#Peaky Blinders X-Men AU

[sunboki]

— THE ALCHEMIST. a Lee Minho fiction

Lee Minho x f. reader

TROPE. historical! au, set in 1940’s Korea, alchemist! au, friends to lovers, fluff, angst

WARNINGS. abusive behavior toward women, impoverished communities, overall sexist beliefs of the time, reader dresses as a man, mentions of death & disease, smoking (not reader or minho), war conflict, making out??

WORD COUNT. 9.6k words

AUG'S NOTES. although it was a bit out of the blue, i had such a great time writing and shaping this universe, thank you to all the love and support thus far<3 also, huge thanks to @comet-falls for instilling the peaky blinders/historical! minho vision in my head with how incredible tooth and claw was, i truly owe it to you :)

SYNOPSIS. Cities stricken with poverty, the lack of male presence in your home while surviving in a male-dominated society leaves meager food on the table and a piling debt. Left no choice but to make a risky decision, you decide that, if biology wanted to fail you, you’d simply try another approach.

alternatively :

In which deception introduces you into an entirely new reality, and The Alchemist.

It’s one thing surviving with the knowledge you can change something, whatever it may be that’s wrong. 

It’s another when that problem isn’t merely changeable, but biological. 

Your problem? You’re a woman. 

Not as easy to fix, right?

.

.

.

With your father lost in the war, fruitlessly straining to support a family of girls, the household is left helpless.

Representation is nonexistent, and merely walking outside frets harassment and laughter struck in your face at the mention of working. 

A woman, working? Hilarious. 

Or, apparently to the men in pubs it certainly is.

Some things you can’t change, yes, but there are always alternatives. And as for now, you’re helplessly searching high and low for that alternative, whatever it may be. 

Selling yourself is possible, though the inability to remain connected to your family eliminates that option. 

When you get so desperate, there’s no incentive in guarding your pride. Because being called derogatory names isn’t as bad as losing them, the people you call home.

October welcomes little warmth, biting your fingertips and sending a tremor of chills cascading down your spine. Minimal sunlight peers through dense clouds, shrouding the atmosphere in a depressing haze. 

You’re on your way to the apothecary, but not to purchase anything. The pennies in your pocket won’t amount to anything in the face of medicinal prices, which happens to be one of your many alternatives. 

Since day one, you’ve had a rock to rely on.

Medicine. 

Lack of money meant improper living conditions, entailing sickness. 

Constantly.

Whether it was your mother, your younger sister, yourself, an infection of some sort occupied your respiratory system, wreaking havoc for wallets and mental health altogether. 

Purchasing necessary medication became impossible the further you drowned in your debt, to the point drastic measures needed to be taken in order to prevent death from infesting itself in the household as well.

Then came the question. If you couldn’t purchase the medicine itself, why not collect the ingredients?

Alternatives.

Behind the apothecary you discovered mint hedges that, if mixed with wormwood and balm, could aid in curing Sun-ja’s current sickness, colic. 

Although, you’d have to be swift in your efforts, ensuring the shop owner didn’t notice your presence.

Too many times had you nearly been caught, risking a good beating from the red-haired, burly man regarded as Mr. Myeong.

Fiery red hair complimented an equally unruly personality you aimed not to cross by. Ever.

Yet, unlike Mr. Myeong, his wife was the polar opposite, an ideal magnet. She was petite and soft-spoken, but out of her appealing traits, you found her resilience to be most attractive.

Mrs. Myeong is stubborn. She’s strong in what she believes, sporting an unquestionably vocal opinion that can’t be quenched.

The woman is, likely, the only woman capable of sealing her husband’s mouth shut.  

Hidden between thorn ridden weeds sits your desired leaves, abundant in supply.

You clutch your satchel closer, plucking as quickly as possible whilst crouched to the ground, maneuvering through tickling grasses and itchy reeds. 

Your mission remains successful, until the wretched sound of a doorknob rips your head upward, the red-haired man in question standing nonplussed, arms crossed. 

He wears a cocked brow, examining what you’re desperately trying to veil away.

Your heart leaps into your throat.

“Stealing, are we?” Black boot clad frame thumping closer, you immediately prepare to run, hair standing on end like an agitated feline.

Instead, his huge hand swoops down to grab your collar, other evidently ready to land a harsh slap to your face.

Instinctively cringing, you brace for the stinging impact.

That is, before a saccharine, lullaby-worthy voice rings from the cracked doorway, belonging to none other than Mrs. Myeong.

“Honey! Have you seen the new envelope that came in?” 

Heels clicking whilst padding over cobblestone to where you two stand, her husband fixates you with a stern, threatening glare. 

Finally dropping your frame to the ground, you slump forward, pulse pounding loud enough you fear your chest may implode. 

Mrs. Myeong, though wearing a taut expression, ushers him off, delivering a curt nod your way, intentional brows furrowed in place. 

‘Thank you’ You wish to say, but hold your tongue, watching them disappear inside.

Another time.

Walking home was rather uneventful (much to your delight), left to enjoy the crisp, cool air sifting through your lungs in steady rhythm, the lazy billows of cigar smoke dwindling from gaping doorways.

Calm. 

Nothing calm ever lasts long.

Stashing the house key back into your decrepit leather draw bag, your footsteps still upon entering, struck terror-filled.

Your mother, strawn across the floor, hacks amongst her rampant coughs, body convulsing in desperate shivers, skin drenched a ghastly blue.

Sprinting to her side, you kneel down, rolling the woman over to find her face utterly battered, new black eye beginning to swell, cheek bruised a mawkish purple against hollowed cheekbones. 

Sharks.

To your left Sun-ja hides in the corner, rags for a blanket pulled to her chest, shielded between the wall and a tipped cabinet. 

Over and over they’ve begun visiting, to the point your mother became recognizable by her continuous black eye, her torn clothing and stooped posture. 

Exhausted, she was exhausted. 

Yet, she took the beatings. The torturous punches. Jarring slaps, traumatic insults, tarnishing. Your mother took it so you wouldn’t, so you and Sun-ja could live.

And it’s at that moment you make up your mind, discover this occasion’s alternative. 

“Cut it off.” 

“Cut.. Cut it off?” Hyunjin gapes, fingers stalling their descent down a strand of your hair. 

You smile, grimacing the longer consideration poises.

No point in thinking too much.

“Yep. Give me the most boy-ish haircut you can.” You emphasize, gesturing toward his scissors expectantly. 

Hyunjin, your personally appointed hairstylist, doesn’t seem too convinced. He’s debating, expertly reading your features.

Currently, you’re holed up in his room, a miniature apartment located near the furthest section of town, close to the coast.

In wee hours of morning you boarded the train here, inhaling salty, ocean-smelling breeze. Back in your old residence you met him, your neighbor Hwang Hyunjin. It’s a miracle you still stayed in contact, bond aging like the finest of wines over countless years. 

Enough to where you trusted him to help you enact this alternative of yours. 

Starting with a haircut.

The man stares at you through the mirror, dark, inky hair matting the longer he runs his hands through it. 

Thoughtfully trying to figure out your reasoning, he evidently catches on the moment you witness his eyes roll, releasing a heaving sigh.

“You cannot be serious.”

A torrential truth keeps you from responding, gaze directed at your feet. 

“Y/n,” He uttered, eyes filling with a concern you avoid meeting, avoid regarding in a whole. “You don’t have to do this, the war is going to end soon and your father will come ba—“

“He’s dead.”

Silence engulfs the room.

Collecting yourself, you scorn his frown.

“He’s dead and gone. Now I need to protect them, provide for them.“ 

You deny the shakiness of your voice.

“So, Hyunjin. Cut off my hair.”

Accordingly, he does without another word. Snip by snip, tress by tress falling below, scattering the tile floor in endless strands.

By the time you see yourself, it’s hard to recognize the person in the reflection. Never had you considered your hair a viable source of identity, but now that it’s so sparse, the effect is eminent. 

Failing to see yourself in your own reflection beckons a different kind of sadness. For the person you’ve introduced yourself as reigns no more. She’s been replaced.

Hyunjin pulls you into his arms, embrace just as comforting as you remembered. His hand reaches to caress your cropped hair, rocking back and forth on his heels, chin resting on your head. 

“Be careful, okay?”

Nodding into his shoulder, you wipe salty streaks from your cheeks. 

Hurts.

“And if you need a place to take shelter, I’ll be here.”

Steadying in his hug again, you pull back, cherishing his kindness with a chaste kiss to the cheek. 

“Thank you, really.”

Shaking his head at your gratitude, urging you out and lingering by the doorway till your figure retreats in the distance.

Next stop, Mrs. Myeong. 

If anyone has any idea how to source the clothing you’re needing, your best chance would be thanks to her. 

An hour later you arrive in familiar avenues, creeping out of sight into the apothecary in hopes the woman you’re looking for is working the counter. 

Much to your pleasure, after a few unsuccessful attempts do you grasp her attention, edging forward under the guise of a regular hoping to converse. 

“I need your help.”

Initially, she carries that sternness, wordlessly lifting your hooded head a bit to notice the latest adjustment. Shock written over her face, Mrs. Myeong drags you along with her, closing the door to a back room.   

“My child, what is going on?” She whispers, tone urgent. You can’t help but feel fond of the affectionate nickname.

“I need male clothing and,” You hesitate, teeth nipping at your bottom lip. “something to bind my chest with.”

Similar to Hyunjin, she steps back, assessing the situation at hand. Spending a brief few seconds roaming your figure, the woman works hastily toward fetching a petticoat, meticulously fitting each article atop your stock-still frame.

“You’re conceited,” she grumbles. “And foolish.” Carefully peeling off your upper-wear, she’s managed to cut a piece of thick cloth to use as a make-shift binder, assembling the fabric over your breast. 

The experience, although strange, wasn’t as painful as anticipated.

“But be careful, and stay in contact.”

Your response is hushed.

“Breathe in,” The older woman instructs, securing her creation with a threaded pin before moving onto other aspects, like a proper coat and pants. 

Mr. Myeong’s trousers, though having to be sewn to fit, make do, and you’re reminded to return tomorrow for shoes. Otherwise, the attire is completed, paired with a curved hat to finish. 

Sure, the entire male concept is foreign, but given time, you’ll gradually acclimate.

Oh, right. 

Your alternative?

Since medicine is what you know, you’ll stick with that. Difference being medicine is a men’s occupation, and so, if you can’t be a female working in the field, why not become male? 

Well, somewhat become male.

It’s a risky wager, easily placing your life on the line in the process. 

For your mother and Sun-ja, however, it’s your turn to take the beating. Your turn to endure.

Observation is a virtue. It can save and preserve, heed to oncoming danger, and simultaneously (and discreetly) supply useful information.

Today, seated on a bench in Daegu Station, your first observation is the abundance of people scurrying like mice.

Some tall, some short. Distinct moles, eyes. Upturned and downturned lips. Mustaches, beards. Much to see.

Your legs cross and uncross, Mr. Myeong’s oversized heeled shoes beginning to sink at your ankles. Hat strung low enough to peer out without attracting attention, your gaze is magnetically drawn to a magazine held on the adjacent side of the train tracks, title on display.   

Prized Alchemist Lee Minho suspected of being the lone survivor of the Red Plagu—

Ignorant to your surroundings, your senses posed numb to the incoming train, blocking off the last few words of the title from view the moment it soars past—nearly sweeping the fedora off your head. 

By the time the last few train cars passed, the man honing said magazine had disappeared, and you were left wondering if the experience was merely a figment of your imagination.  

Although, you did have one lead. A name.

Lee Minho. 

Where you’d find him remained unknown, deciding to rely on a magazine parlor first and foremost for more intel.  

To no surprise, nearly every magazine rack lay lined with haughty opinions regarding the war and its evident cruelty.

Many onlookers of both Americans, Koreans, and foreigners alike chatter amongst themselves about their own take between gossiping hands and fumes of tobacco.

In this town, located far off in the business district by a ship port, people are everywhere.

Wives of sailors, families of soldiers off at war. Women honing gleaning parasols and ivory gloves reaching to their elbows.

Languages you’ve never heard before utter their enunciated syllables, vocabulary petulant with accent—all shrouded in dismay.   

Roaming the store endlessly to no avail, you prepare to adventure back through dusty streets and battered wooden stall-shops before a peculiar name pauses your footsteps. 

His name, The Alchemist, Lee Minho.

“Bring ‘em home I tell ‘ya,” An aged man by the deepened grooves of his face, hollow cheekbones and bunched wrinkles grumbles.

A fat cigar hangs loosely from thin lips, pale baker boy cap adorning a bald head. 

Some sentences estranged, you identify his sentences as French, heavy in dialect, throaty and broad.

And although your fluency stay patchy, exposure from French immigrants who’ve relocated near home allow minimal understanding as to what they’re talking about.

“Say, did you hear that Lee Minho chap was a Red Plague?” His counterpart offered past his own leering cigar, foot tapping incessantly.

The other hacks his bewilderment, feeble fist pounding on an equally feeble chest.

“The Alchemist?” 

The man’s astonishment returned with a nod, you lean closer, pretending to be consumed in an article. 

“Said he was only nineteen when it happened. Shipped ‘em off only for disease to kill them all. One survived, now people are speculatin’ it’s him.”

Either of them sigh out long drags.

“Well I’ll be damned.” Is all the other huffs in disbelief, and upon recognizing the conversation approaching an end, you stir to action, willing your voice to deepen an octave.

Attempting to appeal in your broken French, you stall the two, cautiously claiming you’re in need of his whereabouts for an esteemed business transaction to which, through confused stares, you’re given loose directions.

Loose, but feasible.

80 Kent Avenue, dark blue doors.

Directions that, according to the sudden blank of streetlights, would have to wait until tomorrow. As for now, the world beckoned you to rest, and any progress would prove futile and rather impossible in the dark.

Luckily, a run-down Inn gifted good few hours of shut-eye before dawn peered through the windowsills and you were begrudgingly forced to your feet. 

Fitting the binder snug across your body and fastening your trench coat through minuscule belt loops, you’re taught with much haste the stark difference of men’s prestige entitlement. 

First access to everything, the ability to have their way with a woman whether she willingly obliges or not, and just about ten billion other things someone of your hidden status couldn’t fathom.

A man’s world is a world only possible through disguise. Yours just happens to be a last resort.

Charming the mistress at the front desk was unexpectedly effortless, not to mention how easily she spilled the details as to where Kent Avenue would be located.

Another noticeable attribute of your new appearance, no one asked as to where you were going nor your intentions, they merely dipped their heads and wished you off.

Adjustments.

Adjustments that, if you’d been born different, would be normal.

Kent Avenue lay twisted in shadows. The surrounding area brims in barely flickering labels and creaking doorways leading to who knows where. Quaint isn’t the word for it. More ancient, all-knowing. 

This place has been here for centuries with many stories to tell, most just haven’t heard them yet.

Significantly dark blue doors make the Alchemist’s residence easily noticeable, starkly contrasting with wooded architecture. Massive doorknobs engraved with lions, windows shielded by moth-eaten curtains. Grand, in its own form.

You swore each door stood eight feet tall, the left in particular left slightly ajar.

Wait, ajar?

Doing a double take to ensure your vision wasn’t playing tricks on you, you inch forward, widening the dark gap exponentially until all you faced was a black abyss—apart from the miniature lamp beaming yellow light in a far corner.

Carefully tiptoeing into said black abyss, the further you explore, the greater the visibility increases. Leather cushioned furniture, clean, polished desks. The desk the lone lamp rests upon is a chestnut wooden, ink feathers residing in the upper corner.

Somehow, the matter grants envy, resentment grating your nerves. This man lives comfortably while other’s are beaten for possessing nothing. Maybe it’s a petty, unnecessary thought; and maybe you’re foolish, but all odds are against you, your disposition seems righteous.

Getting too lost in your head turned out foolish as well.

“What’s this?” A voice behind you whispers, voice ghosting chills tickling your neck at an alarming pace. 

Whipping around, eyes struck wide in shock, the person responsible for the remark comes into view, his stature opposing the tone muttered in your ear seconds ago.     

Not a plump business man like you imagined, not adorning a spectacle, no pipe in sight. Instead, one lone button right below the chest fits snug white sleeves cuffed by his elbows, black vest hugging a slim torso.

Conniving, cat-like eyes analyze your expressions while dark brown hair parts to the side, loose strands covering his right eyebrow. And when he reaches up to brush a few frayed tresses to the side you note sleek gloves covering long, pale fingers. 

If anything, this man is more similar to a Vampire.

“Trespassing, are we?”

Collect yourself. This is your opportunity.

Swiftly brushing off your clothes, you clear your throat.

“I have an offer.”

“An offer?” A smile belonging to that of a Cheshire cat adorns his lips, one leg propping itself over the other, fingers intertwining in front of him.

Ensuring your voice is clear and concise (while keeping the deeper, male-ish tone), you state your claim, despising how utterly debilitating it feels being caught under his observative stare. 

Like he sees through you.

“I would be a valuable asset to your studies in alchemy. I know about herbs and their uses better than anyone else, and where they’re located.”

Sure, the bargain might’ve sounded arrogant, but you were technically cosplaying as a man when most men of your time couldn’t shut up about themselves, arrogance was the least of your problems. 

Gnawing at his cheek as you spoke, he pauses a moment, then laughs.

Amused. 

Dark lashes dust above equally dark eyes, nearly black as they study you.

“You want to be my apprentice? Is that it?”

You remain close-lipped.

“I’ll tell you one thing, kid. This world is all about money,” He raises a cane from where he reclined, using the end to tip your chin up and meet his eyes. 

“No?” 

To which you simply stare back at him, refusing to avert eye-contact. 

“I’m sure that’s what you’re here for anyways.” Rising from his place, he sighs heartily. “But see, I’m a greedy man, not a good man.” 

Abruptly, his countenance falls flat. 

“And my job isn’t fun, so you’re out of luck.” 

Immediately, you’re frantic, trying your hardest to ignore his obvious statement to leave. The last thing you need is to run out of luck, run out of options.

And so, you hastily wrack your mind for a solution, an excuse, whatever keeps you in this dimly lit room.

“You- You were part of the Red Plague, weren’t you?” Spitting out words from the depths of your racing mind, The Alchemist stops, fixing you with an unreadable look.

Red Plague as in, the group of young men enlisted during the war that all died of a deadly disease but one. One who, many speculate is the man before you.

Breathe in.

“I may not know much about you, but I know what it’s like to want to save somebody.”

Breathe out.

Now it was his turn to stand there, and for a second you swore you saw a flash of sympathy cross his face.

You wet your lips. “I’ll run your errands and wash your clothing, I’ll clean this place spotless. Plus, it’s not like I’m a woman asking for a job, so please, give me a chance.” 

Slowly, The Alchemist raises a brow, laugh disbelieving.

“Since when did being a woman have anything to do with this?” 

Huh?

How.. odd.

If anything, the majority would wholeheartedly agree, likely hiring you on the spot with how impalpable such a jest seemed.

He would’ve laughed, maybe slapped your back. Would’ve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, proclaimed you his friend.

Yet, you almost feel flattered. Flattered in a strange, unrealistic manner. 

Basking in a deplorable quietness, The Alchemist sighs, combing a gloved hand through silken strands. 

“I have a spare room around that corner.” He points, leather gloves narrowly highlighted by orange lighting.  “Make yourself useful, hm?”

And like that, even if it was a long shot, you landed it. More specifically, landed a job. 

How preposterous. 

How exciting. 

Yet, it began hesitantly. As if he was initially testing your usefulness. Sending you on runs to the nearby gardens, having you make sure a concoction didn’t derange itself while he fetched better flasks. Easy things.

