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#polly gray
rysko · 18 hours
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This, but as Peaky Blinders
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did this instead of going to sleep, bon apetit
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hacked-wtsdz · 2 months
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You can’t win as a woman in fiction. Be too positive, you become a Mary Sue, have flaws and those flaws are why almost nobody likes you. Be moderate, you have wet-cabbage personality, be exuberant, you are an unrealistic example. Have strong morals, and you’re badly developed, be morally corrupt and you’re hated with such vigour fans will send hate mail to the actress who plays the character. Be kind and soft and in love, you’re a representation of sexism, be cruel, harsh and cold and you’re just a bitch. Be a complex, realistic, ambiguous character, and either your flaws or your positive traits will be ignored or blown out of proportion and into oblivion. There is no winning for female characters.
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sparksetfire · 1 month
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| POLLY'S WARDROBE | S1 | S2 | S3 |
Since the costume design aspect of Polly's character is so important, I'm going to make a series of gifsets in appreciation, looking at how it changes based on her arc in the show!
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issdisgrace · 6 months
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I sat around a table at the Garrison with the Shelby family chatting, playing poker, and drinking. Well, everyone was drinking except for Arthur. Arthur had his nightly cut off. Noticing my glass was empty, I set down my cards and poured myself more whiskey.
“You know, I never asked where you got this, Tommy.” I say, taking a drink from my now full glass. 
“Solomons. It was a gift for coming to a deal with him.”
“Solomons as in Alfie Solomons.”
“Yeah, why?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t realize you knew him.” 
“How do you know him?” 
“I’m banging him.” Tommy chokes on his drink, John spits his drink out on Arthur, and Polly laughs, giving me a pat on my back. 
"For fuck's sakes John." Arthur says raising his voice, pushing his chair back before stomping off to the bathroom before anyone can say anything.
“WhAt?” Tommy lets out.
“I’m banging him. You know fucking him.”
“DAMN.” John says loudly. Polly gives him a look, and he quickly follows by saying,
“Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud, but damn.”
“It's ok, John. I guess it's not every day that you hear someone that's practical family is fucking the King of Camden.”
“You know Y/n I want to ask how you manage to get yourself in that situation, but I don't want to know.”
“It's better if none of you do know, Tommy. But just so you guys know, it was a crazy situation to say the least.”
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call-sign-shark · 7 months
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Bonus from the series Heaven in Your Eyes (Arthur Shelby x You):
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Also, I was completely drunk when I made this. So, sorry for the nonsense.
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kkurades · 2 years
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˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆ RED LIPSTICK ˚୨୧⋆。˚ ⋆
━━ you feel flattered when charlie shelby asks to marry you while your husband feels like he could strangle his nephew
word count: 2014
pairing: fem!reader x john shelby
warnings: none
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The Shelby's were always your family.
From a young age, you had been a Shelby. Even though you weren't blood-related, they were more of a family than your actual family could ever be.
While you and Ada were nearest in age, you had always been closest with John.
It didn't matter whether you were two youthful teenagers messing around or two passionate lovers who tried to find their place in the world.
You and John had always been each other's priority.
So, it came as no surprise when you turned out being pregnant by John at the age of sixteen.
You and John happily married each other as Arthur walked you down the aisle.
The day that your first daughter had been born was the day that John vowed to you that he would grant you more children if that was what made you happy.
So, you had five more kids after Katie.
Even though your life was far from ideal, you still loved it with every fiber in your body.
John was an incredible husband. He was always faithful to you and constantly made an effort to spend as much time as he could with you and the kids.
A particular thing that he loved to do was to spoil you. Anytime you even merely glimpsed at a dress, the following day it would be hanging in your wardrobe.
You had frequently told John that he didn't have to purchase you expensive items, but he constantly said that he loved to do it.
Tonight, you were wearing a black dress that John had bought you for a gala that would be hosted by one of Tommy's business partners.
You were seated on the bench that stood in front of your bed as you slipped on your heels. A giggle escaped your mouth as you felt John's wet kisses on the side of your neck as he crept onto you from behind.
“John, we can't do this right now,” you said while your husband wrapped his arms around you.
“We can do whatever the fuck we want,” he muttered against the base of your throat as his hands roamed over your body.
You tilted your head back onto his shoulder, which gave him more access to your neck.
“Fucking hell, love,” John mumbled as a grin appeared on his chiseled face.
Just before he could get any further, you heard the door to your shared bedroom open, revealing your third-born son.
“Mummy! Tell Katie to stop putting makeup on me!” He cried out, entirely ignoring John who looked like he was done with his life.
John loved your kids, he really did. But he can't stop questioning why they won't ever leave the two of you alone for more than five minutes.
Fred ran over to you before leaping onto your lap as he buried his face into your neck, which John had been harassing a few moments prior.
“Bloody hell, Fred. What'd Katie do to your face?” John asked his son as he caught a glimpse of red lipstick smeared all over his face and a deep green eye shadow covering the lids of his eye.
“She put it all over my face!” He hissed while he attempted to conceal his face into your neck as deep as he could.
“That's not true, mum! He asked me to do it for him!” You heard Katie yell from her room while Fred settled down in your arms.
John let out a groan before getting off the bed to get a damp cloth to get the cosmetics off his son's face.
While he went to the bathroom, you caressed Fred's back soothingly which lulled him to sleep along with your consoling flower perfume which you had applied earlier that evening.
When John returned, you carefully turned your son in your arms before softly wiping the makeup from his face.
After having made sure that his face was spotless you stood up to carry him to his chamber while John watched you quietly.
You put Fred to bed before making sure that all of your other children were all safe and sound in their beds.
You kissed them all on their forehead as they told you a 'goodnight mum' before you switched off the light and made your way back to your shared room.
When you entered your room, you noticed John slumping against the headboard while he stared at the wall opposite of him.
“John?” You leaned against the door frame as he glanced at you before he clambered off the bed and made his way towards you.
Your husband tugged you into his taller frame while kissing you gently. He kissed the corner of your mouth before he lowered his lips to your jaw. When he reached your neck, he instantly pulled back as a disgusted look was present on his handsome features.
You furrowed your brows curiously as he stormed off towards the bathroom that was attached to your bedroom.
A few moments later you followed him only to see him holding his tongue under the water.
When he looked up at the mirror where he saw your figure, he gestured to his neck as the water got all over him.
“Gret hot uhin mahuh aw awe joh ek,” he mumbled as you frowned with a perplexed look on your face.
“What now?” John rolled his eyes before repeating the same sentence. When he noticed that you weren’t going to comprehend what he said, he turned off the water before turning to you.
“Fred got fucking makeup all over your neck,” he snarled, which made you look in the mirror where you glimpsed red and green lipstick stained on your neck.
“Oh,” you simply said before grabbing a damp towel to get it off your neck while John went to change his clothes so that he would look appropriate tonight.
After having scrubbed your neck, you made your way downstairs. John was already waiting at the front door with an adoring smile on his face as you put on your coat.
“You ready love?” You nodded at your husband, taking his outstretched arm before making your way to his car.
During the car ride to the Arrow house, you chatted John's ear off, which he didn't mind even if he whined about it.
Briefly afterward, you reached your destination before you made your way inside where the rest of the Shelby's stood.
“You're finally here! I was beginning to think that you two got lost,” Arthur exclaimed as he caught sight of you.
“Nah, the kids were being pissy,” John wrapped his arm around your waist, catching the lingering stares of the men who surrounded you.
You greeted all of your in-laws before going to stand next to Tommy, who was supervising Charlie.
“How's Charlie?” Tommy turned to you, allowing his eyes to leave Charlie for the first time that night, which provided him the opportunity to take off.
“He's alright. How're the kids?”
“They're alright,” you echoed, which made his lips turn upwards slightly.
“I-” Tommy was rapidly cut off as he noticed Charlie nearing the two of you with a cheeky smile on his child like features.
You scrunched up your face in disarray at Tommy's interruption before you followed his sight line and noticed Charlie.
The young boy had slicked his hair back with water and had requested Polly to make sure that he looked decent.
