#and i'm sick of staring at this in my documents

[i-cant-sing]

Time Traveller AU part 12

Part 1 is here. Part 2 is here. Part 3 is here. Part 4 is here. Part 5 is here. Part 6 is here. Part 7 is here. Part 8 is here. Part 9 is here. Part 10 is here. Part 11 is here. Time Traveller au masterlist is here. Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

You and Silas stared at each other.

"What do you mean "okay"?"

You nod. "Okay, I'll marry you."

He looked at you suspiciously. "Why?"

"Why not?"

"That is not an answer." He frowned, making you sigh as you turned your body to face him completely. "Look, you're going to pay me anyways right?" He nodded. "So, I need the money, and well... lets just say I have nothing else left to lose. Maybe I'm just bored."

Bored? More like pissed at the universe and I will not let it beat me to the ground anymore. I wont go out without causing chaos and maybe if someone tries to kill me again, I will perhaps consider disrupting the historical timeline to make the universe itself combust and unravel. If I'm suffering, I'm taking the universe along!

Silas gave you an incredulous look, before shrugging in defeat. "Very well, then."

"Wait-" You stop him from getting up. "Why did you choose me? Actually, why do you need a wife?"

He rolled his eyes, standing up, you following along. "Come on, Silas. Tell me. Is it cause I'm pretty? Smart-"

"You dressed as a man."

What?

"What?"

He looked down at you. "What? You didnt think I'd spot you in that poor disguise at the newspaper office that day?"

Silas saw me that day? He recognised me?

"How did you even-" He scoffed. "I'm intelligent. And I have eyes. I notice everyone and everything." He turned around and began walking away.

"Wait!" You ran after him. "That still doesnt answer my question! You're marrying me because I dressed like a man? What- you're attracted by that-"

"Stop talking." Silas cut you off abruptly. "I chose you because you work at the newspaper, not because you're a man."

"Oh. So you need someone to write out articles singing your praises?Cant you just pay someone to do that?"

He rolled his eyes. "No. I dont need someone to sing my praises. I need you to be the mole there. I want you to report everything that happens at the paper, specifically about the murders thats been on going these days."

Murders? Murders-

"The White Chapel murders?" He nodded. "I need the papers to focus on them, not on me or who I am marrying. I need them to put the pressure on the cops to catch that sick bastard! Not idolise him with that stupid alias-"

"Jack the Ripper." You finish for him. He breathes heavily, anger radiating off him. "Yes, that. Because its only causing people to either admire him for killing off those prostitutes or fear him, letting the idea of them terrorise them!"

"I see. But... why do you need to get married to me for that? I mean, if you pay me, I could just report to you everything from there, including his letters."

Silas looked at you in slight annoyance, as if mad that you couldnt figure out his motives.

"The papers are focusing on me and my marriage. If I get married, the news will only run for a week or two before diverting their attention to the papers. And before you ask why I'm marrying you specifically instead of someone much better suited to my tastes-" okay, not gonna take that insult to heart. "- I told you, you work at the paper, which means you'll report everything to me. And if I were to marry someone more influential, the papers will continue to write about us for longer. But you? You're a nobody- believe me, I checked. You have no family, dont come from nobility, so no one will talk about you. "

Great. "Wow, you do know how to flatter a woman."

Silas smirked. "Trust me, "a woman" would be flattered-" You shot him a glare before he could finish off his joke.

-

Silas and you got married later that night. He arranged an out-of-town priest, some official documents, and two witnesses for the vows, which were his butler Cadbury and his wife, Erin, who acted as the best man and maid-of-honor. It was obvious that Silas wanted to keep this ceremony a secret, and he told you that the time will come to break the news.

When the priest asked him to kiss you, SIias pulled a face and said to skip over that part because you had bad breath. You did not. Jerk.

But you were glad you didnt had to kiss him, so you didnt bother kicking his shin. Maybe nearly dying so many times has made you grow a pair, or maybe its the fact that you dont actually consider this a real marriage because a Nikkah (an Islamic wedding) ceremony did not happen, so technically, you're still single, but you're surprised at how... calmly you've come to terms with everything.

Silas let you go back to you house, because the marriage was the still a secret so there's no use keeping you around at his place. Besides, he needs you to continue working on the murders.

Honestly, you do kind of want to find out who Jack the Ripper is. Any historian worth his salt, dreams of this very opportunity you've been given- to find out the man behind all the horrendous, gut wrenching murders.

Colin watched you get up from your desk and go to the corner office where Will was working on the murders. Poor Will. Colin pitied the lad- he had to deal with the gruesome details of the murders, write out the articles in details that are just pallatable enough for the readers, only to be rejected by the editor who wanted the front page news to be about Silas FitzGeorge.

What were you doing there? Colin didnt think it was best for you to go in there, after the depressing weeks you'd barely pulled yourself through. Grisly details of a killing spree might not be what you need at the moment.

"Hey Will!" You walk in his office, changing your voice to that of a man.

