#polly kin

[lxvenderskies]

REQUEST: polly giest (monster prom) moodboard with pastel green and neon cyan for anon

[artyasumi]

You've done hero and the bread twins

How about Mari or Polly now?

Polly REAL i love her sooo bad i want her to make me dinner

Award for most diverse maid outfit design so far!!!

[citizenoftmrrwlnd]

stimboard for : an isopod without specifics requested by @germtimes

x | x | x x | x | x x | x | x

[cafedivinity]

Polly the reindeer and Stampy cat stimboard with themes of cats, reindeer, minecraft, and food!!

X/X/X

X/X/X

X/X/X

[kincalling]

heyyyy i’m polly geist from monster prom! lookin for any sourcemates tbh. int w this and i’ll message ya!

🎧

[toomanysubcultures]

polly plantar is the realest amphibia character ever

an anarchist kid who loves technology and has an interest in engineering???? she just like me fr

[evita-shelby]

Is it possible if you to do a story for pesky blinders, where Tommy’s now ex girlfriend is back, after leaving during the night before he went off to war because she had found out she was pregnant.. and with being back she was sneaking around until she ran into Polly and then eventually runs into tommy..

Sorry if none of that makes sense lol

thank you and you make perfect sense.

i do apologize for it being short and ending the way it does. lol sorry

Chance

Gif by @zerenitysblog

To your credit, you do not panic when you find Polly Gray bouncing three-year-old Charlie on her knee.

“Looks exactly like him, it’s a wonder no one’s caught on yet.” The older woman said as she continued to play with her great-nephew.

You had left when you learned you were pregnant and that Tommy ---instead of talking this out with you like an adult--- signed up with his brothers and neighbors and formed their own battalion.

You had been angry and because neither of you left an address to write, he was entirely unaware of little Charlie. That was until Polly spotted you in church and followed you to the Patch. There she discovered your son, and you already know that she will tell his father and ‘set this right’ by having you marry the fucking coward who chose to die in France instead of talking to you.

“If someone has to tell Tommy, it has to be me.” You say and she nods shrewdly.

“Of course, sweetheart. If anyone must tell Tommy he’s got no foot to stand on, it’s the mother of his child.” Polly agreed, confirming the gossip about Ada and Freddie you’ve heard from your kin.

You plan for it, you rehearse the words you must say and yet your courage fails you when you see him struck dumb by the sight of the barmaid one Sunday after mass.

He has moved on; the blonde miss won’t like the idea of him having a bastard and he would deny his own son if it got him the aloof posh girl playing the barmaid with a heart of gold.

And yet, he sees you from behind the woman and calls out to you instead. “Y/N.”

 “Hello, Tommy.” All your words fail you when he sees his blue eyes reflected in his son’s. For a moment, the world disappears and only you three exist. “Can we talk?”

A/N 9/11/2023: the fic is sadly completed. I don’t know if i will ever come back to it. Ending is up to you guys

[notyour-valentine]

The Spirits that I summoned (Young!Tommy)

[Masterlist] [Taglist]

Summary: Where Arthur sees danger, Tommy sees a quick way to make some money and use people's prejudices against them.

Note: This is my participation for Chi @little-diable 's 15k celebration - what an accomplishment, and what an incredible, versatile body of work. In typical student mindset, I'm scraping the deadline, but I hope you enjoy all the same. The quote I drew was: Even as a child I felt it, and marvelled at the power of this woman who, though veiled, could electrify a room

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.

Warning: Stereotypes of travellers (in line with what is shown in canon)

Wordcount: 1588

He twirled the coin between his fingers. It was a habit of his he knew he better ought to shake. 

Though his hand was hidden deep in the pocket of his brown worn trousers, Tommy knew one glance would give away his restless nature, his nerves. His weakness. 

Lucky for him, his counterparts weren’t always as perceptive. 

They were young, younger than he was, but not by much. And they were playing dress up, the same way the children were doing down at the fair, picking up wooden sticks and calling themselves knights. 

Oh they had chosen well, he had to give them that - sturdy boots made for walking, weatherproof coats, and thick scarves to keep out the cold. 

But the leather was polished to a shine, the shoes free from any scratch. And the coats had never seen repairs, at least none that were visible to the eye. 

The scarves matched the boots and the boots the purse and the purse the coat. All a little too perfect to be accidental. 

Besides, the shorter one of the two had forgotten to take her earrings off. 

Pearl, he could easily tell, even in the fleeing light, with a little gold stud. 

Tommy knew money when he saw it, and he saw it now in the shape of these two newcomers. 

“Go-good evening.”, one of them said, looking from one to the other. 

Arthur only glared at them suspiciously. 

“Are, ahm, are you one of the-”, she gestured to the illuminated camp site behind them. 

“Who’s asking?”, Arthur wanted to know, building himself up to his full height. 

He had a strange look in his eye as if he wasn’t sure whether to scare them off or take them to bed. Either one. Or both. 

“We, ah, well, we-”, the one stammered again, nervously fidgeting for words. 

“We want our fortunes told.”, the other one said sharply. “They say you people know how to read palms and teacups. We want to know our future.”

Do you now?, Tommy thought, his eye-catching the reflection of the moon on those earrings, those pretty, expensive earrings. Peal and gold. 

“Yes.”, the first one, the shy one said. “Please.”

“Oh I can read palms alright.”, Arthur said, running a hand through his hair. 

“Arthur,”, Tommy said, cutting off his older brother, who glared at him as if Tommy had slapped him. 

He gestured for his brother to take a few steps away. 

“What are you on about, Tommy?”, Arthur demanded to know. “I like the look of the tall one. You stay out of it.”

“Shut up and don’t think with your cock for once.”, he sneered. 

His brother’s face hardened. 

“You can either get your end wet, or…we can make a sweet little something off of them.”

Arthur shifted on his feet, humming under his breath. 

“You think?”, he said. “Bringing them to Aunt Pol? Or Queen Boswell?”

Tommy shook his head. 

“We’re not bringing them anywhere.”

Birmingham was too far away, where Polly was haggling with the baby and Ada, and that Boswell hag would only take more than her share of a cut. 

Besides, these girls weren’t kin. They didn’t know what they were asking for. So they wouldn’t know what they would receive either. 

Arthur didn’t seem too convinced. 

“Mother said not to mess with things we didn’t understand. That if we disrespect the traditions, there’d be punishment.”

Their mother had said that. Their mother had also had most of her visions when she had drunk a gallon of rum or whisky in a single evening. 

Tommy was already thinking about how much those earrings would buy them - food, or new winter shoes for the whole lot of them. Maybe even a horse they could train to race. 

He’d like a horse, but those shoes would have to come first. 

“Just let me do the talking, eh?”, he told Arthur before turning back to the women. 

“So what made you come to us?”, Tommy asked, after bringing them into Polly's wagon and telling Arthur to stand guard. 

He could see the girls' eyes dart around it, picking up in little details. The crochet curtains, the Black Madonna, the framed pictures of the family. The countless candles. 

The girls exchanged a look, then one glanced down while the other squirmed in her seat. 

“My brother thinks it's all a hoax.”, the first told her lap. “But he wasn't there when…”

She took a deep breath. 

“Our mother used to hire a woman to tell their fortunes. A traveller woman.”, she said. 

“We weren't allowed to be there, but we saw her enter. Even as a child I felt it, and marvelled at the power of this woman who, though veiled, could electrify a room.”

She dropped her voice to a whisper. 

“Everything she said came true.”

Tommy nodded solemnly. 

“It's good to know you have a respect for these matters.”, he said. “Oftentimes those that are not learned in these arts underestimate the forces at play.”

He tried his best to choose words as ceremonious as possible. 