The two of you silently stared at Charlie as he cleared his throat before extending his arm out towards you.
“Dear Miss. Y/l/n allow me this dance,” you noticed that he resorted to using your maiden name and that he addressed you with Miss instead of Mrs.
You and Tommy shared an amused glance before you accepted his offer.
“Of course Mr. Shelby,” you took his arm, having to bent down slightly because he was five.
He chose a spot in the middle of the room before he turned back to you and made you pick him up so that you were in the same eye line.
“You look extremely beautiful. As usual, of course,” he rambled nervously with negligibly flush cheeks while you danced softly from side to side.
“Thank you sir. You look very handsome if you ask me,” you remarked with a kind smile on your face, which made him giggle giddily.
John had been searching for you for the past ten minutes after having closed an agreement with one of their business partners.
He had felt exceptionally pleased with himself and was thrilled to tell his wife about his triumph.
When he asked Polly about your whereabouts, but she told him that she saw you last with Tommy.
So now he was making his way to his older brother who was staring off somewhere with a fond smile on his face while Arthur was cracking up beside to him.
“Tommy, have you seen Y/n? Can’t find her anywhere,” Tommy and Arthur turned towards their younger brother before they swapped an amused look.
“Careful there John-boy little Charlie is planning to steal your wife,” Arthur laughed loudly which drew in some unwanted attention.
John furrowed his brows as he followed Arthur’s finger which was pointing at Charlie, who had enveloped his legs around his wife’s waist while she swayed from side to side with a smile on her face.
“That little fucker,” John mumbled under his breath as Arthur laughed even harder if that was achievable, and a small grin arose on Tommy’s face.
Polly and Micheal drew near the brothers, having noticed them by Arthur's loud laughing.
“What’s going on?” Tommy grinned at his aunt and cousin as Arthur was practically rolling on the floor, while John didn’t keep his eyes off his nephew who had caught his stare and smiled mischievously at him which only aggravated him more.
“My nephew is a real lady’s man,” Both Polly and Micheal glanced at Charlie who was kissing your cheek while maintaining eye contact with his furious uncle.
Micheal grinned slightly as the corner of Polly’s lips turned upwards in amusement.
“I swear if he doesn’t get his fucking hands off my wife, I will,” John declared angrily before you caught them all watching you.
You smiled sweetly at your family, which made your husband smile back at you while Arthur was trying to retain his giggles.
When the song ended, you put Charlie down before he led you back towards the Shelby's who were watching you with amusement shimmering in their eyes.
John quickly took you back from Charlie, which made the small boy frown before he turned to his father.
“I want to marry Y/n,” he simply spoke.
Your eyes enlarged while you gaped at him, Arthur got into another fit of laughter while your husband looked ready to annihilate his nephew.
“No. Absolutely fucking not,” John stated, which made Charlie roll his eyes at his uncle.
“And why not?” He questioned sassy.
“She’s already married to me,” John replied, Charlie, walked over to you and held your hand while the rest of the family silently watched the scene unfold.
“So? She can divorce you,”
“She’s too old for you. She could be your mother. Besides, she’s your aunt,” Your husband looked ready to pulverize him.
“But if you two divorce, then she won’t be my aunt anymore. And any woman older than eighteen could be my mother. Didn’t you get her pregnant when she was sixteen?”
Micheal choked on his drink, and you stared at Charlie with a perplexed look on your face. Polly was full-on grinning, while Arthur was turning red from the lack of air.
“Get here you little shit,” Tommy held John back as his son backed into you, looking for your protection from your husband.
“I think you should run before your uncle catches you,” you whispered to Charlie, who nodded before taking off into the crowd.
“Well, that was fucking amazing,” Arthur spoke before downing his drink at once.
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©cupidsheqrt , 2022.
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awakeningnostalgia · 4 months
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Peaky Blinders
“Men like us will always be alone, and the little love we get, we will have to pay for.”
– Inspector Campbell to Thomas Shelby
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eyemarchshelby · 9 months
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Natasha O'Keeffe new photoshoot by: Benjamin Eagle
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"Some prints from a shoot with the lovely and incredibly talented @natashaokeeffeofficial in early spring" -Benjamin Eagle
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everythingelseisextra · 8 months
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Work
Part Eleven: You're Like Me
Description: After a miscommunication, Tommy apologizes in the only way he knows how. Warnings: Language, self-hatred, Thomas being inept at communication Word Count: 2439 Tag List: @theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @look-at-the-soul @globetrotter28
You are brave. You insist on this in the cab, and you insist on this when you walk up the driveway, and you insist on this when you knock on the door. You have courage. You think this as you settle in the dining room, at the edge of the long wooden table, the high ceiling and portraits and pale yellow lamps and grandfather clock making you small, insignificant. You speak with strength. You tell yourself this as Tommy walks in, checks on you, and all you can do is nod when he asks if you’re ready. You are worthy of him. This one is the hardest for you to master, the hardest for you to hold onto. You remind yourself this as you hear him greet her, hear their footsteps in the hallway.
When she appears in the doorway, all drawn back shoulders, piercing eyes and impeccable fashion, you lose all sense of yourself. You stand and bow your head, as if a queen has appeared in Arrow House, which in a way, she has. Like Tommy’s, her eyes flick over you like a cat watching a bird, that intensity and deep rooted sense of predatory analysis. She walks right up to you, and you resist the urge to step back, to remove yourself from her aura. 
“Polly Gray.” A cigarette dangles from her lips and her outstretched hand is steady, stable, while the one you reach out to shake with shakes slightly. When you don’t respond with your name, her thin smile widens slightly and she tilts her head. “And you are?”
You open your mouth to speak, to give her something, anything, and nothing comes out. Frustrated and embarrassed, you look to Tommy for help, but he gives the slight shake of his head, barely moving it. You’re on your own. 
Polly glances back at him, amusement in her sharp brown eyes. “Does she talk?”
“When she wants to.” His answer is immediate. His gaze flickers between the two of you, so neutral that you can’t read what he thinks, whether there’s shame in those deep blue eyes. Whether he regrets choosing you, out of all the women in Birmingham and England and Warwickshire. 
“Now would certainly be the time.” She looks back at you, expectant. “Have you not got anything to say for yourself?”
You bite your lip, gaze still on the ground beneath you, desperately wanting to speak, to be strong, to be the person you want to become. You know you can, know you’re capable, but your voice gets stuck and your heart freezes and your lungs stop working and suddenly you’re frozen in a panic you feel in your body but not in your mind. 
“I think speaking is a base-level necessity, Thomas.” She turns and starts the long walk out of the room, slowing as she passes him. “You could do better.”
“You don’t even know me.” You step forward, dragging your gaze off the ground to stare at the back of her head. She’s paused, listening as your cracked and clenched voice reaches her. “You have no idea what my life has looked like, and you decide that I’m not good enough just because I can’t always get the words out?”
She chuckles and turns to face you, that reserved smile back on her lips. “That’s more like it.” 
Your brow furrows. “Forgive me if I’m not as thrilled as you are.”
“Tommy told me you’d take some convincing. Worth the work, he said.” She moves back towards you, slow, languid, a panther pacing.
“Did he, now?” You shoot a look at him, and find his eyes away from you. “You planned this, did you?” 
He takes a drag from his cigarette, gaze still pointedly elsewhere. “Had to. Only way to get you talking.” 
“I see.” Your voice grows tight. “Was I all you expected, then, Mrs. Gray? Do I meet your expectations?” 
“It’s Polly.” Her smile stays, almost threatening in its own right, proof that no matter what you say, you will not shake the ground she stands on. “You don’t need to be like that. Tommy’s been needing a good woman on his arm. Glad to see he’s found one, after how the last one worked out.”
You laugh humorlessly. It’s supposed to be a compliment, you know this, but Polly also must know that any intelligent woman wants to be more than an ornament on a man’s arm, a trophy for him to parade. She underestimates you, views you as another pretty face, and you don’t know how to prove her otherwise. She’s not to be taken at face value, either. The Shelby’s, the whole lot of them, hide beneath a facade. Arthur’s is brute strength, John’s is humor, Tommy’s is intensity, and Polly’s is charm. Ada seems to be the only exception. 
