Requested by @call-sign-shark for my 2K celebration, An Evening at Arrow House. Warning: This is a dark fic 💀
As Mrs. Shelby goes in search of a few more bottles of wine for the table, she stumbles into the darkened cellar, a single candle her only guidance through the maze of dusty passageways. She hums to comfort herself as she selects the vintage Tommy requested, the clinking of the bottles covering the footsteps pacing in even, measured steps behind her.
As she gathers her courage for the journey back, she is met with the chilling sight of her new brother-in-law, wielding a bloody axe. Frozen with fear, the bottles slip from her numb fingertips, shattering at her feet. The maroon liquid spills over the shards of glass, rushing toward Arthur's feet as she feels the room begin to spin.
"Arthur, what are you doing?" she chokes out, as a harsh chill wracks her body.
Arthur stands in pensive silence, eyes roving her body as though he intends to devour her as a hungry predator after easy prey.
Chest rising and falling rapidly, she attempts to regulate her thrumming pulse with another query, appealing to his better nature. "Did you come to help me?" she asks, pressing herself against the shelves to create space between them.
"You should know by now, I'm Tom's right hand," he says, low voice rumbling toward her like a low roll of thunder.
"Of course. He's told me you're a good brother....a good man," she agrees with a shaky bob of her head.
"Mmmm," Arthur hums, throat full of gravel, as he looks down at the handle of the axe, rubbing his thumb along the wood carefully as he speaks. "There is good in my heart..." Then his eyes flick up to hers and her breath catches in her throat as he turns harsh and mechanical once more, "But these hands belong to the devil."
This is just a snippet of an idea I had. I'm still figuring out bits and pieces for the Au. This is basically what Merlin would do if Arthur was ever captured :)
"So, I hear you know where Arthur is," Merlin says, leaning against the wall. His arms crossed as he glares daggers into the bandits very soul.
"I already told ya, I don't know," The bandit frowns, his eyes glued to the ground as he tries to squirm in his seats. He can't move though, the chains Merlin enchanted tightening every time he moves. They have to be digging into his skin by now with how much he has already moved. And yet, a desperate growl of frustration escapes the bandit as the chains travel around his body like snakes, only getting tighter.
"Idiot"
Merlin thinks as he shakes his head, rolling his eyes at the sight in front of him. He pushes himself off the wall, walking towards the bandit, his footsteps echoing throughout the darkened room. Merlin can see the bandits head shoot up at the sound of his footsteps.
"You know," Merlin begins, his fingertips sliding across the tip of the chair the bandit was in as he leans in.
"I know that's a lie," he continues with a frown. His voice is lower, darker, there's frustration to be heard with his impatience.
"I'll admit, defeating us in that surprise attack was.... impressive. But, you had help didn't you?" Merlin says, gripping the chair and leaning it back so he can look the bandit in the eyes.
"I....I," The bandit begins.
"Shhhh. That's not important right now. What is important, however, is that gigantic mistake you made. Talking Arthur," Merlin continues with a scowl on his face.
"So, just tell me where Arthur is, and this can all be over with," Merlin finishes. He waits a moment, but the Bandit says nothing. Merlin let's out a disappointed sigh as he lets the chair go, watching it wobble on its legs as he backs up.
"Fine, we'll see this the hard way," He says. Merlin's eyes turn gold as he whispers under his breath, a ring of fire surrounding the bandit, who looks up in shock. Looking at Merlin as if he was just now realizing who he was dealing with, watching the ring if fire get ever so close to him as he struggles to get out of his magical bounds that only hit tighter. Merlin watches the bandit thrash around with no success as smoke fills the room. The bandit coughs, looking around, the fire inching closer. Merlin's sure he can feel the heat if it by now.
"Alright fine! We were hired by Bayard to stage a bandit attack so we could capture Arthur," The bandit screams, looking at Merlin. The sorcerer's eyes flash gold and the fire slows down, the bandit letting out a sigh of relief.
"So it was a staged attack then? " Merlin asks. The bandit nods his head and Merlin stands there for a second, taking in the information.
"And who helped you," Merlin asks.
"I don't know who it was but Bayard offered some sorceress a lot of money if she helped us get Arthur," the bandit explains. Merlin nods his head, walking towards the door. As he does,the fire starts to inch it's way back towards the bandit.
"Hey! You said if I told you, you'd let me go," the bandit shouted in panic. Merlin stops in his tracks and turns his head so he's looking at the bandit.
"All I said was that it would all be over with, I never said how it would end for you," Merlin says, walking out the door and closing it behind him.