"Holmes." He acknowledged you briefly, his hair a mess as well his desk. If anyone knew how giddy you were everytime someone in the office called you Sherlock Holmes, you'd be labelled a loser for sure.

"Still working on those murders, eh?" You walk closer to his desk. "Any leads on who the mystery man might be?"

"No." He glared at you. "I would, if the coppers were to do their job and the editor published my work, but noooo. God forbid we miss any details on that FitzGeorge fella and his tragic life. Cry me a fucking river-" Ah, a fellow Silas hater. You can work with that.

"Let me help you." You offer him. Will raises his brow, before scoffing. "Unless you can somehow have the editor publish my articles, I dont think you can help me. Besides, I dont need an amateur disturbing me because he's just wants to see a dead body."

Amateur? Pfft, I'll have you know I was a minor celebrity on Wattpad at just age 11 when I wrote Sherlock Holmes fanfics-

"How about this? If I can convince the editor to post your work, will you let me help?"

Will stares at you, studying you for a moment.

"Fine."

You walk out of his office and go to your desk where Colin is already waiting for you.

"Hey, Colin." You greet him, sitting down as you pull a blank sheet of paper from your drawer and start writing on it.

"Hey... Sherlock. What were you doing in-" He leans down to read what you're writing. "Jack The Ripper- why are you writing about him?"

You shrug. "Why not? He's an important figure to talk about and needs to be caught. If the papers bring enough attention to him, it'll put pressure on the authorities to work harder to catch him."

"I get that, but- I mean, you already have the FitzGeorges to write about and what about other douches in high society?" Colin tried to persuade you.

"I'll write about them too, in fact. Dont worry about it. I'm going to bring you some real dirt soon." You tell him before picking up the pen again, but Colin grasps your wrist, stopping you.

"Y/n, I just dont think that you should be working on this right now-"

"Colin." You cut him off, freeing your wrist. "I'm grateful for your concern for my well being, but I assure you- I am not made of glass. I can handle my business. Besides, this is something that has intrigued me. Let me work on it, please." You say before returning to writing down your points on the homicidal maniac.

-

After work, you changed out of your disguise and went to the antique store on Regent street, or what was left of it.

You knew there was no chance, but something inside you hoped that your time machine had survived.

The store was burnt down, and since the interior was mainly made of wood, most of the antiques had burnt to ashes or at least, damaged beyond repair and could not be sold.

You stood outside the ruins off the store, the property was sealed off and guards stood outside it, not letting you in.

"Please, I just need to-"

"Like I said, miss. We were given specific instructions not to let anyone in." The guard cut you off, annoyed by your insistence.

Before you could argue again, someone walked up behind you.

"Y/n." Henry looked at you. He was dressed well, his hair combed and face shaved, well kept as he usually was but his eyes.... he had bags under his eyes. Like he hadnt slept in days.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, um- I just wanted to see if my stuff is still there."

He nodded at his guards to step aside, leading you inside the shop.

"Look around. See if you can find it." Henry's tone was flat, as if he already knew.

Still, you looked around. You searched the whole place, not even finding the remains off your machine. And how could you? It was made of mostly plastic and very cheap metal, its not like you had funds to make it indestructible.

Or incombustible.

"Satisfied?" He asked you when you finally stopped looking for it.

You huff. "If you'd just given it to me before-"

"Y/n." He cut you off. "I lost my store. I lost my employee who was working in here, who was blasted to pieces. I lost more money than you can ever imagine and you have the nerve to stand there and try to blame it on me? After I'd given you the courtesy to look through my property to put your mind to ease?"

He admonished you, all while barely letting his rage slip through his voice. He was holding back from blowing up on you, but it did not help because you still felt small.

Because he is right. He lost an employee. He lost money. He lost too, and yet you have the audacity to complain to him like he was somehow at fault.

And he wasnt. Its not like he bombed his store.

"Do you know who did it?" You ask, diverting your eyes to avoid his piercing gaze.

"No one "did" it. It was an accident." Henry looked at the floorboard. "Apparently, there was gunpowder in some of the artefacts that came from China that day. The employee probably didnt check it when he put it on the table, next to a candle. Then one got lit up and it set off all the others, blowing up the whole store."

That... sounds like a big coincidence.

"Henry, are you sure someone wasnt behind this-"

"Y/n, I dont have time to entertain your wild theories right now. I have to deal with insurance and other things. Please leave." He cut you off abruptly.

Without giving him another moment to bruise your self esteem, you stormed out of his store. By the time you reached home, it was dark, which wasnt the best idea with a murderer on the loose- as the boys made it clear.

"Do you have any idea what he's capable of?! Have you seen the crime scenes?!" Liam yelled at you.

"No. But its not like I'm a prostitute, so he wont hurt me." You answer from your seat between Benjamin's legs, who insisted on brushing the knots out of your hair and placing some essential oils in your hair.

Liam looked at you like you'd grown two heads. "How would he know that?!"

You leaned forward, frowning. "Okay if you're saying that you cant the difference between a prostitute and me, then thats just insulting to me and to you as a police officer!"

