.

Arabella’s provoked patience melded into fury and flashing her hand from inside her cleavage she had retrieved a flick knife.

McCleary’s cadaverous assailant falls back, nursing his eye socket. His muck filled knuckles struggle to contain the cascade of crimson.

Alfie spots a blood stain growing on the young man’s upper arm. One flow of movement from her had caused the damage.  Alfie didn’t know if he was turned on, worried or infuriated- the dilemma was nauseating. He quickly pulls her arm a little too roughly, placing her behind his frame, an action that makes Michael sneer.

‘There’s part of that weakness of yours, Solomons. A devil always protects his angel’.

‘You are pushing your fucking luck mate!’

Alfie bellows the last three words as they spark a fire in his eyes like every demon and monster laying dormant inside him is suddenly awakened.

‘She’s fucking blinded me, you stupid fucking bitch!’

‘That is just a scratch. Rest assured that I think before I act so had I wanted to blind you then that eyeball would be on the end of my knife edge.’

‘Yeh and make another sound and both your fuckin eyes will be in my next batch of rum, mate’.

Michael keeps his eyes on Alfie. Watching him warily and attempting to second-guess what his next move will be, irritating Arabella to no end. She points at him with the tip of her knife, dripping with red.

‘Let me explain a few things to you. For one, I am not in anyway some hapless princess that gets what she wants through the strong-arming of her brothers. Secondly, should you wish to know where my brothers get their violent tendencies from, it’s from having to try and fight back at a sister who has always been two steps ahead of them. As for the devil, well, even the devil doesn’t know where an angel sharpens their knives’.

Despite the situation Michael’s countenance lifts into a smile that reaches his eyes. He knows he’s playing a dangerous game with Solomons, but now he understood that this broad is more strife than he has given thought to. The only thing left to do is see everything through and watch who would be the victor.

Alfie transfixes a snarl to Michael’s assailant who is using his flea invested blazer to wipe away the blood. He reaches into his pocket sending all eyes to his actions with cautious worry. Pulling out a white handkerchief, he condescendingly tosses it across.

‘Why don’t you wipe yourself the fuck up and then the pair of you can trot on down to the end of this road and fuck off from where you’ve crawled from?’

‘Alright, we’ve said what we need to say, no need to labour the point’.

Alfie’s shoulders hunch. Going without a fight seems suspicious and he can almost feel the charge coming off Michael as he pushes the still drawn pistol in the bakers hand out of his way to saunter to his mate.

‘This isn’t a finished conversation though, Solomons. Earls Park races start in a fortnight and we want in on the pitches and not the shitty cheaper rings that you Jews have been used to before now. We can discuss another meeting in the coming days. Don’t ignore my telegrams this time- I’d hate to come back for your princess’.

‘And she would hate to come back for this fucker’s other eye’.

Arabella spits out through gritted teeth as Alfie once again finds himself squaring back up to Michael with all the menace of a mad man. A dense darkness spiking in his eyes forcing devilry to dance in his pupils. Arabella watches warily through the silence. Maybe all the schemes of the devil were nothing in comparison to what this man could muster up.

In one swift blow, Alfie’s knuckles collide with Michael’s conspirator. The sound of bones crunching fill the space as the gangling lad plummets to the concrete,. Rubin gasps in shock and turns his head to the side, scrunching his eyes as if it would remove him from the situation.

‘That there yeh, is just for starters. Consider it a warning to both of you that children do not belong in a man’s world.  No fucking deal. No fucking meeting. Take your friend and fuck off.’

Alfie steps over the body below him, barging into Michael's shoulder in the process. He holds out his hand to Arabella, which she accepts as they walk off down the narrow space.

‘Before you go anywhere there’s something else you should know’.

Alfie spins around, his expression dripping with malice.

‘What’s that old saying- an eye for an eye? You might want to check on your little right hand man. He got in our way when we were looking for you at that warehouse you use belonging to her brother. Not sure how long it takes to bleed out from a leg wound but he’s already been there quite a while, so I wouldn’t leave it too long.’

Alfie’s brain feels like it’s in overload. They have got to Issiah. He drops Arabella’s hand. With hunching shoulders, he storms back onto the thoroughfare of the street. He needed to get to Issiah and get to him fast. Everything else could wait.

***************************************************************************************

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[wonderlanddreamer]

Okay, so I have 3 things in the works.

[peakyswritings]

Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC

CHAPTER 14 - EPILOGUE OF PART ONE

Summary: All hell has broken loose in the Ferrante household. There’s a choice to be made, and too little time to hesitate.

Warnings: time-typical misogyny, arranged marriage, mentions of forced marriage, mentions of killing, mentions of violence, mention of beatings, a bit of an age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s). This is set between season 1 and 2. English is not my first language.

A/N: nothing for now, but I left a note at the end of the chapter. I got quite sentimental and rambled a bit, so I decided that it would be best to leave it there.

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“According to tradition, they should get married at dawn, before word spreads,” Pietro paced around his father’s office, arms crossed, brain striving to find a solution to the predicament the family had found itself in. “But it’s too late for that.”

He snorted, wiping his face. The lack of sleep was starting to get to him. He hadn’t gone to bed after talking to Nina, he couldn’t imagine trying to sleep while the household threatened to collapse and implode. Moreover, he knew he would find his father awake as well, and he had been waiting for the chance to speak to him alone all evening. The meeting had been nothing but a mess. Everybody was too angry to think or act clearly, and they had accomplished nothing.

“Your uncle Mario has spoken against it,” his father shook his head. “And I can’t blame him. Shelby humiliated Agnese by…” he paused, grimacing. “Engaging with your sister. He wants him dead.”

“Uncle Mario has no head for business. We can’t afford to act out on revenge, not right now. If we listen to him, we’re fucked, you know it too.” Stopping in front of his father’s desk, Pietro rested with his left palm upon the wooden surface, slightly leaning in. “Imagine what would happen. We kill Shelby, we lose our ally against Sabini. And on top of that, we’ll have that mad brother of his seeking revenge,” he said, punctuating his speech with his finger.

“But if we give Nina to Stefano, we’ll seal our alliance with the Spinietta family.”

Pietro scoffed, raising his eyebrows. “The Spinietta family would betray us without a second thought, if that granted them the chance to rise, family or not. You forget Giuseppe Spinietta killed his own brother to take charge of the business. I wouldn’t be surprised if Stefano and Vito followed his example, someday.”

His father tapped his fingers on the desk, squinting his eyes. “So what do you suggest that we do?”

“We get Nina and Shelby married tomorrow, in secret,” he straightened his back. “During the night, or at dawn. Then we put them on the first boat to England.”

His father got up in an abrupt movement, taking a few steps away from his desk. He rubbed his mouth with his palm, pondering. “You want me to turn my back on my own brother?”

“It’s the only way.”

“He’ll never forgive me.”

“He will, when Shelby’s men help us in our war against Sabini.” Pietro crossed the room with long strides, until he was standing in front of him. “If uncle Antonio was here, he’d tell you the same thing.”

“But he’s not here, is he? And I don’t know how happy he’ll be when he finds out we made a decision without consulting him too.”

“Dad, this isn’t about us getting all along,” he said lowly. “This is about us averting a war we don’t need.”

The silence Pietro got in return told him he was finally getting through to him, and it spurred him to go on. He placed his hands on his father’s shoulders, looking him right in the eyes. “I can tell you’re not just worried about uncle Mario. You’re worried about Nina, about sending her away overnight. I am too. But right now, this is the best thing we can do for her. I don’t trust aunt Rita to stay quiet about what happened. If word spreads, she’s ruined.”

His father’s eyes traveled across his face as he took in his words, his expression indecipherable. At that point, Pietro could only hope they’d have the desired effect. Saying more was hazardous, and he had already pushed his luck by talking to him that way.

Long moments passed before his father nodded, more to himself than to him, a bitter smile making its way on his face. Then he affectionately patted him on the cheek. “One day, it’ll be you taking my place. I guess I should start letting you make decisions.”

Nina watched as the first rays of the sun filtered through the lace curtains, hues of amber and violet lightening the dark room. She hadn’t been able to sleep all night, tormented by thoughts of helplessness and guilt. What up until a few hours before had been nothing but a haze had finally taken shape in her mind, forcing her to face the mess she had made. Yet, there was still a missing piece, a doubt that nagged at her brain, a question she just couldn’t find an answer to.

How did it happen? Was there a turning point that had caused the unfolding of that unrelenting chain of events? Or was it a result of something so gradual she didn’t even notice it until it was too late?