I love the idea of horrible mean gruesome rulers Merthur. Just a young king and his court sorcerer. Who are both equally fucked up from the shit they had to endure.
so i’ve been listening to “meant to be yours” from the heathers musical and i was wondering: would this song fit evil!morgana or dark!arthur more?
i’m honestly curious to hear people’s opinion on this because this was just a passing thought but now i can’t stop thinking about it.
like for evil!morgana we can say she’s singing to gwen (always need that bit of angst when it comes to morgwen), and for dark!arthur it could also be gwen or merlin he’s singing to. oh! or we can have a dark!merlin singing this song to arthur!
@ryane-monju requested both hannigram and merthur, where Merlin is Will’s cousin and with dark!Arthur and Hannibal. I know I completely dropped the ball at getting any prompts out in a timely manner, but hopefully I can be a little bit forgiven with this first piece. I think I’m planning on splitting this request up into little mini-chapters, so hopefully you find this first one entertaining and want more!
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Arthur slid his fingers under the running water, along the flat end of the blade, wiping the fresh blood from the metal and down the drain. Arthur watched it with strange fascination until all traces of red were gone. There was soft clatter behind him - the rustle of plastic and the back and forth of voices - as he finished with the knife, wiping the blade and handle with an antiseptic wipe and placing it back into its stand with the others.
Before Arthur could step away from the sink, a hand came over his shoulder and reached for the knife, lifting it gingerly from the block with two fingers. It swung in front of Arthur’s face for a moment before the wrist flicked and Hannibal was holding the knife properly, blade pointing up as he inspected it with a focused gaze.
“I thought you said no fingerprints.” Arthur commented, eyeing Hannibal’s hands as he further inspected by grazing the knife with his fingers.
“It is my knife,” he answered, finally placing the knife back where he had found it. “My fingerprints are supposed to be on it. It would be more suspicious if there were no fingerprints.”
Arthur flushed and clenched his hands around the edge of the counter. He’d hoped to do well with this kill - impress with what he had learned so Hannibal would keep him around.
Hannibal was quiet, staring off toward the back of the house where his partner, also his husband, was finishing with the clean-up. Arthur was familiar with the man, vaguely from before he went under Hannibal’s wing, and better now after some time.
Arthur waited for Hannibal to continue the conversation, unsure he could do so without further embarrassing himself. His nerves crept up his spinne, starting to fill up his chest with doubt. Hannibal had always commanded with fear and respect, and fear was starting to win out.
Hannibal spoke, finally, accent lilting up with amusement, “You are very good with a blade, Arthur.”
Arthur resisted the urge to preen with the compliment, swallowing down his excitement, and turned his head slightly to meet Hannibal’s gaze and say, “Thank you.”
It was a lot like staring into a dark abyss of a creature who’d spared your life because you were interesting for a moment.
“Yes, it was very clean work,” Hannibal was watching Arthur carefully, though his tone was casual. “No unnecessary damage, even when he was trying to make you angry. He should make several fine meals.”
“Bastard deserved it,” Arthur bristled, rage surfacing again even though the man was already dead.
“How is your partner faring? His stitches should have come out by now.” Hannibal leaned his hip against the counter, and crossed his arms over his chest.
Arthur nodded. “Yeah, stitches are out, everything’s healing. Just a few bruises left.” He gnawed at a nail, picturing the particularly nasty gash that had been on the back of Merlin’s head. “Thank you, again, for helping him before the ambulance came.”
Dragging Merlin, beaten and bleeding, to his car and making sure he stayed awake while he’d driven frantically to Hanibal’s residence had nearly given him a panic attack. In hindsight, calling emergency services to the house of a killer on the run was probably a mistake, but Hannibal had never mentioned or chastised Arthur about that point. Or that Merlin had bled all over his floor.
Other than a dismissive shrug, Hannibal said nothing, looking out toward the back of the house again as Will crossed the hallway into their room.
“Does your partner know you kill for him?” Hannibal asked.
“No. No idea.”
Will’s dog barked from the backyard but Hannibal stayed silent, watching the door that Will had passed through, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb along his bottom lip.
Arthur swallowed around the lump in his throat, treading a thin, deadly line as he asked, “Do you kill for him?”
A wide, frightening grin spread across Hannibal’s face and he sighed wistfully.
“Oh, yes. Often.”
Arthur followed Hannibal’s gaze, which had not moved from the open doorway where they could hear Will opening and closing drawers. He and Hannibal had been on opposite sides once...but now they were inseparable, because of both murder and love.
Arthur had Hannibal’s darkness, but did Merlin have Will’s?
“I’d like to invite you for dinner, Arthur.” Hannibal stated. Arthur eyed him, tensing up in case he needed to run. Perhaps Arthur had just crossed a line, and Hannibal’s casual persona was merely a trap.
“As a guest,” he clarified, chuckling at Arthur as he turned to face him with an amused look. Arthur felt that he could breathe easier, but his heart continued to pound in his chest. Arthur had not betrayed the trust of the Chesapeake Ripper, but he knew it was smarter to be wary of the top predator in the room.