“Are you sure you want me to read your palms and tell your future?” 

The girls nodded eagerly. 

“We have money!”

She reached into her purse and pulled out a few coins. Tommy knew at a glance it wasn't a stingy offer, but the pearls would be worth more and so he shook his head. 

“Knowledge of the future cannot be bought with coin. It has to be a trade.”

“A trade?”, the shorter one asked. 

Tommy hummed. 

“Sometimes they'd tell the farmers the days weather and get a few apples for their worries. A fair price for something trivial. Are you asking about something trivial?”

He already knew they weren't, that was why he was telling these lies. 

It wasn't long before one urged the other and she took off one of her earrings. 

Just like he had hoped. 

“I want to ask about women.”, she said, slipping off her gloves and handing her hands to him in a show of surprising determination. 

“On the continent there are whispers of a woman's emancipation, of votes for women and equal rights to men.”

Tommy nearly laughed. 

“Will that happen here in England too?”

She looked almost eager, like a child desperate for sweets. 

Tommy took her hand in his, squinted, then ran his fingers along her palm. 

Just like he had thought, a soft hand that smelled of expensive ointment, probably lavender. 

“I can see you think highly of the value and purpose of your sex.”, he said, before contonuing. “Others will come to realise it's indispensability in a more clear, more distinct way.”

Poor brother, father or lover to deal with the consequences of his words, but Tommy wanted that earring, so he decided to add just a little more. 

He took a deep shaking breath and nodded. 

“And yes- don't let the distance to the continent discourage you. What happens there will spread.”

He lowered her hand gently. 

“Me now.”, the other one insisted. 

“A moment.”, Tommy asked, dabbing his dry brow with his sleeve. “Tis not an easy task for me, nor was it an easy question.”

He bit back his smirk at the look of sympathy in the woman's eyes. 

Finally he cleared his throat and urged the other woman to give him her hand. Gently, he stroked her palm while glaring deeply into her eyes. 

“I'm getting married soon.”, she said. “Or I may be. I'm not too sure about him.”

“Do you love him?” Tommy asked. 

“I do, but…”, she sighed. “He is a soldier, training to be an officer.”

“And?”

“I'm not sure I want to be married to a young Officer in His Majesty's army. But it's a thankless business being a soldier's wife.”

“And now you have come for insight to clear your doubts.”, he asked, before glancing at her palm. 

He took more time now, running along the lines of her palm, shifting and squinting and making a right show of it. 

“I can tell you one thing.”, he said. “It will not be thankless.”

“No?”, she asked. 

“Oh no- if you think your intended is set for a dull career in the forces, you are much mistaken.” He said. “I see service, yes, duty and courage too, but it will not be thankless. It will be celebrated and honored and remembered for generations to come.”

“My George?”, she asked surprised. “You can see that just in my hand?”

“That and more.”, Tommy promised her, picking up in the glint in her eyes. She may not like the idea of being a soldier's wife, but she seemed to enjoy the thought of being a hero's ons. 

“Medals, marches, hymns-”, he nodded, trying to piece together what little he knew of soldiery, most of it what he had picked up from pinched newspapers. 

“And the pride of our whole nation.”

Wasn't that what they said soldiers were? Those soldiers at the races certainly thought they were- as if all of England should bow before them just because they put on a sense of importance along with their uniforms.

But those words made her beam from ear to ear- both now without their earrings, as they left, clearly content with their visions of heroism and women's rise. 

Tommy let them go gladly, his fingers toying with the earrings in his pocket. They were worth a pretty penny and could stretch far. 

Easy money, for once. He didn't even pity those two for their ignorance. Of course he had never learned to read palms or cards or dreams, why should he? 

He had never shared Polly's conviction or Arthur's fear. Why should he? It was all just smoke and mirrors, nonsense, and charlatanry. Nothing to lose sleep over, he thought, as he tossed one of the earrings up in the air and caught it again.

~

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

[zablife]

Tachipen (Part 1)

Tommy x female reader

Summary: With the flip of a coin, Tommy makes a deal to bring a 20 year old gypsy girl into the Shelby clan. Considering her too young to marry, he employs her as a nanny. When tragedy strikes, he’s forced to confront the truth he has always known. 

Author’s Note: This was requested by @honey-im-hotdog who asked for a fic about Charlie’s nanny. I decided to turn it into a series. The story will be told through flashbacks, but I will note the year. Tommy meets y/n in 1919 and the story goes thru present time which is the year of the vendetta, 1925. 

Warnings: language, slurs, mention of arranged marriage, fighting, mention of blood

1924

“Step out of the picture, please,” the photographer called out loudly enough to make you jump. Feeling you startle, Charlie erupted in tears and you did your best to soothe him as Polly stretched her arms out to receive the child. “M sorry Pol,” you mumbled, attempting to step aside. “You’ll stay right here, y/n,” Tommy said firmly. Polly gave him a surprised look, but said nothing as she dropped her hands by her sides. “She’s family,” Tommy said with a small nod of his head and ushered you to stand between him and Arthur. As you took your place, you glanced at Linda. Her lips were tightly pursed in disapproval, one hand resting over the swell of her stomach. You tried to hide your discomfort behind an air of respectful silence, as today didn’t belong to her. Today was for remembrance and out of love for little Charlie, you would do all you could to keep the peace. 

As the bulb above the camera flashed bright white, you thought of the moment you met Tommy Shelby. The glint of the gold coin winking at you in the afternoon sunlight as though it knew the cruel hand it would deal you. “That’s heads, Esmerelda comes with us,” Tommy stated matter-of-factly, picking up the coin from the lush green grass and placing it carefully in his pocket. No one spoke as your father’s eye drifted toward you and your sisters. 

“Esmerelda is already promised, Mr. Shelby. Unless you want a war with the Lees, you’ll leave her right where she is,” he warned through gritted teeth.

“Those weren’t the terms of our wager,” Tommy reminded him. “Did I not say the horse and a daughter of my choosing?”

“No, you didn’t,” your father countered, puffing out his chest toward the gangster. 

“Calling my brother a liar?” John Shelby asked, marching toward the two men in large strides. You could tell by his swagger he liked to prove himself in a fight and he was spoiling for one now. Two other men in your camp sensed as much because they came to stand behind your father.

Johnny Dogs rushed forward placing himself between the two factions, laying his hands on Tommy’s shoulders and pushing him backward gently. He spoke in a frantic voice saying, “Tommy, get your family out of here and go enjoy the fair before they start a war, huh?” Then he turned and spoke in Romani to the men behind him advising them, “They come from good people. His granddad was a king!” Tommy straightened his coat, placing his peaked cap on his head when a voice in the crowd shouted, “Yeah, but his mother was a diddicoy whore!”

You gulped at the words, watching the three Shelby brothers fly into a fit of rage, brandishing their razor caps skillfully. In mere moments, they had your kin on the ground and you watched helplessly as they were sliced open, kicked and beaten. Your sisters screamed by your side and you all huddled together for protection.

“Run,” your youngest sister suggested to Esmerelda. “She can’t now. They’d find her no matter where she traveled,” you replied logically. As you looked from one sister to the other, the only possible solution to stop the bloodshed came to you. If you offered yourself you could save Esmerelda. The product of your father’s first marriage, no one held a candle to her in your father’s estimation. However, you didn’t blame her for that. After your own mother died she had lovingly watched over you when your father was too drunk to care. You would never forget that and now you felt it was time to repay her kindness.

“Stop! Stop! I’ll go. Take me!” you shouted over the chaos and the men broke apart in surprise long enough to watch you approach Tommy. He stood as you placed a hand on his arm tentatively. He struggled to regain his breath after the fighting, running a hand through his hair to smooth it back into place. Looking at you incredulously he asked, “How old are you?”

