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notyour-valentine · 1 year

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Welcome to Downton, Mr Shelby 14 ~ Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC (Series)

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Summary: No Tommy but Charlotte and Lizzie - Chazzie...Lilotte?

If interested, you can check out this post for more about Charlotte

All my writing is produced by an adult and created with an adult audience in mind (18/21+). You are responsible for your own media consumption.I do not consent to my work being translated, copied or posted elsewhere on this platform or any other.

Wordcount: 5140 words

Part 14

Charlotte felt like her head could explode any minute now. It was like a kettle ready to hiss and whistle just with nowhere for the air to escape, so it would shake and tremble more and more until the material would simply give in.

And her seams were ripping, as of course, this was the topic of conversation at dinner. How could it not be?

“Only a few years ago, this would have been unthinkable.”, her father said, his voice strained with suppressed outrage. Her father was not one to shout, and would not do in this instance. He maybe just wouldn't be too hard on someone that this matter brought to shouting, so deeply ran his resentment and shock.

“A field marshall assassinated at the Derby, in the presence of their Majesties!”

His voice almost cracked on the final word.

Yes, she thought. The King had been there too, and the Queen. She had almost forgotten. Then again, most of the day seemed like a blur to her now, a wash of white and brown and grey, in contrast to the inescapable.

“I’ve heard it was the Irish.”, Mary said over some wonderful creation of carrot mousse and seabass that tasted like nothing but cardboard to her and her alone, as she forced herself to choke down bite by bite. It was little enough, but the last thing she wanted was their attention on her.

If they look, they'll know. “How could it not be the Irish?", Edith argued. "After all he did to those poor people in Cork!”.

She said it as if it was something everyone would know, which naturally ticked Mary off.

For once, she didn't mind their squabble. Fight, she thought, fight so no one remembers I'm here.

She was too old to crawl in her mother's bed and disappear in her arms, to hide between her parents and let their warmth and love melt away her night terrors.

She was too old for that, and her terrors were worse and more shocking than any nightmare of hers had ever been. And since she could no longer melt into their embrace, she just wanted to disappear, to simply vanish until the world made sense again. “Whatever are you talking about?”, Mary snapped, almost rolling her eyes at Edith, who smirked in triumph.

“Don’t you ever read the newspapers?”, she asked. "Even you might learn something."

"Girls-", their mother warned under her breath. “It seems Branson has rubbed off on you.", Mary said, fighting Edith's smugness with performative disinterest.

Yet it was Charlotte who was cut by her words as the mention of his name only hammered down Sybil’s absence.

She could not run to her mother, could not confide in Mary, not in anyone - even Sybil was a stretch, but there was still a chance.

If anyone, then Sybil. But she wasn't here. She was across the sea, safe and untouched by all of this.

“It has nothing to do with him.”, Edith argued, not wanting to let this go “I don’t condone the attack, obviously, but we shouldn’t pretend like he was a saint either, now just because he is dead." “Edith,”, their father said sternly, “Russell has served this country during many wars, including the Boer War, might I remind you, with distinction."

Sir Richard scoffed.

“I hear he has a reputation for vulgarity.”

Robert shot him down with a glare. “He was a soldier in service to his king and this country and deserves every ounce of respect. And for him to be butchered by Irish terrorists is not only a tragedy but also a scandal for our nation."

The knife slipped from her grasp and clattered onto her plate, before sliding off and disappearing under the table.

“Apologies.”, she mumbled quickly, rushing to bend down to hide her face.

It was a small mercy and all she got, a split second to breathe and compose herself, to pretend the storm inside her wasn't raging.

“I think it’s far time to change the topic of conversation!”, her mother said at once.

Robert cleared his throat and looked over at her. “You’re right. This is no topic for the ladies.”, he said, his blue eyes softening with care and affection.

She quickly looked away. “It’s fine.”, she said, trying her best to sound convincing, at which she failed miserably.

“I know it’s ghoulish, but I am so relieved you left early.”, her mother said softly, shaking her head.

“Yes,”, Robert agreed, “How is Miss Stark?”

Cora had informed him that an acquaintance of Charlotte's had gotten ill from a heatstroke and that she had taken her home. He had been displeased at her absence, but the chivalrous compassion had eased his disapproval. Then of course, Russell's body had been discovered and the world turned on its head.

Charlotte swallowed hard and glanced at her mother.

Her eyes were wide alert, as if she was ready to jump in if she should fail, but still gave her the room to try.

“She is quite exhausted, so I presume she is asleep."

Not that she was in any state for dinner, despite it obviously being offered. Instead, Mrs Hughes had taken her a tray.

"She said she wanted to catch a train tomorrow after breakfast. I’d like to take a car to accompany her to the station.”

“Of course.”, Cora quickly said.

In the light of the ban on today’s incidents, the remaining conversation was rather limited, and the fact that she was permitted to remain in silence instead of being roped into the discussion was both blessing and curse.

But the quiet only made it worse, for that way all of Miss Stark’s words echoed louder and louder in her head.

Cora soon began to talk about the hospital garden fair, which only reminded her of the fact that her own hospital work, which had been lined up and planned meticulously. She hadn't wanted to put a foot wrong.

When dinner was over and they moved to the drawing room, Charlotte counted the minutes until she could excuse herself.

More than ever before, did she miss Sybil. If she could tell a soul, she could have told her…she could have and Sybil would have supported her, helped her, let her be angry or soothed her tears.

She didn't know whether she wanted to scream or cry, but right now she was allowed nothing. Just - terror. Thankfully most of them chalked her behaviour down to today’s events, and she was soon sent off to bed to get some rest. As if any sleep would come to her ever again.

That’s not even a lie, Charlotte thought bitterly, her hand trembling on the banister as she crept up, feeling more like a ghost than a person.

How much a world could change from noon to night.

Despite the hurricane of her thoughts, her feet proved reliable allies, carrying her to her bedroom.

It felt foreign to her now, from the pale mint green colour of the curtains, to the pillows chosen to match. The way the mattress dented when she sat down, the feeling of the sheets, the way the street lamps flickered in the distance - all of it was foreign. But was it the world that was foreign now, or her?

She could hear the sounds of her breath, her chest rising and falling with shallow, faint huffs as her hands trembled.

If only she was brave enough to scream.

But she wasn't, and so silence was her only option, silence and confused agony, like a hunted animal that didn't know where the arrows came from. Only she had already been struck, and was bleeding out by the minute.

She forced her eyes shut to banish her tears and the thoughts that caused them.

It wasn't even her place to be angry at herself or pity herself, or both. What did she matter in all of this? In all Miss Stark had told her?

Compared to her, what right did she have to the chest-tightening feeling of bottomless betrayal?

So there was guilt to add to all those feelings too.

When she heard the knock on the door, she flinched up as if someone had struck her.

"Anna.", she said breathlessly. "I didn't ring yet."

Anna shook her head.

"Milady, a Mr. Shelby came to the backdoor to speak to you. I thought you might prefer it not being announced by Mr. Carson so I told him to wait there."

Charlotte felt her stomach drop, and her heart with it until there was only an icy, bottomless pit inside her.

I can’t see him. I can’t speak to him. I don’t want to. I can’t.

Like a frozen flower, she would shatter in his mere presence.

But she couldn’t say that to Anna. She would have to explain herself, and she couldn’t.

She had thought keeping him there was a kindness, given all she had told her of her activities with his charity, or what he had made her believe to be that.

If she didn't comply now, Anna would have her questions why.

Worse, she might ask Mary, and her sister would stop at nothing -

Charlotte cleared her throat and looked down, smoothing down the fabric of her dress.

She had no choice.

Unless she wanted to say the unspeakable and explain the inexplicable, she had to go down.

"Stay with me?", she asked, her voice trembling just slightly, betraying her to someone who knew her for nearly all her life.

"Of course, Milady.", she said, offering her a small smile, but it didn't reach Anna's eyes. For that, she could read her too well.

So she quickly moved ahead, unable to stand the piercing gaze.

But every step felt like she was dragging the weight of the world with her.

Still, despite everything, she was a Crawley. She had to be brave. There was no other option.

The servant's staircase spared her the knowing and judging gaze of her ancestors on the walls, but instead she saw a few curious glances of the servants as Anna led her out.

Of course Anna had thought of bringing along one of her scarves.

She wore it like a coat of armour, because it was the only protection she could have.

Taking a deep breath, like poor Jane Grey stepping out onto the Tower Green, she opened the door to the back entrance.

She smelled the smoke before she saw the glimmer of the cigarette, and then the man flicking it away.