“Both you and your partner. You must bring him with you.” Hannibal continued the conversation, stepping away to open the fridge. He thoughtfully spent a moment looking inside before beginning to pull out ingredients, one a liver Arthur was recently acquainted with. “From what you and Will have told me of him, I think he could be amenable to what you do for him.”
Arthur’s heart picked up, not in fear, but at the thought of finally showing Merlin the extent of his care for him. Of being with Merlin as Hannibal was with Will. Of revealing his last, and most dangerous secret.
Arthur could try to hide his excitement, and play the rest of this game - because everything with Hannibal seemed like a life-sized chess match - close to his chest, but Hannibal would have already seen the hope in Arthur’s posture and the silence he had let go on just a little too long.
“I’m not sure how to bring up that you and I are...friendly now.” Arthur had never put a label on his partnership with Hannibal, always switching roles. He could be a student one moment, only to be an observer or the teacher the next. He could easily become ‘victim’ as well.
Hannibal pulled the knife Arthur had finished cleaning from its stand and cleanly sliced the liver Arthur had cut from a man’s body in half. He seemed unfazed with Arthur’s statement, masterfully beginning to prepare his meal.
“I’m sure,” he said finally, pausing mid-cut to look up across the room at Will, who had emerged from their bedroom, phone held up to his ear, as he met Hannibal’s gaze with an endearing smile. “it won’t be a problem.”
Arthur watched Will with a quizzical look, but the man never took his eyes off of Hannibal, even as he said, “Merlin? Hi. It’s your cousin, Will.”
Will bit his bottom lip as Merlin spoke on the other end. Hannibal still hadn’t resumed his cooking.
“Yes,” Will said softly. “We were wondering if you and Arthur would like to come to dinner next week..”
~~~~
I know things seem a bit tame for having dark!characters, but the next part definitely has darker actions from pretty much everyone, so there’s that to look forward to. I hope you enjoyed the first part of Corruption, and the rest of the requested prompts that will be coming soon! Please keep requesting prompts, and if you enjoyed this, comment and share!
Summary: (Dark AU) When power hungry Arthur is left to run the Eden Club unchecked, he forces his women into dangerous games with the characters of the London underworld. What happens when Finn interferes with his newest girl?
Moodboard credit: the lovely @shelbydelrey
Author's Note: Written for @shelbydelrey Peaky x Lana Festival. Inspired by "Dark But Just a Game" by Lana Del Rey.
Warnings: mention of violence, weapons, mention of blood, ethnic slur, drug use, drinking, pregnancy, mention of abortion, assault
The faces of all the women Evelyn knew who suffered or simply vanished, flashed through her mind as she slept, each one reaching for her as though she might gain purchase. But they all slipped from her grasp like sand, leaving her defeated to face a mirror. Her own blank expression stared back at her as Arthur’s large hand encircled her neck. His mustache tickling the delicate skin beneath her ear as he whispered, “Evie, my pretty little fool.” As she turned to face him, the glass shattered and he was gone. Stooping to gather the pieces, a large, jagged shard sliced her palm until the blood ran down her fingertips and dripped onto the floor. It collected in a puddle at her feet which quickly turned to inky blackness all around her, creating a suffocating fear. She awoke with a start, covered in sweat and heaving for breath. It had been the same dream since she left London.
Evelyn could recall the evening the Peaky Blinders took over the Eden Club well. It had been a a night ruled by violent chaos. Chairs and tables were overturned as patrons ran from the hoodlums who produced flying fists and razors. Mario was stabbed in the face with a broken bottle trying to stop them. He held a few of them off long enough for some of the girls to hide, including Evelyn.
She took cover backstage, watching with wide eyes as a tall lanky man approached the microphone declaring the establishment was now under new management, "By order of the Peaky Blinders." She readied the knife she hid in her garter belt, thinking of a time when she laughed at the prospect of needing one in a place like this. “I’m not going to change,” she told herself when she’d first arrived, but the girl waiting to stab anyone who came near her begged to challenge that notion.
It was there that Arthur Shelby found her and quickly disarmed her. “Who might you be, angel?” he asked with a devilish smirk, wild hair drooping over his eyes in a rakish manner and and blood dripping from his brow. Pressed close to his lean muscle, there was something about him that intrigued her. It was an unexpected attraction that overwhelmed her senses.
“I’m Evelyn," she replied breathily. "Aren't you going to tell me your name?"
“Thought I’d made it clear, love. I’m a Shelby. Name’s Arthur,” he said proudly.
“You’re bleeding, Arthur. Will you let me help you?” Evelyn asked, venturing a hand to brush the hair from his forehead. Arthur leaned into her touch slightly, his rapid breathing slowing momentarily. His eyes locked onto her as though he were assessing her intentions. When he found nothing but sincerity lying beneath the offer, he accepted and she lead him downstairs hand in hand.