Useless musings, she was aware of it. It had happened, no matter when, no matter how. Somewhere along the way, she grew to care for Tommy, and it made her reckless. It made her careless. So careless that she would leave her home, her family, everything she had ever known for the man who her cousin was supposed to marry. She felt like a terrible person for it. God, she was a terrible person. The vicious things she had said to Agnese that afternoon still haunted her. Agnese, who all her life had shown her nothing but kindness. She had ruined everything. For her cousin, for her family, for herself. And the worst thing was, despite the mess, despite the danger, and the risks, and the pain, - she did not regret it. She did not regret him. Because she had never felt more alive than she did with Tommy. When everything was dull and hopeless, he had lit a spark inside her, and that spark had bursted into a flame, and that flame had set her soul on fire. How could she ever regret something like that?

A soft knock on the door cut through her thoughts. Winston promptly raised his little head from his spot next to her, his yellow eyes snapping toward the source of the noise.

“Come in,” she said faintly, so faintly she suspected whoever had knocked couldn’t even hear her. But the door opened, revealing Pietro’s tall frame in the semi-darkness.

“I have just finished speaking to dad,” he said gravely, taking a few steps inside the room. He was still dressed as the previous night, and from the tired look on his face, Nina could tell he hadn’t closed an eye, just like her.

She anxiously scanned his features in search for a shift, a clue she could read to get her answer. But his expression was cold as stone. “And?” she enquired, fidgeting with her own fingers.

Pietro exhaled deeply through his nostrils, placing his hands on his hips. “He agreed,” he nodded, fixing his gaze on a point straight in front of him. “You’re marrying Shelby.” There was no inflection in his voice, nothing that could betray whatever emotion he might be feeling.

Nina’s breath caught in her throat. She blinked, letting his words hang in the air, afraid that it was only a trick or her own imagination, a counterfeit reflection of her hopes. “Are you serious?”

Her brother shifted his dark eyes on her, giving her a single nod. “Yes.”

Yes. Her father had said yes. A wave of relief washed over her, and she felt like she had been given back the air taken from her a few hours before. Tommy was safe. He’d be fine. They’d both be fine. She rubbed her eyes with her hand, holding back the sudden tears that had gathered. She hated feeling so emotional, so weak, but she couldn’t help it. And as the realisation sank in, something else came to the surface. Fear. Until that moment, marriage had been nothing more than a distant hypothesis, a possibility, a chance. Now it was awfully real, with all its implications, and risks, and consequences. Because it didn’t matter how strong her feelings for Tommy were, she had no certainties. She was jumping into the void not knowing where she’d land.

The mattress sank beside her, and a warm hand rested on her shoulder. “Chi fai, chianci?” Pietro taunted her, his tone softer, but still bearing a hint of reproach. (What are you doing, you’re crying?)

“No,” she sniffled, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Letting his hand fall, he leaned with his back against the wall, his shoulder brushing against hers. For a while, neither of them spoke. There wasn’t much to say. She had brought trouble upon the whole family, she knew that, he knew that. Nothing they could say could undo what she had done, no amount of anger and resentment could make them go back and change it. And Nina had already paid enough. The split lip their father’s heavy hand had left her with was proof of that.

It was Pietro who broke the silence. “If two months ago someone had told me you’d offer to marry a man just to save him I wouldn’t have believed them.”

Nina shook her head, the shadow of a smirk playing on her face. “Me neither.”

“You were supposed to do something more.”

Those words came like a stab. There was no malice in them, just pure, painful truth. A truth everyone around her had forced her to forswear, to lock away in a drawer as yet another hopeless dream. In her heart, she had always known she was meant for something more, that she would never be able to find her happiness in marriage and family, but the reality of things had hit her too hard way too many times.

Nina clenched her jaw, her mouth going dry. “I tried.”

“And you will try again,” Pietro murmured, like a statement of fact. “Because this is who you are.” A shadow of melancholy darkened his eyes. He let out a sigh, dropping his gaze to his hands. “I’m sorry I abandoned you after I came back from the war. I should’ve done more for you, I should’ve forced dad to see what I saw. Maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe-”

“You did enough,” she interrupted him, but there was no harshness in her voice. “Dad only sees what he wants to see.”

Their father was a stubborn man, and he had his own beliefs, beliefs he had already betrayed by allowing Nina way more than any other father allowed his daughter. Asking him more meant asking him the impossible.

“And…” she pondered her next words, playing with the hem of her nightgown. “This is not a sacrifice. Not completely, at least.”

She didn’t need to look at him to know that Pietro was scrutinising her, waiting for her to go on. For the bomb to drop.

“I care about Tommy,” she revealed. “I might not know what my life would’ve been like had things been different, or what my life will be like a year from now, but I know that I care about him. And that’s enough, for now.”

Her words sounded foreign to her own ears. She had never dared to say it out loud before, and yet there it went, coming out of her mouth as the simplest of truths. She felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Because finally she could admit it to herself. Tommy Shelby had bursted into her life and made her question everything she thought she knew. He had made her feel things she never thought she’d be able to feel for anyone, he had taught her to see him. To love him, without neither of them realising it. And now that she knew how it felt to see and be seen, she wasn’t sure she could just let it go.

When she glanced at Pietro, a small smile tugged at his lips. Her eyebrows knitted in a confused frown. She could swear he was disappointed in her up until a few minutes before. But again, what went through her brother’s mind would always be a mystery to her.

“You’ve always done as you pleased,” he said. “You wanted to finish school, you finished school. You didn’t want to marry Spinietta, you didn’t marry Spinietta. Now you have decided you want to be with Shelby. God knows what you’ll do when we won’t be there to keep an eye on you.”

Despite his attempt at a joke, his voice bore a sadness that pierced right through her, and that she immediately recognised as her own, too.

We won’t be there to keep an eye on you.

That would be the last day she spent at home, with her family. She wouldn’t wake up to her mother’s rants anymore, or to her brothers’ fighting. She wouldn’t sneak into her father’s office to read when she’d need some peace, or cover up Winston’s shenanigans to prevent her mum from throwing him out the house. There was no telling when they’d get to see each other again. She pursed her lips, forcing herself to smile. “I guess you’ll find out.”

“I hope so,” he whispered. He turner to look at her, and when he spoke again, his tone was deadly serious. “You can still do what you want to do. This doesn’t have to be the end.”

She hoped he was right. She desperately wanted to believe he was. But that was the kind of thing only time could tell. She nodded, her eyes travelling to her window. The sun was rising above the horizon.

“Pietro, I need to talk to Tommy.”

She felt him stiffen beside her.

“You’ll have plenty of time to talk after you’re married,” he said dryly.

“Please.“

He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Alright. But there are men watching, and they don’t know why Shelby’s confined there. They can’t see you. I can distract them, but you’ll have to be quick.”

Nina nodded frantically. “I’ll be quick,” she promised. “I just need a minute with him.”

“Fuck!”

Tommy’s voice resounded in the small room as he angrily kicked the door. He had been locked in there for hours, like a lion in a cage, waiting to be freed or put down. He had been brought to some kind of shack in the middle of the Sicilian fields, and left there to go insane. From the considerable number of pits he had caught a glimpse of before they pushed him inside, he could tell that was the place where the Ferrante family made people disappear.

Chances were, someone was digging a fresh one for him that very moment.

It was quite the exit, killed miles away from home, then thrown in a shallow grave where no one would ever look for him. All because he had fallen for the wrong woman. Again.

He sat on the edge of the small, uncomfortable bed, and dropped his head in his hands. That was not how it was supposed to go. Things had taken such an unpredictable turn in such a short span of time he could hardly believe it. Some part of him expected to wake up in his bed, in his house in Small Heath, and find out that all of that had been nothing more than a strange dream. He wondered when and how his family would receive the news. If they’d receive the news, or they’d be left to come to their own conclusions. If they’d grieve him, or only grieve the things he wouldn’t be get to give them anymore.

How foolish had been of him, to think he could have a chance at happiness. To think he could find someone whose mere presence seemed to heal the most wounded parts of his soul and keep them. Maybe what Campbell had said to him a few months before was true. Men like him weren’t meant to be loved.

The sound of keys hitting the lock startled him from his musings. His head snapped towards the door, heart racing. He was unarmed, but he could still fight. He was a soldier, for fuck’s sake. And a gangster. He had cheated death more times than he could count, what was one more?

He jumped to his feet, waiting. And it took him more than a moment to realise it wasn’t death who had come for him. It was Nina.

“Nina…”

Before he could say anything, she closed the door behind her and threw herself into his arms, holding him with a strength he had never imagined she could possess. He promptly wrapped his arms around her, burying his nose into her hair, her scent soothing his frayed nerves. She was there. She had come for him. He tightened his grip around her, scared that she was only a figment of his imagination, that she would slip away and disappear at any moment.

“Are you alright?” she asked, pulling away just enough to check. She cradled his face in her hands, frowning as she got a glimpse of the cut above his eyebrow.