Shepherd suppressed a chuckle as he handed a drink to Liam to calm him down. As they continued to joke around, you mind went to your time machine.

Sure, you could try making it from scratch again. It'll be difficult, and not just because there isnt enough technology to make the whole thing by yourself, but also because the mere idea of building a time machine could have you lobotomised.

So yes, one of the reasons why you agreed to marry Silas was because of his money that would not only let you buy expensive raw materials but also allow you to have a space to make the machine in secret.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door. Colin left to see who it was, returning moments later with a huge box in his hand.

"Its for you." He set the box down and handed you the letter that came with it. You read the letter while the boys opened the box-

"Tomorrow. 7:30 pm sharp.

Dont be late, missus."

The "missus" part gave away that it was from Silas. What was he planning? Were you supposed to go to his place or was he going to pick you up? What was going to happen tomorrow?

"Woah! Who is this from?" Shepherd asked as he looked at the fancy dress in the box. He pulled it out of the box, the gown flowing down effortlessly. "It looks expensive- this is expensive, right? Its expensive." He stated before repeating his question to you. "Who is it from, Y/n?"

You folded the letter as you saw them all looking at you. "I... I might have a date-"

"With who?" Benjamin asked sharply.

"I-" You sigh. "I'll let you know after the date. Lets see how it goes first."

"Oh, come on! Just tell us!" Liam probed, but you took the dress from him, putting it back in the box and taking it to your room, not noticing how silent Colin had went.

-

You stood in front of the mirror, looking at your reflection while Ben did your hair. Wearing the black velvet gown that had a white blouse and long skirt underneath, puffy regency era sleeves and a belt at the bust, you looked elegant.

Seeing as you had no jewellery to pair the outfit with, Ben styled your hair down, curling the locks and putting a dainty black silk bow on the back, trimming the front of your hair so that they framed your face.

"There's a carriage waiting for you!" Shepherd informed you before going back to gushing about the rich fella you'd managed to bag.

You turned around for Ben for the finishing touches. He smiled softly at you, taking your hands in his and squeezed them gently.

"Dont force yourself to do anything you're not comfortable with, hm? Just because he gave you this dress doesnt mean he can do anything he wishes." You nodded, returning his smile. "And remember, you have me and the boys to beat anyone who upsets you, Y/n." He winked making you giggle.

Standing outside the carriage, you looked up and waved to the 3 boys standing in the window before getting inside.

"Ah, I hope she knows how to use that knife I gave her." Liam mumbled, making Shepherd yell at him.

"You gave her a knife?!"

"What? She needs to protect herself when there's a murderer on the lose-"

As the two continued to bicker, Benjamin went to his room and packed some scissors and razors in a small bag, before leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Colin asked, finally speaking for the first time that evening. Sitting on the sofa chair, he'd been nursing on a drink the entire time you were getting ready for your drink. He kept quiet, pretending to be to engrossed with reading the paper to notice you getting dressed for your date night.

"I... have a client." Ben said, putting on his top hat and leather gloves before wearing his coat.

"This late?" Colin raised a brow.

Ben gave a nod.

"He... he needs a haircut urgently."

Colin stared at him before sighing, picking up his drink.

"Alright. Be careful. Its foggy out there."

-

Sitting inside the carriage alone, you wondered where the buttler was taking you. Since Silas isnt here with you, then its likely that you're being taken to him at the FitzGeorge estate.

You take a deep breath, fiddling with the velvet of your dress. So tonight will be the night he announces his marriage to you. Or maybe not. I mean, if he did plan on doing that then perhaps he'd be giving you some pointers on how to win over his family? To get their approval? It was a big thing for high society, if not for someone who is loosely attached to royalty.

Maybe thats why he called you over tonight. To soft launch you to his family, something like- "hey, this is Y/n, a girl I fancy. I think she might be the one." so that it seems a lot more believable when he does introduce himself as your husband, probably a few weeks or a month from now.

Yes. Silas doesnt seem like the type to just spring up the union on his family out of nowhere. He is English, he is noble, he wouldnt be one to cause a scene.

The carriage stopped after sometime, and you could hear people chattering outside. Your door suddenly opened, but before you could step out, someone stepped in.

It was Silas.

He sat across from you, wearing a formal dress black suit, his hair styled properly. If your dressing didnt give it away, then his did- it was definitely a black-tie event.

He gave you a nod of acknowledgement, looking you up and down.

"Here, wear this." He handed you a velvet lined box. Opening it, you saw a beautiful pearl necklace and matching tear drop earrings.

"Oh, this is... beautiful." You said in awe. "You could've sent this along with the dress, I would've worn my hair differently-"

"No, I didnt want to risk you running off with it." Silas casually insulted you as he began opening the door. "Wear this and dont talk to me or approach me in there."

"Wait, what?" You looked at him confusion.

Silas huffed in irritation. "I'm going to go back inside. You'll walk in after five minutes, and when you do, you will not talk to me, or approach me or do anything that gives away that you know me."