His tie needle reflected in the light of the lantern, then the blonde of his hair. “John.”

His name slipped from her lips like a cry of shock.

She had feared, but expected Tommy, and now on consideration perhaps even Arthur, but not John. Never John. He was the last one she had thought to come and seek her out.

But here he was, looking up at her with wide blue eyes.

“You live here?”, he asked surprised, his eyes wide with awe as he looked up the facade, the stucco, the countless windows.

“When in London, yes.”, Charlotte said, as she approached him slowly.

Arthur’s Arthur. He can’t help it, really. But John- John has a good heart.

He held his hat in his hands and shifted uncomfortably from one step to the other.

The hat, she remembered.

“Ahm, where is Lizzie?”, he asked, the way she imagined a schoolboy would inquire after his friend.

“Upstairs.”, Charlotte said. The mention of her sent a surge of defiance through her, like a second coat of iron out of the necessity of protecting the woman, but that also protected her in turn.

"She’s sleeping.”

“D-doesn’t she want to go home?”, he asked, glancing up as if he could look through the walls and windows into the guest bedroom.

“Not tonight.”

John nodded, taking a deep breath, his mouth contorting. “How is she?”, he wanted to know, barely glancing up at her. He couldn't meet her gaze fully, but he couldn't look away either. For that, he cared too much.

And Miss Stark cared about him too. She had told her as much, about John, and his children and the wedding. About how he still tried his best to care for her after. About how he was good, one of the good ones, Charlotte. One of the boys they sent. A boy, not a man. Not like Arthur and Tommy. Once she had feared the sharpness of his eyes, the cruelty in his words, the way he made her feel small and stupid and useless, but now Miss Stark’s assessment, as little as it was, was all she had to hold onto.

She cared about him, and he cared about her. So Charlotte chose to answer. “I don’t know. Hurt. Tired. Angry."

She sighed once more, leaning against the doorframe.

"She didn’t want to see a doctor.”

Perhaps he could make her see sense.

“Course not.”, he mumbled to himself.

Then his blue eyes met his. “Thanks, Charlotte. I know you and Lizzie…”

As he spoke, he turned his cap in his hands and when the light hit it right, she saw the light glimmer in the reflection.

Oh, she thought. Oh no.

She had forgotten all about that part, the fact getting lost in the tirade of terror, but it came rushing back, turning her stomach and making bile rise in her throat.

“That doesn’t matter now.”, she said quickly. “Anyone would have done the same.”

“They wouldn’t.”, he argued. “And I’m sorry for…you know.”

Charlotte nodded once more. “It’s fine.”

For a moment silence hung between them. “Tommy’s outside. He’s also worried about Lizzie.”

“I see.”, Charlotte said, the pain that was already pounding in her chest, getting even worse, so bad she felt her entire insides were ignited with agony. “I doubt Miss Stark will want to see him anytime soon.”

“And what about you?” I never want to see him again. I never want to talk to him again. I never ever want to think about him again! Granny was right. This was a terrible, terrible mistake.

If she could wipe him from her memory, she would in a heartbeat.

“I can’t go out now.”, she said, blinking away her tears. “It’s late and very cold.”

John saw right through her excuse.

“Has she…”, he began slowly, “has she said…”

“She told me enough, John.”, Charlotte said firmly, building herself up to her full height, “Miss Stark told me quite enough."

There was no sleep for her that night, and she guessed probably not for many nights to come. Her thoughts were too loud, the pictures Miss Stark painted too vivid and horrid and horrific to allow her much rest.

When Anna came with the morning tea, Charlotte was already up, with a scarf around her shoulders instead of her robe. She had left that with Miss Stark.

What a foolish, useless little thing in light of what had happened, what had happened to her.

"Has Miss Stark been woken yet?", She asked, avoiding Anna’s look. She felt the blonde woman would read her at any glance, would need only one look and see the truth of it all.

She probably knew about the real cause of Miss Stark’s distress already. That was why Mrs Hughes and her mother asked Anna for help. She was kind and discreet, and a soul they all could trust.

"About now, I think.", Anna said. “I’ve sent Lily up with a tray.”

"I think I will go and see her before getting ready for breakfast."

It was an improper thing to do, and so Anna helped her into a day-dress as quickly as she could, even skipping the stockings. She would only be going down the hall after all.

“There, Milady. Good enough I’d say.”, she said with her cheerful tone, as she smoothed down her hair just barely.

With that, she stilled her hands, her eyes finding hers in the reflection of the mirror.

“The last day has been quite distressing for you hasn’t it?”

It wasn’t a question as much as a medical diagnosis.

She had known her since she was a little girl and knew things about her that Mary and Edith missed. She had been taking care of her too long for her to miss things like these, even if she managed to conceal them from her sisters.

“Well, denial would be futile, so…”

She broke off and shook her head.

“I’ll just be glad to be home.”

That wasn’t even half a lie. She wanted to go home, to be back in Downton, to breathe Yorkshire air and be surrounded by her home as far as the eye could see.

“If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”, she said, the words heavier than the normal empty courtesy.

"Thank you, Anna.”

But there are things I couldn't even tell you if I wanted to.

Leaving Anna to tidy, she left her room and walked the short distance to where Miss Stark had been put up in. She found her resting against the pillows, staring at the tea tray over her lap as if it was a wild animal ready to bite her nose off.

Charlotte made a point of not looking at the swelling of her lip.

Lily was with her, standing by the window.

"Good morning, Milady!", She greeted, dropping into a small curtsy.

"I was just asking Miss Stark what to do about clothes for today since she doesn't have any luggage."

No, Charlotte thought, there was no luggage, and the clothes she had worn, well, they had been reduced to tatters on the bathroom floor. Anna had helped her cover that up.

"She can have a pick of anything I brought.", she offered. “Try to pick out a few options of anything long.”

Miss Stark was a good deal taller than she was.

With that, Lily left with a gentle "Yes, Milady."

The door closed behind her, leaving Charlotte and the other woman alone.

The silence made her thoughts and the abstract fear they caused ring louder, echoing in her ears.

"Is this…normal?", Miss Stark asked, waving at the tray of tea, biscuits and orange slices.

"Well,", she said softly, sitting down on the chaise lounge. "Mine didn’t have orange slices."

Miss Stark huffed, and Charlotte couldn’t tell if it was a sign of success or failure at her attempt of lightening the situation.

When her fingers touched the porcellian, they trembled.

"How's the tea?", she asked, playing with the edge of her scarf.

"It's good.", Miss Stark mumbled, staring into it as if she hoped to see the future in the china.

"Did you sleep?"

She shook her head, which was understandable.

"Did you?"

Her response was the same.

What can I say?, She wondered, her chest tightening. What even is there to say?

The knock on the door surprised them both, especially when Charlotte saw who it revealed.

"Good morning, Mama!", She said, getting up from the bed and kissing her cheek.

Her mother looked to have had the same thoughts she had, to see Miss Stark as soon as she woke up. She wore a pale blue tea gown, the old kind with the wide cuts, flowing fabric and big pockets that was from before the war. It was far from the latest fashion but she had a preference for robes like these.

"Apologies, Miss Stark.", She said, "I heard you'd planned to take the early train and I couldn't let you go in good conscience without at least checking up on you."

Miss Stark was staring up at her with wide eyes, like a deer in headlights.

"Ahm- good morning.", She mumbled, before trying to remove the tea tray in order to get up in a rush.

“Oh no need for that!”, her mother said swiftly. “We’re the one invading your bedroom this morning, aren’t we?”, she said, taking Charlotte’s arm.

"I'm sorry for being a bother, Milady.”, Miss Stark told the teacup.

A sense of sadness washed over her mother’s face.

"Oh please, you could never be a bother, Miss Stark. You have all of us quite a scare. Are you sure you wouldn't prefer to see a doctor? We can arrange it, easily. Quietly. We’d take care of it all, and there would be no risk to your reputation.”

"No Doctor, please.", Miss Stark said sharply.

Her mother, Lady Grantham, sighed.

"Alright, but I'll send up Anna to see to your cuts again, yes? The same ointment Mrs Hughes gave you yesterday.”

To that, she agreed.

"Good.”, her mother said, breathing a sigh of relief. "Now what do we do about clothes?"

"Oh, Miss Stark- will borrow some of my things."

Her mother looked at her as if she had suggested something ludicrous. “Nonsense, darling. Miss Stark won't fit into your clothes. I'll have the maids take some of Mary's things."