“I’m fine, love,” he reassured her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, lowering her gaze. “I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

Tommy’s heart clenched in his chest. “Hey, look at me,” he said hoarsely, running his fingers through her raven hair away to move it away from her face. He gently took ahold of her chin, his thumb ghosting over her split lip. “Look at me. I don’t regret anything. You hear me? No regrets. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

Nina put her hand on his, then brought it to her lips to place a tender kiss on it. “We need to talk,” she murmured, and sent a quick glance towards the door. “But we need to be quick.”

Tommy swallowed hard, feeling the muscles in his back growing tense. He had to remind himself that yes, Nina was there, but that didn’t mean they were safe, not yet. “Go on.”

“The peace will stand. My father and Pietro are planning to make us get married in secret,” she explained, a hint of nervousness in her voice. “Then they’ll send us away. By the time my uncle finds out, it’ll be too late.”

He nodded, taking in her words. He should’ve felt relieved - and he did, to some extent -, but there was a doubt, a fear that stung at the back of his mind like a thorn by his side. Was it what she wanted? He wanted it, he knew it, and he had told her more than once. But she had never expressed the same wish. Not openly, at least.

She must’ve noticed the way he had wavered, because something changed in her expression. “If…” she paused, uncertainty flashing across her face. “If that’s what you want.”

Tommy quirked an eyebrow, tilting his head. “Well, it’s marriage or death, eh?”

Nina inhaled deeply, averting her gaze.

“Nothing has changed for me, Nina,” he said softly. “I’m just worried that this might not be what you want.”

She jerked her head up, shooting him a disbelieving look. “What part of ‘I’m yours’ did you not get?” she reminded him of what she had said to him the previous morning.

Tommy couldn’t help the grin growing on his face, a warmth he only felt with her spreading in his chest. Leaning in, he pressed a kiss on her lips. God, he had been wanting to do that since she had walked through that door.

“Tommy, wait,” she stuttered, gently pushing him away.

He looked at her in confusion. What, now?

“There’s something I need to tell you before we go through with this,” she said, taking a step back. “I mean, it’s not like we have much choice at this point, but still...” She sighed, searching for the right words. “You… you need to know. I don’t want you to jump into-”

“Nina, just speak,” he said firmly, putting an end to her rant.

“I don’t want children,” she blurted out. “I mean, I don’t want them now. Maybe that will change, maybe it won’t. But there’s a chance it won’t change, and you need to know.”

Tommy blinked, a frown making its way on his face. That was what worried her that much? He already knew. She had never put it in those words, but from the things she had said to him in the past, he had imagined it. And it wasn’t that big of a deal, for him. “It’s alright. We can wait until you’re ready.”

“What if it’s never?”

“Then we won’t have them, we’ll be careful,” he assured her. He let out a sigh, putting his hands on her shoulders. “Nina I want you. Fuck the rest. I love you. You don’t have to say it back, but I want you to know.”

Something unreadable flashed across her eyes, and he wondered whether he had made a mistake, by telling her. But he couldn’t keep it to himself anymore, he had to say it, cause had been eating at him for days. And she needed to know that what they were about to do wasn’t for nothing.

A soft knock on the door interrupted them. Nina glanced behind her. “I need to go,” she whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips. A bitter disappointment filled his heart. He didn’t want her to go just yet. And a part of him had truly hoped she’d say it back to him.

When Nina walked away from him, she brought with her the warmth that had engulfed him, and he was left feeling almost cold, despite being in the middle of the summer. Before she walked out the door, she turned to face him, as if she had just remembered something. “Winston’s coming with us,” she stated in a tone that brooked no argument.

A throaty chuckle escaped his lips. “Yeah, Winston’s coming with us.”

She smiled in satisfaction, moving to walk out. Then she stopped again, turning to him one last time. “And Tommy?”

“What?”

“I love you too.”

Having placed the last of her bags in the hallway, Nina took one last look around her bedroom. It had been left almost completely untouched, she didn’t have the time nor the space to take all of her stuff with her. Her desk was still scattered with papers and notebooks, her favourite candle was still resting on the bedside table, her dresser was still full of books. Only her diaries had been safely packed in one of her suitcases. Her eyes trailed over all the things her grandmother had hand-painted for her when she was little: the little flowers on the closet, the bluebird on a corner above the door, the ivy on the side of the dresser. She couldn’t believe she was about to leave it all behind. The place that had watched her grow up, play, fight. The place that she had hated, cursed, that she had so desperately wanted to flee from. The place that would always have a part of her soul, despite everything.

Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to turn the light off and walk out the door. It was past midnight. It was almost time.

The door of Salvatore’s bedroom was open. They hadn’t talked since the previous night. He had been avoiding her on purpose, ignoring her questions, pretending not to see her, changing room whenever she walked in. She didn’t even know if he’d attend the wedding.

Gathering her courage, she peered into his room. He was facing the window, adding cufflinks to his pristine white shirt. From the way his back stiffened, she could tell he knew she was there, but he didn’t turn around, nor did he utter a single word.

After a moment of hesitation, she spoke. “Are you coming to the church?”

No answer.

She cleared her throat, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “Is that a no, or…” she trailed off, fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

Again, no answer.

“You’re still so angry with me you won’t even say goodbye?”

Salvatore’s movements came to a halt. He slightly turned his head, looking at her from the corner of his eye, and a muscle twitched in his jaw. For a moment, Nina thought her words might’ve gotten through him. But he didn’t face her. Instead, he walked over to a jacket laying on the chair in front of the desk, and started fumbling in one of the pockets. She frowned, watching as he took something she couldn’t see out of it. As he then approached her with slow steps, she couldn’t help but tense.

Salvatore had become unpredictable, over the past couple of years. He had always had a temper, but the war seemed to have taken it to the extreme, turning his anger into a dormant beast, ready to bite and devour at the slightest trigger. A part of her felt guilty for even thinking that he could ever do something to her. But she hadn’t forgotten the way he had tried to hit her the day before, and the spiteful look in his eyes as he dug his fingers in her arm.

However, there was nothing menacing in his demeanour when he stopped in front of her. He stood tall, proud as usual, but there was a hint of sorrow on his scarred face.

“I know you stole a knife from me a few years ago, and I know you always carry it with you,” he revealed, his lips curving in a grin. “But I thought you should have something more…”, he paused, searching for the right word. “…suitable.”

Nina immediately recognised the switchblade. She knew well the intricate design of its bone handle, the roses painted on it. The family knife. All the men of the family had it. Her father, her brothers, her uncles, her cousins. She carefully grabbed it, turning it in her hand. Its lightness was impressive. She flicked it open in one swift motion, pleased by how easy it was to handle. She read the incisions on the blade. Che la mia ferita sia mortale on one side (May my wound be lethal). Ferrante on the other.

“You don’t forget who you are,” he said, his tone grave. “In less than twenty-four hours you’ll have his surname, but you’ll always be a Ferrante.”

Nina closed the knife, raising her gaze on her brother. For a split second, she got a glimpse of the boy he used to be. The loud boy who bothered her, who pushed her around, who found many different ways to make her angry. And she could swear his eyes were glistening with unshed tears.

Suddenly, he pulled her to him in a harsh, tight hug, and at first she had no idea how to respond. Her family, including herself, had never been too physical, and they often felt awkward when it came to displaying affection. Yet, it didn’t take her long to warm up. She wrapped her arms around him, hiding her face in his shirt. They’d never gotten particularly along, they’d had a considerable number of fights and disagreements, but he was still her brother, and she would miss him. She would miss him so much.

He placed a kiss on the top of her head. “Si ti tratta mali, iu vegnu e cci rumpu li gammi.” (If he hurts you, I’ll come break his legs.)

The small church smelled of incense, wood and stale beeswax. The pale, timid rays of dawn filtered though the stained glass, eerily falling on the crucifix statue at the rear of the altar. Christ’s tortured face was the only thing Nina could focus on as the priest’s voice reverberated through the stone walls. From where she was kneeling next to Tommy, he seemed to be staring right into her soul.

Her family was standing on the side, and by the looks on their faces, the function looked more like a funeral rather than a marriage. Her father’s expression was a mixture of pain and shame, her brothers were stoic, and as for her mother, she didn’t have the slightest intention to make an effort to hide her discontent. Maria had always wished for her daughter a beautiful wedding gown, a church full of flowers and candles, solemn music. Instead, she got nothing but a short, hurried ceremony. No readings, no elaborate vows. Just a quick ‘yes’, the bare minimum to fix her situation. Then she’d be gone.

Vincenzo Ferrante had taken care of everything. He had instructed the priest on what was to be done, and made sure the language barrier wouldn’t be a problem. Tommy would just have to express his consent. Then, after the ceremony, a car would bring them to the dock.