"Silas-" But he left before you could question what he was on about.

So... he wasnt planning on announcing his marriage to you tonight? Wearing the jewellery, you followed his instructions and exited the carriage exactly five minutes later.

But instead of seeing the FitzGeorge house, you were standing in front of a... palace.

A palace you're seen quite a few times.

Buckingham palace.

"What am I...?" You whispered to yourself before composing yourself as other guests began walking past you.

As you ascended the stairs to the entrance where guards stood, you wondered if they'd let you in. Surely, without Silas by your side or an official invitation, they wouldnt let you in. You watched a few guests holding an envelope with a royal seal, an invitation they showed to the guards before being let in.

Heart pounding as you feared the embarrassment you're about to face, you reached the guards who looked at you for a few moments, trying to recognise you before their eyes fell on your necklace and they let you pass.

Ah, so thats why he gave you the jewellery. If you looked like you belonged there, then you probably did.

Why am I here though?

You looked around and saw many people inside, all belonging from high society. This definitely wasnt the place where Silas was going to announce his marriage. So why did he invite you here?

Maybe he wants me to use this as an opportunity to get dirt on high society?

Yes, perhaps, but how would this serve him? Is there a specific person he wants me to get dirt on? Someone I need to write about in the papers?

Silas, what game are you playing?

You spotted him standing in the corner, talking with his cousins and uncles, though you noticed many girls looking at him. Of course, he still is the "most eligible bachelor" to them. If they knew how rude he was, maybe they'd change their opinion.

Walking through the crowd, you began listening on conversations, trying to pick up on interesting bits. It was the usual obnoxious bragging about their wealth, some scandals here and there, disturbing comments about women, etc. Nothing particularly interesting.

Fortunately, you werent bored for long as the royal butler announced the arrival of the hosts. It hadnt truly hit you where you were standing until you heard her name-

"Her Majesty, Queen Victoria-"

Queen Victoria. The Queen Victoria.

You could feel goosebumps raising on your skin, your eyes widening as you realised you're looking at one of the most iconic figures in history. Alive. She's alive and she's walking right in front of you-

She's short. They were right about that. Standing next to her husband, Prince Albert, she looked even shorter. But she looked incredibly happy, full of youth as she stood next to him, unlike all the paintings who depicted her as this angry old widow.

She looked absolutely beautiful.

Her children stood behind her in order, all smiling at their mother. Her daughters, you recognised them all, looked just as beautiful. You recognised her eldest, Edward VII, a 20-something old boy who would end up being hated by his mother and blamed for his father's death. He looked nervous, standing beside her and you could see he was just itching to leave her side and avoid any more scrutiny.

The Queen began speaking.

"Thank you everyone for joining us on this pleasent occasion." She looked around. "Tonight, we are going to welcome a member to our family, even though he has always been a part of us. But now, we will make things official."

"Silas FitzGeorge." She called suddenly. You saw Silas step forward in front of the queen, bowing his head curtly before looking at her confidently.

"You're my cousin Georgie's grandson, and I have no doubt when I say that if he were here tonight, he'd be just as proud of the young man you've become as I am. Our families may have had some issues in the past, but I have always accepted you as a part of me. Over the years, you've only proven me right with how capable you've become on your own, without seeking a helping hand in your adversities. You have made us all immensely proud, as well as your predecessors for being the first man in our family to attend Oxford university. Watching you start businesses and expand your empire, I have no doubt that you will only continue to make the royal family and Britian proud. Therefore, I would like to offer my support and make good on my promise that I made to you when you were a child."

She turned around and a servant handed her a document.

"I hereby make Silas FitzGeorge, the Duke of Westminster."

Oh. Ohhhhh. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhh-

This was Silas's dukedom ceremony. Why is this a huge deal? Because his grandfather, Prince George was once estranged from the royal family and stripped off his royal duties and benefits when he married Sarah Fairbrother, which meant their descendents were all illegitimate and not recognised by the crown.

But tonight, with Silas becoming a duke, its like a welcome back to the family. That too, by the same woman who had in essence- ostracised his family.

And with Dukedom comes other benefits, money, property, influence. Not to mention that Silas has become the duke of Westminster, as in THE WESTMINSTER! One of the wealthiest dukedoms to get, and also where Westminster palace is, the place which is the meeting place for the Parliament of United Kingdom. It'll allows Silas to have a say and play around with politics.

This is a huge gesture by the queen, and if Silas wasnt the most eligible bachelor before, then he definitely is one.

You watched the queen sign the documents first, before giving it to Silas who signed it. Everyone cheered and clapped for the young duke before stopping as Victoria began speaking again.

"Now, I would like to share more good news." She smiled at Silas, who stood beside her now. "I would like to announce the new duke's betrothal to my daughter, Helena."

What?

The guests clapped again as you saw Silas looking ahead, purposely avoiding your gaze. The queen beamed as she looked back at Helena, who was blushing.

