so instead of doing a completely new thing to celebrate Eva’s third Birthday, i will simply do again the one from last year because yours truly legit misread the year date on the fic and miscounted.
happy 2nd 3rd birthday to my favorite blorbo from my brain
here is the post with all the party details
so I was too excited to do the math correctly and now we're doing Eva’s 3rd birthday 2: electric boogaloo for the whole month of october
A/N: friends, romans, countrymen, it has been an honor to write this fic with y'all
Special thanks to @thegreatdragonfruta @zablife @wandawiccan60 @call-sign-shark @cljordan-imperium and @minaethrym
It has been a year since Grace died in his arms. Had she lived would their marriage have survived the year, he wonders?
Would she have lived to leave him and take Charlie or would she have stuck by his side even as the Italians kill them one by one?
Tommy is pushed to call for a truce after Arthur’s death. So close to Grace’s death that their funerals take place the same day even if a year apart.
First John now Arthur. Only Finn remains and he has been packed off to Boston with Ada and Karl for their safety.
“Where will you go?” Polly asks him after she tells him of her plans to go to Australia and find Anna’s grave. Michael is hesitant to go, but keeps his knowledge of Polly’s deal with Luca a secret.
Self-preservation trumps all after all. Not that he blames them.
“Hell, finally.” Tommy is strangely at peace with it.
With Grace and Lizzie and little Charlie he had considered staying alive, but now he knows it was never the sapphire, he is the curse.
As long as he lives, everyone he loves will keep dying.
First with Grace and now with Arthur.
He might make it easier for Luca and just take his revolver into his mouth. No one but Tommy Shelby can kill Tommy Shelby.
They have lost anyways.
“I would have said there is still a chance, but I don’t think there is even if we had divine intervention.” The witch taps the card that came next in their last reading.
Two of cups, failure, loss.
The vendetta would be over, the Changrettas the winners.
But at least its over.
“If you can keep an eye on Charlie for me, I would forgive you for betraying me, Pol.”
His aunt nods sadly, and leaves to catch the last train to London.
“Do it, Thomas, we will be together again, me and you and Charlie watching us from heaven with Lizzie and little Ruby.” Grace’s voice said as if she stood behind him.
The way she adds Charlie’s name sends a shiver down his spine.
Had the Italians killed him?
“Luca doesn’t keep his promises, my love, he took my sweet boy even if he wasn’t your son.” The ghost says and he turns to see her in her modest clothes when she was a barmaid, when she pretended to be the woman he fell in love with. “Join us, while we wait for the others, Tom. Just take the gun and join us.”
And he does.
Thomas Shelby is thirty-six years old when he takes his own life.
On a two of cups he wrote: “You did not keep your word.”
And just like that, it is over.
The villain defeated, the dead avenged and England ripe for the taking.
And yet Eva’s wine tastes like blood all the same.
It never got easier for her, killing even indirectly always made her see how further and further the light is.
“Tonight we celebrate our victory, maga. Tomorrow my mother comes with the children and our new life truly begins.” Luca takes the glass and kissed her hands drenched in blood only she can see.
“You killed them all didn’t you?” He is covered in blood as well, but his have the handprints of children on his pristine white shirt.
Luca plays dirty, she should’ve known he wont let them live.
“A vendetta is a vendetta, I couldn’t take any chances, Eva.” He explains his actions so well she can almost believe his lies.“I didn’t want to, but I had to, vita mia.”
He wanted then dead, always has.
His brother and father’s death only gave him the reasons to finally do it.
“Why?” she asks as to why he’d go so far.
Polly and Michael never got on their train, Ada and the two boys never reached Benjamin Younger where he waited for them to start their life together.
Every single drop of Shelby blood had been spilled over the earth on his orders while they celebrated Tommy’s suicide.
“Because I don’t forgive those who betray me.” Luca’s hold on her wrists become manacles, manacles that won’t ever come off now.
The shadow that she saw the day they married had never left, how could it leave when it had become them.
A year ago today the shadow had begun to consume Luca and now the transformation was complete.
The man who stands before her has become the true devil of Birmingham, and she his queen.
He is not the man you think he is, she can hear Audrey’s warnings.
But I do know him, the witch reminds herself, they’d been married for six years and she knows him.
She should’ve known he wasn’t going to stop until everyone was dead. And now that Shelby was gone, he wouldn’t stop until all of England fears the Black Hand.
Sabini will learn that the hard way when he outlives his use to her husband. Poor little Aurora will die just like her parents and siblings will too.
And because she loves him, she will help him every step of the way.
“A good thing I never plan to, mi amor.” The witch let go of his hands and wrapped them around his neck.
No matter what she will never regret choosing him over all the men the world had offered her that day.