Nothing had gone as expected. And the Ferrante family could’ve never imagined that after Tommy Shelby’s arrival, they would never be the same.

As the priest spoke, Nina couldn’t make herself listen to him. The crushing weight of an unknown future was slowly descending on her shoulders, growing heavier with each second that passed, trapping her in its dark, icy grip. Fear had taken root inside her, and it was gradually draining her of every ounce of courage she had left, turning it into a poisonous lymph than ran through her veins, to her heart.

In all that darkness, she found herself praying. Praying that things would turn out fine. Praying that she hadn’t been a fool, by following her heart. Praying that she wasn’t making the biggest mistake of her life. Never before had she so strongly hoped that there was a God listening. Lacking the blind faith of the believer, she didn’t often pray. Yet, right now it was the only thing she could do. But it wasn’t a Father she was turning to. No. She had always thought that if there was a God, it must’ve been a woman. No Father could love so unconditionally, no Father would ever die for his ungrateful children’s sins. It was the kind of sacrifice only a Mother would make. And the act of creation had never belonged to men. So she prayed that good, nurturing Goddess she desperately wanted to believe in to welcome her plea and protect her like a loving mother.

As if sensing her agitation, Tommy subtly brushed his pinky finger against hers. It’ll be alright, he seemed to say. That fleeting contact was enough to bring her back to her senses, but it hardly calmed her rising panic.

When the priest started to ask the questions, her heart began to race. Tommy shifted his gaze on her, but she couldn’t bring herself to do the same. She was afraid that one look in her eyes would be enough for him to know what thoughts were poisoning her mind.

“Thomas Michael Shelby, vuoi accogliere Anna Ferrante come tua sposa nel Signore, promettendo di esserle fedele sempre, nella gioia e nel dolore…” (“Thomas Michael Shelby, do you take Anna Ferrante to be your wife? Do you promise to be faithful to her in good times and in bad…”)

She took a deep breath, trying to escape the fog gathering inside her head.

“Nella salute e nella malattia…” (“In sickness and in health…”)

Marriage. An unbreakable vow. An arrow that, once shot, could never be retreated.

“Di amarla e onorarla tutti i giorni della tua vita?” (“To love her and to honor her all the days of your life?”)

“Sì,” Tommy’s deep voice resounded through the high walls.

She froze, her fears finally gaining the upper hand. Was it what she truly wanted, or just what she thought she wanted? Was she doing the right thing? Would she regret her choice? Was she betraying herself?

“Nina,” Pietro hissed, snapping her out of that whirlwind of thoughts.

Without her even noticing, the priest had asked her the question, and was now waiting for her answer. Everybody was. She gulped, turning to look at Tommy, whose features were now full of apprehension. But she didn’t find the unknown that had scared her so much, in his blue eyes. She found the safety he had made her feel, the love he had shown her through every glance, every word, every touch. Slowly, she let her doubts drift away. She wasn’t scared because she didn’t trust him. She was scared because she had never thought of herself like someone who could be loved, and it felt foreign, and hard to believe.

The words her brother had said to her echoed in her mind. This doesn’t have to be the end.

She bit the inside of her cheek, gathering her courage. It was Tommy, just Tommy. He loved her. She loved him. She could still do the things she wanted to do.

So she said yes.

The land slowly faded into a dark silhouette as the ship sailed farther and farther away. Nina’s eyes strove to hold on to it, refusing to move until it became a black dot, and then disappeared into the distance.

Her heart felt astoundingly lighter.

She leaned against the railing, watching as the light reflected off the crystal water, sparks dancing across the blue expanse of the sea. She had ripped off her roots, mercilessly severing them one by one, and found herself surprised to acknowledge how easy leaving was once she had eradicated herself.

There was just one thing weighing her down. She would never forget the look in her father’s eyes when they said goodbye, or his silence when she asked him if would ever forgive her. In her heart, she knew he’d never be able to look at her the same. Although kept secret, the stain of shame had dried all over her name, and it could never be washed away.

Shame. That word had been following her like a shadow ever since she was a child. She became scared of it before she even knew what it meant. It hung over her head, carrying the terrifying promise of a wretched fate. A four-headed monster whose dreadful eyes watched her every step, waiting for her to fall.

It would have to wait a while longer. Because there were lots of things to be ashamed of, but love was not one of them.

She glanced at Tommy, standing next to her against the railing. Smartly dressed, with his peaky cap on and his gun poking out of his jacket, he looked just like the first time she saw him. She couldn’t notice it in the church, too overwhelmed by her own thoughts. He rubbed a cigarette between his lips, then placed it in his mouth, his gaze lost in thought. Like her, he was probably just processing everything that happened. She wished she could enter inside his mind, only for a moment, to know what was going through it. If, now that they had taken that step, there was any kind of regret taking shape inside it. But when he shifted his blue eyes on her and gave her a playful wink, her worries started to fade. His look was still as full of love as it was in the church.

“You’ve survived my family,” she said, lightly nudging him with her elbow. “Now it’s my turn.”

A wide grin grew on his face, which he concealed by lighting the cigarette. “I think you’ll fit in just fine,” he murmured.

Nina shook her head, her own lips curving in a smile. She wasn’t that scared anymore. The unknown opening in front of her felt more like a chance, rather than a threat, and she was ready to step into it. But there was still a needle digging into her brain, one it would take time for her to get rid of.

“Tommy,” she grabbed his attention, her tone dead serious.

He turned to look at her, his eyebrows twitching slightly as he waited for her to go on.

“I’m trusting you. Don’t make me regret it.”

A/N: We’ve come to the Epilogue of Part 1, and I still can’t believe that over the course of almost one year and a half it became what it became. I wanted to take a moment to thank all of you who have followed Nina’s journey up until now, and those who will continue to follow it in the next parts. To those who have left comments, and asks, and engaged constantly with it. I may often be late with my replies, but I can assure you I remember each one of you. The loved you have showed to this story has been so important for me. A special thanks also goes to my wonderful mutuals, who have joined this mess and shown endless support. And for those of you who will continue to read this, be ready, cause this is far from the ending. I’m so excited to move forward, and I hope you will be, too🤍

Heart, Body and Sould tag list

@zablife @queenofshinigamis @raincoffeeandfandoms / @justrainandcoffee @call-sign-shark

@kmc1989 @babayaga67 @kmhappybunny240 @diorrfairy @mariaelizabeth21-blog1

@gaslysainz @brummiereader @loverhymeswith @fairypitou @prettywhenicry4

@mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @woofgocows @girlwith-thepearlearring @goblinjnr @outlanderuniverse

@citylights31 @neonpurplestars89-blog @outlanderuniverse @red-riding-wood @evita-shelby

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General Tag list: @iamngoclinh08 @lilywinchesterlove @fandom-puff @capitanostella

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@lunarubra @rangerelik

Tommy Shelby tag list

@50svibes @bellabarnes1378 @jbrownta

[ceirinen]

December 2023

I decided to make a list of every fic I read each month.

I would like to interact more, but life has been complicated recently and when it comes to interacting, I get very anxious which is something I'm trying to overcome.

So, here I made this to appreciate such amazing writers and stories that inspire me and others everyday. To the authors, I want to thank them for their dedication and time spent on writing to offer us fascinating stories.

I totally recommend their work.

(If you are in this list and you don't want to, please let me know so I can fix it).

@cillianmesoftlyyy

So New | Cillian Murphy x fem!reader Method Acting | young!Cillian Murphy x Reader

@runnning-outof-time

Research | Tommy Shelby x Reader Bedtime Stories | Tommy Shelby x Reader & Daughter

@zablife

teacher!Luca Changretta x Reader Funeral | Tommy Shelby x sister!reader A Visit to the Peaky Blinders Set | Cillian Murphy x wife!reader

@gypsy-girl-08

Festive Spirit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader All I Need... | modern!Thomas Shelby x Reader A Gentle Warning | Thomas Shelby x wife!Reader

@pacifymebby

Arthur Shelby x Reader

@fkmarrycill

Pre-Gaming | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@holacia3

Lost and Lucky | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader Surprise visit | modern!Tommy Shelby x Reader

@beastofburdenxo

Let Me Praise You | Tommy Shelby x Reader Raising Catherine | Tommy Shelby x Reader

@look-at-the-soul

If I let you go | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@your-nanas-house

What does my princess want? | sugar daddy!Cillian Murphy x sugar baby!reader I'm pretty sure you're mine | sub!William Killick x dom!fem!Reader What are we, idiot? | Neil Lewis x best friend!Reader Thirsty | Tommy Shelby x secretary!Reader