So this is why Silas didnt want you to talking to him. He knew he was going to marry Helena, and he didnt want anyone to even doubt that he's associated with you in any way. Is this his way of telling you that the sham marriage between you two has ended?

Victoria encouraged Silas to say a few words.

Silas looked down briefly, a small smile playing on his lips. "Oh, wow. I am grateful that her majesty has awarded me dukedom. I dont have enough words to express how thankful I am to you." He looked up and you saw a mischievous glint in his eyes. "However, I was only informed of this ceremony and not of my betrothal beforehand."

The queen's head snapped in his direction, as did all of the royals, but Silas continued speaking unfazed.

"I wish I had been told about this earlier to avoid this awkward situation uhhh..." he chuckled nervously, but you could see he was anything but nervous. "I am honoured to be even considered for the princess's hand, your majesty, but I'm afraid I am already married." He announced, looking straight at you.

The hall interrupted into gasps and whispers before they parted the way to let Silas make his walk to you.

With a charming smile, a dimple on his left cheek, he approached you, pulling you into his arms as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

"Hi, sweetheart." He whispered loud enough for the onlookers to hear. Your eyes widened, your face flushed at the feeling of everyone's eyes and at his word.

"Si-" The words died down your throat as he placed an arm around your back and pulled you close to his side, showing you off.

"This is Y/n, my darling wife."

With Silas's announcement, the hall went silent once again. Your throat went dry at being put in the spotlight, and your eyes flickered from one guest to another, until finally falling on the queen's, who looked... pissed.

Finally, it was Prince Albert who broke the silence and announced dinner had been served. As the guests began walking out of the hall, Silas lead you out of the palace and to the carriage where his grandmother was waiting for you.

"Go home, now. I'll see you soon." Was all Silas said to you before whispering something to his grandmother, who beamed and nodded, patting his cheek.

"Come on, Y/n. Its getting late, now." Sarah said as she lead you into the carriage, taking her seat next to you, completely unaware of the eyes that had been following you since the moment you'd left home.

-

Silas returned inside, seeing his uncles smirking with pride at the game he'd just played but instead of going to them to celebrate his victory, he went to Prince Albert and Queen Victoria who seemed to be arguing in a low tone in the corner while the guests were being seated in the dining hall.

Clearing his throat, he got their attention.

"Your majesties, I am so sorry for not informing you about my union with Y/n. Its just my wife is terribly shy and we wanted to keep this marriage a secret. But I understand how this creates an embarrassing situation for the crown, and I would like to humbly turn down my dukedom-"

"No." The queen cut him off, her eyes void of any emotion. "The dukedom was awarded to you for your achievements, not because you were asked to marry my daughter. Helena is not something to pawn off to just anyone."

Silas offered a sympathetic smile. "Of course, your majesty. I'm sure you'll find a better suitor for the princess." He took his bow before turning around to enter the dining hall while Victoria stared at his back.

"Are you really still going to keep him as the duke of Westminster?" Albert asked his wife.

She was fuming. But only Albert could tell.

"What choice did I have?" Victoria asked, still glaring at the young boy who dared to play her. "If I took the dukedom away after announcing it publicly, it would've been a far more embarrassment for the crown. They would call us "cheap"."

"We cant let him get away with it." Albert whispered. "Its Westminster. We may rule it, but the duke will still be able to influence the government."

"You think I'm not aware he wants to play politics?" Victoria snapped, before softening her tone. "I wont let him get away with it, Albert. He's just a boy. I am a queen. I wont let him or anyone humiliate us."

Silas sat down besides his cousins as his uncles raised their glasses to him. He sipped his drink, a satisfied grin resting on his face. He knew exactly what he did. Even though no one actually told him that the dukedom came with marriage to the princess, because how callous would it be to ask him to marry her when no one would give up the opportunity of becoming the queen's son-in-law, Silas knew he was expected to marry Helena.

But no one said it. No one asked him. Its the English, they never say what they mean outright, choosing to read between the lines and do what is expected of them, because its more artful, more honourable this way.

Not that Silas could care about traditions. Why would he, when he planned on exacting his revenge?

The queen only came to offer her support when he became successful enough on his own. Where was she when his parents died and his sister was left to take care of him? Sure, Victoria attended the funeral and "promised" to take care of him. But she also said she'd only do that if he proved himself. His grandmother and his sister, Daisy were the ones who raised him.

And now, years later when he got into Oxford without using his family name, without saying "I am related to the queen", when he used his skills to create a powerful business empire that has the potential to influence the British industries, she wants him?

Sure, Westminster has its benefits, but Silas doesnt need Westminster. Westminster needs Silas. He could topple over the government and even shut down Britain herself with just his influence alone. Being a duke just has given him a public platform, an acknowledgement and most importantly, backing from the crown.

And you? Marrying you wasnt just because you happened to be around. Oh no. Silas has plans for you, plans to use you and further his revenge. This is just the beginning.

-

Sarah dropped you back at your place after you insisted that you needed to inform your flatmates of your departure. She gave you a disapproving look when she found out you were living with 4 men and was very determined to have you move in with her and Silas at the FitzGeorge estate, but you were able to persuade her to let you stay the night at home one last time.