However, you didn’t complain. A boring job was better than no job, and as long as a few coins were emptied into your pocket afterward, you’d continue to work without whining.  

Burdock, oregano. Motherwort that would erupt billows of chemically-infused air when added to oils or sugars.  

Then you noticed The Alchemist. His quirks, his  characteristics. 

He shifts between a long trench coat or tight vests, his hair is always styled a certain way, though some days, when he just wakes up, he has this tiny bird nest of hair atop his head, it’s charming. 

He yawns a lot. 

He wears heeled shoes, maybe from his shorter height, maybe preference. 

And rather peculiarly, the longer you stay in his lair, the greater you notice the many scars littering his forearms, collarbones. Miniature cuts and imprints left on porcelain skin. 

Those observations, conjoined with his reactions, make for a truly interesting character. 

Reactions being his dislike toward loud noises, the matter in which his shoulders scrunch at a loud clap outside, eyes blown wide, fearful. 

The longer you stay in his lair, the more you notice him, nonetheless his fears. Whether suspicion clarifies anything in specific, there’s no denying he’s a man of war. 

Lee Minho has secrets, and as badly as your nosiness itches to uncover them, you, as you had promised earlier, will keep your lips sealed. 

And it makes you wonder, what’s life like on your side of the street? What throng of unfairness left you awash, left you both suffering? 

You wonder about your oppositions and similarities in different points of each other’s lives. Minutes, decades before you ever met.

Certain stones shall stay unturned, but you hope, maybe one day, those questions will be answered.  

Interestingly enough, he never asked about your name; not even when you gingerly introduced yourself as your last name, a rather awkward fit.

Likewise, you don’t complain. There’s only two of you in the house after all.

A week in, you’re finally introduced to something new. 

The Alchemist plans to have you tag along with him to Port Nova, a docking station located on the outskirts of Busan.

Business thrives in ship ports, the sole source of connectivity for a growing country like Korea. Each day, millions of shipments come in from countries you can’t name, so you’re not surprised in the slightest he’s headed there for a transaction. 

You are surprised he decided to have you tag along.

Even more so that, as you hop off the transit, hurriedly tailing his left, he veers off a sharp turn, approaching a worn Burlesque Club, glittering sign halfway dangling from its perch on a scarlet red awning. 

English letters spell out Nova Burlesque, a few missing letters left astray to the side, electrical bulbs spasming with sporadic lighting on the dusty ground below.

In the daylight, the place appears ordinary, blending in with its crumbling, desolate surroundings. 

Although, you have no doubt this place utterly delights in the eve, pink-neon inviting enough to lure unaware foreigners upon first arrival. 

“Mr. Lee,” You utter, returned with a short scoff from the man who insisted you refer to him by his name, Minho. 

“Where are we going?”

It’s hesitant, unsure of whether to intervene, but Minho only smirks, whispering a not-very-assuring “You’ll see” you begrudgingly go along with. 

Inside is the last of what you anticipated. 

Oh dear.

You’ve only been to minimal Burlesque Clubs, but the ornery perspective of faux jewelry, a glittery, hallucinatory stage, and the constant rendition of Why Don’t You Do Right whirling on scratchy records isn’t present here. 

Alternatively, there’s stools scattered around a marginally illuminated clearing, some upturned, others occupied by burly men with equally burly beards. 

And in the middle, a boxing ring is situated. The stench of sweat and blood soaks the air in a metallic, pungent aroma.

A brisk realization crosses your mind, a conclusion of a sort.

Play a fool’s game, earn a fool’s reward.

Only you, Hyunjin, and Ms. Myeong know the lengths you’re willing to go to secure your family's well-being, and now, at odds you can’t compromise, you have to do everything in your power to maintain your act.

This is a test.

Sifting behind you, he murmurs a hushed: “Cover your ears.” That you begrudgingly oblige to, cupping either hand over your ears as Minho clutches his leather holster, concealed within the confines of a frequently worn coat.

In a split second, a gunshot is fired to the ceiling, the bullet's shell casing dropping atop the welt of his pointed shoe.

Stunned silence ensues.

Arm still extending the revolver in the air, you haphazardly remove your hands, dragging the hat further over your face as more eyes focus on the both of you. 

“I’m looking for Reiner and Manfred.”

The longer the tension rises, the further you grow self conscious.

“Already?” A man bellows from inside the ring, breaking the awestruck spell whilst gripping his opponent by the collar, fist poised and ready to strike. 

Unusually, they seem to know each other.

Minho merely exhales a loud sigh through his nose, practically two times smaller than his apparent acquaintance. 

Said acquaintances grumbles. 

“Leave it to our champion to interrupt the show.” 

And with that, he hooks the contender in the jaw, sending him pummeling down to the tarnished mat where hoards either cheer or groan, hustling money left and right over the victor.

Champion of the show? You’re adding that to your collection of never ending questions that’ll likely stay unanswered.

From the crowd arises two men. The victor from the ring and another from the crowd, dressed lavishly opposed to his white tank top-wearing counterpart. 

Reiner and Manfred, you assume. 

Serving as a mere shadow in The Alchemist’s wake, the four of you hustle outside, met with a nonplussed Minho and two, mildly confused (and enormously tall) men. 

Foreigners, certainly.

“..Care to introduce the pipsqueak?” Reiner presumably more talkative, piques, beady eyes scouring your figure enough to where you scorn the beads of sweat collecting upon your temple. 

Pipsqueak my foot. 

You stave down the retort, inhabiting Minho’s shadow as the three discuss matters of a hospital transaction. Almost like you weren’t there at all, as it’s always been.

If it weren’t for the technicalities, you would’ve interjected, made your presence known. Except, other than herbal instances, you’re a novice in the business department. You’ll leave that up to your current mentor to arrange.

Again, lips sealed.

Minho, ignorant to the previous victor’s question, continues to sign legal documents supplied by the calmer individual, Manfred. You internally thank the gesture.

Well, before Reiner’s sordid gaze becomes too stifling to brush off.

“I’m Mr. Lee’s apprentice, L/N. Nice to meet you,” You initiate, fearlessly reaching out a hand he heartily shakes, features graced with amusement, massive hand practically engulfing yours. 

Pardoning a gruff “Likewise”, he nearly sends you flying from the timbre of his voice alone.

“Say,” Reiner mutters, finally completing the last of the package transfers. “Don’t you think this one seems a bit feminine?”

Your jaw ticks, nervousness shrouding your being like an unrelenting fog. Minho’s fingers close around your elbow, pulling you closer, brows knit.

“Perhaps you need your eyes checked, Reiner,” He offers, tone nonchalant opposed to the vice-like grip latched to your arm.

Heftily chortling, the man only pats your back, causing your entire body to surge forward upon impact.

“Well regardless, it’s a cute little thing ain’t it?”

Manfred simply grunts his acknowledgment while you bite your tongue, coveting your retaliation when he referred to you as “it”.

No use growing angered. The feeling is futile.

Luckily, your irritable arrangement comes to a hasty close, more than gleeful to have an understandably annoyed Minho steer you from Port Nova onto a short train back to Kent Avenue, to your newly established home.

A home, but not really a home. Semi-permanent, unofficial.

Either way, you wouldn’t complain. Despite the constant efforts in diminishing your past identity, you didn’t feel as conscious when around Minho. 

Safer.

As if, in an alternative reality, you could tell him. Your truths, your burdens.

No. You won’t jeopardize this opportunity. You can’t.

At least, not yet.

“I’ll be back Mr. Lee!” You shout, wielding a briefcase bag to your person, nudging the ghoulish door open using your hip.

As usual, you’re headed off on a restocking trip.

Except on this occasion, the restocking consists of hunting down a peculiar herb: Chinese Chrysanthemum. It’s an appealing plant with fluorescent leaves and a constant need for sunlight. 

It’s no surprise he’s sent you to fetch such goods. After two months, you soared in and out of the residence routinely, scouring Korea while Minho hunched over a wildly diverse array of vials and flasks, glasses propped on his slightly hooked nose, hands firmly resting on a wooden exam table.

Studious. He is very studious. 

However, a catch diverts itself from eye view. A catch you hadn’t considered until your two feet stepped from squealing train tracks.

Somehow, although unusually intentional, you wound up in a rather peculiar area. An area you never imagined paying a visit to in your wildest dreams.

In the midst of economic outrage and warring circumstances, you’re standing in one of Korea’s most unstable, informal districts. A place that, according to your overhearing ear, was where your precious Chrysanthemum lodged.

This district had an infamous name. 

The Den.

A fitting name in actuality, where a person didn’t realize they were stuck till it was too late, unable to see where they’re going, living in belief there’s an incentive to the finish line in a race run in circles. 

Also, a place the Sharks who torment your family report to.

You can hear your heart thrumming in your ears, nearly ricocheting out of your chest with its horrid cacophony. 

Calm down. 

Calm down. Think of the goal. 

All you have to do is find a flower. 

Grounding yourself, you pinpoint some viable resources. 

Fertile soil, maybe even sandy, likely in the inner portion of The Den.

Plus, you’re dressed as a man, you might as well act outrageously boisterous.

But you’re not, you’re afraid. Perhaps not external, but inside, your lungs feel as if they’re being violently crushed, sinking deeper in an unsteady submersible to the very bottom of the ocean. And for a second, you truly contemplate going back, telling Minho you’re incapable of the task.

Yet, what would you say? You’re haunted by a vision that hasn’t happened? Fearful for a future event with no guarantee? If you had ever done something so horrid, they would’ve found you ages ago.

This time, you’re in their domain, invading what’s theirs as they’ve done to you. 

Greater. You aren’t who you used to be, in more ways than one.

Genuinely, what is there to lose?

That’s it. You’ll complete the mission and return. No run-ins, no fear barricading your job.

In and out.

Initially, you scout out your surroundings, regarding the faint sound of voices funneling in the distance, the smell of mixtures you hate being able to identify, far off machinery croaking before smoke spurs from rusted screws and bolts.

Amongst the chatter of street vendors and the many, notorious gang members patrolling in and out of abandoned shops, you roam avidly, keeping as low a profile as possible.

Number one priority is to not be noticed. Drawing attention to yourself is a one way ticket to failure, and the last thing you need is to arrive back to Minho empty-handed.

However, through the blinding clouds of smoke billowing from exhaust pipes, a specific building, shrouded in the shadows of charcoal residue, douses your peripheral.

A Greenhouse. 

Bingo.

Quickly looking around, you shrink low to the ground, racing forward to carefully creak open glass double doors and slip inside. 

It feels as if you’re enclosed in a furnace. Mere seconds in and sweat already begins gathering upon your temples.

Though that becomes the least of your concerns after assessing what lies inside. 

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of flowers and herbs. Rare species, some critically endangered, just sitting here.

It’s strange. 

Why would, in the case such an abundance existed, not be used? Why hadn’t this Greenhouse been raptured from the inside out for such valuable items? 

It’s not until a commotion stirs ahead of you that you understand the answer to the question. 

With about five plucked Chinese Chrysanthemums expertly sealed into their coordinating bags, a piercing hiss followed by multiple shouts and hollers cause you to shrink back, gazing around haphazardly.

A hiss?

From your perspective nearly kissing the dirt, your vision allows a minuscule glimpse of multiple backs turned, boisterously amused men gathering around something in the front of the Greenhouse.

You feel the need to know more.

Inching forward tip-toe by tip-toe, amidst the roaring crowd, you spare a look between the sea of legs to find an utterly deplorable sight.

A cat. 

No, not just a cat, cat fighting. They’re watching cats maul each other for the fun of it. As if they aren’t living creatures, but toys for their entertainment. 

And perhaps it’s a foolish decision, perhaps laughable being worried, being angered, but you are and you refuse to leave knowing you could’ve done something to help them.

Hastily scouring the floors, a can of Spam discarded below Foxglove stems proves useful enough, tossing it as far as possible where it whacks against the glass wall, immediately averting their attention. 

This is your chance. 

As dark clouds and incoming rain thunder outside, you don’t waste the opportunity, sprinting forward while the men make toward the direction of the sound and hoisting the first cat you see into your arms. 

Sprinting past narrow pathways and dimly lit streets, you force your eardrums numb to the threats they call after you, mind trained on one thing besides getting as far as possible from here.

To Minho to Minho to Minho.

A hand grabbing your shoulder causes you to shriek, swiftly dragged off where you swear your last breaths will be taken, the feline in your arms scrambling with panic.

“What are you doing?” Your captor furiously whispers, hidden in the low lighting of an apparent alleyway.

Wait. You recognize that voice. 

“Hyunjin?”

How does he recognize you?

Just then does a breeze swipe past your head, sending chills trickling down your rain-soaked neck. 

Your hat is gone. Must’ve fell off while you were running. 

“Wh.. what are you doing?” Slipping from his grasp after the men’s hushed conversation becomes inaudible, you regard the man with an incredulous stare.

“Answer my question first,” He reprimands, and as the cat resounds a pained meow do you assess the dire nature of the situation.

You need to get this cat to Minho, and fast. 

“Can’t- Can’t talk right now I’ve got to go—“

“Wait!”

Though, as your footsteps breach the security of the alley, the placating cry of crows mock your left, hurried footsteps belonging to those occupying the Greenhouse heading toward you in rampant haste.

Hyunjin’s hand holding your wrist, you grace a tight-lipped smile his way. 

 “Let’s not see each other like this again, okay?”

He returns a miniature grin, teeming with mischief.

“Agreed.”

Upon letting go, you race off, attempting to speedily navigate back to the train station whilst torrents of streaming droplets cascade down your face. 

“Good luck!” 

“Thanks, I’ll need it!” You respond back, voice permeated against the rain, eyes frantically searching for a place to evade. 

Finally, a crowd appears, swarming amongst diners and flickering street lights.

Your perfect hideaway. 

Swimming through the hive of people, you catapult yourself into the nearest phone booth in sight, fumbling through deep pockets before cashing a coin into the metal slot and jarring your index over slippery metal numbers.

Praying the combination is correct as you hold the wired telephone to your ear, you’re consumed with utmost relief upon hearing The Alchemist’s voice answer on the other side of the crackling line.

Amidst roaring rainfall drowning the booth, you differentiate shouting a ways off, likely belonging to the men from earlier. 

“Mr- Mr. Lee?”

“Yes? Where are you?”

“Are you.. Are you allergic to cats?”

Never in your life did you think you would be so overjoyed seeing blue doors. 

Clambering inside—the rather upset cat in your arms hissing their dismay—you’re overwhelmed with an unexplainable happiness seeing Minho’s face peer from the guest room. 

Relief.

“L/N wha..” 

Words dying in his throat as he gives you a speechless once over, your urge to hug him dissipates instantly, beckoning a new set of garments upon realizing how utterly drenched your precious disguise is.

Simultaneously shoving the cat his way before rushing to your room, you thankfully strip of your fretfully cold attire, welcomed in the comforting embrace of clean clothing.

A mere five minutes later you exit, greeted by Minho’s stockstill frame. Hand half-raised, evidently about to knock.

You forcefully clear your throat, praying the momentary awkward tension is alleviated.

Luckily, The Alchemist takes it upon himself to break the spell, eyes dancing across the floorboards in order to avoid your own.

“Well, she’s stable. Her vitals are fine, nothing too critical apart from a few cuts here and there. Just shaken up.”

Your stare of astonishment earns a confused tip of his head.

“That fast?”

Said (apparently female) cat rubbing her body along your calf with an obviously delighted purr, you appear nearly concussed, crouching down to pat the soft, striped fur lining her back.

Minho snorts.

“What can I say, I get work done.”

Maybe he is a vampire after all.

Mirroring your crouch, he watches your interaction, similarly feline-like inspection unnoticed till glancing up.

And for a swift moment, you swear he saw through you. Lips parted, eyes scrutinizing. Piecing together the building blocks to a wavering structure you’d strived so hard to build, to protect.

No. You’re overthinking. He couldn’t possibly know.

You failed to notice the forlorn look on his face, one that ushers to ask if you’re okay, fetch a hot beverage to warm your evidently cold hands.

“Might I ask how you ended up bringing this one home?”

Leave it to him to take the title as your greatest ally and worst enemy at the same time.

Ah. Right.

“Y’know I was about to get to that-” 

You pause, deriding the high pitch of your voice into something more appropriate. He cocks a brow.

“As I was saying, it wasn’t my intention to bring her back, but the place she was trapped at, the place with the men- the plants..”

According to his expression, you’ve grown two heads.

…

“Go on.”

“Look, the place I found the Chrysanthemum was having cat fights. Do you remember hearing about the dog fights in Gangwon? It’s the same thing. We can’t just sit still while they’re torturing innocent animals.”

“I don’t know what you got yourself into, but I’m an Alchemist, not a hero,” He sighs, and your hand stalls its petting, face falling while the cat in your lap flicks her tail back and forth expectantly.

He has a point. You got yourself into this, you went into the Greenhouse. It’s not his duty to clean up after your messes, but perhaps you can convince him, even by a small margin.

Play a fools game, earn a fools reward.

You’ll mop the floor of your own mess.

“Minho, please. Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?” 

Stifling silence making an additional appearance, you nervously await the verdict, perched rather hilariously outside of your bedroom door.

Chewing the skin of his cheek, he scolds himself for falling so susceptible to you, though you won’t ever know that.

“Fine, but you’d better have a plan.”

Ah. Great.

You don’t.

At dawn’s arrival you’re swept upward, fixing a hasty bout of tea and toast prior to dressing in the privacy of your appreciated quarters. 

You don a much-needed hat, hopping aboard the first train of the day with a well-dressed Minho in tow.

Retracing your steps turns out easier than you anticipated, The Alchemist tailing you as you had done him at Port Nova.

Though, just when the task seemed a cake walk, you manage a meager detour, regarding your unimpressed mentor.

“From what I can remember, it’s around here somewhere. But I might be wrong, I stumbled upon it by accident and it looks a bit scary but I think—“

“Stop! Stop- Stop talking. Please.”

You quickly shut your mouth, allowing the man to lead instead till the sight of familiar landmarks becomes a gradual reassurance of your location.

Perhaps now it’s safe to talk.

“Mr. Lee, what did Reiner mean by calling you a champion-“

Shoved against the brick wall, your sentence dies instantly, panickedly glancing in all directions assessing the all too familiar pistol Minho‘s drawn, conspicuous in close proximity. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” He enunciates, tone unusually gruff whilst scanning your surroundings.

Your face warms an involuntary pink you clamber to ward off, drawn to the sight of his tense jaw and the feather-like arrangement of long lashes, focused on something elsewhere.

Your retort dies not only from his beauty, but upon the familiar Greenhouse coming into view.

“Looks like we found where your little friends are playing.”

Though, as the man begins forward, you grab him by the sleeve.

“Wait! We can’t just waltz in.”

His hand, slipping from the warmth of his pocket, cups your chin, unbearably close to your face to the point you can feel his breath on your nose. 

Curse the butterflies.

“Well there’s no need for an introduction, so let’s listen this time, shall we?”

Left at a loss for words either from your slack mouth or the concerning amount of sweat building upon your palms, you don’t argue back, lingering right outside the door, craning to hear voices. 

By the sound of it, at least four people are inside at the moment, and the longer you stay out here, the more ample time becomes for additional threats to show up. 

As if reading your mind, he slips through the rugged door, gesturing for you to follow while silently navigating through dense, humid underbrush and overgrown foliage.

However, your quiet voyage is quelled when a twig, unbeknownst to the two of you, cracks under the pressure of his foot. 

“Shit,” He mutters, cringing back at the immediate quietness that ensued.

The Alchemist curses as well.

Interesting.