@raincoffeeandfandoms

To the end of the world | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Tommy, the teddy bear | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Emergency surgery | baby!Tommy Shelby Fanfiction | Alfie Solomons x fem!oc Anon | Alfie Solomons

@lis-likes-fics

Loner | Edward Cullen x Reader At the End of the Day | Tommy Shelby x wife!Reader

@rafeology

Mentor!Finnick Odair x victor!reader

@wife-of-all-dilfs

Flower Therapy | Finnick Odair x Reader

@darlingsfandom

Cillian Murphy x Reader Tommy Shelby x artist!reader Soft sugar daddy | Robert Fischer x Reader

@pinguwrites

Home Is Where the Heart Is | William Killick x future!reader

@http-finnick

Skin to skin | Finnick Odair x fem!insomniac!reader

@acewritesfics

Lost Love | Tommy Shelby x Reader 36 Minutes | modern! Tommy Shelby x Reader

@dearshelby

Had you first | Tommy Shelby x Reader Little Tommy | Thomas Shelby x oc

@lau219

Red Carpet | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@peakyswritings

I Do Bad Things | demon!Tommy x Reader

@shelbystales

Ceramic Lessons | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@darthannie

Day eighteen: breeding kink with Lenny Miller | Lenny Miller x f!Reader

@hllywdwhre

Afterglow | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@red-write-hand

I'll be home for Christmas | Thomas Shelby x Reader

@mysaintkitten

Bad Behaviour | Mike Kiernan x fem!Reader

@notyour-valentine

The Spirits that I summoned | young!Tommy Shelby

@brummiereader

No Son Of Mine | Tommy Shelby

@youbyradiohead

Strawberry Syrup | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillianthinker

British accent | Cillian Murphy x Reader Young and in love | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillspropertea

Coming home | Cillian Murphy x Reader

@cillmequick

Operation Christmas Tree | modern!Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

[deebris]

Act 2: Sacrifice

Shelby family x sister reader (platonic!)

Synopsis: Liam Byrne was enduring yet another grueling day of work when he heard a voice that once brought him comfort, but now sounded like a forbidden melody. Yet, upon seeing you in danger, ignoring it was impossible. Without a second thought, he risked his own safety to protect you.

Warnings: Physical aggression, verbal abuse, violence, intimidation, control, harmful power dynamics.

Word count: ≈ 1.7k

ACT 1: Permission

It was almost nightfall, but the work pace at the docks was intense. On any other day, things would have slowed down by now, but today Liam had carried more weight than he had the entire past week.

He felt exhausted, and his hands were bruised all over. The tips of his nails were black due to the dried blood beneath them, and the stress was palpable, yet he couldn't stop. Not even for you.

The boy heard your worried voice, calling his name with a serenity that could even make the rain fall more serene. He shivered, the fingers freezing on the crate, and his heart pounded frantically. The cargo nearly fell due to the weakness caused by nervousness.

“You should be heading home,” he said, knowing your routine after school and not daring to look at your face — the same face that haunted him in his dreams.

He placed the heavy crate on the ground, trying to ignore you. Since what happened between him and your brothers, Byrne had decided to keep his distance from you, telling himself he wasn't allowed to stay close.

And he hadn't forgotten Finn's threat. But it wasn't that he was afraid, Liam simply didn't want to cause his ex-friend any more anger. Their friendship was now nothing but a distant memory, and soon after, Isaiah also began avoiding him.

“I thought of you and decided to check if everything was okay. Is your mother better?” you said, moving slightly to the left to make way for a worker. "You look like you haven't rested in days."

“I'm fine.” No, he wasn't. “My mother too, the neighbor is taking care of her.” Liam replied simply, but with his natural gentleness. “Hasn't Finn come to pick you up?” He asked, concerned. The Shelby surname could mean a lot, but it wouldn't always protect you.

“He didn't show up. I looked for him, but…” You looked at him uncertainly, trying to dismiss the chills you'd been feeling since class ended, as if footsteps had been following yours the whole time. “I noticed you two are distant. Did you have a fight?”

Your question finally made him stop what he was doing. Liam suddenly remembered the state of his nose, which was covered in bruises. He ran a hand through his hair, then rested both hands on his waist.

“You don't have to worry about me and your brother,” he said, as if trying to reassure you from something, while subtly hiding your suspicions about the injury.

You rubbed the shoulders, feeling a cold breeze, and adjusted your coat, but a confused expression remained. He saw you nod and prepare to leave, but then you stopped.

“I know we're not close…” You began, feeling a tightness in the throat. “But if something's wrong between you and Finn, you should sort it out soon. I like your friendship.” Your voice was melodic, almost a prayer, and he wondered if you'd spoken to Finn about this too.

Liam furrowed his brows, displaying an expression worthy of a painting. For a moment, your mind drifted from reality to admire his features — not just that, but his posture and everything that reflected in him. He was handsome; soft and strong at the same time, an enigmatic contradiction, yet it worked.

Besides, you'd never seen him drink, smoke, or go out with girls, like your brother. Some nights, before going to sleep, you'd think about it and wonder if he did it when no one was watching. When you weren't watching.

“Finn and I will sort things out on our own.” He snapped you out of your thoughts. “Like I said, you don't need to worry.”

Liam seemed much calmer after your question and raised his hand slightly, as if wanting to touch your arm, but held back.

“I like that you're his friend.” Your confession made him narrow the eyes, caught off guard. “You're good for him. You knock some sense into that blockhead.”

His mouth turned into an amused smile and he laughed; or rather, chuckled. A genuine reaction that you mirrored.

“Blockhead...” He repeated the word you used, finding it new that it came out of a such polite girl. “Be careful.” Liam warned warmly, as a farewell, returning to his task of stacking crates.

“You too.”

He heard and kept your words, watching from the corner of his eye as you walked away a few meters, as if that would protect you from some imminent danger. He would take care of himself, or at least try to, because you asked.

Liam analyzed the remaining cargo and the darkness starting to taint the sky. The docks were becoming emptier and quieter, with only a few men lingering, some chatting while others exchanged coins.

Before you arrived, he was already prepared to go home, but not to rest — rather, to finally check on his mother.

He reeked like a pig, and only then did he wonder if you'd noticed the stench. The sweat that had dried with the breeze left his skin sticky and stained with dirt. His only comfort would be taking a bath, eating some bread or porridge, and then sleeping. There was no time to care for his wounded hands; they would have to heal on their own.

The next day, everything would repeat itself, from the labor to the injuries.

But his plans were interrupted by a commotion. Liam turned, seeing you being cornered by two other boys in the distance. They looked much older, and without any good intentions.

He looked around, as if the simple gesture would make Finn appear to save you, but that wouldn’t happen. He immediately ran, narrowing his eyes as he saw the boldest one place a hand on you — far too close to somewhere inappropriate. Everything in your body screamed discomfort, or worse, fear.

“Oi! Get your hands off her!” Liam shouted with ferocity, his muscles tense, even those in his face.

“Who the fuck are you?!” The one standing further away stepped in front of him, grabbing Liam by the collar.

Liam recognized him. It was Edmund, delinquent son of Nigel Beaumont, the clerk. This boy was known as a walking problem, the type who did quick illegal jobs for big names in Birmingham.

“Have you lost your bloody mind?” Liam asked the question with authority, threatening him with a look that made eyelash tremble. “You’ve worked for the Shelbys, you know exactly who she is. Have you got any idea what the hell they’ll do to you for touching their sister?”

Meanwhile, you struggled to free yourself, shooting a furious glare at the second boy, who was gripping your arm far too tightly.

“Let me go!” You shouted in disgust at his foul breath, which only angered him more. He tangled his fingers in your hair, yanking it until you whimpered.

Liam saw how you were forced to tilt your chin up, seeking relief from the pain, while the boy's breath brushed against your cheeks. Edmund wrinkled his nose, his gaze faltering, but soon enough, rage returned to his features.

“Playing the good Samaritan, are we? Are you trying to help me or her? Mind your own business, Byrne.” He pronounced the surname with contempt upon recognizing him as well, while loosening his grip on Liam's collar, afraid of having the wrist broken. “I don’t give a toss if she’s a Shelby. I work for the Sabinis now.”

“This slag called me a dog the other day. I’m just settling the score,” the one behind you said with sarcasm.

Liam’s aura turned darker upon hearing the pathetic excuse. His once light iris turned black.

“Over that?!” you exclaimed in horror, breathing heavily. “I’m sorry!”

“Are you the shit of a weakling?” Liam stepped forward but halted as he heard another whimper of pain from you.

The two boys seemed wounded by the insult, both snorting through their nostrils.

“Mark, did you hear what he just called you?” Edmund spoke in an oddly calm tone. “A weakling,” he repeated the word as if savoring it.