"Mary will hate that!", Charlotte said. And she would demand to know why -

She already had far too much going on to dare getting Mary upset at her now.

"I'll handle Mary.", Her mother assured her, "Don't you worry one bit, Miss Stark. After breakfast, we'll have the car ready to take you to the station, whenever you need, whether that is this morning, today or tomorrow."

"Thank you, Milady.", Miss Stark said. "For everything."

"No need.", She assured her, before cupping Charlotte's cheek.

"I'm very proud of you, darling.”

In that moment, for a split second, the world was alright again, but as soon as her mother left, she felt herself falling into that icy pit again.

They wouldn’t be proud if they knew what she knew now. They’d be so enraged and appalled, shocked and horrified - just as she was now. And she felt so very stupid.

"Your mother's lovely.", Miss Stark said softly, once the door was closed again.

"Yes.", Charlotte admitted breathlessly. Lovely and completely in the dark of the foolishness of her youngest daughter.

Miss Stark shook her head, biting her lip as she did.

"Fuck.", She groaned, as she dropped her head into her hands. "Fucking hell, Charlotte!"

The swearing made her jump. But could she blame Miss Stark for her choice of words?

"What's wrong?", She wanted to know, rushing towards her. "What did I do? What did Mama do?"

"Nothing!", she snapped. "That's the whole fucking point."

She ran a hand through her hair.

"You're…you're not like us - fuck - I never should have said a thing.”

“No,”

Now it was her voice to add sharpness.

“It was far time I knew.”

All this pain, confusion and betrayal she felt was infinitely better than the puppet on a string she had been before, oblivious and foolish, pouring her heart, soul and energy into his castle of clouds that he conjured up only to lure her in.

It all seemed so obvious now, of course. So blatantly, tragically obvious. And the worst part was, others had seen it while she had deluded herself, and would have continued to do so if Miss Stark hadn’t told her.

Home did not bring the relief she had hoped for. Maybe, it even made it worse, as she had never missed Sybil more than now.

Sybil would listen, without laughing, without being shocked or horrified. She would listen without judging. No 'I told you so's, no 'you should have known's, no 'How could you be so foolish?'s.

But Sybil wasn't here. She was gone, off to Ireland with Branson - she could scratch his eyes out for that now more than ever!

Charlotte tried to write to her but every time she tried to put it into words she failed miserably. It never sounded right, it never captured her thoughts properly. And even putting these things in writing felt like a crime of their own.

And she burned each and every piece of paper until her room smelled of nothing but smoke.

She couldn't telephone her either. Sybil didn't have a telephone now and she couldn't dare being overheard. So she was all alone, alone with her thoughts.

She went riding before breakfast so as to avoid the conversation, and took long walks in the afternoon.

But no matter how fast or far she galloped, she couldn't outrace her thoughts. Her betters had tried and failed at that, her grandmother informed her with a sharp quip.

Sleeping was difficult as well, because sometimes she would dream.

The nightmares were bad, but the other dreams were worse, those in which it was just them together, those of work and pride, when her research bled into the realm of her dreams. In those dreams, they got along, which made her want to drown herself in her shame at her own mind’s betrayal.

Her family all thought she was upset about the field marshall, with her mother perhaps taking Miss Stark, Lizzie now as she insisted she call her, into account. And in a way they were right.

Tommy killed him.

Tommy shot him in the head with his own gun and killed him.

Tommy made Lizzie lure the man away, who hurt her and then Tommy shot him in the head with his own gun and killed him.

Because that's what Tommy does. He kills people. He hurts people. He blinds people. He uses his own brothers like soldiers.

Lizzie had told her.

That and so much more.

The man she admired, the man she had been so desperate to impress, the man who had made her feel more useful and valued than any other person in her whole life. And for what?

She hadn’t understood who the inspector was, or what that had to do with guns and the IRA and a barmaid. But she had known Mr Churchill - how relieved she had felt when hearing his name, a small sliver of familiarity in the chaos of Lizzie’s words, only for that to be turned on it’s head.

Advantage was what she had said. Insurance.

During the meals, she tried to keep to herself as much as possible and avoid conversation.

There was always something more important than her to discuss and she happily let them.

Right now, the topic of the week was the garden party for the hospital.

Now, with the war over, it has come up again.

"I doubt anyone would be comfortable after what happened last time.", her mother said.

What a different time that had been. What a different world.

"We don't need reminding."

"It gives the village an opportunity to show unity in support for the hospital, especially after the war.", Granny insisted.

"On that we agree.", Isobel said. "Speaking of hospitals- Charlotte, how are your preparations going?"

Charlotte glanced up, confused at what she was asking.

"Preparations for what?", her mother asked.

Isobel responded and in her answer, reminded her.

"Charlotte is set to meet with a few doctors for the children's hospital in Birmingham next week."

The wine in her glass trembled just slightly

That seemed a lifetime ago now. Or maybe a life that wasn't her own. One of make-believe and stupidity.

"I've been helping her prepare."

Isobel smiled at her and she tried to smile back, but the muscles in her face fought the motion.

"If I can give you one bit of advice, talk to the nurses. They know more about the day-to -day runnings of the hospital than the doctors."

"Naturally you would say that.", Granny quipped.

"When are you going?", her mother wanted to know.

Charlotte cleared her throat and glanced down at her hands. They were still trembling.

"The meeting is next Tuesday.", She said softly.

"Are you sure you should be going?”, Cora asked, a line of concern between her brows.

"I think she most certainly should.", Isobel argued. "It is her project and she is very well prepared."

"I disagree.", her father said said, "Charlotte should take some time to rest, especially after the shock."

Don't I know it, she thought bitterly.

"But some distraction might do her good.", Isobel argued.

"I agree with Robert.", Matthew said uncommonly forcefully, "besides, there are a great many causes and distractions closer to Downton. I've heard there is an organisation in Ripon that specialises in helping children with reading difficulties."

"Goodness- how intriguing!", Mary scoffed, her eyes finding the back of her head.

"The last thing Charlotte should do is take on another cause!", Granny argued. "She’s a lady, and they’re working her like a ploughhorse."

"Although I must protest your comparison, I agree that she already has a cause and a very worthy one at that.", Isobel said.

It was Edith who spoke up next.

"I'm sorry, but Charlotte, do you even want to go?”

That made them all fall silent and Charlotte wished they would have continued to fight, but now all eyes were on her.

The worst part was, now everyone knew that it was happening on Tuesday. And they would all wait for it.

"I, ahm, I don't know yet.", She said softly. "It depends, I guess."

That was an answer that made everyone at the table unhappy, giving neither side more ammunition, or another enemy to strike at.

Come next morning, she received a call just after breakfast.

"How are you?", She asked, like she had asked in every call.

"I'll manage.", The other woman replied. "What about you?"

"I'm trying to figure out how to manage.", She said truthfully, which made her chest tighten in shame. It should be the other way around. She had only heard of the bad things, Lizzie had been forced to live them.

"Look- about what I told you…"

"I'm glad you did, Lizzie, truly.", She said quickly.

There was silence for a while.

"So you went to work again.", Charlotte stated.

I wouldn’t have. I would have reported him to the police, and everyone else too.

"Yes."

"How was it?", She asked.

"He's walking on eggshells."

As he should.

Well, he should be in prison awaiting a trail at the King’s Court, not walking on eggshells, but that was the least he could do.

What he had done to her was cruel and so terribly heartless and Charlotte found it entirely unforgivable, but it wasn’t hers to forgive. It was Lizzie’s and so she kept her mouth shut in regards to the outrage she felt.

"Are you coming back?", Lizzie wanted to know after the screaming silence.

Charlotte sighed and rubbed her temple.

"I don't know, Lizzie.", She said truthfully. "I don't know anything anymore."

When she went out with the horse, she rode until she felt her lungs would burst, but neither the horse, nor the grass, trees or the wind could tell her an answer.

If Sybil was here, she could choose for me.

But she wasn’t and so Charlotte was all alone with her horses and the storm in her mind.