You stood tall, chin held high and replied, “Twenty…Old enough to become your wife.”

Tommy suddenly turned his back to you shaking his head at the ground and your heart thundered in your chest, panicking at the thought of his rejection. 

“No, no. I didn’t come here for this,” he said gesturing back at you. He’d barely noticed you before, thinking you a mere child and he hadn’t been far off. What he was asking suddenly felt very wrong when he considered the decade that separated you. 

“Well what the fuck did you do that for then, Tom?” Johnny asked, gesturing toward the men lying bloodied on the ground.

Tommy took his head in his hands and turned back to you, pointing a finger. “I won’t take you as a wife. I won’t do it,” he said unable to look you in the eye. He bit the inside of his cheek as he thought then asked, “But me brother has four children who run barefoot through the streets at all hours and they need someone to look after them. You could come work for us,” he said, setting his jaw and finally meeting your gaze. 

You took a deep breath feeling relieved at the prospect and you nodded in agreement. Tommy glanced at your father who was dabbing at a cut lip and they shook on it. Despite your father’s preference for this outcome, he was still angered by the events of the day. You could tell by the twitch of his mustache and the flicker of anger that had yet to extinguish from his deep brown eyes. 

You crossed to him slowly, twisting your hands together in nervous anticipation, but he had little he wanted to discuss with a woman who gave herself to a gangster so freely. “You’ll pack your bag and get out,” was all he said. 

Tears welling in your eyes you nodded and went to get your possessions. As you finished packing, you hugged your sisters goodbye, wondering when or if you’d ever see them again. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m so sorry,” Esmerelda cried into your shoulder. 

“Don’t be. It isn’t your fault,” you comforted her. 

“Take this,” she said passing you a small blade with a pearl handle to place in your boot. “You’ll have to look after yourself now, but I know you can,” she said, attempting to convince herself more than you. 

As you exited the vardo, Tommy accepted a dappled gray mare from an old woman in camp. The horse was one of your favorites and it comforted you to know you’d have one friend with you as you journeyed away from your camp. Tommy motioned for you to join him and you slid along the bench seat, taking your place next to him in the car. It would be the first time you’d ever ridden in an automobile, though you couldn’t bring yourself to find any excitement in it. As the car lurched forward and eventually gathered speed, taking you away from your family, you glanced around the car of stone like faces feeling your earlier sense of confidence slipping away. You were left with a stinging loneliness that would not cease.

———————————————————————-

1919

It was late when you arrived in Small Heath. You were shown to a room and told you would meet the children in the morning. After a brief introduction to a formidable woman named Aunt Polly, you trudged upstairs for some rest. As you climbed into bed you heard them speaking in hushed whispers downstairs, Tommy explaining how you had come to stay with them. You could tell from her tone that Polly did not approve.

Alone in the kitchen, Polly stamped out her cigarette with a warning to her nephew. “Tommy this is how it started with your mum. Brought here against her will, forced to live with a man she barely knew. She came to despise him. Gypsies have to move around or it all gets to be too much.” Polly stopped speaking when she noticed the distant look in Tommy’s eye. He didn’t need anyone to remind him of the day his mother walked into the cut. How could Polly think he would allow that to happen to you? You were here to do a job and would be allowed to leave whenever you pleased. You’d come of your own free will. At least that’s what he tried to tell himself that night before the opium took effect. 

But in his dreams that night he watched you walk toward a stream, sunlight shining through your hair. You turned to speak to him with tears in your eyes, but the words were carried away on the wind. You pointed over the hill and as he followed your line of sight he saw the beautiful dappled gray mare dead beneath a hazel tree and he woke with a start, sweat dripping from his brow. As he sat up and reached for his cigarettes he heard you quietly weeping on the other side of the wall. What had he done?

Cont. reading Part 2

————————————————————————————-

Tag list:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@tommydoesntpayforsuits

@shelbydelrey

@alanadetigy

@wandawiccan60   

@easilyobessedbutflighty

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@peakyrogers

@christinasyellowflowers

@notyour-valentine

@theshelbyclan

@peaky-cillian

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@celticmelody

@cillmequick

@dreamlandcreations

@there-goes-thefighter

@rangerelik

@raincoffeeandfandoms

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@look-at-the-soul

@runnning-outof-time

@l1-l4

@floraroselaughter

[celestialprincesse]

🎩🪄

Seeing as everyone is currently sharing their COD OC's over at @charliemwrites I thought I'd share mine who's in the works!💕🎀

Name : Katarina 'Kitty' Jones

Aliases : Houdini , Witch , Kitty , KJ Age : 26 DOB : August 29 1998 Birthplace : Dallas , Texas , USA Current residence : Manchester , UK Spouse : N/A Height : 5'1 , 155cm, 1.55m Role : Intelligence acquisition - TS/SCI Date enlisted -2010 , British Infantry -2017 , Special Air service Date discharged:2021, honorable discharge Skills & specialisations: Covert reconnaissance , covert surveillance , long range shooting (sniper skills) , weapons handling , sabotage & infiltration , languages Languages : English (fluent) , French (Fluent) Notes : - Physically active (swimming, running) - Emotional support animal - Next of Kin N/A

Notable features : Heterochromia , mallen streak , large scar from left shoulder to right hip

Kitty Jones, known to most in her field simply as 'Houdini' specialises in intelligence acquisition and reconnaissance, having served four years in the SAS, honourably discharged following capture by enemy officers which led to severe physical and psychological trauma.

Having worked closely alongside CIA Agent Kate Laswell, Jones was offered a role working alongside the Task Force 141 ( see files below : John Price , Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick , John 'Soap' MacTavish , Simon 'Ghost' Riley ) Gathering information on enemy forces and supporting infiltration missions.

Teammates and coworkers have described Jones as 'fiery, but a real sweet lass when you know her' , 'too smart' , 'tiny but deadly' , and 'polly pocket if she was evil'

[loverhymeswith]

Spellbound

Day Four of the October Dreams 1K Follower Event

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Witch!OFC

Summary: Polly’s meddling has unintended consequences for Tommy

Word Count: 1.8K

Warnings: Smoking, drinking, language, set around season four but mostly spoiler free

A/N: Dedicated to @a-reader-and-a-writer ❤️

“There’s a woman here to see you, Tom.”

Tommy tears his gaze from the pile of paperwork strewn across the desk to find Lizzie hovering in the doorway. His secretary’s face is a careful mask of indifference as she leans against the wooden frame, but her apparent apathy is belied by the hint of jealousy in her voice.

There’s nothing for her to worry about, Tommy muses to himself, reaching for the half-empty carton of cigarettes resting on the far side of his desk. He doesn’t have any of those appointments booked this evening - or for the foreseeable future. These days, sex is the furthest thing from his mind.

Pushing the paperwork to the side with one hand and lighting his cigarette with the other, he inclines his head. “Send her in then, eh?” Under normal circumstances, he wouldn’t be so accommodating towards unexpected visitors, but heaven knows he could do with a distraction.

Lizzie nods brusquely and disappears from the doorway before he can ask her to fetch him another packet of cigarettes.

“He says you can go in,” he hears her mutter in a clipped tone.

Choosing not to acknowledge her possessiveness for the time being - that’s another problem for another day - Tommy reclines in his chair and takes a long drag of his cigarette. He exhales heavily and when the smoke clears, he casts his attention over the woman who has taken Lizzie’s place.

Her appearance is unexpected. Striking, even, to say the least. Dressed from head to toe in black, she’s at least a foot shorter than his secretary but just as slight. A headscarf conceals much of her hair, and she appears to be dressed in a riding cloak and long skirts, a far cry from the ever-changing ladies’ fashion he has grown accustomed to in recent years.