They didn’t speak a word as she found the items necessary to clean his wound and care for him. Arthur watched her graceful movements with awe, something akin to peaceful reverie coming over his face as she sat before him. She quickly realized how touch starved he was when she brushed his face with a cool cloth and felt pity for him despite the acts of violence she’d witnessed earlier.
When she finished her work, she sat back and observed his now calm features asking, “Can I ask why? What does this place mean to you?” She waited to see if her questions raised his ire, but found him more than willing to talk with her.
“We don’t mean you no harm. It’s time for a change is all,” he said, going on to explain that the blinders were expanding their territory and what she had seen was nothing more than a show of their power. Darby Sabini was being run out and he would now be in charge.
“You don’t have to be afraid of me, love” Arthur assured her. “Those wops don’t know how to take care of their women, but I’m going to look after you from now on,” he said, placing a large, calloused hand to her face. She felt her breath hitch at his words. No one had ever said anything like that to her. She’d been on her own for as long as she could remember and the offer of protection was tempting. The Sabini’s had been terrible employers so how could the Shelbys be any worse? Evelyn wanted to trust Arthur in that moment and she did because there was something in his eyes that told her she was safe.
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It had been a month since the Shelbys had taken over and the club was flourishing. There were new customers coming in every night and Evelyn was making more in tips than she ever had before. Her instinct to trust Arthur had been correct. He was protective of all his employees, especially Evelyn. He didn’t hesitate to throw a punch if anyone disrespected her which made her feel special and if she dared to think it, powerful. She held her head a bit higher knowing no one would cross a woman protected by the Shelbys.
Truthfully, everyone’s mood had improved. Arthur’s younger brother John was around occasionally and his raunchy jokes were a favorite amongst the girls. Although he was married, he had a few affairs she knew of with Elisabeth and Marie. They all giggled about it afterwards, claiming he had the biggest cock they’d ever seen and stamina to match. The early days were full of heady gossip.
The girls also talked about the youngest brother, Finn, though he didn’t come round as often. He worked for the boss, Tommy, back in Birmingham. Finn didn’t seem to be as free to make his own decisions and worked harder than his siblings, always off on errands and chauffeuring them about town. Evelyn felt sorry for him because they spoke to him like hired help rather than a brother and rarely invited him for a drink at the family table.
The older brothers had a habit of gathering at a large booth in the back where the men discussed business and watched their customers with a keen eye. John would saunter over with a girl on each arm and Arthur would call Evelyn to his side, holding court as he laughed and cursed. It seemed as though the party would last forever.
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Three months in and the club was seeing an increase in Jewish patrons. The girls all whispered about the reasons for this sudden change, considering their previous clientele had been Italian men. Some believed it to be the influence of a new gentleman with a cane at his side and crown tattoos on his hands. He visited Arthur faithfully every Sunday. Whatever was said in their private conversations agitated Arthur greatly and he was never quite the same afterward. Despite her questions about the mysterious man, Arthur kept that business to himself. He only asked Evelyn to keep him company afterwards. A good fuck was all Arthur needed to forget the irritating man who took up too much of his time.
After a stressful night negotiating with the mad baker, he was particularly agitated. With Evelyn too fatigued to offer solace, he offered up his favorite remedy. “We call it Tokyo. It’ll help ya, dove,” Arthur said, pushing the little blue vial into her palm.
“I don’t know,” Evelyn said, tracing her fingertips over his chest. “I know some girls who got in trouble with this stuff,” she said uncertainly.
“Don’t be so serious, Evie. It’s just a bit fun, yeah?” he said, tapping the white powder out onto his hand for her. “Go on,” he said with a charming smile. Without another thought, Evelyn snorted it and felt the most intoxicating rush of her life. There was no turning back after she found this new cure for lack of energy and depressing days. Of course, Arthur never denied her. She was too trusting of Arthur in those days she would recall later.
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The only person who seemed to notice or care about her habit was Finn. When he began to notice her weight loss, he made a habit of dropping in to check on her. It always brought a smile to her face seeing his impish delight at stealing her away.
“C’mon,” Finn would urge with a wave of his arm. “Let’s get out of here,” he always said, checking the hall.
“Finn, I can’t leave,” Evelyn pretended to protest, knowing he would carry her out if she didn't follow.
“You’re with a Shelby. You can do whatever the fuck you like,” he said with a cheeky grin and she couldn’t help but smile back at him, giving his hand a squeeze as he pulled her out the back door toward a cafe. He would buy her food they would often share as he entertained her with stories about his mischievous nieces and nephews.