Amidst the men bearing closer, Minho turns to you, tone urgent. 

“When I get up, you run and free the cats. Don’t look back, just go.”

Nodding hastily, you reacquaint yourself with the area, ensuring a dead set beeline to where the cats were held without interruptions. 

Minho, a split second before you can ask a question, whips the gun from his coat pocket, the sound of bullets whipping through the air enough indication it’s time you go.

Finnicking hands make it hard to unscrew the wired cages, surges of adrenaline helping speed up the rescue as you double check every feline has escaped.

Heeding to instruction, you don’t look for The Alchemist, solely driven to freeing the cats and fleeing the scene. No more problems. 

Almost an exact replica to your last visit here, a hand drags you off right as you exit the Greenhouse doors, back pressed against his (whom you realized was Minho, not Hyunjin, thanks to the leather gloves) front. 

And perhaps from running, perhaps from something else, you can feel his heartbeat, oscillating in a nonstop orchestra that sends your own heart pounding from the confines of your rib cage. 

Stifling a shaky inhale you’d held in as the last of the perpetrators scattered elsewhere, you instantly step back, denying every urge to coddle him like a child, fretfully check him for injury. 

A certain fondness lay reserved for Lee Minho, a fondness you can’t discern of at the moment. 

“C’mon, quick, Soonie might get scared if we’re gone for too long,” He ushers, crashing your tunneling train of thought right off its rails in the process. 

“Yeah-“

You stop.

“Soonie?”

“Yeah, Soonie.”

“You named her?”

“..Yes.”

It’s a genuine struggle hiding your laugh.

“I didn’t find you the type to take in cats.”

“Today you’ve been proven wrong, apparently.”

A sort of giddiness you never experienced fills your chest, wishing nothing more than to look back at the man and swoon. 

How could you not? He was very much dexterous, and attractive without a doubt, that much was known to anyone who laid eyes on The Alchemist.  

Your trek home proved relatively easy, able to skillfully get to the station away from prying eyes and trod along a mixture of gravel and dusty roads without issue.

Silently celebrating your success, you nudge your counterpart's hip, the unimpressed side-eye he grants doing little to dull your happiness.

“Aren’t you an Alchemist? How come you’re oddly good with a gun?”

He clicks his tongue.

“Aren’t you my apprentice? How come you’re getting yourself into trouble when your only instruction was to fetch herbs?”

You conceal a smile he obviously catches, glare failing to quiet your bubbling laughter, his own lips tugging upward.

“It was necessary Mr. Lee! And you know you love Soonie.”

“Unfortunately.”

Nearly a month into her residence, and Soonie has become an effervescent force to be reckoned with. Although initially sassy and wary, she’s transformed into the most affectionate cat you’d ever met.

You have to give it to her, she’s grown on the both of you, a lot.

Plus, you might just have to thank her for unleashing Minho’s tender side, whether that’s the two of them cuddling on the couch while he naps or him picking her up and treating her like a baby while you watch from afar. 

Over the course of the five months you’ve been here, you’ve sent countless checks back home—enough to where dues could finally be paid and the hope for a good life came into view.

Everything seems right, seems ideal. 

But of course, on an equally ideal Thursday evening, a thousand pounds of bricks drops right on top of your head. 

“How long were you planning to keep it from me?” 

He, Lee Minho, The Alchemist, voices.

Simultaneously, your stomach plummets to your feet, peeking over your shoulder to find his back facing you, hunched over a straus flask. 

Then the bomb drops.

“You being a woman, that is.” 

Abruptly pausing, you don’t reply, worried you’d say the wrong thing, unintentionally summon the catalyst to this arising catastrophe. 

Yet, you can’t stay quiet for too long. And a fear lingered inside, a fear that if he looked at you, you would break.

“Forever.” 

Doing just what you dreaded, he turns to you, wearing a horribly serious expression. 

You avoid eye-contact. 

“Because you thought I would fire you?”

A nod. 

“And that’s why you said that, when you first came to me? That you weren’t a woman asking for a job?” 

Another nod. 

He sighs, pulling glasses from atop a hooked nose. You remain staring at the floor.

“I don’t decide who to hire based on what they are. If you can do your job and do it well, you’re worthy enough to work.”

Minho spoke softly, the dim, orange lighting of his lamplight doing little to shake how overwhelming the occasion is, how it feels as if your disguise is wearing, thinning to an impossible degree. 

Except, your world isn’t ending like you thought it would if someone found out, so why do you feel so heartbroken? So overstimulated with realization?

“How did you..” you trail off, raging tears longing to spill. 

No, you can’t afford to cry now. You’ve held out so far, it will stay that way. 

Should stay that way.

Minho dips his head lower in order to fully see you in all your lip-chewing, anxiety-ridden glory. The ghost of a smile rests upon his lips. 

“It was impossible not to tell. You’re unusually tiny, those shoes are massive, and, um, I do the laundry.” 

Watching his once bemused expression dissipate, you mark this as the first time you’ve ever seen him genuinely flustered—and, upon realizing he’d likely seen more than necessary as well, you’re also diminished to a bright red. 

The room wilts in stillness before he exhales, stepping a bit closer to where you linger by the bookshelf, your heels tapping against the frame. 

Tone minimizing itself terribly gentle, The Alchemist carefully collects your cheeks in his hands, urging you to see him, see those terribly thoughtful brown eyes granting a terribly kind disposition. 

“It’s been scary, hasn’t it?” 

Well, you had held out thus far.

Cracking into pieces, you melt like droplets of honey in his fingertips. He perfectly catches them in the jar. 

Out of anyone in this world, you can’t help but be grateful he was the one who found out, found you.

Chest bubbling with breaking sobs, Minho’s thumbs caress your under eyes, swiping away the many salty droplets in their continuous descent. 

Own hands shakily reaching up to hold his resting on your face, you stand there, soaking in his wooded, earthy scent and the soft hums he occasionally emits as if a reminder he’s still there, listening to your cries without intent to leave.

“Mr.. Mr. Lee… It was so scary, I’m so tired Mr. Lee,” You hiccup, mentally berating the endlessly freefalling tears, how your once staved emotions reduced your strong, dutiful voice into nothing but a stuttering mess.

Carefully swiping drool from your chin, he leans forward, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“I don’t know why you did it, but I promise it’ll be okay, we’ll be okay.”

Then another kiss to your forehead, staying there until your sniffling and breathing calms.

Gathering yourself if only slightly, you wrap your arms around his waist, pulling him into a warm hug he gradually accepts after a beat of shock. 

“Thank you, Minho.” 

And just when he thought the shock faded, he’s struck again from the sound of his name leaving your mouth.

Minho. 

Mr. Lee had been charming, but Minho, it was different. A good kind of different. 

He particularly favored the way it sounded falling off your lips, two syllables he’d replay over and over, savoring each a little bit more than the last.

More so, he wished to substitute his nagging thoughts with you, have you narrate the phrases bouncing inside his skull.

Perhaps then everything wouldn’t be so loud, if he had your voice to nullify the battlefield.

Unfortunately forced to separate, Minho adjusts his tie, clearing his throat in a manner you can’t help but feel nervous about. 

You like this flustered Minho.

“I’ll.. I’ll run you a bath.” 

You wince at the rawness of your skin when your face wrinkles in a chuckle.

“Do I smell?” 

Minho, frantically scrambling for an excuse, rubs his temples, exasperation evident in the grooves of his face, the curve and dip of prominent cheekbones portraying a mature visage.

“No I-“ He grumbles. “It helps calm you down.” 

Merely able to halfway staunch your irrevocable glee, you call his name as he begins stepping out, ears an adorable pink.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N. L/N is my last name.”

Not allowing you view of his front-side, you listen to his whispering with delight, testing the newly discovered title on his tongue as if to memorize it.

Ah, you’re falling in love.

Or maybe you’ve already fallen.

Hastily closing the door behind himself and letting you get situated in the bath, it’s not long into your relaxing that you notice a shadow seeping through the door’s crack, a figure standing there, debating.

“Minho?” You announce amusedly, watching the shadow jump and causing you to bite your frothing laugh whilst choosing what to say next. 

“Would you like to join me?”

The Alchemist audibly chokes on his saliva outside the door. 

Sparing a few seconds for him to collect his oxygen, you hadn’t been prepared for when he replies a quiet: “Another time”.

Your eyebrows shoot up with surprise. 

Daring. 

Then his shadow, after furious shuffling, disappears, serving as a reminder of your extended time spent bathing. 

Assembling the copper drain and pulling foreign nightwear over dampened skin, opposed to your usual rush to your room, you allow the chilling air to grant its harsh greeting, leaving the steamy room in its wake.

No more secrets. What a breath of fresh air.

Minho, still cooped up at his desk like routine, barely moves when you place your hands on his shoulders, adorning those charismatic glasses, lips pursed thoughtfully.

“You should go get some rest Mr– Minho,” You beckon, response a sleepy blink of his eyes, obviously exhausted.

“...I really wanted to kiss you.”

The remark drifting off as a murmur, you crane to hear him, wondering if your mind was playing tricks on you. 

“Hm?” Humming, you lightly push his back toward his quarters, the man begrudgingly following your inaudible orders. 

At least he’s cooperating.

Abruptly, he turns around, evading your hands that ease his back forward, sporting a pout adorable enough you might just lose your mind.

How unfair that someone could behave like this and expect you to not go insane.

“When you started crying.” His eyes flicker to your lips, if only for a moment. “I really wanted to kiss you.”

A portion of your stock-still frame wants to blame his tiredness, but another so badly wants it to be true, wants those words to be irrevocably real.

Fighting the urge to scream with how stupidly childish he’s making you feel, you reject every ounce of sensibility, looping one arm around his neck, using your other hand’s index to tug him closer by the belt loop. 

Trust, the feeling is mutual.

Why waste the opportunity?

“What’s stopping you?” 

The utterance barely graces air, and in milliseconds he’s crashing into your lips, a wordless confession it is real, not a mere figment of your imagination.

Stumbling to loosen his tie whilst keeping your faces impossibly connected, you fall deeper and deeper into the manner he tilts his head, expertly diminishing you into puddy in his touch. 

Back and forth, memorizing your taste on his tongue. 

Clumsy footsteps lead to his sofa, your fingers tangled in his dark strands, his kneading your waist.  

And it’s not until your lungs cry for oxygen that you pull apart, Minho’s bottom lip tugged and bitten, yours swollen with his feverish kisses. 

Both of you avidly messy, you can’t bring yourself to care, too busy enjoying the afterglow, his dazed smile.

“Whoever you want to save,” He starts, carefully smoothing over your skin with his thumb . “I will save them, deal?”

Returning that same lazy smile he directs at you, the both of you lean back on the couch, a twine of legs and limbs flailing in every direction.

Close, closer. 

A part of you aches at the thought, blinking up at such a stunning tragedy. Aches knowing you can’t return the favor, can’t say the same, promise him that same promise. 

Because according to the Red Plague, he’s lost that person, those people. So you remain silent, merely hoping one day they’ll receive proper eternal rest. 

That's something you might be able to promise.

Tipping your chin up to where it sits right above his heart, those brilliant eyes of yours blinking up at him do little for his well-being. 

Has anyone told you you’re beautiful? Because he thinks you are, he knows you are. 

Just this once and I won’t rope you into anything ever again, okay?

Minho grins deeper, brows creasing, expression doused in unadulterated adoration. 

“And yet, you rope me into something else,” He whispers to himself. 

“What was that?”  

“Nothing, let’s run another bath. I’ll join you this time, hm?”

FIC TAGLIST. @linocz @foxinnie8 @wonniesverse

sunboki, may 2022 ©

#skz x you #skz x y/n #skz x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #straykids x you #straykids x y/n #straykids x reader #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee minho x reader #lee minho fluff #leeknow x y/n #leeknow x you #leeknow x reader #leeknow fluff #lee know x y/n #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know fluff #lee know angst #leeknow angst #lee minho angst #skz angst #straykids angst #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids angst #straykids fluff

[call-sign-shark]

Heaven In Your Eyes || Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC (Heaven Lavey Shelby)

Additional content/Info: CLICK HERE

Fic Summary: He meets her at church one dreary night, guided by her singing. Her name? Heaven Lavey. White ivory hair, fair porcelain skin, and petite shape, this almost ethereal creature is Arthur's strict opposite. Yet, all it took was one dive into her heavenly eyes for him to be convinced God has sent His sweetest angel to save his bastard soul. The two lovebirds, obsessed with each other, are determined to live their love no matter people's judgments and no matter the dangers of a Peaky Blinder's life. They are together through the best and through the worst.

But behind her holy appearance and sweet facade, Heaven Lavey is dangerous. With rumors of witchcraft and murder, her shady past weighs on her shoulders. And if she is a blessing for Arthur Shelby, she will soon prove to be a curse for those who dare to stand in her and her husband's way. Even Thomas Shelby himself.

She is Arthur’s Angel, but don't get fooled by her doe eyes: for the rest of us, she is the White Devil.

And by extend, you are too.

Why? Because Heaven Lavey… It’s you.

TW: Major character death, explicit sexual content, canonical violence, graphic description of violence, blasphemy, witch trials and burning of innocent women, dependent relationship (if Arthur and Heaven are happy in their relationship, they are obsessed and possessive, which leads to bursts of violence and deifying from Arthur. By no means I am claiming their relationship is healthy, but it is what works for them)

ACT I.

♢ Ch. 1 || Heaven in Your Eyes

♢ Ch. 2 || Never Did, Never Dared

♢ Ch. 3 || Something Wicked This Way Comes 🔞

♢ Ch. 4 || Dead Bird at Witchin Hour

♢ Ch. 5 || The Hell in His Eyes

♢ Ch. 6 || The One They Should Have Burned

♢ Ch. 7 || Of Matches and Gasoline 🔞

♢ Ch. 8 || Tango on Broken Dreams

ACT II.

♢ Ch. 9 || For Whom the Bells Toll

♢ Ch. 10 || Closer to Heaven or Closer to Hell? 🔞

♢ Ch. 11 || When The Bridges Burn

♢ Ch. 12 || As They Always Did

♢ Ch. 13 || Cross My Heart and Hope to Die

♢ Ch. 14 || Pure As a Lamb 🔞

♢ Ch. 15 || Women Like Me in a Men's World

♢ Ch. 16 || Après Moi le Déluge ( c o m i n g . . .)

♢ Ch. 17 || ( Il Diàvulu Biancu)

♢ Ch. 18 ||

ACT III.

♢ Ch. 18 ||

♢ Ch. 19 ||

♢ Ch. 20 ||

♢ Ch. 21 ||

♢ Ch. 22 ||

♢ Ch. 23 ||

♢ Ch. 24 ||

♢ Ch. 25 ||

♢ The series can be longer.

Some events from the show are taken and obviously reworked. Yet, except for a few quotes and scenes, everything else is imagined by the author.

Related works - in chronological order-

♢ From Blood We Will Grow

♢ To Bark and Bite

♢ Kaiser Meeting Cyril (requested)

♢ A Bone to Pick With It (requested)

♢ Perfect Lines

♢ Savage Daughter

♢ A Slice of Us (Modern!HYE)

♢ Love Ritual (@zablife's celebration)

♢ The Woods Whisper 1, 2 (Halloween Horror)

♢Little Lamb 1, 2, 3 (Yandere!AU)

Moodboards and other content

♢ Playlist

♢ Moodboard Aesthetic

♢ Moodboard Chapter 6

♢Heaven In your Eyes Act II trailer

♢ Moodboard Chapter 12

♢ Heaven in your Eyes chapter 16 trailer

Looking for more? Check out Heaven's masterlist I and II.

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#arthur shelby #arthur shelby x reader #Peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #Arthur shelby x oc #Thomas Shelby #Tommy shelby x reader #Tommy shelby x oc #Arthur shelby x you #arthur shelby jr #arthur shelby x y/n #Arthur shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #john shelby x reader #Arthur shelby x ofc #Heaven Shelby #Polly Gray #Michael Gray #tommy shelby #peaky blinders x reader #Paul anderson #Cillian Murphy

[mischiefmanaged71]

In This Moment (1/?)

Summary: A single moment can spark a magnificent change in a person’s life. 

A/N: Peaky Blinders au, Ewan Mitchell (OC) x fem! reader

Shuffling through the papers in the stack in her hand, Y/N swung through the crowd of people in the office. The bustle of the morning prior to the next big job had many resources on hand, including herself. Y/N was working closely with Ada who was back in London on several agendas, including a more exclusive topic of certain figures of interest to Tommy and the Shelby’s business. She desperately missed her close friend, after all, being surrounded by the crowds of men consistently became tiresome. Having someone to talk to and relate was a different company than what the Shelby boys offered in their rowdy and explosive natures. Their tenacity and attitudes were something she had grown used to over the many years of knowing the family.

That very morning she received a call from Arthur, requesting her presence in the office at Tommy’s behest. It was probably an update, she suspected. Or something of the sort. She arrived early, peering around at the busy crowd so wandering about seemed the opportune moment. Polly’s door was creaked open slightly, giving her view into the person sat at the desk. An excited laugh escaped her as she knocked on the door, peering into the doorway at Ada sat with her son, Karl, in her lap. 

Y/N crashed into Ada’s shoulders, hugging her tightly “Ada! You didn’t tell me you’d be in. What’re you doing here?”

Polly smiled at the interaction as she overlooked her papers once more, a puff of smoke leaving her lips. 

“It was about time to get out of the house. Thought I’d bring Karl back for a visit too since things have calmed.” she replied, brushing her son’s hair back.

Y/N smiled warmly, caressing the boy’s cheek as he looked up and grinned at the familiar face of his aunt. Growing up on the same street as the Shelby’s meant chaos, fun and a many other things that couldn’t have been good when pairing five children. Although all different ages, Y/N felt she could hang around with the Shelby’s as one of their own. Precisely as to why including her in the family business wasn’t a second thought. 

“It’s great to see you.” Y/N nodded, “Lord knows we need more women around here.” earning laughter from both women. Karl clapped his hands in response.

“Busy morning? Earlier than you usually come in.” Polly pointed out, glancing up from her desk.

Y/N exhaled a breath, leaning against the desk, “Yeah, a few jobs to take care of. Arthur said Tommy’s got something for me. Not too sure what.”

“If you’re not too busy later, maybe we could have dinner together?”

“I’d love that.” Y/N smiled, her eyes drifting to the large window peering into the office space. Her attention fell on an individual standing to the side, out of the chaos. He had a straight posture, hands tucked in his pockets in a relaxed manner as he watched the room attentively. She ran her eyes over his blonde hair, these deep blue eyes somewhere far off where she wanted to gaze into. Her heartbeat picked up, the sound of it drumming in her ears. Y/N noted his strong jawline and appreciated it as the muffle of conversation bled into the background of her mind, overcome with a sudden interest in this stranger. 

Ada’s voice brought her back, “Y/N?” 

She furrowed her brows, returning her attention to the ladies “Sorry, did you say something?"

“Ada was just telling us about the lovely weather they’ve been having in London.”

The women shared a look before Ada continued, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “A bit distracted there?” peering through the window.

“No-I, uh.” a breathy laugh escaped her mouth. She was saved by a knock at the door brought their attention away as Arthur stood there, an expecting look on his face.

“Morning ladies. Hope I’m not interrupting.” he winked, “Tommy’s ready for ya.”

Y/N sighed, bidding her goodbyes to the ladies before following Arthur out. “Since when are you Tommy’s errand boy?”

“I’m not. That’s simply for your benefit.” he tugged his arm around her shoulders at the teasing smirk on her face, “Only the best for our, Y/N/N.”