Tommy narrows his gaze, trying to place her. It’s unheard of for his mother’s kin to approach him like this; these days, all communication flows through Esmee or Johnny Dogs. A gut feeling tells him this woman is something else entirely.

Seeming to shrink under the weight of his stare, his visitor is the first to break the silence, taking a tentative step forward as she murmurs, “Mr Shelby?”

There’s a note of nervousness in her soft Birmingham accent, which comes as little surprise. Clearly, she knows exactly who she’s dealing with. What he’s capable of. And why wouldn’t she? After all, the Shelby reputation continues to precede him.

Tommy nods, exhaling another cloud of smoke in her direction. “And who might you be?”

“Your aunt Polly sent me,” she answers, choosing to omit her name as she glances around the dimly lit office. “I’m sorry for turning up unannounced but she said it was for the best.”

A familiar sense of irritation prickles within Tommy’s veins as he recalls the particularly contentious conversation he’d had with Polly not two nights ago. It would seem his aunt has finally made good on her threats.

“Come in and close the door,” he barks, stubbing out his cigarette with more force than necessary.

The woman does as he commands, crossing the room until only the large mahogany desk separates them. With the distance between them now halved, he’s taken aback by how young she is, how her skin is unblemished and her hair - thick and dark - threatens to escape from two untidy braids. Her pale blue eyes, currently filled with the hint of trepidation, are lined with kohl.

“So you’re the witch, eh?” He raises his brow, wishing he’d poured himself a whiskey before agreeing to see this woman.

The feeling only intensifies as her striking gaze lingers on him for a beat longer than is comfortable and her voice takes on a more confident edge.

“We don’t like to use that term these days, Mr Shelby.”

“No?” Tommy considers this, pulling out another cigarette from his dwindling supply and rolling it across his bottom lip. “What would you have me call you then?”

The woman’s shoulders lift slightly, apparently unfazed by his churlish response. “Some call us healers.”

“Healers?” he scoffs around the cigarette, the beginning of a headache starting to form. “You think I’m in need of fixing?”

“What I think is irrelevant, Mr Shelby. But Polly seems to think so.”

Polly. Damn that meddlesome woman. One day she’ll realise that some things - some people - are better left broken. And even if he could undo the events of the last five years, there is simply no coming back from what happened in France. There is no coming back from death.

“Polly doesn’t know anything. And you are wasting your time.” He waves his hand towards the door. He has absolutely no intention of entertaining Polly’s fantasies tonight - or ever. “No amount of magic or potions is going to change a bloody thing. So you can leave now.”

Despite his disparaging tone, the woman doesn’t baulk. “She already paid me twenty shillings to come here tonight.”

“Twenty shillings, eh?” He blinks back his surprise. “That’s quite a profit you must be turning. And you didn’t just take the money and run?”

She frowns at the implied insult, her pink lips pursing. “My grandmother taught me better than that. Besides, Polly is a friend of the family.”

“And who is your family?” he wonders aloud. “You’re not one of the Lees.” No, they assuredly would have taken the money and ran.

She shakes her head, her unwavering gaze still trained in his direction. “I’d prefer it if we kept my family out of it, Mr Shelby. As I said, I’m here at your aunt’s behest.”

Unaccustomed to being on the backfoot, Tommy is careful to hide his unease. This woman seems to know him - or his family, at least - but he has absolutely no idea where she has come from.

“Forgive my curiosity,” he mutters around the cigarette, not an ounce of contrition in his tone. “But I usually seek references when doing business. It’s good practice to know who you’re getting into bed with. Do you know Johnny Dogs?”

Her lips curl into a smile. “He offered me his hand in marriage once. My grandmother saw him off with a shotgun. Threatened to put a curse on him if he ever came back.”

“Smart woman, your grandmother.” Despite his misgivings, Tommy gestures for her to take a seat across from him, unable to deny his growing intrigue. He’d wanted a distraction, had he not? “Cigarette?”

She shakes her head, gracefully lowering herself into the spare armchair. “They’re bad for your health.”

“This is Birmingham, sweetheart. Everything is bad for your health. Including” - he points a finger in her direction - “witches.”

In lieu of a response, she smiles again and suddenly he finds himself wishing she’d remove that headscarf. Her face is still partially cast with shadows in the low light; he’d like to see all of her.

“So humour me.” He settles back in his seat and stubs out his second cigarette, both his headache and the desire for whiskey beginning to fade away. “What exactly has Polly paid you to do?” Tommy would be the first to admit that he has a complex relationship when it comes to his family’s faith in fortunes and curses.

“Besides the magic and potions, you mean?” she teases, her ring-clad fingers clasped in her lap.

Fighting the unexpected and somewhat disconcerting urge to smile back, Tommy nods. “Besides the magic and potions.”

“You’ll have to forgive me, Mr Shelby, but it’s bad for business to reveal all my secrets.”

There’s no trace of her initial apprehension as she continues to meet his eye. In fact, she seems to have relaxed in his presence. He can’t decide whether she’s brave or just naive.

“Tommy,” he tells her, taking both of them by surprise. “You can call me Tommy.”

She pauses for a moment, her blue gaze suddenly unreadable, before she replies, “Ok, Tommy.”

Another beat of silence passes between the two of them and there’s a noticeable change in the air as it fills with an electric charge - the portent of a gathering storm.

“You won’t tell me about your family, but it seems only fair I should get your name, eh?” Tommy remarks, offering her an expectant look. The truth is, he wants to keep her talking. Magic and potions be damned.

“Evelyn,” she murmurs, her answer taking him by surprise.

“I knew a girl named Evelyn once,” Tommy tells her, clearing his throat. Deep in the back of his mind, a memory is stirring. A truth, demanding to be revealed. “We called her Evie. Always had flowers in her hair. We played together as children on the banks of the canal. Me, her and Arthur.”

The woman, the witch - Evelyn - shifts in her seat. “What happened to her?”

“War happened,” he tells her, bluntly. “Never saw her again.”

That’s not to say he hadn’t thought about the girl often, although admittedly less so over the years. He’d made a point not to seek her out when he’d returned from France. It was safer to treasure her as a memory than trouble her with the demons that had followed him back to Small Heath.

“But you got to say goodbye.”

It’s less a question than a statement, but Tommy finds himself responding anyway, still grappling with that insistent feeling that he’s forgetting something. “I did.”

“You kissed her,” Evelyn continues solemnly. “At Digbeth Lock. After the summer fair.”

Thrown off balance entirely, Tommy stutters. “I- how did you know that?” He frowns, rubbing a hand across his jaw. Is he under the witch's spell right now?

Slowly, wordlessly, the witch begins to unwrap her headscarf. Tommy watches, spellbound, as her beautiful face finally comes into full view, a thin crown of crimson and ochre flowers resting atop her midnight hair. All of the air leaves his lungs in a single breath.

It can’t be.

“It’s you. It’s fucking you.” He shakes his head, eyes rapidly searching her face as he reconciles the woman before him with the memory of his childhood sweetheart. Evie. How could he have been so blind. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Evelyn clutches her discarded scarf tightly, her eyes now shining bright with unshed tears as she offers him a melancholy smile. “I was told the war had changed you, Tommy. Honestly, I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

Of course he remembered her. Evie. The girl with the flowers in her hair.

Abruptly, he rises to his feet, torn entirely between pouring himself a whiskey and gathering her into his arms.

The truth is, Tommy Shelby has always believed himself to be irrevocably broken. But maybe, just maybe, she could be the one to fix him.