Some days he could tell she was sad despite the laughter. He could sense Evelyn wanted to talk about her problems, but she never really did, preferring to sit and smoke, leaning her head against Finn’s broad shoulder for comfort. He wondered if Arthur had anything to do with her unhappy moods and hated taking her back to the club, knowing he was delivering her into the hands of his wayward brother. Finn often found himself thinking about how Evelyn could stay with someone like that.
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It was nine months before Evelyn noticed girls from the club were leaving. Well, perhaps not leaving so much as disappearing. They would be tasked with providing company to gentlemen and never return. Evelyn and the other girls were urged not to ask questions about anyone who left employment. Truthfully, with girls coming and going so often and the lack of sleep, Evelyn lost track. She was spending so much time with Arthur that she didn’t have time to learn their names anymore. Perhaps is was the effect of a busy life or the drugs, but she rarely noticed the details.
One evening after a long shift, she returned to Arthur's flat, calling out, “Arthur? Arthur, where are you?" She had finished at the club without any snow, but only barely. Her skin crawled with need. Turning the pockets of his discarded coat inside out for the little blue bottle she craved, she whined when she came up empty. As she stomped her foot in frustration, a giggle echoed down the hall. Following the sounds of splashing water all the way to the bathroom, she opened the door to find an intoxicated Arthur, sunk beneath a layer of bubbles, and a girl from the club sucking a bruise into his neck as she pumped his shaft below the water.
“Evie!” He slurred, removing one hand from the water to slick back his hair. “Join us, darlin’,” he said with a wolfish grin, unashamed and completely unaware of her shock and sadness at finding him with someone else.
The girl’s head rose to nod in agreement as she bit her lip. Removing her hand from the side of the tub, she grasped Evelyn’s wrist before she could leave. Like a siren she called out temptingly, “Stay and have a sniff of snow?” She knew her words had the desired effect as Evelyn’s eyes darkened. Although Evelyn didn’t want to stay where another was clearly doing a fine job of satisfying her man, she listened to Arthur’s commands to kneel and take what she badly needed off the woman’s ample breast, his hand at the back of her head holding her in place as he cooed at her how beautiful she looked.
“Come on, love. Get in,” he urged and that was enough for her to undress for him. He sighed at the sight of her, letting his head drop back against the edge of the tub, watching in enjoyment. It wasn’t a difficult choice from there as she saw how much he wanted her. She even began to believe him when she felt the surge of her high kick in, riding him and feeling Clara pushed to the side. “Been waitin’ all day for you,” he groaned, hips thrusting up into her roughly.
“Then tell her to leave, Arthur,” Evelyn said, leaning forward to kiss him. Arthur’s hand came up to grasp at her throat possessively as a wicked smile crossed his lips. Then he nodded, flicking his eyes toward the other girl. “Get the fuck out,” he growled at her and Evelyn had never felt more powerful.
Later as they lay in bed a tangle of arms and legs, Arthur turned to Evelyn and watched her with hooded eyes. Voice low and full of gravel he proclaimed, “You ain’t like other girls, Evie. You help me shut out all the noise when my head gets too loud,” he said, rubbing circles into her hip with his thumb. “I love you,” he said quietly, wrapping his arms around her tightly. Silence descended before he kissed her forehead. Then he rolled her onto his chest, falling into a deep sleep with his large hand splayed across her back. Evelyn basked in his words and warm embrace, knowing her connection to Arthur was far greater than anyone else’s.
Evelyn had never carried a sense of superiority over anyone. Raised by poor people in a dirty slum, it was never her expectation to do better than the life she’d known as a child. However, Arthur allowed her to glimpse the possibility of something more and it was thrilling. Good food, fine clothing and her own dressing room set her apart from the beginning. However, now she could add Arthur’s promises of their future together to the glittering array offered before her like a queen.
It was thoughts like these that caused her to overlook the mistreatment of those around her. It would be another month before she happened to overhear a conversation as she passed outside Arthur’s office that would change all that. She only stopped when she heard the cries of a girl who had been at the club almost as long as she had. Sandra wasn’t prone to theatrics so the cries Evelyn heard surprised her.
“I can’t stay here, Mr. Shelby,” Sandra pleaded.
“Why the fuck not? Solomons likes ya,” Arthur said, pouring himself a drink and taking a seat behind his desk.
“That’s the problem,” she said, voice wobbling.
“You’re talking in bloody circles. I ain’t got time for this. Are you going to get the information from him or not?” Arthur said testily.
“I can’t do that to him. I’m carrying his child,” she confessed.
“You stupid fucking bitch. Thought I told ya…” Arthur warned, chair scraping the floor in shrill protest as he stood to confront her.
“I know what you said, Arthur, but this is different. He loves-“ Sandra attempted before Arthur cut her off with a harsh scoff.