Thank you for reading - I'd love to hear your thoughts

Taglist

Overall

@lilyrachelcassidy @jyessaminereads @chlorrox @watercolorskyy @books-livre @quarterpastmidnight @lilyevanswhore @polishcrazyone @zablife @just-a-harmless-patato @stevie75 @flyingjosephine-blog @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @babayaga67 @butterfly-skinnylegend @shelbydelrey @mrkdvidal1989 @raincoffeeandfandoms @midnightmagpiemama @adaydreamaway08 @kmc1989 @trixie23

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore

#welcome to downton mr shelby #charlotte crawley #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #downton abbey #peaky blinders crossover #peaky blinders downton abbey crossover #wtdms

98 notes · View notes

byeletty · 7 months

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something about Mary Crawley and Tommy Shelby in a room together is giving me Ideas 🫠

#michelle dockery #cillian murphy #mary crawley #tommy shelby #downton abbey #peaky blinders #I JUST THINK A CROSSOVER WOULD BE SEXY

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maidmerrymint · 2 years

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Really good Downton Abbey x Peaky Blinders crossover. TommyxRose

#wattpad #tommy shelby fanfiction #crossover #downton abbey #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #rose macclare #fanfiction recommendation

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palmviolet · 11 months

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fic writer tag game

thanks for the tag @mirkwood-hr-department !

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

~900k (scary)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

stranger things, peaky blinders, tolkien, succession, among others...

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

- sub-culture

- the lathe

- better by you, better than me

- disaster/lucky

- misgiven

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

i do! i'm not so great at it with oneshots but with multichapters my practice is to reply to all the previous chapter's comments right before i post the next one. it keeps me disciplined about it, since i think it's important to engage with and thank my readers.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

probably the year of what now... i was going for hopeful melancholy but let's be honest. i cried writing it

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

i mean i don't really do unqualified happy endings lmao there's always something bittersweet or complicated about it. maybe love is a battle i can win? since i finished writing it on christmas eve and something about the festive spirit must have suffused my attitude.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

thankfully not, or if i have it wasn't consequential enough to recall it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

not really, no. i'm more of a fade-to-black kind of gal. i have the utmost respect for those who do write it, since i find it difficult and ultimately would rather focus my energy on other parts of my writing.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

not really, no. they can be fun but it's difficult to find a scenario that feels plausible (as someone obsessed with that sort of thing lmao). i do have a hankering to somehow connect downton abbey and peaky blinders together, since they occur in exactly the same period from very different societal perspectives. i have no idea how, however. the casual viewer's choice would be putting mary and tommy together, but mary's far too much of a snob, and sybil too much of an idealist. thomas, maybe? hmm now i'm thinking about it maybe i'll do it and write something gen.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge. i have had edits stolen and put on tiktok, though, which was enraging.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

i have! no forest, no trees was translated into russian, and the first few chapters of the lathe have been translated into german.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

i have not. i don't think i'm a collaborative enough person for that lmao

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

i'm not sure i have one! definitely have some i prefer to write but i like them all for different reasons, and i also err on the side of character work rather than straightforward fandom-style shipping.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

there's a elrond & thranduil wip sitting in my google docs waiting for its final few sections. i keep going back to it and rereading it and then never adding anything else, though it really does need those extra sections to be fit for uploading. there's also private eyes, which i did enjoy writing, but i think my style and interests have evolved somewhat beyond it now. i'm also somewhat working on a thoroughbred racing tommyalfie au set in the 1970s, but i fear my own lack of knowledge about the industry will prevent me ever being quite happy enough with it to post.

16. What are your writing strengths?

dialogue. i love me some dialogue. i also love doing research and i think i'm good at utilising that research in a thematically effective way.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i make things way longer than they need to be lol. i'm also trying to get away from over-explaining in an internal monologue and instead trying to trust the reader and the writing to speak for itself.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i can't say i've ever really had an opinion on this. i probably wouldn't use another language for pivotal dialogue, even if it's footnoted, since it can take a non-speaking reader out of the flow of the scene, but overall i don't really mind and sometimes it can be effective.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

probably something like marvel or once upon a time back on ff.net. those were most certainly NOT the days.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

hmmm definite recency bias coming in here but it's got to be either the lathe or better by you, better than me. honourable mention (only because it's so much shorter) to vagues.

zero pressure tags to @beetlesandstarss @television-bodies @greatunironic @divinekangaroo

#tag games #writing #my fic

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rose-edith · 2 years

Note

Could you please write more of the Downton Abbey crossover with Peaky Blinders? Maybe the episode where they go to Scotland?

Hi! I absolutely am thinking about continuing this series, so please do keep an eye out!

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specialagentlokitty · 1 year

Note

Hello, cherié,

could I, if possible, RQ a Downton Abbey / Peaky Blinder Crossover?

Where MR, who's hard of hearing, is the little brother of Tommy Shelby and works in DA

and Thomas and he are like best buddies (and maybe hinted love)

only if possible though,

-🌻

I’m sorry but I’ve never watched pesky blinders so unfortunately I cannot write this

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dodgermd · 3 years

Text

Okay. Hear me out! Hear. Me. Out. A Downton Abbey - Peaky Blinders crossover!

#peaky blinders #downton abbey #crossover #they are set in about the same time #i mean

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padfootdaredmetoo · 3 years

Note

So because I’m watching Downton Abbey, what about…

a crossover of Peaky Blinders and Downton Abbey? 👀

Tagging Lily in this too @retromafia

OOOOOOOOH DO IT!!!!!!!

I never actually watched the show but I always wanted to! Maybe that's what I'll do once on break!

#Peaky blinders #downton abbey #Peaky blinders x downton abbey crossover

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jiejie-eonni-onee-sama · 4 years

Text

Crossover n°34: Jay Gatsby (The Great Gatsby), Thomas Shelby (Peaky Blinders), Sibyl Crawley (Downton Abbey) & Peggy Carter (Agent Carter)

Imagine those four characters meeting during a party at Gatsby’s mansion.

Gatsby: Greetings, ladies and gentleman! I hope you enjoy the party!

Shelby: Yes, thank you. You know how to greet your guests.

Sibyl: I’m always ready for a nice party, Mister Gatsby!

Peggy: Well, I came because... A little party never killed nobody!

#crossovers #the great gatsby #peaky blinders #downton abbey #agent carter #jay gatsby #thomas shelby #sibyl crawley #peggy carter #leonardo dicaprio #cilian murphy #jessica brown findlay #hayley atwell

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mysuunandstars · 4 years

Video

youtube

mary + tommy | saturn

#mary crawley #lady mary #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #peaky blinders #downton abbey #cillian murphy #michelle dockery #crossover #myedit

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notyour-valentine · 1 year

Text

Welcome to Downton, Mr Shelby 13 ~ Tommy Shelby x Crawley!OC (Series)

[Masterlist] [Taglist] [Series Masterlist]

Summary: Derby Day - what could go wrong?

If interested, you can check out this post for more about Charlotte

Wordcount: 5400 words

Part 13

“What does love feel like?”, she asked Sybil, sitting down on the edge of her bed. “Why are you asking?”

Charlotte glanced down at her lap before answering, seeing her hands fidget on their own accord.

“I want to know.”

“Why are you asking me?”, Sybil wanted to know, as she sat down next to her.

“Because you love Tom Branson.”

It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement of fact. And perhaps, after days of hearing how it was just a fancy, that she didn’t - couldn’t - really love him, seeing Charlotte accept her feelings was what made her answer.

“It’s strange, really.”, Sybil said. “You think about them even when you’re not thinking. You hear their voice in your head as if they were sitting right beside you. You knew what they would say or think or how they would react to something that is happening around you, but these thoughts come on their own.”

Her voice was so soft and dreamy as she spoke, almost as if she wanted to lull Charlotte to sleep.

“It’s not a conscious choice to be reminded of them, but everything somehow does, as if they were the sun and the world had begun to revolve around them.”

So Tom Branson is the sun?

“It sounds rather invasive.”, Charlotte mumbled. “But it’s not- at least it doesn’t feel that way.”, Sybil argued at once. “It’s comforting really, because sometimes the person you love feels like the only person who knows you.”

Hearing that hurt, after all Charlotte knew Sybil as much as anyone could, and Mary and Edith have known her since the day of her birth, as had Mama and Papa.

Surely Branson, no matter how Sybil liked or even loved him, couldn’t know her better than they did.

“They also inspire you to be the best version of yourself - the true version of yourself. The you without limitations, and maybe the you were trying to hide.”

Charlotte doubted Sir Richard was bringing out the ‘her’ Mary was trying to hide, nor exactly the best version of her. She was just Mary- the way she had been with the Duke and she hadn’t loved him.

Not that she was the best judge of love. Or any judge on anything remotely romantic unless it was taking place between the softly bound covers of a romance novel.

Then again, in these novels, especially the dangerously raunchy ones, weeks of pining, fo sleepless nights, fluttering stomachs and shaking hands all culminated in the purest and most devastating expression of love that was a kiss.