“Of course.” she grinned, “Wouldn’t expect any less treatment from you lot.”

Arthur laughed, relaxing his arm as they crossed to the doorway, holding the door open for her. She sent him a grateful smile, passing through the doorway to Tommy’s office, the man himself sitting at his desk. The door shut behind the, as Arthur left.

“Good, you’re here.” Tommy noted, standing from his seat. Her attention drew to the other figure in the room, the stranger she had her sights set on. He was dressed in a similar fashion to the other men around; a dark coloured trouser, shirt and tie, with the matching coat for the cold Birmingham mornings.

Her mouth parted slightly, particularly at the beauty of his features up close and the mellow blue eyes that stirred something her chest. Y/N smoothed her expression out and appeared neutral as she focused back on Tommy. 

“It has come to my attention there have been occasions where your security has been in question.”

She nodded, not exactly reading into where Tommy was going with this.

“Arthur and I have come to a decision over it and we came up with a solution.” He gestured to the other man, “This is William Adler,” he gestured, “I’ve hired him to be part of your personnel.”

She remained silent for the moment, running it over in her mind as her thoughts came to a halt at the proposition.

“Right. That’s one, then.” she replied, glancing between the men. She stepped forward, folding her arms across her chest “What exactly is Mr Alder being hired for?”

“Anything you need, Mr Adler will handle it.” he clapped a hand on Will’s back, bringing the man’s eyes back to Tommy. 

He nodded, “If its any reassurance, not my first job in protection.”

A look of intrigue crossed her face before Y/N stepped to the side with Tommy, as she whispered in a hushed tone, “You didn’t think to ask me beforehand about this?”

“It’s for your benefit, Y/N. Adler will follow you around, keep you safe from those that wish to do you harm. Which is far too many when you’re a part of this family.” he nodded.

"I know, Tommy. You and Pol have done a lot for me, but don't you think you should consult me first before making decisions like this?"

"This is your safety we're talking about. I won't be arguing with you on this. Leave it." He sent her a curt look that silenced her next words. She nodded.

“If you have any problems, tell me and I’ll fix it.” patting her arm as he stepped to his desk. A puff of smoke left his mouth as he gestured to the door. 

“I’ll allow you two to be acquainted. You’ll be spending a lot of time together.” 

“Morning, Tommy.” Y/N nodded, still stunned on this inside as she managed a facade of decorum. Walking to the door, only to be met with Will’s taller stature holding the door open for her. She bowed her head to hide the blush forming on her cheeks, murmuring a thanks that she hoped he could hear before exiting Tommy’s office. Her heart beat faster in her chest as her thoughts ran amuck, the tread of his shoes thumping behind her. 

She swallowed, forming a sentence “I’m uh, Y/N.” formally introducing herself. The amusement on his face caused her to cough shakily, “You already knew that. Uh-it’s nice to meet you, Mr Alder. I hope I didn’t offend you at all, I was simply surprised.”

“Will.” he replied curtly, studying her face.

“Sorry?” she turned to him, a soft look on her face as she held onto his words. His voice was a melodic sound she could listen to forever.

“You can call me Will.” a smile tugging at his lips. “And it’s fine. I understand.”

“Right.” she smiled bashfully, “Sorry about that.” she gestured behind her at Tommy’s office.

“Tommy is mostly blunt. He’s the boss and...well, he makes all of the important decisions around here. Mostly without oversight.”

“My apologies for disrupting your routine, Ms. I understand its not conventional, but I believe Mr Shelby has your best interests in mind.” he dipped his head to look at her. 

“It appears so.” she blinked, shaking her head to continue walking down the corridor, “No, I uh-I’m sure we’ll get to know each other very well. Tommy should have just asked and...”

“If you ask me, I think we’ll get along just fine.” he turned his hands in his pocket as they arrived at Polly’s office. His back was to the window, while Y/N was in the frame. He leaned down, his breath brushing her ear, “A bit of advice.” 

Y/N felt her whole body freeze in anticipation, her blood pounding in her ears as she felt breath escape her.

“You can see through the window from both sides.” he glanced down at her with a coy look, a smirk tugging at his handsome face. Y/N’s mouth parted, staring up at him with this wonderous look before she shock back into her reverie, inhaling a sharp breath. She had glanced between his eyes and full lips for far too long to be considered appropriate.

“I-I’m to see Ada off.” she breathed, a shy smile as she brushed past him to Polly’s office. The door swung closed behind her as Y/N stared at the women who looked back with expecting looks. 

“What?” she deadpanned, breathless for the moment as she brushed her hair back. Her hands fell to her waist as she failed to push the thought of the man from the forefront of her mind.

Polly smirked at her dishevelled demeanour, sharing a knowing look with Ada as she tapped her pen, “You’ve got an interesting situation there.”

“Did you know about this, Pol?”

The woman shook her head, watching the exasperated expression on Y/N’s face stretch with her furrowed brows. 

“What happened?”

Y/N folded her arms, wetting her lips “Your brother has assigned me my own personal guard.”

Ada smiled, her eyebrows perking up at the man leaning against the pillar outside the office, his eyes averted to the crowd once more. “What’s the problem then?”

Y/N refused to answer, nodding her head back to the window as she glanced at his side profile. Her heart swelled at his perfectly sculped bone structure. There was this effortlessness to his whole demeanour and look that enraptured her attention unlike anyone had before. 

“The way I see it, this is good for you. You’re always working too hard. Having the help will do you some good.” Ada paused, “And it doesn’t hurt that he’s handsome too.” laughing at the devastated look on Y/N’s face.

“Don’t.” She held a hand up at Ada, glancing back at his profile through the window. Even his side profile was stunning. 

“Pol?” Y/N turned to the older woman, looking for reprieve.

She waved her hand, “I had no idea he would do that. And you know you’d better listen to Tom, lest he grow upset with you. Or worse, he’ll stop you from working altogether.”

She folded her arms, staring at Ada’s enticed expression. The woman was finding far too much delight in Y/N’s reaction.

“What? I don’t see why you’re so distressed. We both saw you eyeing him earlier.” Ada followed. 

Y/N folded her arms, “Exactly. Spending almost every waking minute by his side. Do you know what that’ll do to me?"

“Make you less miserable?”

Y/N choked out a laugh, “I’ll make a right fool of myself, Ada. This is not something I anticipated.”

“Now you’re just being dramatic.” the woman chided.

“You know me so well.” she narrowed her eyes.

“It’ll be fine.” Ada replied, grasping her hands, “This is a reassurance for us all. To know that you’re safe when we can't be there. It's a reassurance that'll set us at ease."

Ada would be right in that sense. Tommy meant well, it was just the methodology behind it that put Y/N off. She would have to learn to adapt and exist within this man’s presence. Even given the fact she felt she would buckle at the knees with a single look. 

“Do tell us how it goes.” Polly replied, a smirk on her face. 

“I’ll be sure to tell you all about it.” Y/N regarded, moving back toward the door where her new protector patiently awaited her return. 

How her heart was going to rule with the effect Will had on her was in question for sure. She would do what Tommy wished for his sake. 

Oh, what trouble would come with the sway of one’s heart. 

Anything could happen.

#ewan mitchell #aemond #peaky blinders #ewan mitchell x reader #x reader #peaky blinders au #in this moment series #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #world on fire

[deceitfuldevout]

Hidden Treasure (Part 5)

Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Tommy Shelby x Wife!Reader

Warning(s): Minor character death, Murder.

Author's note(s): Tommy's a green-eyed monster in this one.

Now you're sat with Alfie, discussing a plan on how you would escape. He knew your husband well enough. Still, it was a surprise to find out about the little firecracker wife of Tommy Shelby.

You were running on borrowed time, not wanting to waste a single moment. You skim though explaining your family’s relations to the Peaky Blinders. Alfie raises a hand in the middle of it, “You’ve gotta slow down love, my temples are 'startin to ache,” he rubs the sides of his head for a few moments before leaning in, “Now…what exactly did he uhh…do to scare a beauty like you off?”

A beauty. How ironic. You would expect your ‘dear’ husband to call you that, not some gangster. Never had you felt that way around Tommy, and that’s what hurts the most. You would be in deep trouble if he even heard another man compliment you…

Like any pub, the Garrison was busy during the holidays, the Shelby family had been busier than ever. Tommy would bring you along not as a companion, nor a business partner, but more of an accessory to drape around his arm. While wearing clothes he would allow you to wear. No one had taken you seriously unless your husband was there to bark orders. Other than that, you were known as the 'Wife of Thomas Shelby’ or 'Mrs. Shelby’. But today, you wanted to be yourself and look nice while doing so. Besides, Tommy had always expected you to look your best.

You wore a rich blue gown with an open collar to adorn an expensive silver necklace. Your hair was tied in an up-do, while your lips were painted a deep shade of rouge. You wore satin gloves with a pricey fur coat. You would be kept in the house most of the time, so why not put these nice clothes to good use? It’s not like Tommy would mind. He'd always let you drift away from him during parties. Any other dame would’ve been excited that their husband would allow them to have a little fun. Yet why did it make you feel so...miserable?

It felt so meaningless these parties, extravagant events, wearing uncomfortable clothing, along with an unnecessary number of guests. Worst of all, Ada and Polly were nowhere to be seen to keep you company. You look around to find them dancing drunkenly and carefree. With Polly taking the lead. At that moment you understood, they had guests to entertain.

With a marriage like yours, drinking became a large portion of your “coping method”. by the third month you were downing shots as if they were water, seeing as your husband was never there for comfort. Only to keep his cock warm. You couldn't believe him. What kind of a man leaves his own wife alone, in a bar of all places? It didn't matter if he owned it, he still left. You curse that Shelby man.

You sat on a bar stool while sipping a glass of water instead. Tonight, Tommy would leave you be, and that also meant at peace. There was no point in getting drunk now. No reason to drink as much anymore. You had to take more care of yourself now. You were too deep in thought to even notice someone had been staring at you.

You felt a sudden tap your shoulder. It was some chap, seemingly in his mid-thirties. He raises a brow to the seat next to yours, “Mind if I keep you company?” he gestures at the empty chair. You shrug it off, “Not at all, by all means,” you jerk your head to the seat. He takes the opportunity to hold your gloved hand to his lips. He places a gentle kiss against your knuckles. That wasn’t a common thing around here.

Usually, the men here would avoid even looking at you. But his eyes are hooded, as he stares directly into yours. Still cradling your gloved hand in his, “Tell me my dear; why on earth would such a beauty sit alone in a place like this?”

You smirk then look away, “To tell you the truth, I’m still trying to figure that out myself...” You shrug, staring at the half-empty glass. He chuckles, “You my dear, are a diamond in the rough,” he winks. You look down shyly while cradling your drink. Not taking notice at his eyes lingering your bodice. He takes his sweet time admiring the rise and fall of your chest.

Tommy, however, had seen the entire interaction. He knew very well of your long list of secret admirers, fending them off was a job itself. He just couldn’t believe you’d do it so boldly in public. As soon as you were given an ounce of freedom. He excuses himself from a conversation that he'd been in since arriving. His ears pick up on what you were saying, “Try telling that to my-”

“Who is this?” Tommy voice is heard right behind you. The other man reaches in to shake his but your husband ignores the friendly gesture. His hands rest on your naked shoulders, causing shivers to rake up your spine. His cold blues stare down the other man.

Your eyes raise as you turn around, “…my husband.” your eyes widen in fear, “Tommy…this is…” you tried giving him an answer. But he hadn't given you a chance to explain, instead he interrupts, “I can’t even leave without you making a fool out of me.” he scolds. He always spoke to you as of you were a child. As if he weren't the one who made you a woman. He looks at what you’re wearing. There are visible peaks from your breasts hardening from the cool air, leaving very little to the imagination. Something that should only be open to his view only. He pulls you out of your seat, the other man intervenes, “You’ve mistaken sir, see I-”

“Piss off,”

“I beg your pardon?”

“And stay the fuck away from my wife,”

Tommy doesn’t give him a second glance. He quickly removes his coat and throws it on your shoulders. He drags you by the arm out of the pub. His brothers are quick to catch up on what was happening.

Was he mad about your dress? Surely, you hadn’t meant to push him. Were you over dressed for the occasion? Or did he think you were flirting intentionally with a stranger? You were all alone and had no one to talk to! It's not like you wanted to sleep with the bloke!

But that didn’t matter now. Tommy was mad, very mad. It couldn’t be jealousy. Not with Tommy, no, It wasn’t jealousy. It was possession. Even if it were he was doing a damn good job at hiding it. The real reason was that you disobeyed his authority. You knew what would come from his anger alone. You didn't seek his approval for your outfit tonight. Which only meant a punishment was in store. The last thing you hear before being thrown into his car, was the sound of a gunshot firing.

Tommy muffles your screams with his gloved palm. You became dizzy. A sickness began to consume you. Trying your best not to puke in the passenger seat. When the car stops, Tommy is the first to exit. He slams the car door behind him. You stay put. Not as an act of defiance, but out of pure fear. So scared that it left you physically paralyzed. Consumed by a strong feeling of anxiety. He was going to kill you, just like that man. At that moment you knew, you would never be safe around him. You had to get away from him no matter what.

#dark!tommy #dark!thomas shelby #dark!tommy shelby #dark!fic #dark!fanfic #dark!fanfiction #dark!smut #dark fic #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #dark smut #dark!thomas shelby x reader #dark!tommy shelby x reader #fem!reader #afab!reader #fab!reader #peaky blinders #my work #my works #hidden treasure fanfiction

[racing-stripes]

i love peaky blinders but the fact that it has a fandom at all is so unserious to me. like wdym tommy shelby x alfie solomons coffee shop au? those two men have tried to kill each other and Not in the sexy way

#i want to clarify that it is simply funny to me and i enjoy its existence #however it is baffling #i am a very fandom minded person you will catch me shipping things based on pure vibes all the time! but like. what do you MEANN #they have (in my fangirl fujoshi mind) absolutely no chemistry and i do enjoy their canon interactions i could neverr picture them kissing #maybe it's because i dont want to ship anyone with tommy bc he just is not a great person (i love him dearly) #anyway sorry to post about fictional characters on my rpf blog but have a little rant #peaky blinders

[zablife]

Welcome to the Family

Finn Shelby x Mary Roberts (OC)

Summary: Finn Shelby becomes infatuated with Mary Roberts, a simple governess he spots one evening. When he decides he wants to marry her, he stops at nothing to make her his. 

Author’s Note: Takes place between S5 and S6 when Finn started to turn darker. This is an origin story of sorts for Finn and Mary. Written for @solomons-finest-rum 800 follower Film Noir celebration. Prompt “I wanted to see you again.”

Warnings: 🔞, Dark AU, sadistic behavior, language, stalking, possessiveness, abuse, mention of suicide, mention of blood, Stockholm syndrome **Proceed with caution

“Come on Mary, come with us! You only get one night off a month, let’s have some fun!” Victoria begged, pulling at her friend’s arm like an eager child. 

Mary sighed and asked, “Alright, where do you want to go?”

Victoria grinned and raised her eyebrows to indicate the mischievous thought running through her head.

“You want to go to the Garrison?” Mary asked incredulously.

“Yes, I do. And I know you do too!” Victoria said, searching her eyes for agreement. 

A smile slowly spread across Mary’s face and Victoria knew she had won. 

As Mary got ready that evening she thought about the rumors she’d heard about the Peaky Blinders. She wondered if they would see any of them tonight.

Mary and Victoria entered the bar with linked arms, ready for a night of fun. They sat at a table and ordered gin, feeling like silly schoolgirls as they laughed and gossiped. Soon they attracted the attention of two young men in expensive looking suits. They sat with the girls and introduced themselves. The boy Mary fancied was called Isiah and his warm brown eyes, along with his charming comments enchanted her. By the end of the evening he was offering her a sniff of snow and resting his large hand on her hip as she perched herself on his lap provocatively. 

As Isiah moved her over to grab his whisky glass, Mary noticed a third young man watching her from the corner. He was tall and handsome with ginger hair and a piercing stare. She knew he was interested in her the moment she laid eyes on him and she gave him a shy smile. Although he didn’t return her warmth, he continued to watch her intently. Mary held her breath wondering if he might break the tension and come speak to her. However, at that moment an older man came from a back room and motioned for him to come. As he turned suddenly, the spell was broken. 

Isiah noticed Mary was lost in thought and asked, “Everything alright, sweetheart? Am I not showing you a good time?” he joked, sliding another drink toward her.

“Oh, no. I’m having a wonderful time. I could get used to this life. In fact, I think I’d like this life a lot,” Mary said with a hiccup. She was far too drunk to notice she’d come to the attention of Finn Shelby and soon the Peaky Blinders would be part of her life whether she liked it or not.

———————————————————————

One week later

“Miss Roberts I have something to tell you, but I don’t want you to be cross with me,” six year old Emma declared suddenly. She was an obedient child and Mary wondered what she could possibly have done. 

“What is it, Emma?” She asked her young charge. 

“Well…” she began slowly.

Mary kneeled to look into her eyes and assured her, “It’s alright, whatever you’ve done, we’ll sort it,” nodding for her to continue.

“It’s not about me, Miss Roberts, it’s about a man I saw today,” she said sounding frightened.

“I don’t understand. What man?” Mary asked unsure what was making the girl so afraid.

Emma gulped and looked at Mary with serious eyes, “the ginger-haired man with the funny haircut. You haven’t seen him in the park watching us?”

“Oh, my…No,” Mary answered thinking back through their week of activities, unable to recall seeing a man at the park. Perhaps it had been Emma’s imagination.

“It’s true, there was a man,” Andrew spoke up. He had turned ten last month and was acting very grown up. He was quick to protect his sister when strangers were around. He would know something about this, surely.

“Go on,” Mary encouraged.

“He asked me about you when you were looking after Emma’s scraped knee yesterday.” Mary’s blood ran cold thinking of someone approaching the children without her knowledge. She was always so careful with them. Their parents entrusted them to her six days a week and although it was exhausting work, she did not take her job lightly. 

As she handed the children their lessons, she couldn’t stop thinking about what they had said. Was someone watching her?

————————————————————————

As Mary did some shopping the next day, she stopped at a stall to choose a few apples. The shopkeeper’s son chatted with her as she paid for them, telling a funny story about another customer. Mary giggled at his animated delivery while placing the apples in her bag. However, her laughter stopped abruptly when she looked up again to see the color slowly draining from the boy’s rosy cheeks. “What’s wrong?” Mary asked.

“It’s those Peaky Blinder devils, always watching like hawks,” he said ominously. Mary tried to steal a glance at the men he was talking about and noticed Isiah and a few other lads milling around the square.

“It’s alright. They’re not as scary as they seem,” Mary shrugged dismissively.

“You ought to be careful,” the boy warned, a worried look in his eye.

“I will,” Mary promised with a warm smile.

As she walked toward home, she was aware of Isiah calling to her and she stopped in the street. 

“Hello, lovely Mary,” he called out with a wolfish grin.

“Hello, Isiah. Are you following me?” Mary asked cheekily.

“I am actually. I need to give you a message,” Isiah said suddenly turning serious.

Mary cocked her head trying to decipher what was happening. Just then she heard a commotion coming from the shop she’d just visited and saw the boy she’d been speaking to thrown into the street, blood dripping down his face. Mary gasped at the sight and Isiah grabbed her shoulders to turn her away from the violence.

“I like you a lot, Mary, but Finn Shelby has spoken. Says you’re his now. He’s spreading the word,” he said jerking his chin toward the boy. 

“Why does he think that? I’ve never even met him,” Mary protested in a shaky voice.

“He knows you and that’s all that matters. Shelbys always get what they want,” Isiah tipped his cap to her and strode off. 