He shoved you away, causing you to hit the ground, scraping your knees and the palms of your hands. Tears welled up in your eyes from the burning pain of the scratches.

“Since you're feeling so brave, why don't you pay for the lady's debts then?” Mark's cynical smirk revealed his yellowed teeth, his first words so far.

“No! Leave him alone!” Rushing to your feet, you tried to stop Mark from advancing, but he backhanded you, sending you crashing to the ground again.

Your face burned, the pain searing through the cheek as blood trickled from mouth. Your teeth had accidentally bitten your lip, and when you raised the hand to your cheek, they laughed.

Liam felt a fury ignite in his chest, swiftly landing a punch on Mark. He would have hit him a thousand more times if Edmund hadn’t pulled a switchblade from his pocket. The sharp blade clicked as it sprang out, filling you with panic and forcing Liam to step back.

“Get out of here. Find one of your brother Thomas’s men and stay with him,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off the two.

Liam knew exactly what you were thinking now; he could feel your hesitation from miles away.

“Get up!” he shouted in a way you didn’t think was possible, making you jump back but obey.

“I'd listen to your little friend,” Mark mocked while readjusting the posture.

They were closing in on him, and you didn’t want to leave. This wasn’t Liam’s fight; he put himself in danger for your sake. A wave of helplessness made your lips tremble, and your tear-filled eyes met his, of which were soft as fresh mint. You silently apologized, fearing for his life.

But then, a determined expression crossed your face, something that alarmed Liam. You delivered a sharp kick to Mark’s leg, just as Ada had taught you. He yelped in surprise, The injured leg gave out, causing him to fall to the ground.

Edmund looked ready to come after you, but Liam blocked him.

You hoped you’d at least given Liam an advantage as you ran as fast as you could — not out of cowardice, but out of desperation to find someone who would save him in time.

A sob escaped your lips as you heard the sound of another punch being thrown, but you didn’t dare look back to see who was taking the hit. Running was your only mission now.

Tag list:

@jsprien213 @salvatt1 @themorriganisamonster @thatsroug @sxurcherries @mclarens-type-is-my-type @boomdolle @macimads @sangdium45

[themultifandomgal]

Shelby Sister- Troublesome Twins Pt2

I was asked to do a part 2. So here it is!

Since Finn getting shot, YNs brothers have been even more protective than normal. She's finding it harder to see her boyfriend since Tommy has basically put her on house arrest. YN had been sneaking out during the night to meet Isaiah under the bridge by the cut. Then one day Isaiah asked YN to marry him, she of course said yes, but there's no way her brothers would allow that. So they made the decision to run off, with the help of Finn since he's the only one not to try and control YN's life. Now they're returning home, YN hoping her brothers don't go mad and Isaiah hoping her brothers don't kill him.

"There they are" Finn smiles walking over to them as the get off the train "the happy couple. Welcome back" Finn envelopes his twin before shaking Isaiah's hand

"So how bad will it be?"

"Well Arthur probably will shout, Tommy might have both your heads and Ada well she'll find all of this hilarious" Finn says pulling away

"Looking forward to it" Isaiah sighs

"Just don't tell 'em that your havin a kid because I think that will give 'em a heart attack"

"Well I'm not not for a while"

"Good. You hear that Isaiah. I may approve of you and my sister but no babies us till your like 30" this makes Isaiah and I laugh.

We arrive at the Garrison where I know Finn has gathered everyone

"You ok?" Isaiah asks before we step foot into the pub

"Should be asking you that" I chuckle taking Isaiah's hand in mine "but yes. May as well get this over and done with" I take a deep breath and open the doors immediately seeing it empty apart from my family sat at a large table. Everyone looks at us walking in

"Where the fuck have you been YN?" Arthur yells slamming his drink down

"Let the girl sit down first" Ada says, I give her a little smile in reply. I drag Isaiah over to the table and take a seat next to Polly. Tommy just stares at me while Arthur drinks. Michael sits smoking a cigarette looking between Tommy and I

“So” tommy finally speaks “want to tell us where you were?”

“Errm ok so” I play with my ring nervously under the table “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but I knew you would go mad”

“Spit it out” Arthur grunts

“Isaiah and I got married” I quickly say

“You bloody what?!” Arthur yells

“Finn did you know?”

“Yes, but Tom….”

“You went behind my back”

“I warned you Tommy. I told you Isaiah and I would get married one day with or without your permission”

“Are your pregnant?” Micheal asks

“No I’m not bloody pregnant”

“Then why marry so young”

“Maybe because they love each other” Ada says in my defence, but Tommy scoffs

“They’re kids”

“I’m 21 Tommy. I’m an adult I know what I’m doing” I yell at my brother

“No you don’t YN! What if he fucks another woman? What if he hurts you? He’s going to break your heart. Fuck YN I know what men his age do, hell men my age fuck around while married”

“Just ‘cause you all cheated on your wife’s doesn’t mean Isaiah will”

“Ok I think we need to calm down” aunt Polly tries

“No you know what this was a mistake. Maybe we should have stayed in London maybe I should have made you think I was dead because clearly you’d prefer that than me being married and happy!” I yell one last time “come on Is we’re going” I stand up pulling Isaiah with me. We begin walking out when Isaiah stops, turning around to face my brothers

“You know, I actually really love YN. I respect her as a person, she’s my equal and I will do everything in my power to keep her safe and provide for her and hopefully our kids in the future. I know YN will want you all apart of that, but I guess it’s your choice” Isaiah places his arm around my waist as we walk out of the garrison

“Thank you Is”

“Always”

I groan getting out of bed after hearing multiple knocks on the door and Polly shouting for me. Isaiah and I have been staying with Polly before we try and find our own home. I wrap my dressing gown around my body and make my way downstairs when I see Tommy and Arthur stood at the door

“What do you want?” I ask folding my arms

“You were right” I raise my eyebrows at Tommy. He never apologises

“Continue”

“You told me you would marry him”

“We’re just worried about you” Arthur finally says “we don’t want you hurt. Your our little sister. The baby of the family”

“I’m not a baby anymore. Neither is Finn. I appreciate that you want to keep me safe but I can handle myself and now I have Isaiah, well I guess I’ve always had him. I’m happy and I promise if Isaiah ever does anything to hurt me I will tell you”

“Can we come in?” Tommy asks

“Best ask Poll. I’ll go and get dressed and get Isaiah up”

“Just promise me 1 thing… no babies yet. I don’t think I can handle that as well”

“Ok” I chuckle responding to Tommy.

[evita-shelby]

1000 Followers

Gif by @filmgifs

Thank you all of you who follow me, who lurk, who reblog and especially those who actually talk to me.

I love you all and to celebrate this milestone we have these

💋 WWED/What would Eva do? (Where you send a question and I answer as only our favorite witch would)

💋pick a prompt from the links at the bottom to send as a request

💋send a gif or pic as a prompt

💋take Eva or any of my OCs for a spin

💋 send any gift of your choice

💋 drop into my asks for anything you feel like doing

Masterlist

Links for prompts:

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[skyeeuphixia]

𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚗 𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚋𝚢 // 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚍𝚘 𝚒 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍𝚋𝚢𝚎?

finn shelby x sister oc (florence)

summary: in which finn is left forever broken

⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

warning/s: blood, violence, death, grief, emotional distress

words: 1010

⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

When Finn and Florence Shelby were born, they instantly became the pride and joy of their families lives. They were loved by and doted on by their older siblings, the two of them could get away with close to anything, even Tommy would crack when he watched as his baby sister looked up at him with her big blue eyes that matched his so perfectly.

Despite each of them having particularly close relationships to different older siblings, Florence being especially close to Tommy, and Finn close to Ada, no one could deny the bond the two held with one another, they all saw it from the day that they were born and the two of them grabbed each other’s hands as they slept in their cot. Being twins they were connected on a deeper level than normal siblings. Aunt Polly pointed it out days after their birth. If Florence cried, Finn would cry. If Finn was happy, Florence was happy.

“They can feel each other’s feelings” she claimed.

For a while, the other Shelby’s brushed off their eccentric Aunt, they were babies reacting to the world around them, of course one would start crying if a baby started screaming in their ear. But as they grew older, their Aunts words became truer and truer. The twins would occasionally finish each other’s sentences, or say things at the same time, they could predict the others feelings even when they weren’t around each other. They couldn’t feel the others pain, but if Finn was in pain, physical or emotional, Florence knew, and vice versa.

They never provided much explanation as to what it was they felt, they simply placed their hands on their hearts stating that ‘they could feel each other’.

“Gypsy twin magic” is what they called it.