“I think I do need to be like that, actually.” You cross your arms, fingers playing at the shirt you wear. “I’m stepping from one dangerous world to another. I’d rather keep my guard up, thanks.” 
“Danger comes from wanting more than what you have.” She glances at Tommy, quick and sweeping. “I doubt you’ll do that.” 
You’re at a loss for words. How do you explain to her that you never had the privilege of wanting more? How do you explain that you’re stuck as a child learning to crawl, and you can’t lift your head to see that others can walk? Her words point towards Tommy but squash you at the same time, making you simple and lesser.
“This is wanting more.” You look down. “This is more than I’ve ever had.” 
Your vulnerability earns you silence. You think that, in their world, no one wants to admit that they’ve been hurt, that they’ve been on the ground looking up at the sky, wishing they could fly like the birds. No one wants to admit that they’re human. And you just did exactly that. After a moment, you look up at them, afraid of what you’ll see but even more afraid of what you might miss. 
Polly’s eyes lock onto Thomas’. Quiet communication flows between them, something so quick that you can’t follow. Within a couple seconds, Tommy gives her a subtle nod, and she sighs. Her eyes shift back to you, searching your face for something. You swallow hard. Keep your head up, your shoulders back. Meet her eyes and let her peer into you. 
“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” she says to you, her tone softer than before, more welcoming. 
“I do.” You think it might be a lie. You think you’re stepping into a storm that you’ve never weathered before, thinking that you can save yourself while battling the wind.  
“And you.” She turns to face Tom again. “I hope you tell her what you’re doing.”
“I do.” His eyes flick to yours, and you immediately look away. You don’t feel warm towards him at the moment, don’t feel like allowing him the privilege of silent connection. 
“Alright.” She smiles faintly at you, then turns to start her walk out of the room. “Then my job here is done. See you at the meeting, Tom.” 
You watch her go, your heart in your throat. You close your eyes and fall into a brief fantasy where everything is simple and everything is good. In this world you aren’t battered or bruised, aren’t scarred or scared, and you’re brave enough to speak without being manipulated to do so. In this world you know that his ‘I do’ was not a lie like yours. In this dream you hold a knife and your hand does not shake when you lift it.
Tommy clears his throat and you open your eyes and the world of your creation disappears, and you’re left with the coldness of the dining room, the emptiness of the fifty seats, all but one unoccupied. You sit back down and place your head in your hands, your elbows on your knees. 
“Thomas,” you say, a little hesitant, a little scared. Now that Polly is gone, now that your own mask has dropped, there’s hollowness to your chest and a strange pulling sensation on your eyes, like you haven’t slept in days. “Am I just… work to you?” 
He stays where he is, leaning against the wall to your right, his suit jacket in one hand and his cigarette in the other. As usual, he seems to be searching for something in your expression, eyes observing the subtle changes in your face like one would study a newly-discovered animal. His jaw works slightly and he looks away. “Sometimes you are. Sometimes you aren’t.” 
You look down at your hands in your lap, your fingers pulling at each other until they hurt, then relaxing. “Oh.”
“Everything’s fucking work.” He gestures vaguely, voice too tense to be calm but too casual to be conflict.
“I’m not supposed to be work,” you say quietly. “I’m not supposed to be part of that.” 
He pauses, dropping his arm with the cigarette to his side and furrowing his brow slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, but you stand and speak before he can. 
“I need to get to the horses. I better go.” You start for the door, half hoping he’ll follow you, try to convince you to stay, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, watching you go in silence, his brow still furrowed in that strange, almost confused expression. 
You work in the orange hour of the evening, sweating and thirsty and hungry and ignoring all of it. Work, work, work, all of it a reminder that you yourself take up too much energy, that you’re a burden on those around you. You squint in the falling light and convince yourself that the extra liquid in your eyes comes from the dryness of the coming cold. 
You thought that, maybe, he’d tolerate you. That his lying and stealing and cheating and all the crime that creep through his bones would balance you out. That all the pent-up anger and vulnerability and broken promises and the gentleness of your touch would make up for the fact that it was you he was looking at, you he was pursuing. You didn’t want to be saved, you wanted to feel worthy of being saved. 
You’re a chore. You’re work. 
You retire to your house long after the sun has set, wiping the sweat from your brow and skipping the bath to crawl into bed. You don’t close your eyes. Staring out at the stars in the sky, wondering whether you’ll ever be small enough to fit into someone’s life. You’re a broken thing, and yet, you stare out at the sky like you did when you were a child, wanting to touch the stars even if they burned you. 
A few hours later, the clattering of machinery and the steady pound of horse hooves outside your house disturbs your stupor. You sit up in bed, trying to see through the haze of night. Squinting, the shape of a horse-drawn carriage comes vaguely into view. You catapult out of bed, pulling clothes on haphazardly, and your bare feet patter down on the cold wooden floor as you make your way to the kitchen. You unlock a drawer, open it, and pull out a gun, ready to defend yourself, unwilling to be a victim in your own home. 
You rush out into the night, and freezing air hits your face. You’re not dressed for the cold, wearing a simple short-sleeved shirt and pants. You hold the gun up, aiming carefully at the carriage from the doorstep, waiting for someone to draw a bead on. 
“Put the gun down.” Tommy’s voice calls from the carriage. You do as he says, stepping back into your house to place it back in its drawer. When you come back out, your eyes fall on a gleaming white horse, elegant and seemingly glowing in the night. 
“What the fuck?” You step down onto the driveway, slowly approaching Tommy, who holds the horse’s lead rope loosely, allowing him to hold his head up high, staring out into the darkness. 
“You didn’t get a horse from the track.” His quiet, irritatingly calm voice answers your question smoothly. “Figured you could use someone helping you.” 
“Tommy.” Conflicting thoughts bounce through your skull. You don’t want to see him, not after what he said, but he’s brought you a horse all the way from the racetrack, something that usually costs you a few months worth of savings. You open your mouth, then close it and shake your head, not knowing what to say. 
“His track name is ‘Watch Me Forever.’” He reaches out a hand to stroke the stallion’s neck. “Needs a barn name.” 
“This is the gray you liked. The one with the broken leg.”
“Paid to have it fixed. A few months of recovery and he’ll be ready.” 
“Tommy.” You resist the urge to punch his chest. “You can’t just do that!”
“Why not?”
“Now I’m— I’m in debt to you.” You shake your head. “You can’t do this.”
The stallion’s neck arches and he reaches down his soft pink nose to sniff at you, ears forward, eyes soft. Tommy is quiet for a moment, and all that’s heard between you is the warm breath of the horse. 
When he speaks, it’s not the usual, well thought out, precisely planned phrasing. It’s awkward and rambling and, you have to admit, endearing. “Gentling a horse is work. It’s not easy. Teaches you more about yourself than it does about the damn horse. Makes you a better person; more patient, kinder. It’s— It’s work, but if I could choose between that and anything else, I’d choose the horse every fucking time. Does this make any sense?” 
You stare at him, and a weight lifts off of you. “Yes. I think it does.” 
His eyes search your face, soft and beseeching. “You understand me?” 
“Thank you for explaining what you meant, Tom. I forgive you. I—” You hold back the cliches bubbling in your throat, trying to push you to say something too soon, too recklessly. “I understand you.” 
He nods, looking as relieved as you feel. His eyes turn back to the stallion, his posture straightening, his expression moving back to something harsher, more businessman-like.  “What will you call him, then?”
“I think… I think Iris is good.” You stroke his soft nose, looking at his eyes, one blue, one brown
“That’s a woman’s name.” 
“It’s a fucking flower, Tom. Flowers don’t have gender.”
He shrugs. “Iris it is, then. Iris it is.”
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twvstedsouls · 2 months
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S2.04 - PEAKY BLINDERS
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nyasiaaaaa · 2 months
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In the Bleak Mid-Winter
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Fem reader (Nurse)  Fem reader x Arthur ( platonic )
Summary: This is a story about two people who become constants in each others lives, and eventually fall for each. While one learns to love again, the other learns the cost of loving a man like him. 