With a kiss she lets the darkness consume her as it seeps in through her mouth in a loving kiss.
While Luca coordinates the murder of the Shelby who started this, Eva decides to meet the woman at the center of it all: Elizabeth Stark.
“Did he ever give you the ring?” Eva asks as the woman aims a gun at the stranger in her house.
“Who are you, how did you get in here?” She asks knowing damn well what she means and yet hoping it is not the case.
“Not here to kill you, as much as they blame you for his death, it wasn’t entirely your fault I suppose.” The witch raised her hands to show she was unarmed ---not that she needed a weapon in her hands to do so if she changed her mind--- and the woman drops her weapon.
“I didn’t want him to die, we were supposed to run away to New York, but ---” Lizzie Stark can’t even say it.
But they own me.
He owns me.
Women once hired and had by a gangster cease to belong to themselves and become his.
Lizzie had only changed hands from John to Tommy Shelby the moment she agreed to be his secretary and personal whore.
“Oh, I know, he owns you. But that’s not the whole of it, I know that with just a snap of his fingers Thomas Shelby had you on your knees for him even that night before the wedding. Didn’t matter he had a wife; it wasn’t like she existed to be anything but a pretty trophy.
If he took you away, Angel had hoped you would forget Thomas, but you just had to tell him you were leaving. You wanted him to stop you.”
It is a low blow, but Eva doesn’t care.
She needs her guilt to drive a wedge between Shelby and his family.
Lizzie was more loyal to him than his aunt and brothers combined.
If Lizzie faltered, Shelby would have no one to turn to.
“I, I—” Lizzie, a woman who life made strong as steel, crumpled like a flower. “I didn’t know John would attack him. I didn’t know he would have him killed like that!”
Guilt is such a powerful tool.
“He has a wife.” Lizzie says as she sits herself in his old office and both act as if nothing is going on. “She is a witch like Polly.”
They were here waiting for the others.
No one save Ada, Arthur, Finn, and Michael had come home.
Linda had gone to her old house, locked the door behind them and said she’d be damned if her baby boy must pay for their sins.
“And you want me to believe you?” Thomas asked sarcastically. While he treaded with care about this side of things, he knew most witches were frauds.
This is not the case.
“She knew we fucked the night before your wedding. That you told me that the Grace you were marrying felt like pretty trophy to you.” This catches his attention, blue eyes narrowing in fear.
Even if they killed the Italians, one curse was enough to make sure they follow them to hell right after.
Thomas’ mother had laid a curse on the woman who called the parish on Polly and took her children, the woman choked on the body of Christ the following Sunday and dropped dead right there on the church.
Then people knew not to fuck with a Shelby.
“What did she want?” he asks knowing he won’t trust her with the answer she gives him.
How could you let him, I wanted out of this hell, Tommy! She remembers screaming at him when Angel’s mother called from the hospital to tell her what John did.
And then he told her he had killed Angel. That he himself had put a pillow over his face because it was his fault Grace was dead.
And somehow that pain, that blood in his hands led to them fucking like animals in the bed once occupied by the wife he never even knew.
“To present different terms. Luca and his mother want all of you gone, but she knows the vendetta can end if just the ones with blood on their hands are dead. That there was no need for anyone else to die, which is why she had the Macmillan’s take Charlie from you.”
Tell him it was me, she said fixing her red lipstick as she left.
“Nothing else?” he asks, thinking she is lying to him.
He won’t believe you, but oh well, Miss Stark, the witch had said.
Thomas trusted her with everything except his head and heart.
Grace, not the one he married, but the lying rat from the Garrison, he had trusted with his head and heart.
“No.”
“I was thinking, Maga we need a bambino to name after my brother. A little Angelo or Angelina to remember him by.” Luca said as they enjoyed the great start the vendetta had had.
It is Christmas morning when the first body falls.
Lizzie was not believed, and Tommy Shelby’s paranoia isolated him from everyone, Polly assumed she had fooled them and would learn the hard way no one lied to them and lived and soon all this would be over.
Thomas would have killed Michael anyways, better them than him, the witch supposed.
Esme Shelby would take the children and leave for France, Linda Shelby would not need much encouragement to leave England with her sweet baby boy and Finn Shelby, well, he may try but he has no taste for this sort of life.
Ada Thorne and her son would have to die as well if she doesn’t know what’s good for her. Change her name, move to some nice Jewish Neighborhood, marry a nice Jewish man, and forget she was ever a Shelby.
“Maybe, once this is over. Spring is a perfectly good time to give our new kingdom another little princess. Angela Lucia, what do you think?” she asks as she drinks in the sight below her window, while Small Heath reminded her of the less than picturesque parts of Mexico City, this would be theirs.