"There's something I need to tell you guys." You fiddled with your thumbs as they all sat down in front of you.

"I um... I'm married."

"What?" Shepherd asked. "And you still went on a date?"

"I went on a date with my husband-"

"And who is that?"

You took a deep breath.

"Silas FitzGeorge."

Everyone except for Benjamin broke into laughter.

"Yeah, good one. Seriously, who is it?"

You frowned. "Seriously. Its Silas FitzGeorge."

As you began explaining your situation, even showing them the jewellery that you definitely werent wearing before you left, they started to believe you.

"Y/n- you cant- you cant marry Silas. You cant just marry someone you barely know!" Colin argued.

"What? Havent you heard of "love at first sight"?" You ask but he was unamused. Sighing, you shrugged. "Look, its a marriage that will benefit us both mutually. He gets people nagging him to get married off his back and I get to use his money and influence to get dirt on high society! Besides, I can leave him anytime I want."

"Then leave him now, before its too late." Ben said, standing up as he approached you. He took your shoulders and gave them a firm squeeze. "If its money you're worried about, I'll help you. I can provide for you, Y/n. Dont get into bed with these rich bastards, you dont know how selfish they can be. I- I- dont want you to get hurt-"

"I wont, Benny." You grab his arms, assuring him. "Silas and I are working together. If I go down, so will he. He wont hurt me, he cant. Its too risky for him now, you know? He announced our marriage tonight in front of the queen!"

As you began telling him about how you met the queen and all, Colin quietly left the living room to pour himself another drink, something to knock his brain out so he doesnt have to think about you and Silas.

-

Next day, before the sun even rose, you had packed up a few of your things to go live with the FitzGeorges. All the boys were awake at that time, though Colin's eyes were bloodshot from apparently drinking the wrong liqour, so he sat quietly on the sofa, watching you.

Liam and Shepherd took your bags to put it in the carriage waiting outside, while Ben pulled you in for a hug.

"I'm just moving out, Benny! I'll still see you guys." You laugh, patting his back.

Ben kissed the crown of your head before tucking it under his chin, arms tightening around you. "Just know that you will always have a home here, with us. Dont hesitate to reach out for help. And if Silas or anyone every hurts you, I dont care how rich they are, Y/n. I will take care of them. You just- just come back to us, hm?"

You pulled away from him, wiping a lone tear from your eye. "You're the best, Benny." You whisper before going to Colin, who just stared at you with red eyes.

Leaning down, you poked his cheek. "Kinda wish you werent drunk when I said goodbye, but I guess it makes it easier." Colin continued to stare at you. You grabbed his hand, smiling gratefully at him. "Thank you for everything, Colin. You saved me. Truly." You gave his hand a firm squeeze before leaving, missing him mumble something under his breath.

The carriage took you to the FitzGeorge estate and you were a little disappointed to see only Sarah waiting to welcome you. Its not like you wanted Silas to make a grand gesture to welcome his bride, but you were kinda hoping he was going to ease you into his world while explaining the events of the previous night.

Sarah showed you around the house before leading you to Silas bedroom.

"Cadbury has already placed your bags in there." She turned to you. "This will be your space too, so do make changes to the place as you please."

You smiled shyly at her. Honestly, you dont know whether Sarah knows that Silas only married you for personal agenda, but she wasnt surprised when Silas announced you were his wife.

Sarah looked at you and she placed a hand on her chest, touched.

"Oh, I am so glad you're Silas's girl."

Silas's girl?

"When Silas told me he married you, I was only mad that he did it behind my back! But I suppose it is understandable... these FitzGeorge men always liked to make a statement when it came to love." Sarah said, fondly remembering her late husband.

Sarah continued to gush about you enough for you to know that you dont need to kiss her ass. You have her approval.

When she left, you looked around the large bedroom, Victorian and dark academia was the aesthetic. Wooden panels lined the room, the shelves were stocked with thick books, a study table in one corner, an ottoman chest seat in front of the bed. The entire room was illuminated by the large windows that opened into the balcony, overlooking the large gardens and the cold air of London.

Standing at his balcony, you couldnt help but wonder...

Silas definitely has to HAVE a mega douchebag personality if this was where he was raised.

I mean who wouldnt have an ego trip if they woke up to a view like this, a butler named CADBURY who probably brings him his bland tea and tells him about all the proposals he had, and Silas would just wave a hand in dismissal, telling his butler to reject them all on his behalf.

Silas lived like a king. Or at the very least, lived like the 1% of Britain.

Returning back into the room, you looked at the interior before a grin formed on your face.

Time to snoop around, Y/n. You made your way to his desk.

Lets see what secrets you're hiding, husband.

-

Silas walked in on you folding your clothes and placing them in his closet.

"What do you think you're doing?" He huffed, loosening his tie. He was still in his clothes from last night, having just returned home after celebrating with his uncles and cousins.