[dearshelby]

Between the cross and the sword | T.S

Summary: After Tommy's plan of setting a marriage between John and Esme fails, he needs to find allies to fight the Lee's kin and have his back when he betray Billy Kimber. The solution to his problem might be the pretty lady from the Garrison lane he's been trying to pursue since his teenage years.

A/N: Milestone celebration? Tommy x widow? The road to peace? Never heard of them, please enjoy this random idea I came up with :⁠^⁠)

NEXT CHAPTER

Chapter 1: Love and business

The Shelbys arrived in Small Heath through the canal. The January boat carried two generations, the first were Edmund, his wife Birdie and their children, Arthur and Pollyanna. The second were Arthur's wife, Adeline, and the children, Arthur Jr. and Thomas.

None of them imagined that someday the Shelby name would rule (and terrify) the neighborhood, because when they arrived, another family already ruled the place.

The Clifton's kin had an awful reputation, although those who were close to them claimed they were good people. The rumors quickly interested Edmund, who wanted not only a place to settle for, but also a prolific land to plant the seeds of his ambition.

Getting close to the head of the family, Mr. Ned Clifton, wasn't an easy task, but any recluse or austerity from the man wouldn't survive the characteristic Shelby charm. After all, both men had the same goals, to provide their families the best they could.

At first, business was the only thing to unite the clams, Ned understood money while Edmund knew all about horses. Eventually, a successful betting shop was opened side-by-side with the Shelby's house, the Garrison pub was opened on the same street as the Clifton's house and a strong friendship blossomed from the partnership.

Since the heads of the families got close, the rest did too. Three generations of Clifton's and Shelby's were always seen together on the streets: Edmund with Ned, Arthur with Joseph and Arthur Jr and Thomas with Y/N and her sister Amelia.

Everything went happily until the death of Birdie Shelby. The woman carried the kin's heart in her hands and her demise soon took Adeline with her, she couldn't handle the absence of someone she was so close with and soon after many spiritual sessions, she drowned herself in the canal. Not much after Adeline's death, Arthur ran away from Birmingham without looking back, leaving Arthur Jr., Thomas, John, Ada and Finn for Polly to look after.

Suddenly, life wasn't so good anymore, but the families remained friends. With the passing of time, Edmund also met his end. Immersed in sorrow and grief, Thomas became even more fond of Y/N since she knew everything that happened in his life and always offered support.

Unfortunately, his affections were never reciprocated. Tommy tried to woo her by giving gifts, taking her to dinners, being affectionate and promising to look after her, to be a better husband than his father ever was, but her answer was always the same.

At last, the great war ravaged Europe, killing the country's hope, Tommy's sweetness and Y/N Clifton's father.

—

Tommy bit his finger trying to find a solution to his brand new problem. He wanted to invade John's house and beat the stupidity out of him, Tommy had explained exactly what would happen if he refused to marry Esme, but the youngest didn't care at all, recklessly turning his back on the Lees.

Ashamed and smoldering with rage, Tommy had to explain to Zilpha that the marriage wouldn't happen, therefore neither the alliance between families, the war would not only carry on, but would become bloodier.

A thousand possibilities ran in his head, if Zilpha told his plan of betraying Billy Kimber to other families he'd lose many allies and if that were the case, the Shelbys might as well say goodbye to Small Heath.

Guzzling down his whiskey glass, Tommy tried to remember anyone who could support him, he knew he didn't have the muscle to fight the Lees, Kimber and all their allies. He needed help.

Then, it occurred to him, the light at the end of the tunnel, he had someone willing to support him, perhaps not powerful as he was before, but blindly loyal to their fraternity.

The way to Ned Clifton's house was fast and filled with ideas. Tommy had the agenda in his head while knocking on Ned's door.

"Going!" he heard Amelia's voice, then Ned dismissing her, "It's alright, alright!" 

The door revealed an elderly man leaning on a walking stick. He narrowed his eyes before recognising who was in front of him.

"Tommy boy!" Ned greeted, "How are you? Come in!" 

"How are you?" he greeted and entered the house.

The place hadn't changed much from the last time Tommy was there. His heart beat stronger at the pictures of Y/N in the walls, but he pushed the feeling away.

"What do I owe the honor? You hadn't visited since the fucking war!" 

Sitting in the living room, Tommy pursed his lips looking at Ned, the man was more of a father than Arthur Sr ever was.

"I came to discuss business with you, Mr. Clifton," 

"No, cut the Mr. Clifton bullshit, I know you," Ned argued, "you must have fucked up badly to come at me," 

"Alright," he sighed, "I heard you plan to sell the Garrison to a man called Harry Phantom," 

"And? Don't worry about it, you still can drink there, they got a lovely barmaid now, have you heard? Giselle I think, or was it Hope-"

"Ned," Tommy interrupted, "I want you to sell the Garrison to me," 

"Oh, do you have the money for that?" 

"I do," 

"That betting shop must be going well then, I was never sure about it, never deemed it as lucrative, but your grandad insisted on the idea, guess he was right after all," his face closed up, "what do you want my pub for, boy?" 

"As you said, the betting shop is going well, I need a place to keep the money clean," 

"Why would you care for that? Your grandad never cared about honest money, in fact he was the one who started with this Peaky blinder shit," 

"I'm not my grandad, Ned, I plan to make a name for myself," Tommy stated, "that's the second reason why I'm here, people trust your judgment," 

"Obviously, I was here before the chinese and the italians, I know Small Heath," 

"Exactly, so if you make an alliance with a family, that means that family is trustworthy," 

"Where are you trying to get, Tommy boy?" Ned asked.

"The Lee family will come at me, I need someone to have my back, I know you still have many men working for you," 

"You're at war with these Lees?" 

"They're romani, you don't know them," Tommy explained, "I set a marriage between John and a girl from their kin, but John refused," 

"So now you want me to adhere to your war, you want my men and my pub in exchange for what?" 

"Thought you'd do it for our friendship, Ned," 

"No, no, you're like a son to me, Tommy, but that doesn't involve just me, besides you want a share of my reputation, how would we do that?" 

Tommy gulped at the question, in the past Ned was approving of his courtship towards Y/N, he wasn't sure of it now.

"Well, to make an alliance with the Lees I set a wedding,"

"I see," Ned nodded, "I thought you were over Y/N, unless you want Amelia this time?" 

"No," 

"And the question still remains, what do I win with that?" 

"You have no heirs, Joseph died in France and his wife died giving birth," 

"Amelia and Y/N were the world to Joseph," Ned said, "why should I trust his daughter, my granddaughter, in your hands?" 

"I thought you knew the answer to that," Tommy hesitated, "it's because I love her," 

"...The Garrison will be her dowry, not a cent more," 

"So we have a deal?" 

Ned spat on his hand and offered it to Tommy, who did the same, shaking hands, they sealed the deal. 

—

Tommy was focused on the probabilities when three hesitant knocks on his office's door took his attention. After setting the deal, Ned told him he'd deal with his granddaughter's rage himself, all Tommy would have to do was to wait until the wedding's preparations were done. That had tranquilized and allowed him to carry on with his business at the betting shop.

"Come," he answered, curious about who was paying him a visit since his family members never knocked before entering.

Y/N entered the office with a pout in her lips, her white dress swayed with her steps and even if Tommy knew she was probably there to fight him, he thought she was beautiful.

"Evening, Y/N," Tommy greeted.

"Spare me of your fakeness," she hissed, closing the door behind her, "grandad told me of your deal, I thought that despite everything you still cared about me,"

"I do," Tommy softly answered, "more than you can ever imagine,"

"Then why must you insist on trapping me in a marriage?" she teared up and for a second, Tommy considered breaking the deal just for her not to be upset with him.