Or was supposed to be. It wasn’t like she had the experience to warrant a literary exploration of the subject on her own, but the last time she had shared a kiss with someone, she had felt so much, she thought she would combust - the thrill of the forbidden, the fear of being caught, the disbelief in the fact that someone actually wanted to kiss her, and that she wanted to kiss someone too.. And that were her thoughts alone, not the butterflies in her belly, not the softness of his lips and the smile they formed after, not the way his hand searched for the side of her face, as always as gentle as a butterfly’s wing, fleeting traces at first, and then the warmth of his palm that lingered after he had pulled away.

She hadn’t been sure that that was love, but it had taught her heartbreak.

This time there were no butterflies, no fear, no excitement, not even the knowledge she was doing something forbidden. It was beyond inappropriate, being seen kissing in broad daylight, and then a man she was neither engaged nor married to.

Instead, all her mind could summon was “Oh-”

A realisation of what he was doing, followed by the rather important question of “why?”.

Her own absence of emotion surprised her, especially since it seemed to be such a significant thing to him. She yet remembered how he leaned his forehead against hers, how his breath had shuddered, and his hands trembled.

For a moment he had held her such, his hands cradling the side of her face, before he had stroked his thumb over her cheekbones.

“I have to go now.”, he had told her, his voice thick with an emotion she couldn’t place, let alone hope to return. With another short kiss to her brow he had disappeared, something that filled her with immense gratitude since she had not the faintest idea of how to react to that.

In the days that passed between then and now, she had given the question of why people kiss great thought. Beyond her own experience, she had seen it in only a few examples. Of course, her Mama and her Papa kissed, but she mostly only saw it on greeting or departing, or in moments they stole when they thought no one was watching. On the lips that was, her father was quite fond of kissing her hand too. She had seen Sybil kiss Branson, but that wasn’t exactly an appropriate example, although there was a little Lady Marion and Robin Hood to it all. If Robin Hood’s friends set fire to Nottingham Castle and gave the money to the Irish.

Once when she had been little she had seen a maid kiss a footman, both long gone from their service, and once she had seen Anna and Mr Bates share an embrace from her window. Another greeting between those already certain of their feelings.

Why Tommy Shelby thought to kiss her was a mystery to him. It did make things a whole lot more complicated and left a bitter taste in her mouth, and it was especially harsh since she lacked Sybil’s advice. She was so far away.

And it wasn’t like she could ask her other sisters. Edith did not have a lucky hand in love, and Mary, well, whatever in love was, it certainly wasn’t a term to describe her and Sir Richard.

Although they both made a valiant effort, him especially, but she knew her sister well enough to know it was icy between them, even in the suffocating heat. Beside her, Edith groaned.

“I didn’t remember it being this hot.”, she complained, flapping air towards herself with her fan.

“I wouldn’t know.”, Charlotte said. This was her very first race season. Before the war, she had been too young and during the war, they hadn’t gone.

But since the season had resumed, so had the race attendance.

Edith was right, it was impossibly hot, and even in an all white dress, with a white hat and white shawl to cover her bare shoulders, she had to fight the heat with her fan - also white to match the rest. It was a colour scheme that was carried throughout their part of their enclosure. It was separate from the grand-stands, and only for guests with name or title.

There was so much to see - the race course, naturally, but also the many, many people who had come to watch and cheer, the betting stands and bars below. Not that they were allowed to go there. Hospitality took care of them.

“Charlotte, Edith, darlings,”, Mama said, gesturing them closer, “stay a little in the shade, will you? I don’t want you getting a headache.”

“Of course.”, she agreed.

Although that might save her from the planned meal at Sir Richard’s later. She had to be polite and kind for Mary’s sake, but that didn’t mean she had to like him.

Right now, he was bragging to Mary about all the bets he had laid on the horses. Charlotte didn’t know much about racehorses, how could she?

But she was looking forward to seeing them - so tall and proud and strong.

Only until the race started, there were a lot of greetings that had to be exchanged, a near endless list of people to be introduced to and an infinite number of courtesies to be exchanged.

The heat didn’t exactly help make that more durable. Everyone said the same things. Unfortunately for her, she was still a topic of interest, as a debutante and a fresh face, with Edith, who kept her company, sadly being unable to take much of it away from her.

“I just need a minute.”, she whispered softly, after one particularily keen Viscount had taken his leave.

“Do you want me to come with you?”, Edith asked, but she shook her head and took her absence with a squeeze of her hand.

She walked all the way to the edge of the balcony, to where the waiters were loading champagne glasses on a tray.

One drink will probably kill me in this weather, she thought, and instead opted to look down at the ring below.

People there looked to be far more excited, far more at ease than them up here.

There were so many of them - hundreds upon hundreds. Charlotte tried to think if she had ever been to an event with this many people crowded into one place. Each and every figure she saw had their own mind, their own name and family and fate, their own reasons for being here today and their own loved ones they could come home to.

It was rather overwhelming - so many, so very many and just one her.

But then she spotted something, a man, in a long dark coat, too far away for her to make out his face, but she didn’t have to. Why should she, if she noticed the walk?

Charlotte couldn’t help the wide smile that came to her lips at once.

Tommy.

He was headed in the direction of their hospitality, or close rather, and with every step he took, her heart began to beat faster. Then the memory of their last interaction came back and made her smile drop, taking with it the excitement of possibly introducing the man whose foundation she helped build to her family to finally get their approval for her work. It would be wise not to mention the kiss - and if she told Tommy that, he too may forget it ever happened and they would all be able to go on as they had, working together on a real project.

This was just the plan! Besides, she could introduce him to the other guests too. That wouldn’t hurt his business.

Glancing over her shoulder, she rushed towards the exit of the hospitality and began to rush down the stairs.

She passed four sets of security officers, who all gave her funny looks, but didn’t stop her. They weren’t allowed to talk to her after all.

Once she was down, she had to weave her way past a few race goers to reach him.

He didn’t seem to care for any of the surroundings, keeping his gaze firmly fixed on something ahead of him.

“Tommy!", She called once she came into earshot. “Tommy!”

His head piqued up, but there was no smile on his lips, no light in his eye- nothing.

Instead he just stared at her as if he didn’t recognise her.

"How wonderful to see you!”, she said, offering him a wide smile, in spite of the pit in her stomach. Perhaps she had miscalculated drastically. Then again, what reason would he have to wish to avoid her when he had been the initiator during their last encounter?

"You're here?", He asked breathlessly.

"Of course I am.", She said. "We all came, it’s the first race of the season and Papa said we could go.”

As she spoke, she looked up at the balcony of the enclosure.

"I could introduce you if you like.", she offered.

"Introduce me?", He asked as if he didn't understand a word she was saying, as if the language was foreign to him.

"Yes, my parents would surely be most interested in meeting you.”

He shook his head, swallowing hard.

"No, no, Charlotte.", He said under his breath, his pale blue eyes glancing around as if he was searching for something.

"But why not?”, she demanded to know, trying not to sound as disappointed as she was.

"This is not a good time. I have things to do."

"Aren’t you here to enjoy the race?”

What other things were there to do at a race track?

He didn’t say. Instead, his eyes danced around impatiently.

“Tommy are you quite alright?"

He didn't respond. Instead he licked his lips, took her by the arm and pulled her up the stairs.

"That's your family? Over there?", He said breathlessly, pointing at them.

"Yes, do you want me to introduce-"

"No!", He insisted sharply. "No, that blonde one? The tall one that's your cousin, yeah?"

His tone was rougher than she was used to, coming from him. “That’s your cousin, Captain Crawley”

She was surprised to hear him using his military title. He didn’t like anything to do with the military, and Matthew hadn’t been a Captain since the war ended, and hadn’t introduced himself as such. Why would he know his rank?

“Well, yes, Matthew.”

He grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face him. His grip was uncommonly tight.

"You stay close to him, you hear me? Promise me you'll stay close to him."

His eyes were wider than usual, and although he didn't show more emotion than usual, there was something about his voice that made her skin crawl, something that made her heart skip a beat.

"Tommy, whatever's the matter?", She demanded to know.

He took a deep breath and came even closer, so close that she could smell the lingering scent of an already-smoked cigarette.

One of his hands found her cheek.

"Promise me you'll stay close to your Captain.”

“But-”

“Charlotte, I need you to promise me.”, he snarled. “I’ll try to find you after the race and if not, I’ll call you tonight.”

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Good. Now go, go!"

The police officers let her through without a word but with suspicious glances.

It was as if his uneasiness had washed over her, even once she was with her family once more.