You turned to him, faking enthusiasm. "Hello to you too."

Silas rolled his eyes, sitting on his bed. "Dont touch my things." He began untying his shoes.

"Why? You worried my poverty would taint them?"

He looked you dead in the eyes.

"Yes."

"Haha." You close the closet and turn to him. "We need to talk."

He looked at you miserably. "Cant it wait-" "No."

"Fine, then. Go on, I'm listening." He leaned against the headboard while you took your place on the foot of the bed.

"Why didn't you tell me last night that we were going to the palace? Or that you were going to announce our marriage?"

Tired eyes looked at you. "I didnt want to risk you getting cold feet."

Okay. Fair enough.

You gave him a nod. "Fine. Still would've liked a heads-up." "I'll keep that in mind for next time. Good night-" He began closing his eyes when you spoke again.

"No. We still need to talk about our situation." You looked at your lap, smoothing your dress before looking at him again, only to find his tired eyes studying you.

"Silas, who knows that our marriage is not... real?"

"It is a real marriage. We signed proper documents and all." He told you. "What you mean to ask is who knows our marriage is like mutually beneficial business deal? The answer is- no one, except for my butler and his wife, who wont say a word. And I want it to stay that way."

You raised a brow. "So... what exactly is the image you're trying to sell to the world? That we're a young couple, madly in love?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Silas." Your tone turned serious. "If you want people to believe this fairytale you're creating, then you need to get your stories straight. And involve me in it too!"

He tilted his head at you before sighing. "Fine. Lets say... we met two months ago."

"Where?"

He grinned. "Ballet theatre. Near Oxford university."

"Ballet theatre- are you trying to use your grandparents story?"

He shrugged. "So what if I am? Besides, people will love it."

You glared at him, but he continued on with his story. "So we met at the ballet theatre, you fell madly in love with me the first time you saw me. Your exact words were- "Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father, have I died and went to heaven to witness the utter beauty of an angel-"

"I have seen rodents looking better than you." You cut him off.

"You're ruining my story." He scolded you. "Fine, we can say that after you were mesmerised by my beauty, you stalked me for a few weeks until I finally said yes out of pity-"

"Silas."

He raised his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. I'll leave the details to you, just remember- we met at the theatre. Thats the most important part of the story."

"Okay, I'll add my version of the events, which you can read in the papers in a day or two." You stood up, walking over to the vanity. "I will be going to work from tomorrow. I'll tell your grandmother I'm going to visit some friends, and you'll drop me off at my old place where I'll change my clothes and then I'll go to the office."

"Very well." He turned his head to look at you. "But after you're done writing about us, continue working on the White Chapel murders."

You hummed, turning around. "Dont worry, I should be able to get access to the letters in a few days. Wait- Silas, didnt you say your friend owned the paper I worked for?" He nodded. "Well, can you ask him if he could let me, I mean- assign Sherlock Holmes to work on the case? You could bribe him with giving an exclusive interview about your marriage for the papers, in return, he has to let me work the murder story."

"Consider it done." Silas said, putting his arm over his eyes.

"Um, Silas?"

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"Where am I to sleep?" With Sarah in the house, its not like you can occupy another room. It'll raise suspicion.

Silas removed his arm to look at you, before looking at his large bed.

You shake your head. "I am not sleeping in the same bed with you-"

"I wouldnt want that either." He said, grabbing a pillow. Your heart warmed at the gesture. He really was going to leave his bed for you, like the true gentleman-

Thud.

You looked at the pillow he'd thrown on the floor.

"There." He pointed before returning to bed.

"You want me to sleep on the floor?"

With his eyes closed, he replied. "You say that like you expected me to sleep on the floor."

"Well-"

"Its my room, my bed. Why would I sleep on the floor?"

"I dont know, whats the word- chivalry?!" You huffed, grabbing the pillow and walking near the closed balcony window. It was cold but you'd rather sleep with a pretty view than to wake up to Silas feet landing on your face.

Muttering curses under your breath, you soon fell asleep with your back turned to Silas. A few minutes later, he got off the bed and dropped a blanket on your sleeping body.

And they say chivalry is dead. He thought to himself, returning to his bed.

-

The next day, while dropping you off to work, you brought up the previous day's convo.

"I need something." Silas's gaze flickered from the window of the carriage to you. "What do you know about Henry Blackwood?"

Silas' looked bored again. "He's a fellow businessman, invests in people rather than companies, likes to keep his operations in the dark, which means he has secrets. His shop blew up some time ago, allegedly a "technical failure" but... I think someone did it."

"You think so too?" You asked, hopeful. "Do you know who?"

Silas shook his head. "No. His enemies, like his operations are secret. All I know is someone did it to send a message to him, blew up the shop deliberately while he was out."

A message?

"I want to get dirt on him." You watch Silas raise a brow at you. "Just... get me close to him, or to his people. I saw him talking to your uncles, maybe they know something?"

Silas shakes his head again. "My uncles talk to anyone who has money. Henry wouldnt ever invest in them, they couldnt manage a business for the life of them."