"It's business, Y/N," he explained, "I need allies,"

"We're not the only families in fucking Birmingham, you could have gone to the italians, the chinese, the fucking irish, but no, the second you had an excuse for it, you went behind my back and asked grandad for my hand!" she thundered, "Without even talking to me! After I refused you so many times, I always tried to be your friend but you always wanted something more!"

"It's not women's business," he argued, "Ned and I set a deal, we didn't need your opinion,"

"Fuck you, Thomas Shelby!" she negatively nodded and rubbed off the tears in her eyes, "honestly, fuck you,"

"I hope you know that when we're married you can't talk to me like that,"

"We'll see about that," she challenged but soon lowered her guard, "listen, I'm sorry, alright? This is not what I came here for,"

Taking the seat across Tommy's desk, she fidgeted with her hands and licked her lips while thinking of her next words, "I wanted to talk to you because I know talking to my grandad would be the same as nothing-"

"As I already said, it's business, if you try to change my mind you'll waste your fucking time," he interrupted.

"I want to make a deal with you," she shyly reached for his hand across the desk, "because I know besides everything you still care about me, as I care about you,"

"Do you?" Tommy hid his surprise behind a blank face.

"Yeah, so grandad explained to me that you're at war with some Lee family, you need to improve your reputation and you need more soldiers, I understand that so I'll carry on with the deal, I'll marry you with no complaint as long as you promise me something,"

"Promise you what?"

"As soon as the war is over and this business is done, you'll give me a divorce," she squeezed his hand, "please, Tommy, that's all I ask from you,"

"You'd rather be a divorced woman in fucking Birmingham than being my wife?"

Y/N knew divorced women had a terrible reputation and the whole neighborhood wouldn't spare her of their judgment, but she didn't care, all she wanted was to marry someone she truly loved, it didn't matter if she would have to leave the county for that.

"Yes," she held Tommy's hand in between her both, "please, Tommy, I beg of you, do not trap me in a loveless marriage, you know I'd never be happy by your side,"

Slowly nodding, he gave in, he wished to see her excited to be his wife, but that wasn't the reality and he would have to accept that.

"Alright, Y/N," he squeezed her hand, "we have a deal."

—

The Shelby family roamed with excitement waiting for the church's door to open, Tommy waited on the altar with Arthur by his side. Not many Shelby weddings were made in churches, but all of the Clifton's did and since Tommy wanted a share of their reputation, he had to give in.

The Clifton's side was quiet, no ounces of happiness were seen on their faces, nor of disappointment or anger. It was hard to tell what they thought about the wedding, but then again, none except for Ned and Amelia were Cliftons per se, so their opinions didn't really matter.

Peaky boys protected the building from any possible attacks from the Lees, giving the ceremony a business-like atmosphere rather than a family day one.

The heavy doors opened, revealing Ned carrying the bride. Tommy's eyes softened at the view of her in a white dress, the lace veil covered her face and she had white and yellow roses in hand.

She slowly walked down the aisle, Ned gave her away with a smirk on his face, winking at Tommy when their eyes met. Lifting the veil, he found a blank faced Y/N, she offered a polite smile and turned to Jeremiah Jesus, the priest Tommy had chosen.

"Dearly beloved," he started, "we're here reunited today to join Thomas and Y/N in holy matrimony,"

Y/N peeked at Ned in the benches and turned back after an assuring nod. Noticing her nervousness, Tommy reached for her hand.

"Do you, Thomas Michael Shelby, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife, to live together in matrimony, to love, comfort, honor and keep, from this day forward, as long as you shall live?"

Squeezing her hand, Tommy answered, "I do,"

"Very well, do you, Y/N Clifton, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to live together in matrimony, to love, comfort, honor and obey, from this day forward, as long as you shall live?"

A mortal silence started before her lack of answer. She gulped looking at Tommy, his and her family sat behind them, the flower bouquet in her hand and finally, the priest again. With a small nod, she answered, "I do,"

"By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you man and wife," Jeremiah announced, "you may kiss the bride!"

Between roaring and applause from the Shelby kin, Y/N and Tommy faced each other, his eyes switched between her eyes and lips decorated by modest lipstick.

Cupping her face, he felt his heart beating stronger in his chest, he dreamt about kissing her for so long and even if it wasn't in the best circumstances, his dream became true.

Holding his wrists, she was the one to lock their lips together, the kiss was short, chaste, but she noticed his lips were incredibly soft.

They were officially married.

MASTERLIST

[theshelbyclan]

Little Devil

Summary: Teddy Shelby is the only one that can make her brothers forget about France, business and time itself

A/N: just as I wanted to write for Teddy again, because I too miss her at times, sweet anon requested: I’m having a hard day today, can you please write me something with Tommy and Teddy to cheer me up? Maybe the two of them just playing and Teddy being Teddy and Tommy having a hard time with her but secretly loving it too? I adore your writing and you always manage to make me feel better. Xx Aww Anon, I’m sorry you’re having a bad day and I really hope this helps, even just a little. Teddy being Teddy; here we go 😘

Words: 1212

*****

Triumphantly, Teddy stood in the kitchen with her newly stolen treasure burning hot in the pocket of the trousers she was wearing. She tried to hide her glee, but it didn’t quite work. Luckily, her brothers’ attention was elsewhere.

Moments before, she’d been sitting on John’s lap during tea and then spend some time with Tommy as well, but now they needed to talk, so Teddy had been pushed off. Her brothers were discussing business at the table, and she and Finn were allowed to stay in the room, on the one condition they wouldn’t interfere.

“When do we do it, Tom?” Arthur asked.

Tommy replied in a low voice, “Black star day. I’ll tell you when.”

“How about Johnny’s men? He’s got at least a dozen good men...”

“I’ll let you form an army, Arthur, but just remember to trust kin first, then the rest.”

Teddy watched them. She knew what they were planning, or she knew a little about it, and knew it involved the fairs. Tommy had told her, that as soon as she’d turned nine, she’d be old enough to go with them. Just a few more weeks.

“Tommy, we promised them protection...” John continued, looking at the diary and the books at the same time. He seemed worried, but Tommy appeared more relaxed than ever, slouching slightly in his chair, smoking. He had it all in hand.

Teddy watched him and smiled. When she grew up, she wanted to be like Tommy.

Unfortunately, Aunt Polly had other ideas for now, so she entered the kitchen and announced herself with the words, “Time for bed, Teddy!”

“No, it’s not!” Teddy protested, wanting more than anything to just spend a few more minutes with her brothers. They didn’t have to play with her, they didn’t even have to talk to her; she just wanted to be near them when they talked to each other. Now that they were back, that was more than enough.

She shot a pleading look at her brothers, focusing on Arthur, because he was usually the easiest to sway. But Tommy flashed her half a smile when he noticed what she was trying and said, “Listen to your aunt, Teddy. If she tells you it’s time for bed...”

He always was the strictest with her. But Teddy was feeling brave today, so a mischievous look came over her as she told Tommy, “But it’s not yet bedtime! I swear! You can check, Tommy.”

Tommy felt around in his pocket for his pocket watch, but at the end of the delicate chain, he found nothing. For a second, he frowned in confusion. Then he thought about who the best pickpocket in the family was and his eyes were fixed on Teddy once again.

“That little imp,” Arthur growled, following Tommy’s eyes, “She took your watch, didn’t she? I knew she was up to something, looking all bloody innocent back there...”

“Fucking rascal,” John laughed, face full of pride. After all, he’d been the one to teach Teddy how to pick pockets, much to Polly’s dismay.

But Tommy didn’t say a word. He looked at Teddy and she looked at him. Then he held up the empty chain, as if to ask: was it you? And Teddy held up the watch, as if to say: of course it was me, I’m the best thief in Small Heath!