“You going to say he loves you?,” he laughed as he took a sip of the whisky he held in his hand. “Say that myself sometimes after I’ve emptied my balls. Doesn’t mean shit.”
“Alfie deserves to know,” she challenged Arthur.
“You’ve got fucking work to do. Last thing you need is a bloody kid,” he huffed. Slamming his glass down on the desk as he instructed darkly, “Get rid of it.”
“Wh-what?” She stammered in disbelief. “You can’t be serious!” Without thinking she kept going, “I’ll tell him everything, I swear I will. And when Alfie finds out…” she warned.
Heavy footsteps could be heard and then a loud slap as Arthur connected with her face. A loud thud reverberated as Arthur pinned her against the wall by her neck. “Don’t you dare threaten me,” he rumbled. “Could kill you right now if I wanted to. He’d never come lookin’ for ya,” he hissed, squeezing the air from her lungs. A faint gurgling sound could be heard over the course of the next few moments, along with the desperate scratching of nails against the wall.
Evelyn struggled to catch her own breath, frightened Sandra might be dying. Tears pricked her eyes as she bit her fingers, willing her feet to move and do something to stop what she was hearing on the other side of the wall. Just then, Sandra gasped for breath. A sharp wheezing and deep coughs emanated from her as Arthur grumbled, “I’m not gonna let you fuck this up for me. So you’re not sayin’ a word. Understand?”
A small sob that sounded like a yes echoed out along with a few sniffles. Arthur grunted as she ran from the room. Evelyn ran as well, scared and confused by what she’d just overheard. It was a side of Arthur she didn’t want to believe existed.
With his office empty and free of distraction, Arthur picked up the telephone and called for Isiah. “Be at the club tonight by nine,” he said. “Need you to take care of a problem.”
Summary: (Dark AU) When power hungry Arthur is left to run the Eden Club unchecked, he forces his women into dangerous games with the characters of the London underworld. What happens when Finn interferes with his newest girl?
Moodboard credit: the lovely @shelbydelrey
Author's Note: Written for @shelbydelrey Peaky x Lana Festival. Inspired by "Dark But Just a Game" by Lana Del Rey.
Warnings: slur, drug use, drinking, mention of kidnapping, domestic violence, threat with a weapon, mention of blood
Part 1
Evelyn listened in numb silence as Arthur ordered her to entertain Alfie Solomons later. The blue gray smoke of his cigar swirled around him, obscuring everything except his bloodshot eyes as he detailed his business partner's proclivities in vivid detail. Through the cloud that separated them, she swore she saw his lips curl in devilish delight as he boasted, “Gonna have that kike right where I want him after tonight. You’ll show him a good time, won't you, love?” Arthur asked, unclenching the cigar from his teeth to snort a line of snow from the bar. He seemed oblivious to the fact that Evelyn hadn’t given him an answer. However, her services were expected so none was required.
“Thought Alfie had a girl,” she finally managed, just above a whisper.
Arthur cocked his head at her suspiciously and she held her breath as she watched him dab at the remnants of the white powder and rub it across his gums. Pulling back he shrugged off the feeling she knew something about Sandra, only interested in finding a quick replacement to satisfy Alfie.
“Greedy fucker wants a little taste of what I’ve got,” he lied pawing at her hip and giving it a rough squeeze. Tilting her chin up toward him, he added, “Can’t blame him though. Sweet thing like you could convince a man to do all sorts of things.”
Arthur’s request wasn’t unique. He poured honeyed words into her ear before about how persuasive a pretty girl could be. Early on when she was eager to please the new boss, she cozied up to other men. When she returned with useful secrets for him, he rewarded her with extra money and all the praise she desired, telling her what a powerful couple they could be if they worked together. The sentiment tonight was no different, but the words had lost all meaning.
Arthur searched her eyes to see if she would comply and as further enticement, he made a show of removing a thick stack of cash from his pocket. Peeling a few bills away, he told her, “A little taste of what’s to come. Go on, love, you’ve earned it.” Extending the money between two fingers, he shook it at her, but he couldn’t help the amused chuckle that escaped as he added, “Or you will have after tonight.”
“I don’t want what’s mine if this is how I get it. Please, not like this, Arthur,” Evelyn begged, dropping her head into her hands. She drew a few ragged breaths, wishing Arthur would tell her to forget the whole thing. If he loved her the way he said, he should be sickened by the thought of that bear of a man talking to her, let alone touching her. “This is getting too dark for me,” she finally confessed.
Arthur clumsily pulled at her elbow, tearing it away from her face to push the money into her cleavage. As her eyes widened, he dragged her close enough so she could feel his hot breath dancing on her neck. She shivered at the hypnotic sound of his deep voice rumbling, “It’s dark, but just a game.” He ran a hand across her shoulder, moving her hair from her neck as he whispered, “Just a game for a pretty little fool like you, hmm?” Then with a laugh he added dismissively, “My Evie, always so serious.” With a quick slap to her ass, he leaned over the bar and grabbed a half empty bottle of whisky before leaving the room without a backward glance.