"What has gotten you so pale, Poppet?", Mama asked, putting an arm on her back. “Is it the heat?”

She waved for a lemonade.

Sipping it, Charlotte’s eyes scanned the track below, trying to find something - anything - that would be amiss. He wasn’t like that for no reason. Something must have happened. Something must have him concerned. It couldn’t have been the kiss, surely?

Maybe something is wrong with his horse.

But she saw nothing, no one, and his horse was brought to the starting line.

Before the race started, she moved up next to Matthew, Tommy’s instructions ringing in her head.

He had been in quite a mood today, but didn’t seem to mind her company.

The gunshot rang through the air and the horses began to race, and yet she still couldn't look at them. Instead she looked at everything else, even as all around her the people cheered.

Then she felt commotion- it wasn't that she saw it, not at first, but she felt the shift of energy all around her as if someone had clicked a switch.

Soon after, Matthew noticed too, his head peeking up and his eyes dancing around the ring below.

Then, he suddenly stepped away from the balcony and towards the exit. Charlotte followed suit, but by the time she reached Matthew, he had already returned from speaking to the police officer.

"What is going on?", She asked him, taking his arm.

"Nothing.", He lied, and very poorly at that, guiding her back to the group. Charlotte, however, saw that only two policemen remained at the entrance of the group.

Stay close to him.

"Matthew, where have all the policemen gone?"

He swallowed hard and gave her arm a little squeeze. "Everything is fine."

It's not, she thought as her eyes darted over everything that was happening below. It's not fine.

She had no clue what was happening but she knew it had to do with Tommy. She just felt it deep down in her bones.

Absentmindedly, her fingers brushed against her dress, where Sybil’s pearl pendant lay beneath.

But the race went on, and the people, most people, even Mama and Papa, Edith and Sir Richard were watching and cheering. Only she knew she and Matthew and Mary who had caught them both looking and was now equally confused.

There was loud cheering as the race concluded, followed by celebratory drinks and the like, but Charlotte could only stand at the edge of the balcony, staring down at the ring.

She knew there was something she was missing, but even as the stands began to clear, she couldn’t say what it was.

“Charlotte?”, she heard a booming voice from below. “Oi, Charlotte, that’s you up there, eh?”

She recognised the voice at once, but it took her a while to find the person that spoke.

Only when she heard Arthur Shelby curse “Get the fuck off me!”, and saw the ring of commotion did she realise he was on the steps already.

They wouldn’t let him in, they wouldn’t let anyone in.

“Charlotte, come ‘ere love, we need your help!”, he said, gesturing at her to come down.

She glanced back at where her family was sitting and standing with drinks. “A moment’s all we need, come ‘ere”, Arthur Shelby repeated.

There was a burning in his eyes, that made her rush towards the exit.

“Ma’am, you shouldn’t leave the enclosure.”, the police officer warned. “It’s not safe out there.”

Arthur growled at the man as he took her arm.

“She’s safer with us than you!”

They were walking so swiftly, she had trouble keeping up. “What’s going on?”, she asked him breathlessly. “Is everything alright.? Has something happened with Tommy?”

“Wha- yeah, Tommy is Tommy, he’ll be fine.”, he growled. "Wherever the fuck he is."

That was not at all reassuring, especially given his use of profanities. They made her flinch each time.

He hurried her past tables and chairs with empty glasses and tipped over bottles until they reached the edge of the circut.

“What the bloody hell are you doing, Arthur?”, the familiar voice of John Shelby asked. “What is she doing here?”

“She’s the only one who can go in there.”, he said. “The only woman here we know.” “Go where?”, Charlotte asked.

John spat on the floor. “What happened?”, she demanded to know, glancing at each of them in turn.

All of this made her skin crawl, from the distress in the crowd, the swearing and the fact that John was as keen as ever to be in her company.

For a moment, both Shelby brothers stared at each other, and she knew they were having a silent deliberation.

“Fine.”, John finally spat, beckoning her closer. Only now did she realise that they were close to the facilities.

“Lizzie’s in there and she won’t come out. Just get her to come out and don’t ask stupid questions.”

He had always been dismissive and rude to her but now he had an urgency in his voice.

“Miss Stark?”, she asked.

“Please.”, John sneered, although it was clear he didn’t like saying it.

This is why Arthur took me? For the emergency that Lizzie Stark wasn’t leaving the facilities? It almost sounded like a bad joke to her, but she was here now and so she nodded and walked towards the facilities, passing the security guard standing by to ensure order.

Charlotte walked inside. By now, it was nearly deserted, her heels echoing on the wooden ground.

The first door was open, as was the second, and the third and even the fourth. The fifth, the one furthest away from the door was the only one locked.

But behind it, there was silence.

Charlotte took a deep breath and stepped closer to the stall door. “Miss Stark?”, she asked softly. “It’s me, Charlotte Crawley.”

“Go away.”, she snapped. But it wasn’t an angry voice. It was strained and tense and Charlotte swore she heard a sniffle too.

“The Shelbys are outside. They are worried about you and they sent me to fetch you.” “Fuck them!”, she spat, her voice trembling, followed by a shuddering breath.

Charlotte flinched slightly, the palm of her hand against the door.

“Miss Stark? Is everything alright?”

The stall door was opened with such force, Charlotte jumped back. “Does it look fucking alright to you?”, she screamed at her in a tone that made her flinch worse than teh swearing had done.

Charlotte’s eyes widened as she saw the cut on her brow and the blood on her cheek. The top of her dress had been ripped and she had lost her hat, leaving her hair in a tangled mess.

Her eyes were red from crying, smudging the dark makeup around them.

A hand flew to her mouth. “I’ll call the nurses!”, she insisted and had already turned, when a bruising iron grip clasped her wrist, pulling her back. “No!”, she hissed. “No fucking nurses. And no fucking Shelbys!”

More tears spilled out of the corner of her eyes, spreading the dark makeup around her eyes further, and her voice cracked as she said their name. Then, in a split second, the fury seemed to abandon her, leaving her weak and hurting almost like a lost child.

“I just want to leave. I just want to fucking leave.”, she wept, clasping her hands over her face.

When the other woman began to sob, Charlotte did the only thing she could think of and that was stepping forward and pulling her into an embrace. To her own shock, Miss Stark clung to her with a strength she had not anticipated, her whole body trembling as her hands dug into her. “I just want to leave. I just want to leave. I just want to leave.”, she repeated again and again.

“Alright.”, Charlotte said, her own voice breathless, as she tried to think of what to do. Step by step, she thought. I’ll figure it out as we go.

“We can leave.”, she offered, allowing her request.

“But they are outside. I don’t want to look at them. I don’t want to speak to them!”, she insisted.

“You won’t have to.”, Charlotte said. “You can leave with me, We’ll find a way.”

She could put her in a car home, but this was so unlike the Miss Stark she had known and she felt responsible for her. Something told her that she shouldn’t leave her alone. “I can’t go out like this.”, Miss Stark whispered as she saw her reflection in the mirror.

“Fuck!”, she whispered, cursing her own reflection.

Charlotte draped her shawl over her shoulders. It hid her ripped dress. It left her own arms bare, but oh well. At least her dress wasn’t ripped.

Then she took her handkerchief and let water run over it before wiping her cheeks like she would do with those of a child, before smoothing down her hair.

“Better?”, she asked.

Miss Stark only nodded meekly.

“I can take you with me. To London.”, Charlotte offered. “You won’t have to go home with the Shelbys. Is that alright?”

The nod was barely there, but she took it as confirmation enough. One arm was around her waist, the other holding her arm.

Once outside, they were swarmed by Arthur and John and at once, she felt the other woman tense. “Miss Stark doesn’t wish to speak to you!”, she announced without stopping in her tracks, like Mary would, and they just kept walking.

For a while she feared that they might come after her, but thankfully her tone seemed to have stunned them into silence..

Charlotte walked over to their hospitality with Miss Stark, in front of which now six police officers stood.

“Sorry no access.”, he told them.

Charlotte scowled at him. “I am an invited guest!”

They exchanged a glance. “There were orders not to let anyone in, Miss.”

Charlotte spoke with all the authority the Crawley family history granted her, with the forcefulness that would put Mary’s to shame. “I am no Miss, Sir, I am Lady Charlotte Crawley, now I politely request you let us pass right this instant!”

Her tone was less polite, granted, but it did make them step aside.