For a second, Tommy lowered his head, and everyone in the kitchen wondered whether he was hiding an impending outburst of fury or a smile. Hard to tell at this point. Then he lifted his head, but his expression remained emotionless.

Tommy motioned with his hand for Teddy to approach him, but when she didn’t, he just couldn’t bring himself to be angry with her. Full of affection, he mumbled, “Little devil...” and then, “Fucking come here!”

Teddy smiled cheekily, recognising the mirth in her brother’s eyes at once, and challenged, “No! You can come here!”

Tommy cleared his throat and sighed, “You have three seconds. Three...”

But his little sister just stuck out her tongue at him.

“Right!” He slammed a hand down on his knee, and got up. Anyone else would’ve been terrified by now, but not Teddy Shelby. She started jumping up and down at the game they were playing and shouted out, “Catch me if you can!”

A big grin spread across Tommy’s face and all of a sudden, he was up and chasing Teddy. The two of them sprinted circles all across the house and betting den, which was now deserted after a long day of work. Then, and only then, would Tommy allow himself to drop the facade of the tough Birmingham gangster and play with his little sister.

“Run, Teddy!” John urged her on, when the two of them passed him by for the third time in a very short time period. He, too, had a big smile on his face and for a moment, it was like France had never happened.

Teddy ran as fast as her little legs could carry her. Tommy was quicker, but she was smaller, which meant she could sometimes crawl under tables that he had to go around. Heart racing and panting, she was enjoying every second of this.

Aunt Polly watched them from the bottom of the stairs. Giggles resounded all through the house and an occasional shout of glee from Tommy when he’d almost caught her. “Before France, he used to laugh, a lot.” They all had, and in a way, Teddy was their time capsule, their window into the past, their portal.

“Gotcha!” Tommy growled, as his sister shrieked in his arms. Limbs flying everywhere, he carried Teddy back into the kitchen and loudly demanded in a voice that would make the rest of Birmingham quiver in terror, “Now what did you do with my watch, eh?”

As he was pretending to search for the watch, he tickled Teddy everywhere. Hanging almost upside down in Tommy’s arms, Teddy squeaked, “No, Tom! It’s not there!”

“Oh, right,” Tommy frowned and he moved on and dug a hand into her side, “Maybe in here?”

“Noooo,” Teddy burst out laughing again and tried to protect herself, but it was no use in her brothers’ arms.

“Just tell me where then,” Tommy sighed and switched sides, “Here?”

“NOOOOHOOO,” Teddy protested, until she managed to produce the watch from her trouser pocket herself. She stuffed it into Tommy’s offending hands and he raised his eyebrows in mock innocence, “Should’ve just told me it was there, Teddy.”

Exhausted now after all the fun, Teddy let herself slump down in Tommy’s arms and he held her like she didn’t weigh a thing.

“Say goodnight, boys,” Tommy said when he noticed, “This troublemaker is going to sleep.”

“Quick, John,” Arthur joked, “Check your pockets first!”

And when everyone had wished her goodnight, Tommy carried Teddy up to bed. In the darkness, he couldn’t see, but he could feel her getting heavy in his arms. As gently as he could, he put her sleeping form down on her bed.

Then he securely attached the watch to its chain again and sat back, as a smile crept on his face again, while whispering with all the love he had, “Teddy Shelby, you little devil...”

*****

Masterlist

[saintsir4n]

MORE SHELBY’S

when eden meets michael grey

—

1921

“Oh Michael, this is your cousin-in-law, Eden.”

Polly proudly introduced her to her son, she clutched him tightly as he sheepishly fiddled with the cufflinks of his cheap suit. Eden waddled in with the help of Tommy, her bump was getting big and she was ready to give birth in days, everyone knew it.

Arthur and John snickered once they saw the astonishment on Michael’s face. Their young cousin knew that Tommy, the head of the family had a wife, but she didn’t know what she looked like, every time he asked his mum… Polly, she answered, like one of the few people to rein your wild cousins in. It was the understatement of his fucking life, and Eden was truly a stunner.

“I can’t be that big can I?” Eden asked, with a smile. “Tommy, you said I wasn’t that big.”

“You look beautiful alright,” Tommy rushed out, with a hand resting on her back.

“She’s carrying another Shelby in there Michael,” Arthur nodded to his sister-in-law.

John clasped his hands together, “Here’s praying it’s a fuckin’ boy.”

“There’s already too many of you lot,” Eden scoffed, then stepped forward, feeling Tommy’s eyes on her as she stood before Michael.

“It’s nice to meet you,” he nervously shook her hand, immediately thinking he maybe should’ve kissed her cheek or hugged her but, his cousin didn’t look like he would let her go. “Another Shelby?”

Before she could respond, Arthur did.

“Apart from John’s kin, Ada’s little one, you've got another cousin, little ankle biter,” he teased, earning a small smile from his cousin.

“Inara, spittin’ image of Eden but with Tommy’s eyes,” Polly informed her son, as Eden sat down with Tommy assisting.

Their six-year-old daughter was about to be seven, inquisitive and cheeky she was, whenever Inara would get grumpy she’d look like her father but whenever she was lively and joyful she was the very picture of her mum.

“Yeah, she’s a brat,” John’s words made the married couple snap their heads in his direction.

“Oi, you don’t want to compare children,” Tommy pointed out.

“Not with your roster Johnny,” Eden quipped, making the room chuckle.

John rolled his eyes, “Fuck off.”

Eden pointed at him, “You do not want to rile me up, It could induce labour you pillock and I’m not givin’ birth here.”

“Yeah, leave it John boy, you do not wanna see a kid come out of her,” Arthur said through his laughter.

Tommy playfully glared, “Stop talkin’ about my missus and my baby.”

Michael sat back, amused by the bickering. As first impressions go, he was pleasantly overwhelmed, the men were playing with their guns like toys before Tommy settled them. It was obvious Tommy ran things, he was the one who Michael first met. Tommy was confidant, powerful and very dangerous, that was clear, but his wife was something else. A beautiful woman, but to put up with this family, she had to have something up her sleeve.

“Where is Inara?” Michael asked, breaking the arguments flooding the room.

“She’s with my mum,” Eden spoke softly, stroking her bump.

“‘Nara threw a strop yesterday, sayin’ she didn’t want another sibling,” John stated.

Tommy huffed out a smile, “Well it’s too late for that.”

“She’s fuckin’ gettin’ one,” Eden agreed. “You’ll meet her soon Michael,” for the first time she looked at the boy, really looked at him, she saw his eyes, the detail swimming in his iris’, “My god you look so much like your mum.” She found herself choking back sobs, missing the joy on Polly’s face but catching the shock flashing across Michael’s. “Sorry, anythin’ and everythin’ gets the tears flowin’.”

John wasn’t shocked, “Cried over some flowers dyin’ didn’t you Edie?”

“Watch it,” Tommy warned, rubbing a hand over her back as she wiped her tears.

“Last week it was a candle blowin’ out.”

“And next time it’ll be a knife in your face,” Eden snapped, groaning at their laughter.

Michael was startled by the threat.

“There’s my girl,” Tommy pressed a kiss to her cheek before she pushed him away. “Pol, can you boil the kettle,” he noted the pot of tea was bare as were the cups.

Polly nodded, knowing how much Eden drank during her first pregnancy, her second was even worse.

Michael gulped, although no one apart from Tommy caught it. The teen lowered himself into a seat as his mother scolded his cousins for their poor habits, claiming she didn’t want him to mirror them.

“You should meet Isaiah, he’s around your age Michael,” Eden said, sending a look toward Tommy. “It’ll be good for you to make a friend.”

Michael nodded, listening to whatever advise he could take, eyes darting between Eden, trying not to get caught looking at her too much, and so he would look toward his cousin Tommy, who stroked her large bump and then his mum who returned with a cup and the steaming kettle fresh from the fire.