Mary’s legs felt like jelly as she tried to climb the hill back home. She rested against a building for a time thinking about how she could persuade Finn to leave her alone. She was scared though after witnessing the Peaky Blinders hurt an innocent person. What would they do to hear if she refused Finn?

That night as she arrived home, the maid told her with an eager smile there was a delivery for her. She watched Mary unbox two dozen red roses saying, “Gee, I wish I had a man who would spoil me like that. Didn’t know you were seeing anyone. Who are they from, Mary?” She peeked over Mary’s shoulder to read along with her and clapped a hand over her mouth when she saw the name Finn Shelby. 

“You’re seeing a Shelby man?” She asked in hushed awe. 

“No, there’s been a mistake. Throw them out, please,” Mary instructed. Mary gulped as she read the card again, realizing Finn knew where she lived.

————————————————————————-

Two days later

Mary was beginning to feel relaxed again as two days had passed and she heard nothing from Finn. She hoped he had given up on her. She went about her daily activities with the children in a pleasant mood. As she was tucking them into their beds, she heard the telephone ring in the upstairs hall. Not wanting to disturb the family, she picked up the receiver and heard a low voice ask for Mary Roberts. Mary knew something wasn’t right and her palms began to sweat as the voice said, “Why did you throw out my flowers, Mary? It’s rude not to thank someone for a gift.” 

“You can’t call me here, Finn,” she whispered harshly down the receiver. 

“You’re my girl, I’ll call you whenever I like. Don’t your employers know who the fuck I am?” Finn boasted.

Mary could tell he had been drinking by the way he slurred his words.

“No, I’m not. Stop calling here,” she hissed before slamming the receiver.

The phone rang constantly that night, trilling sharply throughout the house until her employer finally disconnected it.  

The next morning at breakfast she heard them discussing it and hid herself so they wouldn’t ask her any questions. She hoped they wouldn’t find out who had disturbed their rest.

———————————————————————

Mary shouldn’t have concerned herself with the phone calls. Finn hung up whenever anyone else answered and after a week he stopped completely. However, there was another problem he had created for her. 

“Miss Roberts, what do you know about the young men who have been gathering outside our home late into the evening?” Her employer who was usually so kind and docile looked harsh this evening. She could tell it was only fear setting in that had changed his demeanor. However, he was angry nonetheless. He looked to Mary for answers and she shifted uncomfortably in her chair. How was she going to explain the presence of the Peaky Blinders? She certainly couldn’t tell her employer the truth, but she couldn’t think of an alternative.

Clearing her throat, Mary began quietly, “Well, I suppose it must be one of those local gangs we’re always reading about in the newspapers. The city has become overrun with them,” she attempted. “Perhaps we should call the police?” She suggested wondering if they would do anything at all. The coppers had turned a blind eye to this gang a long time ago. 

Her explanation was not satisfactory to her employer, however. He took a note from his pocket and laid it down in front of her. “That might be true, but I have proof a certain young man you are intimately acquainted with is responsible for the commotion. I must demand that you explain yourself, Miss Roberts,” he said in an impatient tone. 

Mary picked up the letter to study it’s contents. She quickly realized Finn had written his intention to marry her and threatened that she was now under the protection of the Peaky Blinders. She was mortified at this piece of evidence, especially considering she had agreed to no such thing.

Mary enjoyed her freedom and her employment with this family. She had worked hard to achieve her station and didn’t particularly like the thought of leaving to become anyone's wife, let alone Finn Shelby. She thought of everything she still hoped to accomplish.

“Well, Miss Roberts, how would you respond to this?” He asked drawing her attention back to the conversation at hand.

“I…I …don’t know what to say, sir.” She responded truthfully. There were no words for this kind of intrusion into her personal life.

“My wife and I had no idea you were courting, especially not a common criminal. This is too much for us to overlook. You are here as a role model for our children after all. I am afraid we are going to be dismissing you immediately.” He crossed his arms over his chest showing he was closed to any further discussion on the matter.

Mary began to tear up at the thought of leaving Andrew and Emma, but she knew her employer was resolute. She would have no choice but to pack her bags and leave.

—————————————————————

The next day, Mary took her two small suitcases from the house. Emma was crying softly on the stairs, which broke Mary’s heart. “It’s alright, darling, I’ll be just fine. Be a good girl and do your lessons without whinging,” she said trying to sound cheerful.

Andrew stood behind her, eyes cast downward, hands stuffed in his pockets. “Why do have to go Miss Roberts?” He demanded.

“It’s time,” she replied vaguely. 

“But you said you wouldn’t ever leave us,” Emma whined. She sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve.

Mary extended a handkerchief to her saying, “If your parents allow it, I’ll write to you. How does that sound?” 

That only made her cry harder and Mary knew she had to take her leave soon before the mistress of the house scolded her for upsetting the children. 

“I’ll miss you both,” she said kissing the tops of their heads. 

When Mary turned to leave, an unfamiliar car was parked out front. As she closed the front door of the house, a young man exited the car and came towards her.

“I don’t want to cause you any trouble, miss, but you’re to come with me,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she protested.

“Oh, I think you will,” he said pulling back his overcoat to reveal the handle of a pistol. 

Mary held back a scream so as not to raise suspicion. The children were probably watching from the front window and she didn’t want to scare them. 

“Alright, but at least tell me who it is that summons me,” she asked fearfully.

“Finn Shelby,” the man replied.

Despite feeling like she should run, Mary found herself getting into the car with the blinder and driving off toward an unknown location. 

————————————————————

The car finally stopped in front of the Garrison and as she entered the empty bar, she relived the first night she had seen Finn standing in the corner watching her. Today Finn was standing in the middle of the room with a single chair facing him. He stood cracking his knuckles, gold pinky ring glimmering in the dim light. He rolled his shoulders back to stand taller and more imposing, although Mary was already frightened to her core.

Mary was ushered to the seat as Finn offered, “Please, have a seat, Mary.” She sat down reluctantly, studying the men gathered around her. This was nothing like the carefree night she had had with Victoria a month ago, she thought. That had been a different world altogether. 

“Why am I here?” Mary asked Finn as boldly as she knew how.

“I wanted to see you again,” Finn replied running a finger down her cheek and pushing her hair off her face. “What’s the matter, love? Thought you said you liked the life,” he taunted her and her words from that night with Victoria echoed in her head. She had said that. 

“Do you know who I am?” Finn asked taking her chin harshly in his hand. 

“You’re a soldier for the Peaky Blinders, I gather,” she managed looking into his eyes.

“Finn here is no soldier,” Isaiah explained. “He’s a general,” he proclaimed emphasizing the last word. 

Finn held up his hand to signal for silence and with a wave dismissed the other blinders leaving him alone with Mary. She watched him circle her like prey as he walked around the chair where she was seated. “I’ve been watching you, Mary. You’re smart, hard working and good with children. You’re exactly the kind of woman I want to marry.” 

“What if I don’t want to marry you?” Mary asked finding her courage. 

Finn chuckled darkly, “You’re feisty. I like that.” He sauntered over to the bar smirking to himself and grabbed a bottle of whisky and two glasses. “Let’s have a drink,” he said pouring haphazardly into both glasses, sloshing the amber liquid. He handed Mary a drink and she held it watching him carefully. 

“You shouldn’t drink during the day, you know. It dulls your senses, makes you slow. You should wait until six at least,” Mary said matter-of-factly.

“The clock strikes 6 when I fucking tell it to,” Finn said downing his drink in one gulp. He held eye contact as he opened the bottle for another.

“You can’t keep me here against my will. I won’t stay,” Mary asserted hoping she would prove more trouble than she was worth and he would let her leave. As Finn drained his glass, he studied the residue and swirled it around while he thought.

“The only way you’re leaving here is in a wooden box,” he said with a threatening stare. He snapped his fingers and the blinders returned to escort her to her new home.

The first night there she tried to have a discussion with Finn to make him reconsider marriage, but he was all consumed by the idea. Sensing her hesitation he called Jeremiah to the house for an impromptu ceremony. As they waited, Finn reminded Mary he knew everything about her, including the whereabouts of her only brother. His words were said calmly and casually, but she knew the violence that lurked behind them. She was well aware of his intentions so she quietly agreed to the marriage, hoping to save her brother’s life.

She wept softly as Jeremiah said the words over them that would make them husband and wife. Isiah stood witness signing the marriage certificate near Finn’s signature and Mary’s which was stained by a single tear. The walls had closed in on her.

——————————————————————-

Life with Finn was not easy. He had blinders guarding her night and day. He was controlling and irritable, often fucking her harshly at night to relieve the stress of a day being disrespected by his brothers. New bruises appeared daily from his punishing grip, a constant reminder that she was his possession.

Mary tried to reason with him at times and help him through his troubles. She would bandage his hands after a bout of fighting in the boxing ring or the streets and there were times when she hoped he would soften. However, she soon realized he was far beyond help. His difficult childhood, the inferiority complex he held and the incessant drinking had already turned him into a monster. She knew her only chance for happiness was to escape.

“You have to help me, Isiah. You know he married me by coercion. You were there. You could tell someone and I could have the marriage annulled,” she argued one day when he had been left to guard her. 

“People only know what Finn tells them,” Isiah said with a sigh. He felt for Mary, but knew there wasn’t anyone who could help her now.  

“Isiah, please, you don’t understand what my life is like. I need to get out,” she begged.

“I can’t help you, love. You’ll get us both killed. Try to accept the life Finn’s offering you,” he had urged her. No matter how she tried, she couldn’t stop daydreaming about her freedom and soon began to make desperate grabs for it whenever she could. 

Once she got as far as Coventry before he hauled her back. When the blinders shoved her into Finn’s arms once again, he reprimanded her. “Why do you keep trying this, love? You always fail,” he said. “You know you belong in this city with me.”

“You made me hate it here, how could I love all this fucking smoke?” She asked spitefully.

“How could you love me, you mean? I was born here, remember, Mary?” Finn countered. “The dirt and the smoke are part of me.”

“Nothing but darkness….” You whispered.

“What did you say?” Finn asked with a sneer. 

“This place is as dark as your soul, Finn,” she said to herself and he hit her hard across the cheek, sending her to ground. 

“Pick her up and get her home,” Finn ordered his men.

She let them carry her away, too dispirited to care.

———————————————————

The next morning as she lay pinned beneath Finn’s arm, she resigned herself to her only remaining option. She prayed for forgiveness, although she knew what she was about to do was a sin. Waiting for him to wake, she took in the pinks and oranges of the morning light weeping quietly at its beauty knowing she would never see it again.

Finn woke an hour later and dressed without looking at her. Sometimes she wondered why he bothered keeping her there when he ignored her so much of the time. When she heard the front door slam, she sat up quickly and went to the wardrobe in the corner. She found Finn’s spare peaky cap and turned it over in her hands contemplating the weapon held in its brim. The razor blade gleamed in the light, winking at her with the promise of freedom. She took a deep breath and began to drag the razor against her wrists. She felt numb as she cut deeper and watched the blood flow from her veins onto the floor. As she slumped to the ground, she looked at the cap in her hand and threw it away, wanting to distance herself from the Peaky Blinders once and for all. 

——————————————————————

She might have succeeded if it weren’t for Isiah coming to check on her. He rang for a doctor the moment he found her. Then he sent a man to tell Finn to return quickly. 

Mary had woken with bandages covering her forearms, a deep throbbing ache within her limbs which kept her from sitting up properly in bed. She slumped over, straining to hear the words echoing down the hall.

“Thank you for coming. Yes, of course, she’ll be well looked after.” She cowered at the sound of Finn’s voice. For a moment she fantasized about leaping from the bed and pushing herself out the window, but her eyes still felt heavy with sleep and Finn’s footsteps were already approaching.

Finn opened the door and slowly shut it behind him barely making a sound. He hung his head as he walked in and Mary wondered if he was actually feeling remorse for what happened. He sat on the side of her bed cautiously and took her bandaged arm in his hands. He lifted it to his lips and kissed it softly, but even this gentle gesture caused shivers to run down her spine as Finn was never gentle with her. He turned her hands over in his and tsked softly, “Should have used a gun, love.” 

Mary’s stomach churned with unease as she watched him pull a pistol from his jacket and pointed it at her sneering, “Is this what you want?” Mary’s eyes began to well with tears wondering if Finn would be the one to end her life. She had become so disheartened she wanted him to do it. She looked at him pleadingly, tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Do it, Finn. Please, let me go,” she begged. He stared at her a moment longer, enjoying the fear building in her eyes before pulling the trigger. She gasped as she heard the distinctive click that told her his weapon hadn’t been loaded. She fell back against the bed, rocking herself slowly to soothe against the disappointment of death being stolen from her for a second time that day.

——————————————————————

Three months later

That horrible day was quickly fading from her memory as Mary’s mind worked to heal itself, sealing up her emotions to protect her from further damage. She had become an obedient wife to Finn and he pretended to be as devoted to her. He claimed to only drink when she allowed it and praised her generously in public. Everyone wondered how he had found such an agreeable young thing in his line of work. 

By the time she was introduced to everyone during a family meeting, she was a shell of her former self. She clutched onto Finn’s arm as though it were devotion alone that moved her. When Tommy asked how they had met, Finn smiled broadly at her replying, “She likes the life, Tom.”

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

Tag list: @theshelbyslimited, @kittycatcait219, @shelbydelrey, @tommydoesntpayforsuits, @peakyswritings, @evita-shelby, @wandawiccan60, @easilyobessedbutflighty, @severewobblerlightdragon, @peakyrogers, @retromafia, @flysafepapi, @look-at-the-soul

#Peaky blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Finn Shelby fanfic #Finn Shelby imagine #Finn Shelby x Mary Shelby

[peakyswritings]

The Danger We Come From

CHAPTER III

A Peaky Blinders x Hunger Games crossover

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Nina Ferrante

Summary: It’s the second day of training for Lucas and Nora, and Nina’s making up strategies in order to keep them alive. Meanwhile, one of her worst memories comes to the surface.

Warnings: mentions of violence and killing, mentions of canon SA and forced prostitution, mentions of open wounds and blood, English is not my first language, no proofreading.

A/N: this chapter is kinda heavy, hence the reason why I disappeared and basically isolated myself from the world to write it. One part, although not fully described, is quite gruesome. Read carefully. Rose is @justrainandcoffee ‘s OC.

Nina Ferrante is the OC from my Tommy Shelby x OC series Heart, Body and Soul (set in canon times)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

AU MASTERLIST

72nd Hunger Games - District 9’s Apartments

Standing in front of the mirror, Nina carefully applied a soothing balm over the reddened, stinging scar, gritting her teeth. It had been less than a year since the wound had reopened, after the Victory Tour, meaning it still hadn’t healed properly. The left side of her face often felt numb, and on some mornings the itching and burning threatened to make her lose her mind. That was one of those mornings.

She had got it during her last fight, in the Arena, moments before she stabbed the Career boy to death, directly staining her hands with blood for the first and last time. A gruesome reminder of what the Capitol had turned her into.

She couldn’t even bear to look in the mirror, sometimes. But that disappeared when she remembered that scar was all that stood between her and the Capitol. It wasn’t easy on the eye, too nasty to be looked at. They wanted pretty faces.

The Capitol - Two weeks after Nina’s Victory Tour

A special invitation, they had said. Only for the most loved victors. That statement had made Nina raise her eyebrows. She wasn’t sure she was exactly loved by the Capitol. During her speeches, not once had she praised the Capitol or President Snow as it was customary, not once had she let a smile crack her hardened expression, or laughed at Caesar’s poor attempts to make a joke during the interview. No, she probably wasn’t one of the most loved victors. It wasn’t like she had a choice, though. That wasn’t an invitation, that was an order, no matter how nicely extended.

Walking next to the man who had been delegated to escort her, Nina took in her surroundings. The Grand Hall was buzzing with people, yet the atmosphere was quite different from the festive one she had been immersed into at the parties she had been forced to join during the Victory Tour. It didn’t take her long to guess that the men and women there all belonged to the same limited circle of people. They talked among themselves in business-like tones, holding glasses of champagne in their hands, taking looks around the room from time to time.

But they weren’t the only people there. Squinting her eyes, Nina was able to spot a few familiar faces. In the right corner of the room, talking to an old man, there was a guy who seemed to be in his 20s, with tanned skin and brown curls. On the other side, a blonde girl with a bright smile was entertaining a couple. They were victors. She remembered watching the guy’s Games the year of her first reaping, and the young woman was one of District one’s mentors. A heavy feeling settled in her stomach as she noticed the strange look the the guy’s eyes, and how forced the girl’s smile was.

“Why are we here again?” She furrowed her eyebrows, turning to look at her escort, but her question was left unanswered as he didn’t even look at her. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

Whatever that thing was, it wasn’t a simple event. A mixture of dread and realisation fell upon her when one of the victors walked out of the room with an older woman by his side, entering a corridor she hadn’t noticed before. Only now was she starting to put the pieces together. The secret invitation, the lack of answers, and ultimately the way they had dolled her up for the occasion, with a satin little dress and a bow in her hair. Nina had never believed in anything, yet in that moment she found herself praying to whatever might be up there that her suspicions were wrong.

She could run away. She was fast, and no one would expect it. She could say that she needed to go to restroom, and find a way out. She could…

“Ever taken a man, love?” A gravel voice reached her ears, violently snapping her out of her thoughts, and her heart dropped at those words. A man who looked like he might’ve been in his fifties was now standing in front of her, his eyes piercing through her.

Thinking, hoping, she had misheard what he had said, Nina glanced at her escort, but again he didn’t even set his gaze on her. “What?” She stammered, her lower lip trembling.

“I said - have you ever taken a man?” The man repeated enunciating his words, a hint of impatience in his tone.

Nina took a step back, her heart hammering in her chest, her hands shaking. Unable to utter a single word, she just shook her head. The man reached his hand out and grabbed her chin in his fingers, taking a good look at her, and a shiver of disgust ran down her back at the contact. She hoped he’d notice the scar on her face, that it would turn in away, but she knew that wouldn’t happen. The surgeons had made a very good job with her, turning a ragged slash into a barely noticeable white line.

After what felt like an eternity, the man nodded to himself. “You have a pretty face,” he murmured, letting go of her chin to twirl a lock of her dark hair between his fingers.

No. No, please, no.

Putting his hands in his pockets, he casually turned to her escort. “How much do you want for me to break her in?”

-

Sitting in the bathtub with her knees drawn up, Nina blankly stared at an indefinite point in front of her. She had scrubbed her skin until it reddened and itched, and even that wasn’t enough to cancel the feeling of that man’s hands and body on her. Sore and with her head throbbing, too exhausted to think and with no tears left to cry, she just wished she could close her eyes and make everything go away. Instead, what happened kept on replaying in her mind, not allowing her a moment of peace.

Ever taken a man, love?

Resting with her chin on her knees, she squeezed her eyes shut, digging her nails in her own arms. A shudder went through her. She just wanted to go home.

How much do you want for me to break her in?

Nina only hauled herself out when the water went cold, and mechanically wrapped a towel around her body. When she opened a cabinet to search for a toothbrush among all the items that the room offered, something else caught her eye. A razor.

You have a pretty face.

A terrible idea started to make its way into her head, waking her up from the sort of trance she had fallen into a couple of hours ago. She grabbed the razor and turned it in her hand, before raising her gaze to look at herself in the mirror. She observed the thin, white line that crossed the left side of her face, from her eyebrow to her cheek, and her surgeon’s words resounded in her head. We fixed your face. No one would stand to look at you otherwise.