Most people had moved away from the balcony and inside to the shade and the cooler drinks. “Would you like to come or wait here?”, she asked, but before Miss Stark could answer, she heard fast footsteps. “Charlotte, there you are!”, her mother scolded. “I was so worried. You can’t just disappear like that with no one knowing where you are.!”

“Apologies, Mama!”, she said quickly. “I-

Over her shoulder, she could see her looking at Miss Stark, her eyes wide.

“Mama, this is Miss Stark. She works for Mr. Shelby- the foundation, you remember?" At that mention, Miss Stark scoffed and seemed to shrink into herself.

“What happened?”, her mother demanded to know, concern written all over her face, and a recognition Charlotte knew she lacked. What confused her about Miss Stark’s state, seemed immediately obvious to her mother. “I fell, Milady.”, Miss Stark said without looking at her, the injured side of her face turned away. “The heat.”, Charlotte said at once. “Miss Stark lives quite far from here and so I was wondering if perhaps I could take her back to the house, to rest.”

“Of course.”, her mother said at once. “But I gave the staff the day off until dinner, so you’ll be on your own. Perhaps you take her to Rosamund’s?”

“We can manage, I think.”, Charlotte said, glancing at Miss Stark. “Well then, have the chauffeur take you.”

“But who will take you to the luncheon?”, she asked.

“I won’t have you two young women in a stranger's car. “, she said sternly, “Run along now. I’ll make your apologies to Sir Richard.”

“Thank you, Mama!”, she said, as a tension she didn’t know fell from her, as she kissed her goodbye.

The car ride was entirely silent, all the way from Epsom to St. James Square, with Miss Stark trembling beside her, and her not knowing which words to say.

Usually, in the absence of causes for conversation one could always turn for the weather or flowers of the season as topics, but both seemed hollow and useless to her now.

Inside, Paul, the hallboy opened the door. It was strange to return to such a deserted house without Carson or Mrs Hughes or anyone there, but she felt that Miss Stark might prefer it this way.

“I…I..”, Charlotte stammered, before relinquishing her attempt at sounding like the presentable and put together hostess. For that, she was just too unsettled and uncertain. “Just please tell what you need.” “Can I wash somewhere?”, she asked, speaking to the tips of her shoes.

“Of course.”, Charlotte said. She took Miss Stark by her hand and helped her up the stairs and down the corridor to the bathroom she shared with Edith and Mary.

With Miss Stark was just standing there, it was left to Charlotte to draw her a bath and lay out some towels for her. “Everything is here, I think. Just use whatever you want.”

With that, she left Miss Stark alone. Only once she was alone with the silence, Charlotte felt her hands tremble.

She didn’t claim to understand everything, but she understood enough to know that something truly horrid had happened to Miss Stark today, something so awful it made her mother throw out all their day’s plans and even end the scolding of her running off. And by chance it was her taking care of the woman now.

In he mother’s parting words was a charge, a task she would now fulfill to the best of her abilities.

Miss Stark was a great deal taller than her, more Mary’s size, but she couldn’t take her sister’s clothes and so she picked out some of the clothes she had brought which she thought Miss Stark might like to wear, and placed her robe over the fire Paul had lit in her bedroom.

Then she set about trying to find anything else that might be helpful.

It wasn’t much, but it was something.

When she hadn’t heard a noise from the bathroom in over an hour, she knocked on the door. “Do you need anything, Miss Stark?”, she asked.

When she didn’t hear a response, she decided to try again. “I have a robe here, if you want to step out. It’s been warmed, I presume the water has turned cold by now.”

When once again, no response came, Charlotte decided to open the door and enter. Miss Stark had already stepped out of the bath and was sitting next to it on the floor, with towels wrapped around her body. Her hair was still dripping wet.

But she got up, when Charlotte came in and put on the robe she offered.

Her own clothes had been torn by her own hand and thrown on a pile.

“Do you…ah…have any clothes I could borrow?”, she asked.

Charlotte guided her back to her bedroom and showed her the pieces she had set out for her.

“I will let you change.”, she said softly and stepped out once more, going down to fetch what she had prepared earlier. Miss Stark looked confused when Charlotte returned with a tray.

“I brought tea and cakes. I would have cooked something, but I don’t know how and the staff has the day off.”, she admitted, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

She had also added a bowl of chocolates and some tarts from yesterday’s tea she could find.

“I hope that’s alright.”

Miss Stark stared at her with wide eyes. “I also found Mrs. Hughes medical kit. I think you might need some iodine or cream for…”

The fact that Miss Stark only stared at her made her increasingly uneasy.

“I could also have a doct-”

“No doctor!”, she insisted at once.

She nodded and raised her hands to soothe her. “Whatever you want. We have a telephone in the hall that you can use if you want to call someone.” “No one there to call.”, she whispered under her breath.

That felt like a punch to her gut.

“Miss Stark,”, she said softly, “I want to help you but I don’t know how.”

The woman’s dark eyes found her, staring right into her soul and making Charlotte feel as weak and foolish as a school girl. But for once, there was no malice in her gaze, just…sheer disbelief.

“Do you have a cigarette?”, she asked, shaking her head with resignation.

Charlotte wrung her hands. “I guess I could bring you one of Papa’s cigars.”, she offered. “They are kept in the Smoking room. He has South Americans which he is rather fond of.”

Miss Stark scoffed and shook her head.

Then she bit her lip and looked up at her.

“Why are you even helping me?”, she asked. “You hate me.”

“I don’t hate you.”, Charlotte argued, her voice softly, “we are not the best of friends, but that doesn’t mean I hate you.”

In all, she doubted she hated anyone. Except perhaps Fräulein Kelder, her old Nanny, with Sir Richard being a close second.

Lizzie Stark scoffed and shook her head, then another curse slipped her lips.

“I didn’t believe them when they said you didn’t know, but you really don’t, do you?”

Charlotte felt her chest tighten.

“Know what?”, she asked, her hands finding Sybil’s pearl.

“About Tommy.”

She said the name like a curse, as if each word was a glass shard stuck in her throat. “Who he is. What he does. What his family does.”

Charlotte swallowed hard and stared at her wide-eyed. "I don't understand- he's a businessman. He sells cars."

Miss Stark scoffed, pulling the borrowed scarf around her tighter, as the look she gave Charlotte, made a shudder crawl over her spine.

Thank you for reading - I'd love to hear your thoughts

Taglist

Overall

Tommy

@knowledgefulbutterfly @babayaga67 @signorellisantichrist @lespendy @geeksareunique @look-at-the-soul @lothbrokcore @rangerelik @elenavampire21 @evanore

#wtdms #welcome to downton mr shelby #charlotte crawley #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #downton abbey #peaky blinders crossover #peaky blinders downton abbey crossover

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bi-bard · 2 years

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Miscellaneous Masterlist

A masterlist of any show/movie/project with less than four fics and only one character written about. This includes shows like 9-1-1, The Umbrella Academy, and The Rookie.

Navigation Guide

------------------------------

9-1-1:

Evan “Buck” Buckley:

I’m Sorry… I’m a What

I Think It's Time You Marry Me

Adam [2009]:

Adam Raki:

Safe Place

Rambling

Freckles and Constellations

You're the Right Person, so It's the Right Time

The Bear:

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto:

Welcome Home

Interrogation

Kindness

The Blacklist:

Donald Ressler:

Soft

Well Earned

Too Cold

This Is Not a Hospital

Threats

Ability

Day Off

Drinks

Aftermath

Of Course

Blood & Chocolate (2007):

Aiden Galvin:

Harsh Reality

It's Got Me Planning for the Future and Worrying About the Past

Bodyguard:

David Budd:

Christmas and New Years

I Stumbled in at the Wrong Time (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

Bones:

Lance Sweets:

Nervous

And All of the Nights Will Lead into the Night with Me

Charlie Countryman:

Nigel:

Theoretical

Letting Go

I Would’ve Stayed till Death Took Me Out but Then You Fucked Up and Gave Me the Gun

Confessions of a Shopaholic:

Luke Brandon:

Denial

Death Stranding:

Sam Porter Bridges:

Resting

Realignment

Downton Abbey: A New Era:

Jack Barber:

The Look

Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves:

Xenk Yendar:

Cruel Trick of Fate

Ella Enchanted:

Prince Charmont:

I Need to Save the Best for Last, I'm Serious

You Brought Heaven Down to Right Where I Stood

Five Nights at Freddy's [Movie]:

Mike Schmidt:

Babysitting

Gilmore Girls:

Dean Forester:

Fearless

Jess Mariano:

Quizzing

Good Omens:

Aziraphale & Crowley:

The Angel, The Demon, and the University Student They "Adopted"

Crowley:

When a Demon Stumbles onto the Doorstep of a Bookshop

Gossip Girl [2021]:

Max Wolfe:

No Other Expectations

Insecurities & Loose Lips

Parties & Stubbornness

Haven:

Duke Crocker:

Touch

House M.D:

Dr. James Wilson:

I Don’t Know What I Was Expecting

Commitment

Dr. Robert Chase:

Waste of Time

Ibiza: Love Drunk:

Leo West:

I Don’t Really Care About That

I Came By:

Toby Nealey:

Coming Back for You

The Invitation:

Walt Deville:

Lovely Night

Freedom [Part 2: The Right Choice] [Part 3: The Perfect Eternity]

Roses

Killing Eve:

Villanelle:

Calm Down

Kingsman Franchise:

Gary “Eggsy” Unwin:

New Year’s Kiss

Fights

I'm Wrong, Right?

