*All sentences/paragraphs in italics symbolise sign language ♡ love you ! Part two for moonlightholland22, enjoy baby loves!
WARNINGS: SEXUAL ASSAULT, RAPE.
FYI, when I mention the terms "special" or "normal" I mean no offence, I am simply trying to make it as realistic this time period as I can. You're all beautiful beings who I appreciate greatly. love you ♡*
Hours had passed, the streets became quieter, and all you heard was the faint sounds of Grace humming away behind the bar. A part of you wanted to talk to her, introduce yourself even, but there was always that lingering worry that you'd struggle. You weren't afraid of being deaf, you weren't ashamed of it either, but with a new woman on the scene who you knew your dad had taken a liking too, you felt obliged to make the effort.
She was a nice woman - albeit from the small conversations you'd had with her - and she did try. You could tell she was trying to figure something out, looking at you the same way your father often did. She kept herself to herself around you, but your Uncle Arthur had told you on many occasions she'd been asking too many questions, and it made you wonder if it was you she was ignoring deliberately, or whether it was just your anxieties talking.
Staring at the same numbers your Uncle had fucked up, you were slowly going mad. On many days would your father confine you to the back room of the Garrison, your bedroom, the betting den or out with the horses with Uncle Charlie and Curly, just so he knew where you were. You knew he worried, heck, the whole city knew he worried, but he struggled to manage it. He struggled to give you leaway, and he struggled to allow you to go anywhere where he didn't know. For the most part you accepted it. Being a Shelby meant being a protecter and it meant you being a bloody King in and around Birmingham. He wasn't your King, he wasn't your protector, he was your fucking father.
He was the man who was supposed to shout at you for leaving your shoes where they shouldn't have been, shouting at you for drinking without his permission and coming home at an ungodly hour drunk and disorderly. He was supposed to shout at you for getting in trouble at school and for fooling around with boys. But, you were different. You never had the chance to go out drinking because you had every Shelby under the sun watching your every move. You never had the chance to go out with your friends and cause trouble because you would be the one who got the most stick for it. You never fooled around with boys because what boy would want a deaf girlfriend?
You weren't mad at it, as such. You enjoyed walking down the Lane and having innocent conversation with the residents of Small Heath who would run a mile when they saw your father. You enjoyed being handed a free piece of fruit in the morning by Mary just because you were kind enough to send her a smile. You didn't need the life your father lived, but it made you question that should you have been born normal, what would your life have been like?
But then again, you knew you wouldn't have your father's endless, undying and overbearing love like you do. You wouldn't have him still trying to hold your hand in the street when you walked together. You wouldn't have him come and check on you every night to check if you were asleep, and to give you one final kiss goodnight. It was the little things you cherished so much that made you somewhat grateful for being the way you were, but you couldn't help but imagine what life would have been like if your mother had never been hit by that car, and if that driver had never had been drinking, and ultimately, if she'd never have passed away.
"Y/N?"
"Y/N?"
It wasn't Grace's voice that pulled you from your trance, it was the hand that shut the book in front of you, giving you a fright. "Jesus fucking Christ!"
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thomas shelby's daughter // IMAGINES
FanfictionEmbrace and discover the life of the daughter of tommy shelby, king of Birmingham. Escape realities into the world of thomas shelby and his dysfunctional, yet very loveable family. Feel free to message me privately for a request. Mature content is...