Nina’s heart started to race at the realisation of what she was considering to do, and she wondered if she’d actually be able to do something like that to herself. It was frightening how that idea, in all its atrocity, brought her a faint sense of comfort. No one would use her again, not like that.

Impulsively, she grabbed the first heavy item she found and used it to smash the razor. Once she managed to extract one of the small blades, she looked in the mirror again. She just had to be careful to avoid her eye.

She took a ragged breath, taking a moment to convince herself that it was the only thing she could do, that she wasn’t hurting herself, she was protecting herself. That going through what she had just gone through again and again would be way more painful. Tightly holding the edge of the sink, she raised the blade to her face, her hand shaking uncontrollably.

It was the only thing she could do.

The excruciating pain and the crimson blood staining the ceramic sink as she dragged the blade along the scar only added to the horrors of that night, and still they were nothing compared to the shame and disgust that man had imprinted on her. She never talked about it. Whenever someone asked about her face, she simply answered that the wound had reopened, and no matter how fake it sounded, people never inquired further. Because believing a bad lie was easier than handling a truth even nastier than that scar.

Nina put the balm back in the cabinet, recollecting herself. It was in the past, she had closed the door on it. Now she had a job to do, and she couldn’t afford to lose focus. It was the second day of training for Lucas and Nora, meaning that they only had two days to practice what they were good at and learn something new. And they had to be ready for the scores, the interviews, anything that could convince the sponsors that they were worth betting on.

At the breakfast table, Nina played with the food in her plate while thinking about a way to get some sponsors for the kids. She wasn’t exactly popular among the Capitol citizens, and she wasn’t the most charismatic person either. But there must be something she could do to convince them that Lucas and Nora had a chance to win. She made a mental note to focus on the kid’s skills that day, so that she could use them in their favour. Lucas had his strength, which was valuable, but Nora’s skills involved basic survival, and that didn’t appeal to the sponsors. Although she could use the situation to her own advantage and not become a target, something told Nina that wouldn’t be enough. They needed all the help they could get.

Meanwhile, the kids talked with Rose about the interview’s costumes. She was sweet with them, and it was clear that talking about how beautiful they would look was a way to take their minds off all the ugliness. That was something that Nina couldn’t understand, a year prior. She thought that just like everybody else working for those damned Games, she was eager to put on a show. But it didn’t take her long to figure that wasn’t the case. Now she could see that all that apparent shallowness and excitement were nothing but an act, and that there was much more behind the mask she wore everyday.

Elle was very much engaged in the conversation, too, as talks about fine fabrics and elaborate clothes were like music to her ears. While Nina’s first impression of Rose had drastically changed, after a whole year Elle still had a way of getting on her nerves. She wasn’t mean, but sometimes she felt just too empty headed, as if the fact that the kids she was escorting were being sent to their deaths never crossed her mind. The first time Nina had found herself in the same room as her, she had wondered if there was even a single thought behind those eyes. However, it was safe to say she had grown to tolerate her more, and that her urge to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her had become a lot easier to resist.

Eventually, Nina came to the conclusion that for Nora it would be best to refine her trap building skills for the training scores. If she was quick and the trap was good, she could make quite the impression on the sponsors. In the meantime, she would do anything in her power to help the kids win over the Capitol citizens. If the right people decided to support them, it would drastically increase their chances. Because things like medicine, covers and more weapons did make a difference, and only sponsors could provide them. And if one of them won the Games, she’d make sure that he or she wouldn’t go through what she had to go through. She’d strike a bargain, she could do it.

Because an ugly scar wasn’t the only thing Nina had gotten that horrible night. She got a secret. A very valuable one, one that would put a target on Coriolanus Snow’s back, and turn all of his entourage against him. That secret might cost her her life, but it was a price she was willing to pay if it meant to watch Snow fall.

NEXT CHAPTER

@call-sign-shark @justrainandcoffee @evita-shelby @emotionalcadaver

#peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fics #tommy shelby fic #tommy shelby x oc #hunger games au

[txschainsaw]

I've never posted here on tumblr before, so bare with me since I'm more used to making my roleplay posts on discord or reddit (and sometimes Amino) so this is a bit new to me, but I'm hoping someone would be interested in roleplaying with me, I can provide my discord handle below for anyone!

I'm nineteen years old, and I'm looking for someone my age and up. Since I don't roleplay with people under eighteen, I'm also looking for partners who love history or who are in the same fandoms as I am, who also writes to the discord character limit and beyond that sometimes, someone who's semi literate to advanced literate like I am and someone I can mirror the length of my replies off :] most of my roleplays include NSFW so please be comfortable with writing that! I also write M x F with me playing Female, M x M and I'd love to try out some F x F!

The fandoms I'm in consist of -

House of the dragon, game of thrones, texas chainsaw massacre, Halloween, my bloody valentine, Fallout four, my little pony (gen 4 and 5), my little pony equestria girls, minecraft story mode, jurassic park, ATSV/ITSV, Star wars, Call of duty modern warfare (two and three), Avatar (the blue ppl, sorry for any ATLA fans), Peaky blinders, Vikings, Narnia, AC Valhalla, AC odyssey, Marvel, The walking dead (show and game), Hetalia, Hamilton, BBC Ghosts, Yonderland, How to train your dragon, Our flag means death, Clone High and possibly many many more.

The fandoms I've put in red are the ones I'd really like to roleplay within, especially MLP with an infection AU I've been brewing! The ones in orange are ones I'm happy to roleplay!

With Historical roleplays I do want to try a time travel plot I've had on the mind, if anyone is interested in that I beg send me a message! I love time travel plots and it goes hand in hand with my love for writing historical figures x ocs! I'm super into world war two and want some more M x M roleplays with my oc Kurt and my newer oc Lucien, but I'd also love and F x F roleplay with my pilot oc Brunhilde but I'd also be happy with M x F for Brunhilde, most of my oc's play a submissive role in the bedroom, besides Brunhilde who is more dominant in the bedroom with men (more submissive with women) I have so many plots I can bring up for WW2 but I'm into more historical eras then that (most would be with historical figures however)

My discord ; maryon_a_crossss

If you're interested in oc x Canon, oc x oc, or historical figures x oc, please feel free to message me. My DMs are always open! ♡♡ Thank you for reading!

#1 x 1 roleplay #1 x 1 rp #1 x 1 discord #roleplay #historical rp #roleplay search #roleplay partner search #m x m #m x f #historical figures #slashers #fandom roleplay #double up rp #oc x canon #oc x oc #discord

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi!! Feel free to add or change anything!! Can I please request a (John lives au🥺) Tommy Shelby x Mutant!fem!reader (X-Men/Peaky Blinders crossover) where she is a mutant that is a part of the X-Men and She can control the Earth’s 4 elements (fire, ice, wind and earth) and has telekinesis. The X-Men have to travel back in time to various points (in order to stop something bad in the future), each mutant going to a different time (like if Days of Future Past mixed with Endgame), and Y/n goes back to the time to the Peaky Blinder’s time and runs into the Shelbys while she’s trying to stop something happening that will badly effect the future? I can so imagine Thomas, John, Arthur, and Finn trying to bring her in for questioning after finding her snooping, but she kicks their butts because she has world saving to do lol😂😂 After a while spent with the Shelbys/Blinders, she ends up not wanting to go back to her time because She and Tommy fell in love?

I would imagine they would be pretty shocked to find out about mutants and time travel 🧭

Thank you so much for this request! I was unsure about how I would wrangle the two stories together as they are my two favorite fandoms. This was true labour of love. I hope it's what you were looking for. I honestly had to write it in chunks. I could have put together a full novel about the ideas I had.

Hope you enjoy bestie! XO

Summary: Reader is a mutant who has to follow her family back into Erik's past to save the world. She accidently falls back into Birmingham 1920's surrounded by the Peaky Blinders, which happens to be her favorite TV show....

It sounds tacky when I put it like that but I promise it works.

Rated - Teen: Heart break. So much pain, but also so so so much fluff. Mentions of death, grief, major character death of sorts, mentions of violence, mentions of Nazi Germany.

If you don't follow the X-Men it pretty much just reads as a time travel romance fic

Things had gone from bad to very very bad in a short span of time.

Six months ago Magneto went rogue again. Leaving the X-Men to make a more aggressive stance against the new mutant legislations that were coming into action.

That’s the exact moment we went from bad to worse.

The government was ready for the attack and used it as an opportunity to strike against him hard with their new weaponry. They now had these freaky gigantic robots trying to hunt us down. They hadn’t yet found out the location of the school but you and everyone else knew that the days were becoming limited.

Like most of Charles and Erik's fights, everything ended with Erik outside the front door looking defeated. Charles sobered up and they were back to being a power couple ready to save the world.

The two of them had sat down tracing back through time to the exact points in history that lead us all here. You sat in Charles' study looking between him, Erik, and the overwhelming bulletin board. It was covered in pictures, letters, maps, and a lot of rainbow yarn you feared had come from your personal collection.

“That better not be my roll of rainbow yarn.” You said sternly, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

“World is ending bub, keep it focused.” Logan said, looking as unimpressed as you felt.

“Alright. We don't have much time so I appreciate everyone's undivided attention.” Charles said in his most calming teacher voice.

“Here is a list of what's expected of you.” Erik said sternly and you thanked him as he handed you your individual paper. You quickly looked it over and internally started to freak out. It was all about Europe in the late 1930’s…

The meeting went into full swing and it did nothing to make you feel better. They expected the people in this room, your family. To divide and be sent back in time to fix certain events leading to the current weaponry that was about to destroy mutant kind, and potentially the whole world.

You were shaking by the end of it. Everyone cleared out, there was three hours till go time. Erik called you to stay and you watched him motion Charles out of the room.

You looked at him and resisted the urge to throw a temper tantrum. Erik and Charles had become something like parents to you over the many years you’d been here. Erik was someone you were especially close with, and he fucking left. He fucked this all up. Deep down you knew it was for the better that he had forced the government's hand, it gave you time to prepare this seven layer dip of a plan to stop them.

But still he left you here. He might not be your actual father but your heart didn’t know the difference.

He looked at you with eyes that tore into your soul.

“I know I fucked up but please understand, if I thought there was any possible thing I could have done but leave. I would have. I won’t have you, Peter, and Wanda in a camp. I just wont.” His voice was dripping with poorly concealed emotion making his accent thicker. Suddenly you burst, you wished this confrontation didn't happen right before you needed to have your shit together. You went over to him and wrapped your arms around him tightly. You didn't need to say anything because he knew he was forgiven.

“You're going back to Germany, when I was little.” These words hurt him even more and you held him tighter. “It’s not a very happy place. But look at me.” You did as you were told, looking up into his blue eyes. “You come home safe to me.” He said it in German and you couldn't help the tears that started to fall.

“I put everything down on that list. You keep it close.”

“I will.” You responded back in German. Now you knew why you were picked for this. Trying to meddle with Nazi Germany was a task better suited for someone like Logan, who had actually fought there. Not that he would remember it though..

“You're a smart kid, I have no doubts in my mind that you're capable of this” Charles said entering the room, having read your mind. With the current climate you didn't chew him out for it. Erik held you tighter for a moment, then let you go after placing a kiss to your forehead.

They were asking you to be tough and strong yet they were tearing you up with all this affection. Erik cleared his throat and grabbed a thick leather notebook.

“Take this too. Forgive some of the more personal stuff. It was from my life after the war but it has some stuff about what happened during. Thought it better to send you with too much than not enough.” You accepted the book and nodded at him sadly.

“I have to go and apologize to the others now. But I’ll see you again before you go. Let me know if you think of any questions.” He strode out of the room and you silently said a prayer that your family would all make it back safe.

Charles gave you an empathetic stare before giving you a big hug.

“I love you. We love you.” He said softly.

“I love you both too.” You thought to him in your mind.

Then it was time for the action. You had similar, rather tense emotional moments with your adoptive siblings and other members of the team.

Even Wade came over and gave you a big hug.

“You give ol Adolf an extra one between the eyes for me kid.” Somehow his mask winked at you and you gave him a nod and a sad smile.

They had you in a cotton layered outfit that was surprisingly accurate to the time period which was good. The last thing that 1930’s Europe was ready for was you in one of your brothers stolen Led Zeppelin T-shirts and a pair of mom jeans.

You held your leather purse close to your side and mentally ran through everything inside. You weren't allowed to take much outside of the notebook and list from Erik. You realized that in a few short moments you would be in a whole other world, with no money and every single person you knew wouldn't be reachable.

You would be completely alone.

They got you sorted into the machine and you watched as Erik and Charles both watched your body disappear with a pain that only parents could feel when their children were about to go far away for the first time.

Everything went dark. Suddenly you felt like you had a horrible case of the bed spins. You tried to relax but you had to force every breath of air into your lungs.

Then suddenly you were in an old alleyway. Two large brick buildings were on either side of you with people's laundry above your head. Why they had laundry out in this damp weather was beyond you.

Gunshots rang out in front of you and collided with a man standing further down the alleyway.

Oh Fuck

You watched his body crumple, but what could you do? You could see he was dead and you resisted the urge to rush over and help. That would only draw attention to yourself when what you needed to do was keep a low profile.

Two very tired, but well dressed men emerged from the fog and looked at you standing there.

Normally you wouldn't feel afraid but your body felt different, like your powers were still slightly out of reach.

“You didn't see nothin!” One of them exclaimed in a very British accent, while pointing a gun at you. You nodded in agreement, turning on your heel making your way down the alleyway.

“You can't just let her go. Tommy will want to make sure she keeps ‘er fuck’in mouth shut.” The second man said a little bit too loudly. You picked up your pace.

“Tommy isn't going to care about some woman Arthur.”

“What if she’s with ‘em though, she might know something.” The second man only let out a long string of cuss words.

“Eh! Miss. Don’t move.” You stopped because you knew that he had a gun to your back. You turned around slowly.

“By orders of the Peaky Blinders.” The taller one called out. The words cut through you like glass.

Peaky Blinders?! Like the show?! Oh no. no. no. no. This was very bad.

“Shut up Arthur”

They both came towards you leaving the dead man’s body long forgotten. You didn't resist them, mostly because you were in shock. They put you into the back seat of a car and you just looked around you. Birmingham. Blinders.

Damn, props to the casting manager, and to the costume people. Not to mention the prop people. This was like falling into the TV.

You were brought into the betting shop. It was really different from the show, but it still felt the same somehow.

Peaky Fucking Blinders

Speaking of fucking. The rather distressed man in front of you must have been Thomas Shelby.

Your face flushed and you tried to remind yourself that this was real life. Your family was out there doing their part, and somehow you’d fallen into the wrong time…

These people weren’t the ones you watched on TV with your dad, or stayed up reading fanfiction about. These were the real deal.

His eyes settled on you.

“What the fuck is this then?!” He shouted.

“She was in the alleyway with the Russian.”

“WHAT DO YOU KNOW?” He screamed at you and you jumped.

“I was just in the wrong place. I swear.” He looked at you with a piercing look, suddenly you really did hope that Cillian Murphy won hundreds of awards for his performance.

“You are lying. And I don't have time for lying.”

“We’ve got to get to the Train.” One of the men said, drawing his gaze away from you.

“Go, I’ll take her with me.”

You were pushed into another car, this time with Thomas driving.

“Look I know you know something I can feel it. Just tell me and I won't kill you.”

“I swear if I knew something I would tell you” You answered calmly.

“FUCK” He was driving recklessly and only started to push the car faster.

He got out and dragged you into a field where men had a tent and some kind of mining operation happening.

“Tommy there’s no way we are going to get through this quickly.”

“I need everything out by sunrise. They have Charlie.” The two men looked at each other and you assumed that Charlie must be very important to them.

“Don't let her out of your sight.” He motioned towards you before starting to strip down.

“What do you need to get out? I might be able to help.” You mentally kicked yourself, this was so Charles of you. Now was not the time nor the era to be using your mutant powers to help gangsters.

“How on earth are you going to help?” Suddenly you realized that you were by far the most powerful person in the setting. And probably the whole city. The shock was finally gone and you could feel the elements around you humming like you usually could.

“I can get you whatever you're digging for in less than five minutes, in exchange for information.”

The man he was talking to let out a laugh. But Tommy only stared at you with those perceptive eyes.

“Jewels, they are ten yards in that direction in an underground cellar.” As he spoke you could feel them vibrating exactly where he said they would be.

“Why am I doing this?” You asked him seriously. You didn't have time to play heist with them no matter how many hours you spent reading about it.

“Because they have my son” He looked desperate and it twisted up your heart.

“Take everyone out of the tunnel and have them turn away from me.” You instructed him and he gave the order. The men were looking at the two of you like he’d finally snapped. But they did as they were told.

You pushed your mind through the earth till you could feel the jewels. You moved the earth aside, extending the tunnel in one swift movement, then pulled the jewels through. Your feet met the ground again and you realised he didn't turn around. He stood there eyes wide with a stone-like expression.

The guy just watched you levitate and saw your eyes glow brown and bright white. But still he just looked at you like he always knew you’d been a part of this world.

You used your powers to place all the loot into the bag in his hand.

“Thank you.” You could see in his eyes that he meant it.

“What year is it?”

“1928”

“Fuck!” You were going to be stuck here for at least ten plus years. Panic washed over you.

“Help me get my son?”

“Sure” you answered realising you had all the time in the fucking world to chase Tommy around.

In the span of a few short hours you’d rescheduled someone’s abortion, helped the father of that baby kill his molester, rescued what might be the cutest baby ever if not for the horrible hair cut, and stopped some kind of train from exploding.

For some reason this made some Russians very mad. So you’d handled that too.

Now you were sitting in Thomas Shelby’s kitchen with a glass of whiskey in your hand as he held his sleeping child in his arms.

“What are you?”

“Pretty sure I just did all the heavy lifting so I could ask the big questions” You didn't mean to be that sassy with him, the man looked like absolute shit, but the smallest smile crept onto his face. That stupid smile pushed that soft spot in your heart a little. You let out a long sigh.

“I am a mutant from the future. I can control the elements earth, water, fire, air, and I can move objects with my mind.” You added more whiskey to the glasses with your mind, watching him struggle to contain his expression. “I have to stop something horrible from happening in Nazi Germany.”

“Nazi’s?” He rolled the word around in his mouth. “I don't know much about mutants.”

“I didn't think you would.” You said with a small smile.

“And you know me well then?” He asked with a raised brow.

“In some ways I feel like I do, but deep down I know that I really don’t” He studied you for a moment and you saw the many questions burning in his eyes.

“How about this. You help me with the Nazi’s when the time comes, and I’ll help you as much as I can until then” He thought about it, eyes making your skin burn.

“But I’m not in control of when they pull me back so I could just disappear at any moment.”

“Deal.” He took a sip of whiskey.

“You must be tired, but I’m also happy to answer questions if you have any.” Really you just didn't want this to end. Any second Hank could realise his mistake, you hated yourself for it, but you wanted this to last for a bit.

You expected him to be tired, and worn out after everything. Instead he asked you questions about your abilities, the future. All the stuff you’d expect. He said his mother had told him about people like you when he was small, that’s why he didn't doubt you.

You told him that he was remembered in the future very well. A blush crept onto your face, embarrassed and slightly guilty about all the thoughts you’d had about him. Well fictional him anyway.

This only pushed him to want to know about it. So you told him that there was a television show about his family that you were very fond of. You gave a brief description of film and television.

“And you like me in that show?” He asked.

“Ah, yeah. You could say that.” But the burn on your cheeks gave you away.

“Hmm and the man that acts out my character, he’s alright?”

“Oh yeah. He does a good job.” You could feel the amusement rolling off of him.

________

Weeks passed and Tommy adjusted to having you live with him. These were hard weeks for you as you were worried sick about being stuck here while your family was across time and space potentially being murdered or imprisoned.