No more biting her tongue, no more being the quiet and well-mannered lady who is fine with not being the queen of the land.
Cw: smut, mirror sex, praise kink, breeding kink, daddy kink, mentions of a misscarriage, past infidelity and implied cuckolding 🤭
Luca feels his pride swell when he walks in with his wife.
She is everything a man could want and some more. Even better she is only his.
They can stare all they want, they can gossip all they want and it wouldn’t change the fact that Luca has the crème of crème.
The wedding is elegant and fine, his cousin looks lovely in her blue dress and the groom is of good enough standing with their family to provide a good party.
The Shelbys are invited as are the Black Country Boys and the Sabinis and other assorted families they are on good terms with…for now.
Luca will make them all kneel before him when the time comes, or perhaps he will let them have England while he goes where the real power lies: America.
The Irish no longer had the power from before nor did the Jews, the time for Sicily’s sons to show the new world how its done was coming.
And who better than Luca to pave the way to glory.
“Really at your cousin’s wedding and your scheming, Luca?” Eva asks as she drinks the bubbly champagne they have to hide back home.
Prohibition had made them rich, with the stupid ideology that a ban on drink would make the nation sober Christians.
Only made it easier for the wolves to wear the snow white wool during the light of day.
“As if you’re not bored out of your mind either, pussycat.” He answers as he gets a better idea to pass the time.
On their wedding party they snuck away to fuck, during the trip here Eva had fucked herself on his cock as they shared a deck chair and just last night, they’d fucked until the sun rose.
Eva wanted a baby and it was taking its sweet time being conceived. The sooner it cane the sooner they could pretend the one they lost never existed.
“You’d think I didn’t leave you satisfied this morning with how you’re thinking, Lucito.” The witch murmured as if she didn’t have new lingerie made with a slit that had her pussy on display.
Her dress was short, not short enough to be scandalous, but practical for what he has in mind.
“And worth every penny.” The witch almost purred as he nudged her towards the empty dressing room down the hall.
Luca was a man of class, he’d never stoop so low as to fuck her in the powder room when the bride’s dressing room had elegant couches and a mirror to fuck in front of.
“You’re by far the most beautiful woman in the room, tonight, Mrs. Changretta.” Its not long until they’re tossing his aunt’s church veil off the lily white couch and he’s showing his wife how beautiful she looks with her pussy spread open on the mirror across them.
His maga has never felt insecure about her looks or her place in his heart, but seeing all the women Luca dallied with in Birmingham gathered under one roof, Eva had been on edge.
Didn’t help Thomas Shelby seemed to be intrigued by her and every second he tried not to stare was a second Luca spent thinking of how to kill the gypsy.
The Sicilian takes his time as he prepares her for him. Having her suck his long fingers as he praised her to the heavens.
“No one can ever compare to you, maga. Its why Shelby stares at you, ‘cause he can’t have you. No one can.” The gangster feels her moan around his fingers and knows she’ll make a mess before he even fucks her.
“I’m yours, daddy. Only yours.” The witch cries once her mouth is free and his fingers enter her trimmed little pussy rather audibly.
No smart comments nor other words come out of her as he gives her a taste of what’s too come.
He’s slow and methodical about this, he wasn’t forgotten by all those women for a reason.
Polly couldn’t keep to her husband’s bed when Luca came to visit his father and half-brother, neither was sure if little Sally had been Gray’s or his.
“The only woman who’s gonna give children is you, you’re gonna look so good with our baby growing inside you.” The party is in full swing outside, but Luca doesn’t give a shit about who’s missing them when his witch looks puts the whores in the pictures to shame.
She writhes and clenched around his fingers as she came, only words she could say was his name.
“You want me to fuck a baby into you right now, do you want daddy to fill you up with his cum as he tells you all the things you already know?” the gangster doesn’t need to do much to prepare himself for the main course, just the sight of them in the mirror had him harder than the rusted piece of iron he wore in his pocket the day he married her.
The witch could only nod as she bit back a rather loud moan.
“Let them hear you, amore, let them hear how good daddy fucks you.” He groans as he thrusts into her at the perfect angle.
And sure enough Eva cries and babbles loudly as he rams into her as deep as he can. “Oh, god, Luca!”
Its not long before she’s cumming again underneath, the white sofa bearing the testament of the capo’s virility just as he ruins her pussy as some romantic ballads try to drown the sinful sounds they make at the newlyweds expense.
And with such a sight before him, Luca came just as hard as he came on their wedding night.
“How long do we have until they come looking for us?” his wife asks with eyes shut as she recovered from their lovemaking.
“Long enough to ruin the sofa some more.” He answered panting from the exertion.