Mission

Knives Out Franchise:

Benoit Blanc:

Christmas Day

The Last of Us:

Joel Miller:

Human Connection

Is It Insensitive for Me to Say Get Your Shit Together, So I Can Love You?

Fine

There's So Much I Wanna Tell You, But I Don't Know If It'll Fit

Tests

MacGyver (2016):

Angus MacGyver:

Field Work

The Collection of Failed Date Nights

The Mandalorian:

Din Djarin:

I Thought We Were…

Mr. Robot:

Elliot Alderson:

Who Have You Been Talking To?

The Path:

Cal Roberts:

Supportive

Three Things

Peaky Blinders:

Tommy Shelby:

Shock

Polar:

Duncan Vizla:

Stupid Mistakes

Prodigal Son:

Malcolm Bright:

An Extra Dose of Chaos (Criminal Minds Crossover)

Snow On Valentines Day

I’m Not a Party Kind of Person

Roar (Apple TV):

Bobby Bronson:

Drunk Mess

Robin Hood (2018):

Robin of Loxley:

Knock It Off

The Rookie:

Tim Bradford:

The Worst Day

Schitt’s Creek:

David Rose:

Dammit

New Adventures

Stevie Budd:

Helping Hand

Scream (TV Series):

Tom Martin (from season 2, episode 13):

Alive

Sweetbitter:

Jake:

Wanted

A Kind Act

But You’re Not Allowed, She’s Got You Under Lock and Chain

Uncomfortable Questions

Sick Day

Redefining Affection

No Big Deal (I Love You)

Utopia:

Thomas Christie:

How Much Did You Know?

Wolfblood:

Rhydian Morris:

NASA

Protective By Nature

#fanfiction #imagine #x reader #masterlist

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maidmerrymint · 3 years

Text

I can't stop thinking about a Peaky Blinders x Downton Abbey crossovers. I think Alfie and Edith would be cute!!

#alfie solomons #lady edith crawley #peaky blinders #downton abbey #crossover

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rose-edith · 3 years

Text

(3) Your Grandmother the Dowager Countess meets your fiancé Tommy would include:

(Crawley!Reader x Tommy Shelby. Peaky Blinders x Downton Abbey: Crossover.)

•dinner was perhaps something that Tommy and you were most nervous about. Yours and Tommy’s dinners in Birmingham were little more than two courses- a main and a pudding. But at Downton the set up was much more complicated.

•and then there were the wines for each course, and the cutlery and plates and how Carson and Alfred and James would weave around the table delivering platters and the such. You’d done the best to train Tommy in how things worked, but so far all he’d really managed to learn was that with the cutlery you start from the outside and work your way in.

• after you’d rushed through getting dressed for dinner you’d dismissed Bates and helped Tommy to get dressed yourself. He felt uncomfortable in such formal attire, but for you he’d wear a clown suit…so white tie and tails is the least he could do. You’d done your best to make him look like a gentleman, and he carried it off well! But you longed simply for Tommy. Your Tommy, the Birmingham lad that had so easily won your heart and swept you off your feet.

•you were both lucky that your Mother had set the seats on the plan so that Tommy was sat between you and Sybil, with Sybil’s husband Tom on the other side of her. So hopefully Tommy would simply be able to copy your actions and you’d both survive dinner!

•and of course there was the other big hurdle to overcome…your Grandmother, the Dowager Countess of Grantham. You’d warned Tommy that she had a razor sharp tongue, and naturally, upon discovering the engagement of her youngest granddaughter to a working class unknown man from Birmingham her fiery side came straight out.

•she stared coldly at Tommy as he held out his hand to shake hers, so you took hold of his hand in your own and gave it a squeeze. Your Grandmother was at least a little warmer with you, and greeted you with half a hug and a kiss on the cheek. She disapproved of your choice of beau, but she still loved you.

•and then Carson called you all into dinner. To say it was awkward as you all sat down was an understatement! And as per the ‘rules’ of polite society you were left talking to your Mother for the first course, you’d only be able to turn and talk to Tommy when the second course arrived. Fortunately Sybil was easily talking to Tommy, and she managed to make her actions obvious so that both Tom and Tommy could copy her and not put a foot wrong. You couldn’t help but smile at the display…at least until you saw the almost angry look in your Mother’s eyes.

•the first course was painful for you, but from what you could hear conversation was flowing easily between Tommy and Sybil- but as you’d been totally honest with Sybil in your regular letters and phone calls to one another, she knew pretty much everything to know anyway! You were glad at least to have one Ally in the family.

•Carson however was far less impressed with having to wait not only on Tommy but on Sybil’s husband Tom too. But neither man seated at the table commented on the cool service they received, when you could turn to Tommy in the second course you told him to ignore Carson, they’d get used to this new world eventually!

•the conversation at the table did seem a bit stifled and awkward in general, but you did your best to ignore it.

•and ignoring it was going really well until Mary slammed her spoon down and ran from the room crying about an argument she and Matthew had had!

•unfortunately your Grandmother had caught the little nudge you’d given Tommy to get him to stand up as Mary left the room- he didn’t quite grasp the rules surrounding about when to stand and when to sit when people left and entered rooms.

•so while Tom went to Matthew and Cora (your Mother) went to Mary, your Grandmother turned to you and Tommy. She had a twinkling look in her eye as she ‘open fired’ about the alarming lack of basic manners and decency in the youth these days.

•your face went hot and you felt your blood start to boil. You were quite prepared to unleash a tirade against your Grandmother, but Tommy slipped his hand onto your thigh under the table, halting your verbal volley.

•instead he smiled at the elderly woman and nodded sincerely. “You’re quite right Lady Grantham, I’ll be sure to mention those poor manners to some young people if I ever see any., better yet I’ll get my friend Winston Churchill to get basic manners added to school curriculums!” He smirked at her and turned on his charm, if you didn’t know better you’d say that Tommy was flirting with those twinkling eyes. And it had the most extraordinary effect!

•at the mention of Churchill everyone’s ears perked up, and you gave Tommy a warning glance- name dropping was ok, but Churchill wasn’t exactly a friend…

•but then something unexpected happened…your Grandmother laughed! She actually grinned at something Tommy said! So naturally, you couldn’t help but smile too. Granny was absolutely smitten!

• “Mr Shelby, I do believe you’re going to be an interesting addition to the family. But as we already boast a revolutionary chauffeur- sorry,” she held up her hands as Sybil started interjecting about Tom’s new job, “journalist, and we’re soon to include a lawyer in our mix, your social class is hardly the reason why my son disapproves of you. No, it’s whatever hold you have over my granddaughter.” The Dowager spoke and cut off Tommy as he started to say he held no hold over you, the elderly woman just smiled. “Love is the most precious, expensive, costly hold. You’ve won yourself a Crawley girl. Best you look after her heart, and best you don’t steal mine either!” She joked, cooing laughter that had all the ladies at the table smothering smiles. Who knew THE Violet Crawley would fall so readily for the charms of a Shelby?

•you couldn’t help but grin at Tommy, and Granny stared at the picture of love she saw. Tommy still had a lot to prove, but she could see well enough for herself that you were both in love.

•across the table Robert glared at Tommy. He still didn’t believe that this was love, he thought you were too silly and too caught up in the sex appeal the young man had. Little did he know the truth, so he closed his mind to the possibility, and he made a note to get his lawyer Murray to do some background checks on the Shelby’s.

#peaky blinders headcanon #peaky blinders x downton abbey #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #downton abbey headcanons #downton abbey imagine #downton abbey x reader #Downton abbey #tommy shelby headcanon #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #Tommy shelby

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