Word count: 5k
Warnings: Cursing, angst, fluff ,Tommy Shelby, y/n eats ( If I missed anything or you think something should be added please tell me.) Major character death from season 4 episode like 1/2
A/N: part 1 takes place during season two, part 2/3 season 3 and 4/5/6 season 4. This is a Slow burn there will be smut eventually. 
Part 1  Part 2  Part 3  Part 4   part 5
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It's been a year. 
A lot of things have changed since then; you've changed. 
You're not the same person you were a year ago; you're still a nurse and still work in the hospital, but in London now. 
You know the other nurse in hospital like the last, you eat lunch together but never go out. They always ask, but you always have the same excuse. 
It's not like you're lying. You really don't have anyone to watch her, but if you wanted to, you could find someone, but don't. Honestly, though, you prefer the company of a bottle of whiskey over anyone else. 
You also never have the energy to do anything anymore; you wake up throughout the night, then wake up to go to work, come home tired from a 12-hour shift, and go to sleep to do it all over again. 
You barely eat, you barely sleep. 
When you look in the mirror, you're just a hollow version of yourself, like you don't have control over your body. You're just sitting back as it goes through the motions, as someone else controls you. 
She's not the only reason you can't sleep; if she's not waking you up because of her screams, you're waking yourself up with your own. 
These nightmares are so haunting that most times, after you wake up, you just stay up. 
And that's where you're at now, waking up from a dream like every other night. 
You thrash around in your bed and suddenly wake up coughing as you grab hold of your throat. You get up from your bed, covered in sweat, and walk downstairs to the kitchen, rubbing your chest as you catch your breath. 
You walk around the corner to the kitchen and instantly jump when you see someone sitting at your table in the dark. The old you would've freaked, grabbed your gun and threatened them.
But you now couldn't care less; you just grabbed two glasses and a bottle of whiskey off the drink table. You bring it over and set it down, pouring the whiskey into each cup, filling it halfway, and then sliding one over to your companion. 
You then sit down and take a swing of your drink before reaching for your pack of cigarettes. 
"Want one," you ask, holding a cig out to them.
They take it, and you pull out one more for yourself; you then strike up a match, reaching towards them to light theirs first; once they got closer to the flame, it became clear who was sitting at this table with you. 
You light the cigarette, then pull the match to light your own; you take a drag, hold it in, and then blow it out. You do this action a couple more times, and neither of you says a word as you smoke; you both just sit there in silence. 
You finish up your cig, put it out in the ashtray, then proceed  to light another. Again, you smoke in silence, but this time, as you're almost finished with your cig, you speak up. 
"I thought you would've sent Micheal," You say as you reach to ash your cig in the ashtray.
He finishes up his cig, putting it out before responding to you. "He was busy," he shrugs. 
"'M honestly, I would've preferred Micheal." You put your cig out and then took a sip of your drink.
"Well, looks like you're out of luck 'cause I'm here." 
"Yes, you are; please do tell me why it is that you're here after all this time." 
"We got served a black hand," he spoke with such seriousness, but you were confused. 
"Ok, am I supposed to know what that means or what it has to do with me" 
He took a deep breath and said, "We have to tighten house. We killed one of theirs way back, and now they're coming to get even." 
You pursed your lips and turned your head to the side, slightly shrugging your shoulders. "And what does that have to do with me." 
"They killed John." 
"May he rest in peace? "even though you didn't mean for it to, it had come out more like a question than a statement. 
"But again, what does this have to do with me," you asked
He let out a dry laugh, licking his lips, then got up and got in your face. He took hold of your wrist and bent down to your height. 
"Because the Italian Mafia doesn't care if you don't fuck with me, they are going to kill everyone that has ever spoken to me, anyone who's ever been close to me to hurt me to break me down before killing me."
Even though he tried to seem calm and collected, you couldn't see it in his eyes or face, but you could hear it in his voice. 
He was hurting. 
You ripped your wrist from his grip and stood up, moving closer to him and getting in his face. 
"Well, Tommy, it seems like you have a real problem on your hands; best of luck to you." You smiled at him, then stood up and began to walk away
Suddenly, you were pushed against the wall and turned to face him. 
"Look, I—"his speech was cut short once he heard a cry coming from upstairs; his eyes darted down to you, his head tilted as he looked at you. 
"Tommy, I-"you start but stop once Tommy pushes off you.
You tried to get past him to go up the steps first, but he pulled out a gun on you and pushed you back into the kitchen. He slowly took a step back as you took steps forward.
"Do it, Do it, Tommy. Be a man. Do it," You said as you walked forward; you held your head high as you spoke so there was no room for doubt on Tommy's part. 
He looked at you, puzzled, then shut the door in your face. You immediately rushed to the door, but it was too late. He locked it. You tightened your grip on the door knob as you jiggled it relentlessly, 
"Tommy…. Fuck— Tommy, please" You were starting to panic; you had to get to her first. 
You dashed over to the drawers and started to throw everything out and slam it shut as you moved on to the next one. The key was in one of these drawers; it had to be you had remembered putting it in here you—
You found it in the last drawer; you ran over to the door but slipped on the things you had thrown on the floor and fell on your back, making the key fall out of your hand. You hop on your knees, ignoring the pain in your back that grew with every move you made as you searched the now messy floor for the key; you can already barely see because of the darkness, but the tears that start to build only make it worse. 
Your hand brushed against something sharp, and you turned your head in its direction as you stretched your hand out again, patting it around. Your hand instantly comes in contact with the cold metal key. You grab it, rushing to the door. You try to place the key in the door, but it keeps brushing past the hole. 
You stopped, took a deep breath, and tried again, and despite your shaking hand, you were able to place the key in and unlock the door. As soon as the door opens, you ran up the step to her room. 
It's too late. 
You walk into the room and see Tommy holding your daughter in his hands. 
Without thinking, you say, "She's not yours." 
It's a lie, you know it, and so does he. Anyone could see from a mile away that she was his, and it's not like she looked like him or you even; she was still too young to look like anyone. But she had those eyes, the same eyes her father had. 
You look up at Tommy and know you are in trouble. He had just met her, and already he was in love. He was already hell-bent on taking you with him, but now that he knew of her, there was no way he was letting y'all go. 
You're about to speak up but get cut off by some men behind you.
"We're here, Mr.Shebly. What do you want us to do?" 
You didn't turn around to see if you knew the men; you just kept your eyes forced ahead on Tommy. 
"Pack up the house, everything; we'll go through it later and see what we want." He barely spoke above a whisper and never looked up as he slowly rocked your baby back and forth. 
"Oi sir and your car is ready when you are." 
"Thank you, curly." 
They left, leaving you and Tommy alone. 
You opened your mouth to speak but didn't know what to say, so you stood there like a gaping fish as you struggled to find words. 
"It doesn't matter what you say; tonight, you will leave here with me, and so will the baby. You can put up a fight, but we will drug you if we must." The way he spoke, you knew he meant it; there would not be a fight, you couldn't take on Tommy, let alone all the men downstairs.
 So you just nodded your head, ok. 
Satisfied with your answer, he proceeded to exit the room but then stopped and turned towards you. 
"What's her name," he asks. 
"Ruby" 
"Ruby," He whispers, "Hi. Ruby, grab what you want and meet me in the car," He says, then leaves and goes downstairs. 
You want to cry, tear the room to pieces, throw a fit, and just sit there and cry. But you can't, so you make yourself and your daughter a travel bag, packing only what you need and leaving the rest for the guys to pack up. 
You finish packing and head upstairs; you walk past the men packing up your kitchen and head straight for the car. Once you're outside, you see a man waiting for you by the backseat door; he opens it for you as you approach it. You walk up to him, handing off your luggage, giving him a smile, and thanking him before sliding in next to Tommy, who's still holding your daughter tight to his chest. 