Evelyn slumped onto a stool wondering how she’d get through the evening. As she reached for her little blue vial of comfort concealed in the pocket of her dress, Finn appeared before her. She didn’t have time to put it back before he noticed the flash of bright cobalt in her hand.
“What’s wrong, Evelyn?” he asked, knowing she must be feeling troubled. The smoothness and warmth of his voice immediately stood out in stark contrast to his brother's and Evelyn felt calmer somehow.
“Nothing to concern yourself about,” she said with a weak smile. Finn knew it was fake, but didn’t say anything as she pulled him closer for a hug. He let her linger in his arms, clutching onto his jacket as he mumbled into her hair, “Go for a walk?” She nodded against his chest and he took her hand, sneaking her out the back entrance for some much needed fresh air.
They walked the empty side streets and chain smoked until she seemed ready to talk. Eventually Finn managed to learn that Arthur was asking something of Evelyn she was deeply uncomfortable with, though she wouldn’t say what it was. She still seemed to be protecting him.
As they neared the club, she stopped and stared at Finn, a question on her mind she'd been pondering recently. “Why is Arthur here in London instead of Tommy?” she asked.
“Tommy put Arthur here cause people are afraid of him,” Finn shrugged. Evelyn knew that all too well.
Lifting her chin, she challenged, “Perhaps that was a mistake, leaving him here on his own.”
“Yeah,” Finn agreed, taking out a cigarette and lighting it. He never went against his brothers, but he couldn’t deny that Arthur was making bad decisions lately. Finn took a long, slow drag of his cigarette, contemplating the trust he'd built with Evelyn. Exhaling a stream of smoke, he began to tell her about the interworkings of his family. “Arthur was passed over to take on the family business and he never got over it. He hates Tommy. Now that Tommy's occupied with things back home, Arthur does what he likes.” He glanced at Evelyn as a fire lit behind her eyes.
“Well Tommy should have had someone watching his mad dog,” Evelyn said, stamping out her cigarette forcefully. “Finn, he’s making deals with Alfie Solomons,” she said, watching him for a reaction.
Finn ran a hand over his face. “Fuck, that's serious.”
“I know. He wants me to start working him,” Evelyn said, running her hands up and down her arms to keep out the cold that suddenly ran through her.
Finn furrowed his brow as the implications of her words registered in his mind. “Evelyn, no! He’s a dangerous, unpredictable man. You can’t,” he said, his voice constricting painfully in his throat.
Evelyn turned to face him, not missing the emotion in his tone or the tension he suddenly held in his body. There was no time to address it, however, as the muffled cries of a woman could be heard around the corner. Finn pulled Evelyn into the shadows of the alley just as Isaiah and Bonnie hauled Sandra to a waiting car that had pulled to the curb. As they worked to shove her inside, Evelyn tried to break free from Finn’s grip, but he held her fast.
When the car sped off into the night she shouted at him, “Why did you stop me? Didn’t you see what they were doing?”
Finn gulped, “I’m sorry. I was trying to protect you.”
“Well, don’t. I can take care of myself!” she said angrily, jerking her shoulders from his grasp. She was tired of feeling powerless, unable to help anyone around her. Finn had appointed himself as her personal bodyguard and nothing good would come of it. Although it pained her, she forced herself to push him away. “Just leave me be, Finn!” she said, rushing back inside the club.
Finn was left standing alone in the alley, cigarette burning his fingertips as he stood motionless. He felt hurt and a bit stunned by her abrupt words, but not deterred enough to stop watching over her. He couldn’t stop now that his affection for her had taken over his thoughts. He knew somewhere deep down she felt the same and despite her bravado, he was certain she would need protection from Arthur someday. That time would come sooner than even he could have predicted.
———————————-
As Evelyn finished applying her makeup, she heard the heavy footfall of Arthur’s boots. Dashing out into the crowded backstage area, she called out to him. At first he didn’t stop, keeping up his pace as though he hadn’t heard her. Evelyn felt her cheeks flush at the embarrassment of having been ignored, then her anger flared.
“Where’s Sandra?” Evelyn shouted, waiting to see if Arthur would tell the truth. Hearing her clearly, Arthur stopped and turned slowly to face her.
“The lads told me she's sick,” he said somewhat unconvincingly.
“That’s not true,” Evelyn said more defiantly than intended. The emotion coursing through her caused her voice to rise involuntarily as she continued, “Isaiah and Bonnie took her away tonight. I saw them!” As soon as the words left her mouth she knew it was a mistake. Arthur's eyes turned dark and he stalked toward her, grabbing her arm and pulling her into her dressing room.