As the twins grew older, their differences emerged. Finn was street smart, Florence was book smart. Finn wanted a dog, Florence preferred a cat. Finn was eager to be more involved in the business, Florence wanted to be involved with business as little as possible. But despite their differences, they were just as close as when they were children. At 16 years old, they had never spent more than 24 hours away from each other. You would never see one twin without the other and if you did, something was likely very wrong, especially with recent events. Ever since Tommy’s wife, Grace, had died and things had been getting more tense against the Changretta’s, the twins had been ordered to never leave each other’s side and to protect one another, which they didn’t need to be told twice.

However it made moments like this more frustrating. Family meetings had to take place somewhere different every time they were held, it lowered the risk of the Changretta’s targeting them all at once, as they wouldn’t know where they are, Florence, ever the good girl of the family was often first to the meetings, and could almost always guess when Finn would come crashing through the door, panting dramatically as if he had sprinted a 5k. But now, the family had to wait for the two of them to arrive at the Garrison together. And Tommy was getting impatient.

“They should have been here by now,” Tommy says as he paces the room, more on edge than ever.

“’ave a bit of patience Tommy.” Arthur calls out, already half way finished a glass of whisky, “They’ll be in ‘ere any moment, Flo dragging Finn by the ear, scolding ‘im for making her later,”

Their aunt however was less convinced. She was good at sensing when things were wrong, and the pit in her stomach was growing more and more as the twins refused to appear, “Somethings not right,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Then, as if summoned by the collective fears of his family, Finn stumbled through the door. His face was deathly pale, eyes void of any emotion other than pure shock, but most significantly, in his arms, he was carrying Florence’s lifeless form. Her skin was as pale as ever, and she was drenched in blood from a bullet wound in her forehead, that was staining Finn’s white shirt.

Finn had barely processed what happened, he remembered hearing a gunshot, running to where he knew his sister was, and shooting his own gun in anger, that was all he could remember, but hearing the horrified gasps from his family, everything in his brain clicked. He didn’t hear himself scream, or the pain in his knees as he dropped to the floor, all he could do was sob as he desperately clutched his sister and held her close to him, desperately willing for her to wake up and end this nightmare.

The rest of the Shelby’s watched the scene in horror. Ada was sobbing into Johns side, as he held onto her burying his face into her hair to hide his own tears. Arthurs fists were clenched in fury, hardly being able to keep himself from smashing everything in the garrison.

Tommy’s ever cold and distant look had contorted into anguish at the loss of the sister he held so dear, “Not Flo…” he whispers, a quiet plea to whatever higher power there was to give her back to him.

Aunt Polly was the only one who could will herself to move over to the twins, kneeling down next to Finn, holding as much as he’d let her and placing a gentle kiss on the crown of his head, trying to hold herself together for him.

“I only left her cause I forgot my cap,” he whispered, his voice shaky and laced with guilt and self-hatred, “I knew Poll…I knew something was wrong, I could feel it…here,” he said, as he pressed a trembling hand to his heart, his sisters blood staining a red handprint, “It felt like I was dying, and then it vanished…”

“She’s gone…I can’t feel her anymore,”

And the family knew, then and there, the twin flame had burnt out,

and Finn would never be the same.

⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺

(fin)

[pacifymebby]

t r o u b l e / chapter seventeen

"No, no Ada, don't you try to calm me down, I won't calm down alright I won't calm down not whilst she's out there right..."

I stopped dead at the sound of Tommy's gritted teeth voice, a quiet and cutting tirade against Ada in the next room. I could see them through the open door and though for a moment I'd hoped he wouldn't see me, when I recognised the anxiety in them both my own nervous curiosity got the better of me.

The hallway tiles were cold and my bare feet stuck to them as I stood there, my wet hair dripping, cold water trickling from my shoulder to be soaked up by my damp sweater.

"Fen!" he spoke sharply, his eyes locked with mine a little desperate. This was as close to panic as I'd ever seen on Tommy and as Bonnie came to a halt just behind me, his hand on my lower back must have felt the fearful shiver which shot through me when my brother called out to me.

Ada caught his arm with the back of her hand, a short sharp shock which made him soften his tone, lower his voice just enough to lull me into a false sense of security.

"Fen," he said again softer this time than before, "come here a minute sweetheart, come talk to us.." he said beckoning me in with his hand and a pair of eyes which told me not to ask any questions. It was a look i recognised on Tommy, the brother who had always believed "do as I say not as I do."

"What is it Tommy, why do..." I started but when I did as he said and came to stand before him, looking up at him with trepidation in the wobble of my bottom lip he shushed me, a finger to his lips.

I shot a glance over my shoulder to see Bonnie still stood there, leaning in the doorframe, quietly surveying the situation himself. He wore a small frown, his eyes dark as he watched me standing before my brother, shrinking into myself.

"Want you to listen very carefully to me now eh Fen, cause this is very important alright? Whatever your sisters told you eh, whatever secrets shes asking you to keep for her I need you to tell me now..."

"What?"

"Tommys right Fen... For once.." said Ada, "whatever Sylvie's doing, wherever she's gone off to Tommy needs to know... The Italians are..." but I'd stopped listening to them the moment that one word had left Ada's lips. My stomach sunk like a stone. Gone.

"What do you mean gone?"

"Come on Fen don't be like this eh, haven't got time for any tricks, just tell us where she's gone so we can..."

"She's gone? What do you fuckin mean she's gone Tommy?" I asked my heart racing away from me, my whole world shrinking around me, making me feel so much smaller than everyone else as I looked between Ada, Bonnie and my brother. They all wore the same dark look, one of knowing. Like they knew something I didn't. Like they were worried about things I couldn't even dream of worrying about.

Ada held herself, arms crossed over her chest as she let out a sigh and shook her head, tried to be sympathetic when she turned her sorry eyes on me.

"I know you want to protect your sister Fen but tellin Tommy where she's gone, that will protect her... Whatever she's doing she ain't gonna be in trouble..."

"Well that depends what she's fuckin doin..." smirked John earning a wack around the back of the head from Arthur. I hadn't noticed the two of them sitting side by side on the sofa, John with his legs kicked out, laid back as you like. Arthur pale as a sheet, looking like he might be about to kill someone.

"Fen," said Tommy his impatience beginning to show, his jaw tight, his eyes dark and threatening a frozen hell, "no secret keepin in this family eh, wheres your sister?"

"I..." I didn't know what to say to him, didn't want them to think I was lying to them, couldn't tell them the whole truth. "I don't know Tommy... I haven't seen her since this morning in the... What do you mean she's gone?" I couldn't get my head around it, couldn't get the words to sink in.

She couldn't be gone. She couldn't have just left without saying a word, without even warning me so that I at least might know she was safe. Of course it occurred to me that this interrogation might have been exactly the reason for Sylvie to leave without saying goodbye to me, even so, it didn't make it any less lonely to learn that she'd left me there alone. I felt alone then, my older siblings eyes all starring me down. Ada disbelieving, her eyes widening with frustration as she met mine. She mouthed something to me but I couldn't make it out. Couldn't concentrate on anything because my sister was gone and no one would tell me what was going on.

"She's fucking gone Sonya! Now what part of gone do you not understand?" snapped Tommy his voice never raising above that quiet and steady monotone. His eyes and the sudden sharp of his tongue startling me. I flinched but didn't dare humiliate myself by averting my gaze, remained stubbornly starring him down, fingers digging into the palm of my hand as I clutched at the sleeves of my sweater and held on for life.

"Sylvia's gone right, she's not here. She's taken her things and she's fucking gone which means she's putting not only herself but the whole fucking family in danger so you're going to stop this childish nonsense now eh little sister and you're going to stop fuckin lying for her..."

"Tommy!" scolded Ada though he cut her off before she could make her weak defence.

"No Ada, we don't keep secrets in this family," he said stepping up so close to me that I had to tip my head back just to meet his gaze. He towered above me and even with his slight build he shadowed me completely. Made me feel terribly small.

"No fuckin secrets," he said pointing down at me, his finger too close to my eyes, impossible not to wince away from. But I held my ground, blood run cold feeling smaller by the second.

My words weren't supposed to come out a whisper but they did. I wasn't sure whether it made them easier to believe or not.

"You already know my secrets." I said quietly, voice trembling like the rest of me as I glared up at him, resisting the urge to blink, feeling the sting of the tears I was trying to hold back. I knew the moment I closed my eyes they'd all come flooding out.

Tommy turned away from me then, his finger still pointing accusatory between my eyes.

"For fuck sake," he muttered, snapping his fingers at our brothers, nodding for one of them to get up and join him. As if having two of them stare me down would open me up.