The driver places your stuff in the trunk, runs over to the driver's side, and hops in, wasting no time. He takes off instantly, driving to a destination unknown to you. 
 You glance over at Tommy, who is still in awe at seeing your daughter. You don't even try to take your baby away from Tommy, knowing that he will hold her as long as he can. 
So you sit there staring out the window, saying goodbye to the place you've called home for the past year, and try not to cry.
************************
For a long time, you were confused; you knew this wasn't the way to Tommy's house. It was east, and you had been heading west. You were about to ask where you were going, but then you started to recognize your surroundings, the shops you've walked past hundreds if not thousands of times. You even saw some people you knew past patients. 
You were back in Birmingham. 
Soon after you cross the line into Birmingham, it doesn't take long for you to reach your destination; you pull up next to many small townhomes. 
 Before you  get the chance, your door is opened for you, thanking the driver as you step out and observe your surroundings.  
"Where are we, Tommy," you ask. 
"We're home," he says simply, then starts making his way into one of the homes. 
You follow closely behind him as he steps into the house; you take in your new surroundings as you follow him; there are steps directly in front of you and a living room to your right that leads Into a kitchen. As soon as you step into the living room following Tommy, you're greeted by a maid who cut you off as you are about to ask Tommy another question. 
"Welcome back, Mr. Shebly. I set Charlie down for a nap upstairs a few minutes ago and just put dinner in the oven. Do you need anything else from me before I go" 
"No, Mary, that will be all thank you."
"It's not a problem, Mr.Shelby," she said, then went to leave but suddenly stopped at the door. "Oh, and I've had a bassinet put upstairs per your request." She gave both of you a tight smile, shutting the door as she exits, leaving you and Tommy alone. 
Tommy doesn't say a word as he turns away from you and walks upstairs; you're about to start looking around when a knock comes at the door. You get to the front to open it and is greeted by the driver, who has your bags in hand. You reach out, taking them from his hands and setting them to the side before giving him a smile. 
"Thank you so much; hold on, let me find my purse to pay you," you say as you step away from him in search of your bags.
The driver quickly stops you in your tracks when he calls after you using a name you've never heard associated with you. 
"Oi, that's quite alright, Mrs.Shebly; Tommy pays me good," he said, giving you a smile, then shuts the door before you could even correct him. 
"Ok," you say yourself as you shrug it off; you turn around just in time to see Tommy walking down the step, and you notice that your daughter is no longer in his hand. You assumed he must've put her down upstairs in the crib Mary set up. 
Once he gets down the steps, he immediately makes his way toward the Living room. He sits down in one of the chairs, and you decide to take a seat across from him. 
He pulls out his pack of cigs, offers you one, which you accept, and then takes one for himself. His lights yours first, then his own. You take a couple drags of your cig, then begin asking him a million questions you have swimming around in your head. 
"How long do we have to stay here," you ask as you blow out smoke and then take another drag. 
He shrugs his shoulders as he waves his hand around in no particular manner, "for however long it takes." 
You press your lips tightly and roll your eyes; you take a deep breath and let it out as you speak again, "Are we staying here with you."
"Yeah" 
"Is it safe?" 
"Yeah, you will have two guards stationed outside 24/7." 
"And where will you be?" 
"Out" 
"So Tommy, let me get this straight: I'm supposed to stay here for who knows how long, under constant surveillance from your men, and I'm assuming I'm not allowed to leave." You paused, waiting for an answer, to which he gave you a slight nod back. "Right, so basically, I'm a prisoner; I'm your prisoner. I'm not ok with that, Tommy. I-" 
Arthur suddenly burst through your door, calling out for Tommy. 
"Oi Tommy, I- "Arthur paused once his eyes landed on you; a big smile slowly crept up his face as he started making his way towards you.
"Sista, it's good to see you," Arthur said as he hugged you, picking you up slightly. 
"It's good to see you too...... I'm so sorry about John," you said as you hugged him back, and you were being honest. You didn't miss anything from your old life, but Arthur. After all the years, y'all were around each other. He truly started to feel like the brother you never had. 
Arthur pulled back from you slightly and looked you in the eyes; you gave him a tight smile, then pulled him back closer and hugged him tighter. 
Arthur pulled back again as he asked you a question, "Oi, I heard I had a niece. Where she." 
Before you were able to answer his question, Tommy interrupted you. 
"Are you two finished yet" You heard Tommy ask from behind you, making Arthur drop you. 
"Sorry, Tommy," he chuckled as he stepped further from you. "There's been an incident down at the boat house; we need you down there." 
"Thank you, Arthur; I'll meet you outside," Tommy said, then went into the kitchen to gather his things. 
Arthur gave you a small smile and whispered a quick bye before heading outside. 
You turn to face Tommy, who is putting on his coat; you see his collar sticking up, so you go over to him to help him fix it. You grab onto the jacket and pull him in close to you. 
"When will you be back?" You ask as you pat down his collar.
"When I'm finished" 
"That's not cool, Tommy; we have things we need to talk about." You grab on his collar and tighten. 
He gave you a look that you could only describe as assumed, then pulled you off him, holding your wrist in his hands. 
"And we will when I get back," he said, dropping your wrist and walking away. He suddenly stopped and turned around to face you. "Watch Charlie for me," He said with a tight smile, then reached for the door. 
You are so fed up with his bullshit that you pick up the first thing your hands touched and throw it at him. 
"Fuck you, Tommy" You screamed at him as the glass cup left your hands. 
Your aim is ass, so the cup smashed against the wall next to him, missing him by a couple feet. But still, it stopped him in his tracks; he stood there for a second, then turned around to face you, gave you a smug smile, then said
"You already did love." 
He quickly went to the door, leaving you there standing there stunned. 
You're so mad at him for coming into your life (again), picking you up, and dragging you into his mess (again). He constantly treats you like gum on the bottom of his shoe, and you're tired of it. 
You have this anger building up inside you; you're so mad, so you do the only thing you can think of. 
You scream.
You stand there and scream; you yell out towards the ceiling; you scream till your lungs start to burn. And then you collapse onto the floor. 
How did you end up here again? You thought you finally got away from this life. 
Before you had a chance to wallow in your self-pity, you heard a cry come from upstairs. You get slowly and make your way up the narrow stairs. Once you get upstairs, you notice there are only two rooms upstairs, one the bathroom and the other the bedroom. 
You enter the bedroom and see Charlie still fast asleep on the bed, the only bed, you might add. Your baby cried from her bassinet, and you went over, picking her up and rocked her  back and forth in her arms. She must've heard your scream and got startled. You were really loud; you're shocked that Charlie didn't wake up. 
You were able to get her back to sleep quite quickly; you placed her back in her bassinet and walked out the door back downstairs. 
As you walked down the steps, you started to sniff the air around you; it smelled like something was burning. 
You took off sprinting towards the kitchen once you remembered the dinner Mary said she had placed in the oven. You yanked the oven open and reached in to take the pan out. 
You jump back, saying a million curse words as you immediately pull your thumb in your mouth. You are so out of it that you forgot an oven mitt. You suck on your thumb for a couple of more seconds as you glance around the kitchen till your eyes land on the oven mitt. You grab them off the counter, head back to the oven, and pull the pot, placing it on the top of the stove. 
You open the pot, and to your surprise, it's a chicken roast dinner, and it's not that burnt, only a bit; really, it just looks extra crispy. 
You place the top back on and glance down at the clock next to the stove; it's barely a quarter past three. 
You decide to let the meal cool down, you get your bag from the door, and put it up where you see best upstairs. 
After you finished unpacking what you had on hand, you pre-made a couple of bottles for your daughter and then joined Charlie in the bed for a little nap after scooting him over a bit. 
That boy sleeps wild.
***********************
You felt yourself being shaken back and forth softly as if it was too hard for the person to push you. You open your eyes slowly and squint as they try to adjust to the dark; you look around the room in search of the person who worked you up, and soon, your eyes land on the smaller version of Thomas Shelby. 
The little boy turned his head to the side as she looked at you curiously. 