"The fuck you just say to me?” he growled, slamming the door behind him and dropping the empty whisky bottle he held. The glass shattered at her feet making Evelyn jump. “You questioning my men in front of the other girls?” he asked with a shake of his head, hair falling in front of his eyes precariously.
“No, Arthur,” she replied, casting her eyes downward. “I would never,” she gulped fearfully. “I..I just want to know…wh-what happened,” she stuttered, feeling unsure of herself now that he was so close to her, seething with anger.
“Arthur, darling, tell me you didn’t have Sandra and her child killed,” she begged, voice breaking with the first tears that slid down her cheek.
"How do you know about that?" he asked as he towered over her, face like stone with no hint of human emotion visible.
His inadvertent confession shocked her and her hands began to shake as she whispered, "You did it, didn't you?"
“You want to play games, eh?” Arthur said with a wicked look in his eye, reaching for his gun. “Well there are fucking rules here, Evie,” he chided her as he gestured in her direction with the weapon.
“You’re scaring me, Arthur,” she said, backing away from him. Her legs hit the edge of the vanity, mirror teetering dangerously behind her as a jar fell to the floor. A plume of white powder erupted at her feet, drawing his attention from her momentarily.
The tension broke suddenly as he smiled and chuckled darkly, “Scared of me, little dove? Since when?” An insincere smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and she gulped at the sight of it, knowing he wanted her trust, but she couldn’t give it. It was then she regretted every small gesture of kindness she'd accepted from him, knowing now that it had all been a lie.
Arthur brought a rough hand to her cheek, dragging it against her skin slowly as her heart thundered wildly in her chest. The gun rested in his opposite hand and she could feel the cool metal pressing at her hip. Evelyn closed her eyes thinking only of escape. “Please, Arthur. Let me go,” she managed in a broken whisper.
Feeling his fringe brush against her forehead, he whispered, “Oh, Evie...You need me to keep you in line. That’s why you love me, isn’t it?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension. His hand snaked behind her neck and wove through the hair at the nape, sending shivers down her spine. "You love me, don't you, Evie?" he asked. His voice was soft now, gentle even, but Evelyn couldn’t find tenderness in it as she once had. She bit her lip to stop it from quivering, willing him away with every beat of silence that lingered between them.
Without a confession of love and loyalty, all pretense was lost and Arthur's rage returned. Without warning he tugged on her hair with brute force, slamming the back of her head into the glass of the mirror. Her eyes shot open to see him glaring at her, gun pointed at her temple. As his finger began to squeeze over the trigger, Evelyn shook her head gently, mouth opening in a strangled cry before finding her voice. “Yes, yes, Arthur. I love you! I love you and I need you to keep me in line.” She babbled, trying to tell him whatever it was he wanted to hear, whatever would make him put the gun down.
“S right, you do. You need to learn there are consequences for sticking your nose where it don’t belong,” he sneered at her, all teeth and hatred suddenly. The gun rubbed against her hairline with uncomfortable pressure until Arthur pulled it away, firing into the ceiling. Evelyn screamed as debris fell from the ceiling, bits of plaster and dust raining down on her before she could protect herself with her hands. Arthur threw her away forcefully causing her to crash to the floor in a heap. He leaned down to her and hissed, “Next time I won’t fucking miss.”
Evelyn wrapped her arms around her knees and rocked herself as he strode away, shattered glass crunching under his boots as he went. The ringing in her ears and her soft sobs were the only sounds that could be heard before a sharp knock came at the door, bringing her out of herself. “Evelyn?” A boyish voice called out and the tension in her body relaxed slightly as she realized it was only Finn.
Sitting back on her heels, she wiped her tears with the back of her hand, noticing blood dripping from her palm. Finn quickly surveyed the room and Evelyn’s trembling form.
“Is this Arthur's doing?” he asked, trying to keep the anger from his voice. Although he already knew the answer. He was familiar with his older brother’s temper having grown up around it, but it didn’t make it easier to witness when it came to Evelyn. When he looked into her eyes he saw a fear that had never been there before.
“Evelyn, are you alright?” he asked, extending a hand toward her. He was slow and careful so as not to startle her.
“I…I have to get ready,” she mumbled, trying to stand on shaky legs. She clutched onto the vanity and turned away, not wanting Finn to see her like this.
“No, you don’t. You’re hurt,” Finn said, noticing a shard of glass in her palm. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and attempted to clean her wound, but she seemed oblivious to it.
“He’s going to kill me, Finn. I know it,” she said, finally looking up at him. She hung her head, breaking down into hysterical sobs.
Finn pulled her into him tightly as she cried, promising, “I won’t let him. I know you think I’m no match for Arthur, but I’ve got a plan to get you out of here. I just need you to trust me.”