But they couldn't have got the truth from me even if I'd wanted to hand it to them, because I didn't know it myself. And it was that fact that was really breaking my heart. Not the confirmation that Tommy didn't trust us, didn't really see us as being part of the family in the way our other siblings were. It was the realisation that Sylvie didn't trust me. That we'd been keeping secrets from another for too long. That somehow, sometime very recently, the gemini thread between us had been pulled to tight and had snapped. That she didn't think she could tell me about this, this wild, fucking reckless great escape, it meant we weren't as close as we once were. As I'd always believed we would be.

"John, get up for fuck sake, fuckin talk to your sister..." Tommy waved his hand, beckoned John towards us, who did as Tommy bid with a sigh and a roll of his eyes.

"If she ain't tellin you she ain't tellin me," shrugged John, a lazy smirk on his lips as he shoved his hands in the pockets of his joggies and looked down at me. A conspiratorial light in his eyes, a smirk designed to make me believe he was on my side, not Tommys. It was the sort of smirk I'd believed in one too many times as a child playing tig and had learnt to be wary of long ago now.

"Right Fen, now you 'eard our big brother eh, Sylvie might be in trouble yeah so no coverin for her..."

"What happened to snitches get stitches?" I glowered up at him, sullen watery eyes determined to remain on the chic side of tragic.

"Jesus fuckin christ S..." snapped Tommy, his shout met by John's in an instant.

"Oi! Don't fuckin shout at her!"

One brothers hand shooting out to catch the others wrist before Tommy could snatch at my sweater and petrify me.

"She's fuckin lying to us John! Her sisters god knows where and she's fuckin laughin at us!"

"She's not fuckin laughin at you Tom! Look at her! Fuckin look at her you're terrifyin her!" John cried, all his anxiety and distress forcing their way out of him then. His spit flecking Tommy's cheek as he got between me and our older brother so that I was no longer forced to look up into Tommys unforgiving eyes.

"I'm not a fuckin liar Tom!" I said quietly, my voice probably going unheard as my brothers teetered on the edge of a fight.

"Maybe she should be scared eh John, maybe she should be fuckin scared..." said Tommy standing down, his finger no longer pointed, his jaw no longer clenched tight and sharp.

"Is Isaiah with her?" I asked then, my voice quiet, still shaking as I looked around the room and realised he wasn't there with them. It gave me a glimmer of hope see, to think that wherever she was, whatever reckless way she was choosing to endanger herself, Isaiah was with her. Someone I could trust to take care of her, someone who knew what she was like, what she might be capable of. Someone she wouldn't be able to surprise as easily as perhaps she expected...

But when Tommy shook his head my stomach dropped.

"He's not here," he said, "but theres no way to know for sure that he's with her..."

"And if we find out he's let her boss him around like you did when you were little..." grinned Arthur making John chuckle. Making even Tommy crack the most fleeting of smirks.

"Alright boys enough posturing..." warned Ada, one last look to me, begging me to tell them the truth, sympathetic though because she could tell I really did know nothing, "but your brothers are right Fen, if she tries to..."

"Left her phone here didn't she," grumbled Arthur earning a giggle from Ada who cut him off scrunching her nose up at him.

"Alright old man, don't just use phones to talk to people now do we..." She said before announcing that she was going to check on Karl. That after that she was going to check on Pol who's absense suddenly seemed strange to me until Tommy told Ada where she was.

"Not by you perhaps."

"She doesn't want to be disturbed..." he said locking eyes with Ada who turned him down without a second thought.

🌼🐻🌼

When Ada left the rest of us remained quiet and still but only for a moment. John sat back down, legs stretched out long, one crossed over the other. Hands shoved in his pockets. His gloomy doomed eyes looked to his brothers, the three of them waiting for the other to speak up.

Tommy stood, still close to me, holding his chin in his hand. When he moved away from me, paced to the window and took out a cigarette I longed to ask if I could have one too.

I watched Arthur as he sighed and joined Tommy in the window. I watched John as he copied from where he sat leaning back into the settee. The three of them blew smoke out of sync, slowly clouding the little room with thin whisps of grey.

"Have you spoken to me da?" asked Bonnie, his voice disturbing the quiet.

John was looking at me but with the distance of someone who couldn't see at all. His skin was pale with worry and his freckles only seemed to add to the nauseous grey my sister had painted him with.

He was standing just behind me, I could feel him there just to the left of my shoulder, it should have felt too close but it wasn't. If anything I felt my fingers resisting the urge to reach for his. To hold his hand if not only to have an ally.

"Sent Johnny Dogs and Charlie out with some men to search nearby. We need your dad and your family to stay close to the house... Need to work under the assumption that this is the work of the Italians and, if it is, Sylvie's the distraction and the worst is yet to come..."

I couldn't help but notice how he changed when he spoke to Bonnie. So matter of fact, so business like. Bonnie couldn't really have been so much older than me for Tommy to see a difference and yet, it was only I who was spoken to like a child. Only I who found herself left out of the wordless conversations which surrounded me at all times when I was with my brothers.

"This is the Italians?" I asked turning to Tommy with wide eyes, eyes which should have shown him the truth I was telling him.

"We don't know so we have to prepare for the worst Fen..." he said, "thats why its important you ain't keepin any secrets... If you know something Sonya..."

"I don't," I cut him off, my voice sharp and defensive. A tightness in my throat which made it difficult to breath or to speak without showing how much it hurt. Without showing how scared I was.

I stood trembling, resisted the urge to wrap my arms around my waist and hold myself but only for a moment. When I crumbled seconds later I couldn't hold myself tight enough. Couldn't stop the cold which gripped me.

"The worst..." I said stopping myself before I could say anymore, before I could make myself cry.

"Bonnie," said Tommy with a sigh, "why don't you help Fen to her room eh, she's upset, looks tired..." he said holding his hand up to quiet me when I tried to protest, "if you can't tell us where she's gone you can't help us Fen so it'd be better if you went upstairs eh, got some sleep... Somewhere safe."

I knew I couldn't argue. I didn't have the heart to argue anymore anyway. So numb with shock, with disappointment. With the cold feeling that chills your bones and slows your mind right down so that you can't process anything that scares you.

All I could do was stand there, holding myself, trying to hold myself together for long enough to look the three of them in the eyes and tell them why it really hurt.

When Bonnie's fingers skimmed mine I let mine slip between his as if tugged on by a magnetic force drawing us together.

"You don't trust me, yet you think Sylvie would..."

No one said a word but I felt his other hand come to rest on my shoulder, the gentle squeeze an attempt to lure me back to life. It was just enough to remind me I wasn't totally see through. That even if my brothers were looking through me, I was there. A real girl with a real broken heart.

He squeezed my hand too, his hand swallowing mine whole, fingers locking over my knuckles like a protective shell and when he tugged gently on my arm I moved as if in a trance. I was watching Tommy still and as I drifted backwards out through the door I'd been lured through under false pretences earlier that evening, I remained with my eyes fixed on John's dull ones, willing him to look at me with some kind of recognition.

We let the door close behind us and at the foot of the stairs Bonnie stopped.

"Do you mind me coming with you?" he asked looking back over his shoulder down the hallways, "into your room like... I don't mind just hangin around outside... Get me a little stool, set up me camp.

"Its fine," I said softly, my throat aching with the pain of every word I forced through it.

"Are you sure..."

"I'm sorry if I upset you earlier lass..." he said, his own speech stunted too, awkward because it sounded as though he were holding back.

"Uhuh," I said ever so quietly then, holding onto his hand a little tighter than he was holding onto mine.

"Its fine," I said trying to regain a little self confidence, trying to steady the shake in my voice when I stopped outside the bedroom doorway and turned, back up against the door, with a self depricating smile, shy eyes I didn't really know I had. "Told you didn't I, I cry all the time..."

As if he had a lot more to say than he was allowing himself to.

I leant back against the door feeling the give and sway as it opened behind me and my body leaning against it pushed it open.

"Take Sylvie's bed if you like," I said chewing my cheek as I slid down to the floor at the foot of my own bed. I'd been going to try and stretch out the tight doomy feeling in my shoulders and spine but when my legs bent and I felt my skirt skim the floor I gave in, just let my bum hit the floor with a quiet thump. Sat there gazing at the window, the rooms reflection overlayed by the dark of the gardens at night like something out of a 90s coming of age movie.

"Don't think I'll be doing much sleeping somehow," he chuckled choosing, rather than to go to the window or to do as I'd said and throw himself down on Sylvies bed, but instead to slide down to the floor beside me. To link our fingers once more and sit by my side in quiet solidarity.

"You don't know where she is?" he asked, already knowing the answer, no raised brow, just a downcurving smirk and a nod when I shook my head.

"No," he said with a little smile, nudging me in the ribs, "no more than any other Shelby eh..." but I knew from his teasing little grin that he really did believe me. That the ally I'd hoped to find downstairs had been found in him.

"I'm not a liar," I said again and he nodded seeming to think about it but only really for a second or two.