You sat up on your elbows and took a quick glance over to the clock next to you; it was seven on the dot. You turned back and looked over at Charlie, who was still looking at you.
"Yes, Charlie," you asked. 
"I'm hungry; where, Da," he asked, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands. 
"He's out right now; I'm here. Is that ok," you asked; he nodded slowly in response.
"Ok, good, I have some food downstairs for you; we just have to get the baby up and well go, ok." 
"Baby?"
"Yeah, come look." You stood up, grabbed him, placed him on your hip, and showed him the baby below. 
"Who that" 
You thought about your answer before you responded to him. You didn't see the harm in telling him the truth, so you said, "She's your sister; her name is Ruby." 
He turned up to look at you so quick that you thought he gave himself whiplash. 
"My sista," he gasped and then tried to reach down to touch her.
"Yep, but wait, be careful, I'll put you down, and I'll grab her and show you." 
You put him down softly and then pick up your little girl; she begins to stir as you gently pick her up. You turned to see Charlie sitting waiting patiently with his feet swinging off the side of the bed. 
You sat down next to him and turned your body to face him; he glanced down at the baby, up at you, and down at the baby again. 
"Wow!" He said, then jumped down from the bed and took hold of your hand.
"Come on, me and baby hungry," he said, leading you downstairs. 
Once you got downstairs, you had him sit at the small table in the kitchen, and you kept Ruby in your arms as you fixed him a plate and then yourself. You warmed both plates on the stove and grabbed a pre-made bottle from the fridge while you waited. 
You sat down next to Charlie and offered him a proposition: "You want to feed her with me." 
He shook his head up and down so fast and tried to reach out to her. 
You pulled away from him slightly. "Wait, I'll hold her, and you hold the bottle, ok?"
He nodded and waited for you to give him the bottle; you showed him how to hold the bottle at an angle best for the baby and then let him take over. 
He reached over you slightly as he held the bottle to Ruby, and she took it instantly, drinking fast. 
After she was finished, you took her back upstairs to sleep; when you came back down, your food was finished warming, so you took both your plates out and cut up the food for him before handing it to him. 
Together, y'all both sat at the table and ate in silence.
"Are you my new ma" 
The piece of chicken you placed in your mouth instantly went down the wrong pipe, and you started to cough, your eyes began to water as your chest tightened. You reach for your glass of water on the table as you beat against your chest. 
As you drank your water, you glanced over at Charlie, who had started playing with his food. You cleared your throat a couple of times as you rubbed against it and drank more water, then set the cut back down next to your plate. 
You smack your lips against your teeth as you begin to speak. "Umm, w-what makes you uhhh what makes you say that." 
Charlie shrugged his causal shoulders, still glancing down at his food. "You're staying here with me and da; you sleep in the same bed as me and da and your baby’s ma." 
You tilted your head to the side, a puzzled look dancing across your face; you leaned down closer to Charlie and asked him a question, "You're four right." 
"Yep," he said, popping a piece of chicken in his mouth. 
"Um, yeah, no, Charlie, I'm not your "new" ma, and if I was, I wouldn't be your new ma, just another one, ok. Cause you ma Grace will always be your ma." 
He didn't say anything back to you, just nodded back slowly; it was clear that he was full now and probably was sleepy again. You assumed that you both had a long day of travel and these significant changes would take a second to get used to. 
You took both plates away, deciding that you were also finished eating; you quickly cleaned the plates and placed them in the drying rack. After you put the pot of food in the fridge, you pick Charlie up, take him upstairs with you. 
By the time your foot hit the last step, Charlie was somehow fast asleep; you brought him into the bedroom and carefully placed him down in the middle of the bed. You grab the covers, bring them over his body, and tuck him in slightly. 
After you check on your baby and find her still fast asleep. You decide to go back downstairs and sit in the living room to wait for Tommy; he should be home soon; he has been gone for hours now. Whatever he had to work on should be done by now……. Right?
.
.
.
You feel your oxygen supply getting cut off, and you start to struggle to breathe; you try to turn your head but to no avail because whatever's is on top of you is keeping you in place.
You begin to panic as you realize that you are asleep and have to force yourself away to be able to deal with whatever is keeping you from breathing. 
You feel your fingers begin twitching, then your eyes, and finally, after what seems like forever, you're able to open your eyes.
You squint your eyes as you try to help them adjust to the darkness, but it's still pitch black; you soon realize that the reason you can't see isn't because it's dark but because something lays on top of you. 
You lift your hand cautiously as you slowly lift Charlie's body off your head and back into the middle.
You lay there for a second as you try to catch your breath, then slowly, you sit up to check on your daughter, seeing as she has yet to wake you for a bottle tonight. You take a quick peek over into her bassinet. 
She's not there. 
You quickly shoot up in a panic, thinking your eyes are playing jokes on you, but once you get closer to the bassinet, you can confirm that she is not in there. 
You try to take deep to calm yourself down, but it gets caught in your throat as you slowly begin to spiral, and your mind starts to race with a million questions.
Where is she?
How could I not hear someone take her? 
When did I get up here? 
.
.
.
Wait, you pause for a second and try to think back to tonight. You didn't get in the bed. You remember waiting on the couch for Tommy; you must've fallen asleep, but how did you get up here?
Your head quickly pans over your shoulder, and in the bed next to Charlie, you see Tommy and your daughter lying on his chest and a half-empty bottle on the nightstand next to him. 
Relief floods your body as you slowly sit back down on the bed; you look back over at Tommy. The sight before you is truly something; if Tommy wasn't the devil reincarnated, it might make your heart swell. But instead, you're sitting there contemplating whether or not to get her off him and place her back in her bed. 
She seems fine, and there isn't much room for her or Tommy to roll around plus the risk of having to deal with her waking up in a sour mood if you move her isn't something you feel like doing right now. 
You lay back in bed next to Charlie, deciding to leave them be. 
As you fall back to sleep, instead of counting sheep, you tell yourself repeatedly.
That this is just for now and that
Thomas Shelby is in your past and not your future. 
***********************
Tag list:
@thhriller@macchiadinchiostro @naevisct @johnmurphys-sass @fannibalsrule @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @sis7890
I apologize if y/n having a kid is a huge turn-off for some people, mainly because there isn't any warning, and we're so deep into the story. I wanted it to be a surprise, but again, I'm sorry. Also, this isn't the last part. There are two more, and then that's it; I broke it down because I felt like having everything In one or two parts would've made it seem like Y/n and Tommy's end result would become too quick and not in a organic way. Also, I've been told this story gives dead doves don't cry or something like that; it's not, I promise, a happy end or as happy as person can be with Thomas Shelby. Anyways, thanks for reading. The story should be finished and fully uploaded all parts by Friday, Feb 9th.
P.S: I can't tell if this chapter is shitty or not I was just trying to get it out for yall so I'm sorry if it is.
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tommyshelbyswh0re · 6 months
Text
the forgotten daughter- Tommy Shelby
summary- tommy sent his daughter away because she was a burden he wasn’t ready for. she went 12 years without seeing him once, what happens when she gets an invitation to his wedding?
trigger warning- talks of abuse, neglect, rape, violence, illness.
angst
dad!tommy shelby x daughter!reader
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you were 6 when you were sent away to a girls school in manchester. your father, thomas shelby, had told you that ‘he couldn’t be a father’ and that he was ‘too busy to be burdened with a child’. you were now 18 and hadn’t seen your family since. the last time you had received a letter from your father was when you were 17 and it was to inform you about the birth of his son, charles shelby.
you were enraged. it was unfair that he saw charles as a blessing and you as a burden. that he could step up to be a father then but not 17 years ago. you had practically raised yourself for the last 12 years. every birthday you stole a cupcake from the canteen at the school and sung yourself happy birthday. every christmas you receive pitying looks from the nuns because you were one of the only children to stay in the four walls of your dormitory whilst all the other girls spent time with their families.
you had just finished your last year and was lucky enough to get a job straight out of straight out of school which allowed you to buy yourself a small flat. you sent a letter to your father to let him know that you were safe and you gave him your address although you never knew whether he received the letter because he never wrote back. until a week ago when he sent you a wedding invitation.
deciding to attend was the easiest decision. you knew you wanted to see him one last time before you ultimately cut all communication and moved on, knowing that there was no point in hoping he would acknowledge you as his daughter. you were however grateful that he paid for your education, even if he did abandon you for 12 years.
you used your savings to buy a new dress before getting the train to birmingham and paying for a taxi to the church. as you stood outside the venue you pondered on whether this was a good idea, but you knew you had to do this in order to accept that you were alone in this world. you sat at the back with your head down for the entirety of the ceremony. you didn’t even put your head up to see the bride. as selfish as it sounded, you didn’t care for the wedding and you did not care about their happiness.
when the ceremony was finished, you stood outside of the church with a cigarette in your hand whilst your ‘family’ took photos. next to you, a gentleman was doing the same thing. he was also glaring at the family and you wondered what his issue was.