It was the kind of stress that led to a lot of nightmares. Nightmares that had the potential to shake the whole house…

After the first two times of him tearing into your room waking you up and holding your shaking body tightly, he recommended you just sleep next to him.

One tremor he could blame on an earthquake, two tremors - well stranger things had happened, but the superstitious maids were starting to get uneasy. Three tremors and he was sure they would assume the place was haunted by his late wife.

You took him up on his offer feeling very embarrassed every single piece of “there was only one bed” fanfiction you’d read flashed before your eyes as you laid there next to him.

Strangely enough you both slept better like that. Till one morning you woke up tangled in his sleeping body. That was an incident that led to a lot of kissing. Then courting. Then a full blown affair.

He often asked you about the various stories you’d read and written about him. Laughing at how sappy you made him, teasing you about it relentlessly.

_________________

Family was an interesting aspect of your time here. You missed yours so badly that you tried to insert yourself into his every moment you could.

You laughed and learned a lot from the women you became so close with.

When you looked back on it you’d like to think that you helped them all get along better just as much as they helped you grow up. Little Fin and Charlie looked up to you as some sort of God. Too wise to be an older sibling, and not strict enough to be a mother. It broke your heart knowing that eventually you’d leave them potentially without even getting the chance to say goodbye.

This prompted you to write out a notebook much like your fathers. Something to leave them with. Nothing about the future, but just love for them. Stuff they could read when they were in need of comfort. From what you knew of the up and coming war they would need it. You had birthday cards written out for the children till each of them turned 60.

_________

A year had passed and while you missed your family dearly. You had lots of daily tasks to keep up on providing for your family here. Between the family and Tommy you rarely stood still long enough to be sad.

Tommy proposed to you in the woods behind the house. You knew a public wedding and engagement wasn't possible with your potential to leave at any moment.

After trying to convince him otherwise you agreed.

A secret wedding was held in the fall with only your closest family.

_______________________

Ten years passed and you helped Tommy try to take out the British Nazi Party while also getting ready to travel to Germany.

The clock was ticking on your life here and the time had come to put the future world above what your heart wanted.

Tommy could feel it coming and took every possible moment he could spare to be around you. Both of you desperately clinging to what pieces of happiness you could hold onto before it was all ripped away.

You warned him about the stalk market crashes and about every part of the up and coming war and future that might impact the family.

_______________________

Then it was go time. The family sent you off with heavy hearts, only Polly and Tommy understood the task that lay heavily on your shoulders.

Tommy insisted on accompanying you as far as possible. You already knew that he fully intended on staying with you the whole time. You could always tell when he was lying.

You left him sleeping in a hotel just before you’d reached Germany. The morning light sprawled across his tattooed skin. You looked at the arms that carried you from being a child into becoming a woman. The hands that helped shape you and showed you how to overcome your worst fears. You’d stolen 12 years of this man's life, 12 years he should have been settling down with a wife and a mother for his child.

12 years of laughing all night, dancing in the kitchen, yelling with his family, night walks in the woods, more sex than you thought humanly possible, murder, money, gabling, horse races, drinking, and cocaine. All of it was about to be ripped away.

You shut the door leaving him a letter saying goodbye. Explaining everything, and how you were leaving him there to protect him. You told him where to find the many journals you’d written and the letters for his family.

Then you were off to find Shaw.

___________________________

It was a horrible task, you watched Erik’s mother, someone he said watched over you with the tender gaze only a grandmother could manage, die. Your heart broke there and you hoped that Erik was right, that she did watch over you and your siblings, that she understood why you let her body crumple to the ground.

You couldn't kill Shaw, or Hitler. Something that would weigh on your consciousness for the rest of your life. All the power to stop some of the most horrible things in history, and you had to walk away.

That didn't mean you couldn't raise hell though. You did what you were instructed to, passed the appropriate information on to the right people.

Freed as many Jews as you possibly could on the side…..

But no one needed to know about that.

You eventually rescued Erik, and saw the full extent of how Shaw had mutilated him. You comforted him and gave him the instructions he would need.

Despite him being a boy, and receiving an impossible amount of information about his future he still grabbed your arm before you left him there.

“Are you my daughter?” He looked so hopeful. The promise of a child meant the promise of a home, and true love.

You didn't have the heart to tell him that his wife and first daughter would be murdered in front of him. Or that I would fall into his lap as an orphan desperately in need of a father, that his two biological children would be kept from him till they were in their early twenties. The amount of collateral damage and problem fixing he had ahead of him. Not to mention his on and off again relationship that had caused the world to end more times that any other threat to the planet. A part of you wanted to. but Future Erik made you swear you wouldn't.

“You are a good father. Just keep your head up.” You kissed his forehead like he had done countless times to you. And left the freshly mangled boy in a hotel bed in a foreign country just like you’d left your husband a few short weeks ago.

__________

The task was filled but you didn't instantly fly back to the present day. So you got on a train back to Birmingham to spend whatever last sliver of time you had left next to your husband. After all the horrible things you had seen, the only thing you wanted, the only thing that could put you back together, was your husband's arms. You desperately wanted to fall apart, but you kept it together out of hope.

You wanted one last kiss.

You stepped off the train platform in Birmingham. One body amongst the busy sea of people, you looked at the train platform and it was the last thing you saw of your life there.

________

Horrible bed spins, and suddenly you were back in the basement of the mansion. Everyone was present, looking just the same as it had been 12 fucking years ago.

You immediately fell to your knees. Your body twisted in at the harsh realization that it was finally all over. A sob ripped through your chest as you crumpled to the floor. Erik’s hands reached you first as your family frantically tried to figure out if you’d been injured.

You wanted to tell them that it was only your heart being broken. That your mind was slowly fracturing into a million unrepairable pieces. A valuable part of you was left in Birmingham and your body didn't know how to breathe or pump blood without it.

You prayed for death. You realised that the words tumbled out of your mouth between sobs. Begging them to let it kill you. That you didn't want to live in a world without him.

____________

Time passed and it didn't kill you. Eventually you came to terms with the fact that if you died, they would only kick your ass right back into existence. The Shelby family fought as hard as your family did to live in a world of opportunity like this and to give it up would be a disgrace on their names.

So you lived on. Charles, Erik, Peter, Wanda, and the whole team did everything they could to comfort you through the loss. Everyone else was sent back for about two days, so they stayed relatively the same.

You watched as your parents mourned the loss of their bubbly ambitious 20 year old, as she was now filled with a 32 year old depressed widow.

Suddenly you understood the pain that constantly ran through Erik’s veins. Logan’s constant night terrors searching for a red headed woman hit too close to home. Watching Wade’s fists clench every time someone with long black hair walked by. It all made too much sense. The new awareness of grief had exposed you to how the people around you truly lived their lives.

Charles had bought Arrow House for you, hoping it would ease the pain. Something physical from that time to hold on to. The place was going to be demolished, and you were very grateful he had thought to look for it before it was lost like everything else.

Eventually you had to visit his grave.

Erik stood by the gates of the cemetery while you walked along trying to find him. It was a crisp autumn day much like the day you married him. And there he was, black marble with gold lettering.

What was left of the man that used to hold you every night lay six feet below you.

His tombstone was brief, and classy much like himself. But in small letters at the bottom you saw the song lyrics of your favorite song engraved. Song lyrics you left in the journal you’d stashed for him.

He found it.

And buried next to him was his wife. You thought you would feel jealous, but relief washed through you. He was looked after, Charlie had a mum. His life ran its course with someone next to him in his bed every night.

He moved on so you could too.

#Peaky Blinders #X-Men #Peaky Blinders X-Men AU #Peaky blinders x X-men #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders AU #X-Men AU #X-Men Request #erik lensherr #Dadneto #charles xavier #SO MANY FUCKING FEELS MAN #I don't know how to tag this! #X-Men fic #X-Men oneshot #x men days of future past #X-Men request

[johnshelbysbabygirll]

MASTERLIST

Sean Wallace

1. Dating him

John Shelby

1. Snowball fight

2. Demons

3. Falling

4. Peace

5. Happy place

6. Saturday night

7. For the rest of this life

8. Not really good at it

9. Your decision

10. Our secret

11. First bullet

12. No place like home

13. Lost without you

14. Christmas with the Shelbys

15. Don't trust anyone

16. Another love

17. Russian Roulette I

Russian Roulette II *smut!!*

Shelby's men:

1. How they say I love you for the first time

2. Their reaction to you getting hurt

Others:

1. The princess of the family - Shelby sis

2. Daddy's little girl - Thomas x Grace daughter

3. Scared to be lonely - Isaiah Jesus

#peaky blinders #john shelby #peaky blinders imagines #peaky fookin blinders #john x reader #john shelby imagines #reader x john #peaky blinders spoilers #johnxreader #peaky x reader #thomas shelby daughter #thomas x reader #thomas x grace #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders rp #peaky #incorrect peaky blinder quotes #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders men #sean wallace imagines #sean wallace #gangs of london imagines #gangs of london #shelby sister imagine #shelbys #shelby family #shelby little sister

[call-sign-shark]

So I have a question... I feel like domestic Jack and Lilith would have a doggo. But I can't narrow it down. I know that Tommy has Cyril and Heaven and Arthur have Kaiser. I'm fairly sure John has Spaniels (which makes my heart melt a little). I wonder if Jack and Lilith should have either an akita, malamute, wolf dog, German shepherd, dalmatian or a husky? I'm trying to imagine the playdates the dogs would have. Anyway hope you're having a good start to your week?

This is an excellent question and I sincerely appreciate that you ask for my opinion. Before I answer properly I have to say that Cyril belongs more to @raincoffeeandfandoms Rose and Alfie than to Tommy in my mind. 🤣 Moreover imagining Tommy with Eva’s ( @evita-shelby ) chihuahua Xoco makes me wheeze.

Regarding your OC, the best dog would be the Dalmatian. First of all, it suits your character’s aesthetic one hundred percent. Second, it’s the breed that gives the more “rich and elegant” vibes. Third, Dalmatian are good hunting dogs with a lot of energy. Just look at how badass they are in the movie Cruella. And finally, I know we are all free to do whatever we want but, personally, I like to keep things a bit logical. For example the first version of Heaven was supposed to have a white wolf as a pet. But we are in England in 1920ish — I wanted to keep it a bit realistic*. Similarly, I can’t picture Jack Nelson having a wolfdog in his fancy home in America. I don’t even think it would please him (he’s too busy and it’s too high maintenance).

But this is my opinion of course. So, as a conclusion I’d choose the Dalmatian breed.

Eventually, the play date would be wild I guess? Kaiser is the giant guardian always at his Angel’s feet and he despises most of other humans — especially men. But with the other dogs he’s nothing but a gentle giant.

Hope it helps! Also thank you so much for your kind words dear. I hope you’ll have a wonderful week. 😊

*when I say realistic I know people can come at me and say “yeah but Heaven is a heartrender witch, this ain’t realistic”. True, but I’m not using her abilities to solve every problem and make Deus Ex Machina moves. It’s more a problematic/issue to consider than a solution to all the Shelby’s problem. Moreover I don’t like creating “God mode” characters. + Peaky Blinders AU hints at supernatural forces.

• Heaven is reader in the series Arthur x Reader!OC Heaven in Your Eyes. Why not give it a read?

#Heaven Shelby #Shark Talks #Arthur Shelby x OC #Peaky blinders #Kaiser the Disaster

[mischiefmanaged71]

In This Moment (4)

Summary: A single moment can spark a magnificent change in a person’s life.

A/N: Peaky Blinders AU, Ewan Mitchell OC x fem!reader

Y/N got out of the shower, wrapping the towel around herself tightly. She moved into her bedroom, gathering her outfit to change as she hummed softly to herself. Several thoughts on her to-do list were prominent at the front of her mind as she dressed, hanging the towel over the screen. She put on her slip dress when she remembered her forgotten earrings on the bathroom counter just as her bedroom door opened. 

Her eyes widened as she saw Will. “What are you doing?”

He quickly recovered, lowering his gaze. “I knocked, but there was no answer.”

“I-I was in the shower.” she quickly replied, coughing. “It's fine. What is it?"

“At least your being non-chalant about it.” Will crossed his arms against his chest.

“I can shout at you to get out if that’d be more suitable?"

He grinned, leaning against the doorway, “I’m perfectly fine where I’m standing.” Her face flushed at the comment, moving to slip her gown on. She turned back around, seeing Will’s gaze fixed.

"It's far from appropriate."

"What is?"

"Standing in my doorway."

"You're dressed now, aren't you?"

She tilted her head, "I suppose. Most men wouldn't even bother looking away."

"I'm not like most men."

She hummed, nodding. He certainly wasn't.

"Part of my job is understanding people's motivations. Their way of thinking. There's still things I don't know about you. That's what makes you different."

"I like having that bit of mystery. Draws in all kinds of people." He stepped in front of her.

"And what type are those?"

Her breath picked up as Will leaned down, "The interested parties... the desired kind."

"And women actually buy into it?" She raised her eyebrows.

He wore a smirk, tilting his head. "You did."

Y/N bit her lip to hold back the remark waiting on her tongue. Her hands perched on the bed post, not noticing how Will had pushed her backward with his steps. Her heart thundered in her chest as he grew closer.

"Why did you come in here?"

Will relented, blinking at her. “Arthur called. Said he’ll bring the car round in a half hour.”

“Okay.” she nodded, "I'll need to change." confirmed as Will stood still, holding her gaze. “Are you gonna shut the door?”

Will paused before he finally responded. “Course. I’ll leave you to it.” 

The breath trapped in her throat finally left. The matter of her flustered state became an apparent problem as she raised a hand to her warm face. She just needed to get through today without any further stress. 

***

People filed in and around her, the sounds of conversation and cheer bustling around with the thrill of the races. She stood close to Arthur, Will practically glued to her side as they navigate the crowd.

"Seems busier than usual today."

"A new record, I'd say." Walking into a stand with seats.

"When's Tommy expecting us?"

"Dunno, but there's Finn and Isaiah." Arthur pointed out.

"Lads look like trouble, that's for sure." Will murmured, his words reaching her ears as he walked beside her.

"And you don't?"

"I used to." He replied, "Then I grew out of it."

"What'd you used to do?"

"Wander round at night. Grab a drink with mates. We'd get up to some crazy things."

"Assuming you're not going to elaborate." She mused.

"Oh, it wouldn't be a proper conversation here."

Her eyes followed his gesture below to the group, wide grins on their faces as they nudged each other. "Best they stay there. Let 'em have their fun."

"They're on the job." Arthur grumbled.

"I thought you'd agree with me." She smiled, settling in her seat, Will scanning their proximity.

"Normally, but I suppose there are other priorities today. Boys'll need their heads screwed on for it."

"What kind of priorities are we talking about?" She whispered, staring at the crowd. “Where's Tommy?”

Arthur paused, "He’s got some other business to deal with today. I can guarantee it's not gonna be pretty."

She pursed her lips. "And he didn't think to mention it?"

"It was a need to know basis. Not everyone needs to know."

"I'm not everyone, am I?" She narrowed her eyes.

"No. But we need you safe. The fewer people that know, the better."

"When it comes to me, you and Tommy love to pick and choose. I thought you trusted me with things as part of this family-"

"Come on, Y/n/n. Enough with that. We trust you with plenty, but this-not when it puts you in danger." Arthur cut her off."

She hummed with a tight smile. "I get it. I get all the special treatment, and you blokes get to know everything."

"You know that we do things to protect you. It's the reason we entrusted Adler to take care of you. I think he'd agree." Arthur noted pointedly, glancing at the man as he watched but remained silent on the matter.

"I think I need the lady's room." She stood up, wandering off. It was on her way back from the lavatory that she bumped into a man. An apology fell from her mouth as she skirted around them before a hand gripped her wrist.

"You've got to watch where you're goin', sweetheart."

"I said sorry. It was an accident." Tugging on her wrist as his grip tightened.

He chuckled, "I reckon I can think of other ways you can make it up to me."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." She deadpanned, wrenching her wrist from his grip. A gasp escaped her as he forcefully pulled on her arm, wrenching her closely.

"That won't do at all." he sneered.

"Let go!" She yelled, but it was swallowed by the crowd noise. A pair of hands pushed at the man's chest, forcing them apart.

"Hands off, mate." Will stood in front of her, his figure cloaking her.

"Come on. Just havin' a bit of fun."

From her chest heaving to the feeling stirring in her stomach, it was certainly not.

"Don't think so. She clearly told you to get lost." Will stated, a mask of calm beneath his furious stare.

"And who are you?" The man stalked closer, "What? Not enough to share round?"

"I'll say this once. Walk away." He stared the man down.

"Or what? You gonna fight me?" He got into Will's space.

"I don't think it'd be much of a fight. You won't like that part." Will's voice was low.

"I don't know, I'd like to see that." The man touched Will's shoulder, but he twisted his hand, forcing the man to bend the knee.

"I don't think you do." Will leaned down, "Touch her or any woman again, and I'll make sure you can't use this hand. For anything. Got that?"

The man winced, staring Will down who smirked. He twisted, receiving another yelp before the man conceded. "Alright! Alright!"

"Apologise." 

"I'm sorry." The man croaked as Will shoved him.

"Now, piss off." 

Will turned around, quickly ushering her into a private space between the stands.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He placed a hand on her back, another on her shoulder to mould her body against him.

She shook her head. "I'm okay. Irritated, more than anything."

"I'm sorry." He whispered.

"What for?" She met his eyes, rubbing her sore wrist.

"I shouldn’t have left you alone."

"You can't be everywhere." She retorted, "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can, but my job is to keep you safe. If I can't do that, then I've failed."

"You did keep me safe. He didn't get a chance to do anything." Her hand grasped his shoulder, bringing his gaze down. "I'm okay because of you."

Will unclenched his jaw, nodding his head. "This isn't even the most dangerous job I've had."

"Do you think you'll stay?"

"Indefinitely." He stated, "Mr Shelby never specified an end period."

"If I'm being honest, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. It is nice- having the company."

"Yeah?" His voice with a teasing edge, “In what ways?”

"I mean," Y/N darted away from his smile, "I do feel a lot safer-with you, that is."

His face softened, "I'm glad."

She smiled, "You're good at your job, Will."

"I hope to keep it that way." His hand found the small of her back, "You sure you're alright?"

"I'm fine." She squeezed his hand, her smile easing the heaviness weighing over him. “Trust me.”

TAGS

@pearlstiare @dothrckis @aemonds-sapphire @xcharlottemikaelsonx @filipinamultifandom @padfooteyes @batsyforyou @yentroucnagol @cl-0-vr @viviartsy @h3k3t @arcana-greenleaf  @yummycastiel @lauraneedstochill @sasikanleesworld @theliterarybeldam @actualhawkesworld @ohitsthemaster @aemonds-wifey @stillinracooncity

#tom bennett #ewan mitchell #aemond #peaky blinders au #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #tom bennett x reader

[hornymagnets]

The year is 1921, the place, New York City. The United States is still riding the wave of victory after World War I, reigning supreme in a time period that would be later known as the Roaring 20s. It seems impossible that anything could stop the country from living a generation of success, but success comes in many forms. For some, success meant becoming an actor, a dancer, a singer, or settling down and raising a family. For others, it meant protecting the people after the war, joining the police force or entering the political arena. And yet, still more saw the United States as the land of opportunity; the opportunity to travel and start a new life, or the opportunity to get rich from illegal gambling and alcohol.