He occasionally heard the mumbles from his other two cousins — Finn and Ada, he hadn’t met yet — John and Arthur snickered off to the side, still stood up as if they were waiting to leave.

“… friends, what’s the point? They might end up like Eden and Grace,” Arthur whispered, quite harshly to his younger brother.

John’s mood soured at the mention, “That bloody barmaid.”

They knew not to mention Grace around Eden. Their sister-in-law fought she found a friend ever since Enzo and Martha passed and Dorris moved to London, but was a huge mistake. The Irish Woman’s betrayal caused the hole in Eden’s heart to grow as did her paranoia.

Tommy felt he should’ve protected her more, but he trusted Grace as a friend, especially since he didn’t have many female friends. But it costed him a bullet to the shoulder.

Even with Lizzie, Esme and Dorris from a far he was wary about everyone who surrounded the family, even if they were family.

Tommy was constantly thinking. Always.

“That won’t happen with Michael. Isaiah is loyal, you’ve seen him, Eden practically raised the boy,” John said quietly. “He’s Jimmy’s son.”

“I ain’t worried, we just have to be careful, not everyone’s a friend alright,” Arthur muttered, knowing that Isaiah wasn’t the one he didn’t trust.

“But family is family.”

The two broke apart to see Tommy right behind them. They didn’t even hear him move.

“Fuck, Tom,” John cursed, eyeing him.

“Keep your bloody trousers on,” Tommy scoffed, “you ready to go?”

“‘Course Tom,” Arthur nodded, shoving John forward, “you need to wear a fuckin’ bell on ya.”

“Yeah, alright.” Tommy smirked, then turned back to to the table, to see Eden sipping on some tea with a pensive look on her face. He pressed a kiss to her head as he stared at his Aunt, “Make sure he treats my Edie well, Pol.”

“Get going,” Eden playfully shoved Tommy away just as he gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“Don’t worry Michael, we’ll be back to show you, what’s what,” John grinned.

Polly gasped, “You’ll do no such thing!”

“Let’s leave ‘em boys,” Arthur said, “Wouldn’t wanna ruin the tea party.”

That had John snickering.

Michael smiled, watching as Tommy scanned Eden again.

The pregnant woman waved at him, “Bye, my love.”

“Darlin’, stay safe,” Tommy didn’t want to leave her for too long. “The both of you, alright.” He was pulled away by his brothers as he nodded at the mother-son duo, “Pol, Michael.”

When the door slammed shut behind them, Michael coyly smiled at his mum.

“They seem nice.”

Eden and Polly laughed.

The latter spoke, “They’re anythin’ but.”

Eden agreed, “But they’re your family, so got used to it.”

——

a/n:

I was thinking what if Eden met Michael before his corruption… so season 2.

[hazel-of-sodor]

Day 16-Too Late

Traintober 2023

Other Stories

Day 16-Purpose

Too Late

James was the one to find him. Thomas was hidden among the disused wagons behind Tidmouth. It didn't surprise James that none of the others had found him. Most tended to forget this part of the yard existed. James only knew because this was one of the spots he went to when everything became too much. As it had become for Caomhnóir.

The tank engine's fire had long gone out, his soot covering slowly washing away under the rain. Tear tracks covered his cheeks, but he was utterly unmoving. He had never looked so small to James as he did right then. Thomas had an energy that swelled past his frames, always moving, never still for longer than a second at a time. When he was upset it was easy to forget he wasn't as big as the main line engines. As Caomhnóir...there was a reason the likes of Flying Scotsman listened when he spoke. But right now? James just saw a little engine, bending under the weight placed on his frames.

James silently rolled to a stop in front of the tank engine, his crew walking away, leaving the two engines alone. For a long time, they remained in silence, James just letting him cry.

"I was too late." Caomhnóir finally whispered, his voice rough from crying. "She was already gone when we arrived."

James had no idea who he was talking about, but he could certainly guess at their fate.

"You can't save everyone." He reminded gently.

Caomhnóir's laugh was bitter and broken, "Everyone? Right now I'm failing to save anyone."

Well, that was enough of that.

"So you did dump that goods train on me last week for no reason."

Thomas looked up, confused, "No, I was..."

"And you had Henry sabotage the kipper the week before that for nothing."

"Of course not! I..."

"And Gordon derailed at Barrow completely by accident last month."

Thomas fell silent.

James raised an eyebrow, "Well? Did you or did you not need cover for engines sneaking in three times in a month?"

Thomas sighed, "I did...but it was not enough."

"No its not..and it never will be." James sighed, allowing his own grief to slip through. "But we can either accept that and help you save who we can, or let them take our kin unopposed."

"There's just so many." Caomhnóir sounded lost. "When I realized she was gone I grabbed who I could but..."

He was quiet for a long moment, " I moved as fast as I could but...." He looked helplessly up at James, "How do I tell Gordon Pretty Polly''s gone."

Oh. Well, that explained it.

"You don't," James said. "I will."

Thomas looked up to protest but James pressed their buffers together. "You have enough on your frames without this."

Thomas shook, "she wasn't supposed to be withdrawn yet. We had a plan, but suddenly they withdrew her, and by the time I got there..."

James took a deep breathe to steady himself, "it's still not your fault." He pushed on before the little engine could protest. "By all accounts, you made a sudden mad dash across the entire country undetected to try to save her. If you failed, then it was because there was no way to succeed, not because you failed in any way."

"I ran out of coal on the way back." Thomas admitted, "The midnight goods had to sneak me in."

Well, that explained why his fire was out.

"That only proves you did everything you could."

***

11 years later.

Thomas was resting at Tidmouth when he heard Gordon's whistle, joined by his siblings. He opened his eyes, expecting to see Gordon, Northern, and Scotsman.

Instead, a fourth engine was in front of him, the three expected Gresley's smirking on either side of her.

She, somehow was an A3 Pacific in BR Express Passenger Blue with the number 60061 on her buffer beam.

"I never got to thank you for trying to save me."

"POLLY?!?!?"

[smallgodseries]

[image description: This classic stone Moai figure smokes his huge stone pipe. But we also see – in cross-sectional view of the strata below – that he is buried up to his chest. The sky is a cheery sky blue, and the stata are quite soil-colored. Text reads, “40, Big Daddy Moai, The Small God of Hidden Depths”]

Humans are limited when compared to gods.

Humans are also infinite, since gods are—for the most part—bound to their domains.  Oromo can no more consume the coffee they stop to smell than Polly Chrome can shave her head and embrace her natural hair color, whatever that might be.  There will always be a few, like Yucan Tu, who find the strength to subvert their original conception and become something new, but they are rare, and the effort is greater for them than it would be for their human kin.  To change is difficult, for a god.

Humans are superficial when compared to gods.

They stop at the surface, all too often, deciding a person can only be what can be seen, and that anything buried or hidden from view simply doesn’t matter. Monsters and miracles both go overlooked because they’re considered too difficult to see, requiring effort to uncover beyond a simple glance.

The gods often pity us for all we overlook, all we fail to see.  In their divinity, they understand that the world is bigger and richer than we can ascertain with simple senses; they know the roots of everything run deep and true, all the way down to the heart of everything.  And the keeper of this knowledge, the one responsible for the deep records, the hidden histories, is Big Daddy Moai, who understands all.

His understanding is such that he rarely stirs himself to move among the mortals; all they have and all they know will come to him in time, and all he needs to do is wait.  In his infinity, this is no true task, but one more fine gift from a cosmos rich with them.

He will come to know you as well, in your time.  We belong to many gods in life and many gods in death, but in the end, we all come home to him.