“what did they do to you?” you scoffed.
“huh?” he raised his brow
“if looks could kill, they’d be slaughtered by now” you joked.
“i just don’t like the groom” he shrugged.
“me neither” you agreed. “y/n” you reached your hand out to shake his.
“alfie” he reciprocated. “so why don’t you like him?” he asked.
“im his daughter” you nonchalantly replied.
“never new tom had a daughter”
“yeah he seems to forget aswell” you shrugged.
“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“it means he shipped me away for 12 years whilst he fucked off and had a family” you smiled. “fancy giving me a lift to this reception?” you linked his arm.
“absolutely. i think we will get along just fine” he grunted. and you smiled at him.
you both walked to his car and he held the door open for you. “didn’t take you for a gentleman” you bantered.
“is it the cockney accent that gave you that impression?” he wondered. which made you laugh.
“i suppose so” you climbed into the passenger seat and he climbed into the drivers. he started the car and drove towards what you were guessing was your fathers house, not that you’d ever been there.
“so tell me about the relationship with your father y/n” he delved straight in.
“wow you waste no time” you scoffed. “well he impregnated my mother, she died during childbirth, he lazily raised me for 6 years before telling me he couldn’t be a father and shipped me off to boarding school in manchester for 12 years and didn’t visit me once” you shrugged. it didn’t bother you anymore. you have accepted that even though he’s your dad, he’s never really been your father. he never tucked you into bed and read you a bedtime story, he never looked after you when you were ill, he never threatened your first date when he came to the door, he never took you for your first alcoholic drink and he will never walk you down the aisle at your wedding. and even though sometimes you just really need your father to tell you everything is going to be ok, you have been alone for 12 years and managed. you can go the rest of your life.
“oh. daddy issues then?” he tried to banter which made you laugh.
“you could say so yes” you replied.
“so if he’s such a shit dad why did you come to the wedding?” he pondered.
“i need closure. after this we will never ever speak again. all form of communication will be cut off.” you said with confidence.
“fair enough” alfie replied. he felt bad for the girl. she had never had a parent in her life. she had been neglected. and he could tell that even though she gave off the impression that she wasn’t bothered by it, he knew she was hurt deep down. so he left it at that.
for the rest of the drive you spoke about all sorts. your job, where you live, his job and where he lives. it was nice. and when your ‘fathers’ house came into view, you were in shock.
“are you fucking kidding me?” you whispered under your breathe. you don’t know why it was the house that made your heart drop, but it was a reminder that you were unwanted. that your father had abandoned you and started a new family that he lived with and looked after in the ridiculously large fucking house. and then came the lump in your throat.
“you ok?” alfie asked. he could tell that she was not.
you took a deep breath. “yes” you nodded and got out of the car. all the guests started showing up at the same time. you waited for alfie to get out of the car before you went in. he linked arms with you and you both walked in.
the first thing you saw was a stair case with large portraits of the family of three. it made you laugh.
“arrogant arseholes” you whispered to alfie which made him laugh. and it was then that you really looked at them. there was a portrait of what you’re guessing is your father, his new wife and his child. that was the first time you saw mrs grace shelby and charles shelby. and as bad as it sounds, you resented them. you resented grace for not encouraging your father to get to know you which sounds stupid and irrational but you couldn’t help it. you knew logically that it’s not your fault that the relationship between you and your father was none existent. it was his. and you resented charles for having the father you needed and wanted. that was supposed to be you. and again it’s irrational because he’s a child and it’s not his fault but you just felt so angry. so you looked away.
a waiter passed by with a tray of champagne and took a flute and chugged it. this concerned alfie. he didn’t want you to get drunk and say something to your ‘family’ that you would later regret.
“go easy” he sternly told you.
you glared at him.
from the other side of the room, john and arthur had noticed you.
“who is that linking arms with alfie?” arthur asked john.
“i think it might be y/n” john squinted.
“y/n y/n, as in tommy daughter y/n?” arthur responded.
“yeah, kind of looks like ‘er” john smiled.
“well why the fuck has she got her arm around alfie soloman’s” arthur said angrily.
“i don’t know, he’s like 15 years older than her” john looked confused. before tommy came up behind them. “need you in the kitchen now” tommy demanded.
“did you know y/n is here?” john asked him.
“who?” tommy asked
“your daughter, y/n” said arthur.
“what? where?” tommy looked around before he saw you.
“why the fuck is she linking alfie, and why is she downing champagne? she’s a child” tommy asked.
“that’s what we were wondering. and tommy she’s not a child, she’s like 18 now isn’t she?” john asked.
just as tommy hummed, he made eye contact with you and it was you who looked away as soon as it happened. he truly saw you for the first time in 12 years. you were a woman now. he couldn’t help but notice how beautiful you were. you looked like the spitting image of your mother with your y/e/c coloured eyes and your soft y/h/c coloured hair. and all of a sudden he had a wave of guilt come over him. he knew he’d been a shitty father towards you, but he never really thought about it until that moment. he felt like shit and so he did what he does best and walked away.
on the other side of the room, you had just made eye contact with your father for the first time in 12 years. you had seen him in the papers so you knew he hadn’t really changed. but making eye contact felt so awkward for you. this was the man whose dna you shared and yet you felt no father-daughter connection with him. you just felt hurt. and so you chugged another flute of champagne. to which alfie’s concern grew even more.
the announcement was made that there was food in the other room as they asked everyone to move there.
you and alfie made your way to the table. you sat next to eachother. you looked around and saw your great aunt pol sat opposite you.
“is that you y/n?” she smiled.
“hello” you suddenly felt shy.
“hello darling” she replied. sat next to her was ada.
“how have you been y/n?” she asked.
“good, i graduated school”
“oh brilliant, do you work?” pol asked
“yes, i have a secretary job working at a factory and i’m a barmaid on the weekends”
“why two jobs?” ada asked
“moneys tight, have to be able to pay the bills on my flat”
“tom doesn’t give you money?” she responded
“why would he?” you asked.
“because you’re his daughter” ada said to which you shrugged. this conversation made pol and ada sad. they realised they truly knew nothing about you and your life. they also knew that tommy hadn’t been the best to you, but again, it didn’t dawn on them how neglectful they had also been.
“you recently turned 18 didn’t you?” pol asked.
“yes”
“did you do anything for your birthday?” she asked.
“not really. just went to work, went to the bakery on the way back home and bought a cupcake and went to bed” you shrugged. that was your routine of 12 years.
“you didn’t celebrate with friends?” they asked
“don’t have any” your shrugged.
“what about school friends?”
“well they all knew eachother because their parents were friends so they would see eachother outside of school” and this made pol and ada feel even worse, you truly were alone.
“well i’m sorry we didn’t come and see you, we were just so busy preparing the wedding” ada smiled.
“it’s ok, i didn’t expect anyone to”
arthur got up from his seat to do the best man speech.
“hello everyone, before you eat i just want to say a few words as best man. my brother tommy met grace in 1919, obviously at that point we didn’t know she was a spy from the parish” at this, you looked up to the top of the table for the first time to see arthur and john for the first time, and then you looked towards your dad. he had an uncomfortable face on him, obviously not expected arthur to bring such a thing up in his speech.
you chugged another flute of champagne. and now, alfie, pol and ada all grew concern for you.