Welcome to The 20s Are Marvel-Ous rp server! A non-power Marvel AU server that allows your character to make a name for themselves in the highs and lows of New York City a hundred years ago. Whether you want to fight against the growing crime in the city, are impartial, or create a gang of your own, the choice is yours!

#marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #marvel comics #1920s #decade: 1920s #1920s au #gangster #mafia #x men #roleplay #avengers #the godfather #peaky blinders #discord #comics

[blinkybarnes]

100 prompts list

feel free to request with any character! and give me credit if you use this list :)

1.  “I can stand here all day!” 2.  “Your eyes are the colour of erm...er...mud?” 3.  “Where the fuck are we?” 4.  “I just love booping noses” 5.  “I promise I won’t do it again.” 6.  “I could say some cute shit like your eyes shine as bright as the stars, but             honestly I’m not that type of person.” 7.  “erm...I’m not sure.” 8.  “Can we fuck now?” 9.  A: “I was just sitting over there and I saw you-”      B: “and you wanted to tell me I’m beautiful?”      A: “...no, you have toilet paper hanging out of your trousers.” 10.  “I hate cats.” 11.  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 12:  “I love him/her with all my heart but sometimes I want to gouge his/her eyes          out!” 13:  “wow...I don’t care.” 14:  “That sounds like a Taylor Swift lyric.” 15:  “I hate the sight of blood.” 16:  “Stop acting like my mother!” 17:  “If you break my window I’ll kill you.” 18:  “What would you do if I was kidnapped?” 19:  “I still can’t believe you’re mine.” 20:  “Obviously.” 21:  “What!...This is an abomination!” 22:  “You betrayed me...” 23:  “Please let me help you.” 24:  “Stay up and watch the sun rise with me.” 25:  “Look, it was cheap...that’s all you need to know.” 26:  “Yes..wait no...actually...yes.” 27:  “Please don’t leave me.” 28:  “What do I tell the kids?” 29:  “There’s blood EVERYWHERE!” 30:  “I can’t cope without you.” 31:  “It was an accident.” 32:  “I have a confession to make...” 33:  “You’re unbelievable.” 34:  “What was that?” 35:  “I’d probably sacrifice you.” 36:  “You’re hands are always so smooth, I love it.” 37:  “I had a surprise for you but it kinda got ruined...” 38:  “I love you no matter what you do.” 39:  “This isn’t Fifty Shades of Grey!” 40:  “Fuck...you look so good.” 41:  “What did I ever do to deserve you?” 42:  “Is this what they call love?” 43:  “Don’t give me those puppy-dog eyes.” 44:  “I’m not really one for candle lit dinners.” 45:  “Is she/he better than me?” 46:  “ew...no.” 47:  “I was on TV once.” 48:  “Kiss me like you mean it.” 49:  “No need to be so bossy.” 50:  “Cuddle with me while we plan our future.” 51:  “Our first child will be named after me.” 52:  “Are you even sorry?” 53:  “I brought pizza and blankets.” 54:  “Leave me alone.” 55:  “You sound so cute when you say that.” 56:  “Don’t do anything illegal.” 57:  “Lets go camping in the garden.” 58:  “You’re so warm.” 59:  “Be safe.” 60:  “This isn’t how I pictured it.” 61:  “Only if you do too” 62:  “Can we start again?” 63:  “Don’t give me that bullshit.” 64:  “Bubble bath?” 65:  “Run away with me.” 66:  “Stay with me.” 67:  “Loving the dance moves!” 68:  “I’ll do anything to keep you safe.” 69:  “You give me butterflies.” 70:  “I’m scared.” 71:  “You lied.” 72:  “This isn’t going to work.” 73:  “I’ll keep you safe.” 74:  “There’s a baby?” 75:  “Stop playing games with me.” 76:  “I’ve changed.” 77:  “What about us?” 78:  “I’ve missed your voice.” 79:  “You don’t need to suffer in silence.” 80:  “Is this a dream?” 81:  “You’re hurting me.” 82:  “Ever since I first laid my eyes on you I knew you were my true love.” 83:  “This is all your fault.” 84:  “Tell me the truth.” 85:  “Don’t touch me!” 86:  “Please don’t cry.” 87:  “You’re stressing me out!” 88:  “Can you keep a secret?” 89:  “I need your help.” 90:  “Fuck you.” 91:  “I’ll be back before you know it.” 92:  “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.” 93:  “Will you marry me?” 94:  “You’re a mess but I love you.” 95:  “You left me.” 96:  “Are you flirting with me?” 97:  “Why are you in my room?” 98:  “I thought you were dead.” 99:  “I love you but don’t tell anyone.” 100:  “I like it when you do that.”

#prompt list #imagines #au #preferences #send requests #marvel #Harry Potter #multifandom #The 100 #blinkybarnes #peaky blinders #writing prompt #x-men #Avengers #hp #t100 #Bucky Barnes #peter parker

[mythos-writes]

Soulmates

Arthur Shelby x Solomons! Reader

Plot: Everyone has someone waiting for them. Arthur doesn’t believe that, but his soulmate mark gives him a little hope for the future… (Soulmate AU)

Word Count: 1842

Warning: Swearing, smoking, the typical Peaky Blinders warnings

Peaky Blinders Masterlist

I do not give permission for anyone to repost/ post my stories, with or without credit. Reblogs, comments, etc. are more than welcomed, but please DO NOT copy and paste my stories that you may like onto another platform.

Arthur was sitting in the Garrison, waiting for his brothers, with a whiskey in hand. He was jealous of his brothers and the relationships that they have. He sighs before downing the rest of his whiskey. He pulls his sleeve up, revealing the little image on his wrist. It was a little daisy. He always thought it was ridiculous, a big tough gangster having this little flower on his wrist, but whenever he was in these moods, looking down at it, gave him some hope that she is out there. He gently dragged his thumb over the soft lines. 

“I’ll find you soon my dear. Promise,” he whispers.

(Y/N) was walking around the bakery, with a handful of papers, needing to find her brother to sign them and or look them over. She looks up to see Ollie walking by. 

“Oi, Ollie, is Alfie free?” she asks, making her way to Alfie’s runner. Ollie looked over to the office before turning back to her. 

“He has company at the moment, but what are you needing,” he asks. (Y/N) groans at his words. She just wanted to go home at this point. 

“Just some stuff for him to look over. I might just barge into his office, whether he likes it or not,” she proposes, knowing that her brother can’t stay mad at her. 

“Well, Alfie might be fine with that, the Shelby’s might not appreciate it,” he points out. She just rolls her eyes. 

“They need to learn to get the sticks out of their asses sometimes,” she says, moving past him and towards the closed office door. 

“Alfie or the Shelby’s?” Ollie questions. “Both!” she yells over her shoulder. She gave a quick knock on the door before opening it. All four men turned to look at her. 

“What? It’s like you lot have never seen a woman before?” she teased. She closes the door behind her before walking toward Alfie, he was not impressed at her stunt at all.  

“(Y/N) what is so important that you have to come barging into my office when I am in a meeting?” he questions, trying not to throw his anger at her. 

“Just wanted to drop these off before I left for the day,” she comment, dropping the stack in front of him. She turned towards the three others, very shocked at what is happening. 

“Oh, silly me I forgot to introduce myself. I’m (Y/N) and I can see that you have met my brother here,” she says tilting her head towards a very pissed Alfie. Tommy was trying to hide his amusement at the dynamic between the two. 

“Well, now that I have made my daily quote of annoying my brother, I will bid you all a good rest of the meeting,” she says while making her way towards the door. She makes eye contact with who looks like the oldest out of the three Shelbys. She felt her wrist start to burn a little, but quickly ignored it and made her way out of the office.  

(Y/N) went behind one of the brewing drums and quickly rolled up her sleeve. She sees a rash surrounding the mark on her wrist. She gently stroked the small flower, trying to soothe the spot. She looked around, making sure no one would bug her in her confusion. 

A hand came on her shoulder, and she nearly jumped into one of the tanks. She quickly turned to see Ollie standing behind her. 

“Wow, are you ok?” he questions, concerned a little at her hasty actions. She looked back to the closed office door before making eye contact with him. Her actions scared Oillie a little, he had never seen her like this. 

“I think my soulmate is in that room,” she says gesturing towards the office. Ollie looked at her like she had three heads. 

“Wait are you serious,” she gives him an unamused look. “Yeah, and it's fucking Alfie. Of fucking course I’m serious,” she states nervously. 

“Ok, so who do you think it is?” he asks, trying to bring her back down. 

“I know it’s not Thomas, I would have known a while ago,” she thinks. “It wasn’t the younger one, John I think is his name,” she deciphers. 

“So it only leaves Arthur,” Ollie states. She points a finger at him. “Yeah, he’s the older taller one right?” Ollie nods at her words. “ We locked eyes and then this flared up,” she gestures to her wrist. Ollie gives her a smile before bringing her into a hug. 

“What is this for?” she questions but returns the hug anyway. 

“This is a good luck hug. For dealing with Alfie and the Shelby’s,” he says before releasing her and walking back to his work. 

She sighs, trying to regain her thoughts when she hears the office door open. (Y/N) peaked out of her hiding spot to see Arthur standing there, looking through, to try to find her. When their eyes met, it was like time stopped. He nodded his head to go outside, she nods before watching him go towards the front. (Y/N) collects herself before following her out. 

When she was greeted by the busy streets of Camden, she started to look for the older Shelby. A hand landed on her shoulder again, causing her to gasp and quickly turn around. She was greeted with a broad chest, a fine tailored suit, and shadowed eyes.

“Hello,” she says, very timidly. The woman that stands in front of Arthur is very different than the woman that barged into Alfie’s office without a care in the world. 

“Hello,” he replies, fiddling with his suit jacket. 

They stood there for a moment before he pulled up his sleeve, revealing his little daisy. She gently traces the delicate lines, feeling the sparks flow through her fingertips. (Y/N) rolled her up, showing the matching flower. His callused figures do the same actions that she just did before their gazes meet again. 

Arthur then brought her into a hug. She was shocked but quickly wrapped her arms around him. It felt like a dream, many sleepless nights, up thinking that this moment would never happen. The scent of whiskey and smoke filled her nose, not wanting to let go.  

“You’re real,” Arthur whispers, causing her heart to break a little. 

“I am real and I won’t be disappearing ever,” she states, moving away from his warm body a little, wanting to see his face. She moves her hand to gently cup his face, tracing her thumb along his cheek. They leaned closer, lips ghosting against each other.

“Arthur.” “(Y/N)” Alfie and Thomas call at the same time, breaking the little moment of happiness between the two. The two look back to their sibling, Thomas looking like he is almost holding back the Camden gangster. 

“What’s going on here?” Alfie questions. The two look between each other and then back to them. Tommy catches the matching marks and a smile crosses his stone face. 

“Um, Alfie, my friend, you will be seeing a lot more of Arthur and I’ll be seeing a lot more of (Y/N),” he states before gesturing to their marks. Alfie's eyes followed the line, seeing the matching flowers. 

“You got to be fucking kidding me,” he states walking back into the bakery. John walked over to the two and clapped Arthur’s back. 

“You found her! Told ya don’t give up,” he says with his usual cocky smile.

(Y/N) sat in the kitchen, fiddling with her wedding ring, waiting for Arthur to return home. He had spent the whole day at the Garrison, doing what he would normally do, while she stayed home and did house chores. They had been together for six months before Arthur popped the question. Then three weeks later they were having their weddings. They ended up having two ceremonies, one traditional Jewish wedding for her family and a more casual one for his. They decided that they would stay in Birmingham, much to Alfie’s dismay. 

The sound of the door clicking open brought her out of her mindless thoughts. She moved to the foyer to see Arthur placing his hat and coat on the rack. He looks over and meets her gaze. A smile grows across his face before walking closer to her. 

“Hello love,” he says, bringing her into his embrace. She nuzzles her head against his chest, welcoming his warmth. 

“I have a surprise for you,” she says, moving her head a little so she could look up at him. Arthur cocks an eyebrow at her. 

“A surprise?” she nods her head before pulling him into the kitchen. They walk in and a lidded box sits on the table. She nudges him forward to go open it. 

He reaches to open it, keeping his eyes on her instead of the box. (Y/N) nods before he pulls the lid off and looks in. All he saw were little boots in the massive box. He looks back up confused. 

“Think love, why would we need those small shoes,” she hints. It then hit Arthur like a gunshot. 

“You’re pregnant?!” he whispers. She nods, a smile never leaving her face. He stood there for a moment, just looking down at the little shoes. He then picked her up and twirled her around. 

“You’re pregnant! We are having a kid!” he proclaims happily. He hasn’t been this happy since the war. 

He places her back on the floor before bringing her into a deep kiss. 

“I love you so much,” he mumbles against her lips.

“We can tell everyone tomorrow,” she says in between kisses. He breaks the kiss and just stares down at her. His mind finally caught up with the information that she had dropped on him. She places her hand against his cheek, bringing him back a little. 

“What if I am a terrible father? What if I turn into my father?” he quietly questions. She shakes her head, tears welling up at his confession. 

“Oh Arthur, you are a better man than him and you will be a far better father than he has ever been,” she states, Arthur gives her a small smile.

“I know that it will always be in that head of yours,” she says while poking his forehead. “ But, hopefully, those voices will silence one day,” she gently kisses where she had poked. 

“I don’t deserve you,” he replies. She wraps her arms around his neck and smiles. 

“No you might not, but you were destined to have me,” she says. Arthur gently places a kiss against their shared daisy against her wrist. They stand in the embrace, enjoying each other's company and warmth.  

“We are having a baby,” he whispers, the giddiness clear as crystal. Arthur knew that these doubts wouldn’t go away overnight, but with (Y/N) beside him, he was sure that they would be drowned out by her love and truth. 

#arthur shelby x y/n #fanfiction #fanfic #peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #arthur shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby fanfic #arthur shelby #polly gray #soulmate au

[waywardsummoner46]

Character List~

Finally! It is here. Hopefully this helps you all with any confusion or just in general.

What I’ll write: 

Polyamorous relationships (character x reader x character)

Plain old character x reader

sibling!character or parent!character x reader

Absolutely any AU at all, I’ll list a few ideas down the list

Any version of a character (yandere, dark, etc.)

Literally anything I guess, if it bothers me I’ll let you know!

For certain characters the requests will be strictly platonic however I’m still willing to write dark stuff for them too.

There’s also definitely some I’ve missed so if you don’t see a character or fandom you’re interested in, don’t be afraid to ask!

I’ll put a star next to the characters I’m most interested in writing just in case your struggling to choose!

So here’s the list itself (it’s a bit messy I’m afraid oops):

Supernatural

·        Dean Winchester (most versions of) *

·        Sam Winchester (most versions of) *

·        Castiel (most versions of) *

·        Gabriel *

·        Charlie Bradbury

·        Jack Kline (platonic)

·        Bobby Singer (platonic)

·        Rowena Macleod

·        Crowley

Grishaverse

·        Kaz Brekker

·        Inej Ghafa

·        Nina Zenik

·        Matthias Helvar

·        Jesper Fahey

·        Wylan van Eck

·        Aleksander Morozova *

·        Nikolai Lantsov *

·        Alina Starkov

·        Zoya Nazyalenski

·        Genya Safin

MCU

·        Peter Parker (all versions) *

·        Loki *

·        Doctor Strange *

·        Natasha Romanoff

·        Yelena Belova

·        Steve Rogers

·        Druig * 

·        Milo/Lucien

X-Men

·        Charles Xavier

·        Peter Maximoff

·        Jean Grey

·        Logan

Guardians of the Galaxy

·        Gamora

·        Nebula

Defenders

·        Matt Murdock

·        Jessica Jones

·        Kilgrave

·        Billy Russo*

Sherlock

·        Benedict Cumberbatch *

·        Henry Cavill

DC~

·        Joker (Barry Keoghan or Heath Ledger)

·        The Riddler (Paul Dano)

·        Superman

·        Poison Ivy

·        Harley Quinn

·        Dick Grayson (any version of) *

·        Jason Todd (any version of)

·        Tim Drake

·        Damian Wayne (platonic unless aged-up)

·        Wonder Woman

·       John Constantine (Keanu Reeves)

·       Anarky

Gotham

·      Jerome Valeska

·      Jeremiah Valeska *

·      Edward Nygma

The Witcher

·        Geralt of Rivia

·        Jaskier

Dune

·        Paul Atreides *

·        Channi

Twilight~

·        Jasper Hale - Major Whitlock (the fan concept of a different, more dominant personality for him interests me a lot so...) *

·        Alice Cullen

·        Aro

Doctor Who

·        Ten

·        Eleven

The Boys

·        Soldier Boy

Divergent

·        Tobias Eaton

·        Tris Prior

Harry Potter

·        Tom Riddle *

·        Marauders Era!Remus Lupin *

·        Marauders Era!Sirius Black

·        Newt Scamander

Scream

·         Billy Loomis

·         Stu Macher

The Maze Runner

·         Thomas

·         Newt - Crank!Newt

Once Upon A Time

·         Peter Pan *

Star Wars

·         Kylo Ren

·         Anakin Skywalker

·         Luke Skywalker

·         Leia Organa

Star Trek

·         Khan Noonien Singh

Throne of Glass (please for the love of god request for this!!!! If you haven’t read it, I highly recommend it!)

·        Rowan Whitethorn *

·        Aelin Galathynius *

·        Aedion Ashryver

·       Dorian Havilliard (with or without collar) *

·       Manon Blackbeak *

·       Ansel of Briarcliff

·       Asterin Blackbeak

·       Elide Lochan

·       Lorcan Salvaterre

·       Fenrys Moonbeam

·       Lysandra

·       Nesryn Faliq

·       Sam Cortland

The Cruel Prince

·       Cardan Greenbriar *

·        Jude Duarte

Percy Jackson and Related

·        Piper McLean

·        Hazel Levesque

·        Nico di Angelo

·        Leo Valdez *

The Mortal Instruments

·       Jace Herondale

American Horror Story

·       James Patrick March *

·       Tate Langdon

·       Kai Anderson

Teen Wolf

·       Stiles Stilinski - Nogitsune *

Caraval

·       Legend *

·       Jacks, The Prince of Hearts *

·       Donatella Dragna

·       Scarlett Dragna

Walker

·       Cordell Walker

My Bloody Valentine

·       Tom Hanniger

Cry Wolf 2005

·       Tommy Jordan

Peaky Blinders

·       Tommy Shelby

Gilmore Girls

·        Dean Forester

Good Omens

·        Crowley (Nanny Ashtoreth)*

·        Aziraphale*

Little Women

·       Theodore “Laurie” Laurence

The Matrix

·       Neo *

·       Trinity

Brooklyn Nine Nine

·       Rosa Diaz

·       Jake Peralta

·       Gina Linetti

Kingdom of the Wicked

·       Emilia di Carlo

·       Wrath

·       Lust

A Court of Thorns and Roses (still reading, will add more characters as I go on)

·    Rhysand

·    Feyre

·    Lucien

·    Nesta

·    Mor

·    Azriel

·    Cassian

·    Amren

House of the Dragon

·    Daemon Targaryen

·    Rhaenyra Targaryen

#supernatural x reader #grishaverse x reader #marvel x reader #sherlock x reader #dc x reader #the witcher x reader #dune x reader #twilight x reader #doctor who x reader #the boys x reader #divergent x reader #harry potter x reader #scream x reader #the maze runner x reader #ouat x reader #star wars x reader #star trek x reader #throne of glass x reader #the cruel prince x reader #percy jackson x reader #the mortal instruments x reader #american horror story x reader #teen wolf x reader #caraval x reader #walker x reader #peaky blinders x reader #good omens x reader #brooklyn nine nine x reader #little women x reader #house of the dragon x reader