“-anyway, enough about that. these two were destined for eachother. if tom can forgive her for it then it shows how much he loves her. tom doesn’t really love anyone besides grace and charles” and at this, your father looked in your direction to see you chugging another flute of champagne. your 4th in the space of an hour. his eyebrow raised.
“-they are the perfect family. tommy, grace and charles. when grace was pregnant with charles you should have seen tommy. constantly talking about how this is all he’s ever wanted. he was bouncing of the walls” a lump formed in your throat. because he already had a child. you.
ada and pol looked in your direction to see your head facing down and you picking at your nails. a nervous habit you have.
“when charles was born, you couldn’t get the smile off tommys face for weeks. it’s obvious he loves his little family. it didn’t take long for tommy to finally start taking days off work for once to take grace and charles on days out. i remember the first time tommy took a week off to take charles away in the caravan.”
you could feel your heart beat speeding up and tears forming in your eyes. and you sneakily tried to wipe them away. but alfie noticed. and he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed it.
“i remember the dark circles under his eyes when charles had a cold and wouldn’t settle and tommy had been up with him all night”
your dad looked in your direction to see you wiping a tear off you face and put your head up. and he saw the disappointment in your eyes. and he was disappointed in himself. he knew then that he hadn’t been a father towards you. he can’t remember a single night where he stayed up with you as a child and helped settle you. it was mostly ada and pol who raised you for them 6 years.
“grace. we love you, you came into tommys life and made it better. you gave him something to live for, a child” at this you stood up and walked out of the room. at this it dawned on all the family what had happened. arthur hadn’t realised how big he was fucking up until your shoes clacked against the floor as you speed walked out of the room. “shit” tom whispered. grace looked very confused as to what was happening. alfie stood up and went after you.
he found you sat on a step with your head in your hands. he quietly sat next to you and out his hand on your back and rubbed it. neither of you said anything and you just sat there and cried for the first time in 4 years.
a minute later, tommy came out. alfie glared at him. “go away mate” he whispered gesturing to you crying.
“i want to speak to my daughter privately” tommy demanded.
“haven’t you done enough. why now?” alfie asked him as he got up of the step.
“please” tommy pleaded. he looked desperate.
“don’t say anything stupid” alfie warned as he walked back into the other room. tommy sat next to you. you still had your face in your hands and he could just hear you sniffling. it broke his heart.
“im sorry y/n i know i haven’t been the best father” you scoffed.
“you’ve not been a father at all” you muffled from behind your hands.
“i know” he nodded.
“i haven’t been there for you at all. especially in the last 12 years. but i want to start” he tried to put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off. and pulled your face away from you hands.
“it’s too late. i’ve managed on my own for 12 years i can do it for the rest of my life” you turned to him.
“everyone needs someone y/n, trust me. i didn’t know it until i met grace” he sincerely said.
“maybe. but i’m fine without you in my life.”
“you don’t mean that” tommy shook his head.
“i really do. i have my own flat, a job and food in my cupboards. i don’t need you. i will never forgive you. you abandoned me for years. you neglected me. i spent twelve years in the same institute. christmas’s and half terms included. i was stuck in a building with people who would hit, kick and spit on me whenever i did the slightest thing wrong. i spent my 18th birthday being brutally raped by 3 men on my way home from the fucking bakery. i had to nurse myself back to health whenever i was ill. you weren’t there. you don’t need to be here now.” you shouted.
“y/n i- i don’t even know what to say. i overheard you talking to pol and you never mentioned that that’s what happened” you shook your head.
“its not really dinner talk is it.”
“i swear i will hunt those men down and make them hurt” he had a determined look on his face.
“too late. it’s already happened. they’ve already told me that if i tell anyone they’ll come after me” you shrugged.
“they won’t touch you, i’ll protect you”
“for how long? two weeks before you decide i’m too much of a burden again” you shook your head.
“you remember that?” he asked
“what? you telling me that i’m a burden? you don’t just forget your parent telling you that. sticks with you”
“i am so sorry y/n”
“yeah well i’ll get over it. coming to this wedding was a fucking mistake.” you sighed
“why did you come?” he asked.
“i wanted to see my family one last time before i cut all communication. not that any of yous care”
“come with me y/n” he got up and gestured for me to follow.
“why?” you questioned
“just come with me” he started walking so you followed.
you came to a stop infront of a door. he opened it and gestured for you to come inside.
you entered and quickly realised this was his office. “why are we in here?”
he walked towards his desk and grabbed a picture that was stood on it and held it out to you. it was a picture taken on your graduation. you looked up at him confused
“i had your school send a copy to me. i always asked for updates on how you were doing at school. i have every school report in my draw. i always cared about you. i was just terrible at showing it. and i always thought it was too late to try and be your father so i avoided you. which was wrong. but seeing you today reminded me that i don’t want to have regrets in life. i don’t want to be an old man on my death bed and wondering where my own daughter is. i know i cant expect you to just accepted me as your father. but i would really like you to come over for dinner one day. and meet grace and charles properly?” he asked.
“i don’t know. i don’t feel like they would want me here” you shook your head. with tears still rolling down your face.
“trust me, they do. grace has wanted to meet you for years. she was the one who encouraged me to invite you to the wedding. she really wanted family here. and you are family y/n. i know you feel wronged by all of us, and i understand why. but i want to make it better. please, give me a chance” he pleaded.
“okay.”
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hacked-wtsdz · 26 days
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Forever obsessed with characters who can’t go back. Characters who want to return to their place in the carton cutouts of life but the shape just won’t fit anymore. Characters who dreamt so hard of getting back home to find out that wherever they are isn’t home anymore. Characters back from the dead or the border with death for whom life suddenly takes a new shape. What will you do with it now, now that it’s so different from what you knew it to be? How do you sit amongst people for whom it’s the old shape and size and smell and taste? Characters who believe that they should be dead but don’t want to die and yet thread a bit too close to the edge. Characters who are dead and walking this life. Forever obsessed.
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sparksetfire · 6 months
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Arthur being my favourite Shelby brother - underrated (?) moments
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rysko · 3 months
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More Peaky textposts cause they're too damn fun
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call-sign-shark · 11 months
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Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist
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Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)
Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE
Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.
But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.
She is Arthur’s Angel, but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.
And by extend, you are too.
Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.
TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)
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ACT I.
♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes
♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared
♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞
♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour
♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes
♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned
♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞
♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams
ACT II.
♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll
♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞
♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn
♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did
♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die
♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞
♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World
♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge ( c o m i n g . . .)
♢ Ch. 17 || ( Il Diàvulu Biancu)
♢ Ch. 18 ||
ACT III.
♢ Ch. 18 ||
♢ Ch. 19 ||
♢ Ch. 20 ||
♢ Ch. 21 ||
♢ Ch. 22 ||
♢ Ch. 23 ||
♢ Ch. 24 ||
♢ Ch. 25 ||
♢ The series can be longer.
Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.
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Related works - in chronological order-
♢ From Blood We Will Grow
♢ To Bark and Bite
♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)
♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)
♢ Perfect Lines
♢ Savage Daughter
♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)
♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)
♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)
♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)
Moodboards and other content
♢ Playlist
♢ Moodboard Aesthetic
♢ Moodboard Chapter 6
♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer
♢ Moodboard Chapter 12
♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer
Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.
Taglist: @adaydreamaway08 @theshelbyclan @jomarch-wannabe @esposadomd @zablife @woofgocows @anathemasworld @anastasia000 @kate654 @kxnnxy @babayaga67 @meowtastick @shelbyssins @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @bluevenus19 @raincoffeeandfandoms @kishie8 @zablife @alexandra-001 @dearshelby @alexizodd @helen06dreamer @kmc1989 @emotionalcadaver @peakyswritings @peakyltd @chaosinkest1996 @vanhelsingsbigtoe @cherubswhispers @he6rtshaker @bemyqueenofdarkness @cljordan-imperium @cjarbo @red-riding-wood @rysko
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