"And you? Would Henry invest in you?"

Silas nodded. "He's tried. I wasnt interested." He cut you off before you could even suggest the idea. "And I'm still not interested. But I'll get you close to him."

"Thank you." You settled back in your seat before remembering another request. "Silas?"

"What now?"

"Can I have some money?"

"Here's a pound-" You glared at him, making him sigh. "How much?"

"Mmhm, oh I dont know... just enough to buy a small house-"

"And why do you need a house?"

You looked at him dumbfounded. "Well, when our marriage goes to the sewers, I would like to have a roof over my head."

"And what if I say I dont intend on ending this marriage?" Your blood ran cold at his words.

"What?"

Silas tilted his head at you before chuckling. "Why have you turned pale? If anyone should be horrified at the prospect of staying married in this mismatch, completely unbalanced relationship, it should be me. Struck down, caught out of the lake in his prime, of both beauty and brain-"

"Oh God, please stop talking before blood starts pouring out of my ears."

"So you agree your voice is irritating enough to do that?" Silas remarked smirking.

"Shut up." You flared your nostrils at him. Why does he have to ruin my mood this early in the day?

He chuckled victoriously, looking out the window. "I'll get you the house. You dont need money for it." He looked at you, already knowing you'd be confused. He grinned, pointing to himself. "Duke of Westminster-" he then points at you. "Duchess of Westminster."

Of course. Now that you're married to the duke, you have a whole lot of land in your hands. You really can have a house anywhere you'd like.

The carriage stopped. "Off you go now, wife."

Entering the office, you were first greeted by Will, the man in charge on working on the White Chapel murders.

"Holmes! How did you do it?" He shook you by the shoulder gleefully. "How did you convince the boss to post my story next?!"

I married his friend. "Oh, I just... promised him an article. Once I give him that, we can work together on the murder story."

He nodded, ushering you to finish off your article first before helping him.

Making your way to your desk, you spotted Colin. "Hey, Colin-" But he walked right past you, as if he didnt hear you.

Maybe he didnt. You shrugged, sitting down at your desk as you began writing down the news about you and Silas.

-

"Oh, Mr Holmes has definitely written most accurately about you Y/n!" Sarah said as she read the papers at the breakfast table. "He calls you the "fairest maiden in town" and "beauty with brains"- oh, I couldnt agree more!"

You smiled, sipping your tea sheepishly while Silas rolled his eyes. Its been 3 days since you wrote an article announcing your marriage to the world, and the editor decided to post it on Sunday, when you and most of London had off from work, all tuning in to read "how the most eligible bachelor bagged the fairest maiden in town."

Sarah ate some of the dishes you'd prepared today. "These are absolutely delicious, Y/n! Silas, your wife-" A maid came in to inform her that there's someone at the door to meet her. As Sarah excused herself, you got up from your seat to serve Silas the food you'd made on Sarah's request.

Silas picked up his fork and took a bite, a smile forming on his lips.

"Have I ever told you how good of a cook you are?"

You blushed, looking down. "No-"

"Then why do you keep cooking?" He dropped his fork on the plate, pushing it aside. "Stop using my kitchen." He smirked as he drank his tea, watching rage take over your face.

"Listen you twat-"

Sarah came back rushing in, a worried look on her face. Silas immediately sat up. "What is it, nana?"

"The- there was someone here from the palace." She gulped. "They sent flowers and a letter congratulating you two on the marriage. They... they said they'd like to meet Y/n and- and welcome the new couple officially."

Silas understood Sarah's worry. The palace never writes to them. In fact, the last time they did, it was years ago when his parents had died.

Getting up from his seat, Silas wiped his face with a napkin before dropping it on the table. "Then we'll let them. We shall host the Queen."

"Si-" But he took her by the shoulders, easing Sarah's worry.

"Dont worry. This is our home, nana." We have the advantage.

Silas left to start making arrangements for hosting the queen at the estate, while Sarah ran around the house with the staff to prepare for the event that is a week from now. Seeing as you couldnt be of use there and everyone was too busy to give you any pointers on what to say or act when the queen arrives, you left the estate to explore the town. Or more specifically, return to the blown up vintage store.

Yep, you're still hoping your time machine survived.

When you arrived on Regent street, you saw the same men still guarding the store, so they probably still wouldn't have let you in. But you also saw Henry, who was leaving the store and in his carriage.

Deciding to follow him, you sneaked into the back of someone's carriage and rode it before jumping off it when it got near Henry's carriage. Fortunately, you didnt have to follow him for long as he got off on Piccadilly street soon and strolled into a place called "The Gentlemen's Club" and from the looks of the daunting bouncers standing outside, you knew you couldnt just stroll in like Henry.

You watched the people who seemed to walk into the club, mostly men, all dressed formally and looked like they were a part of the high society. You saw some women too, though most of them dressed scandalously, so you assume they were there to provide entertainment.

As the sun began setting, more and more people started entering the club and just when you were about to leave, you saw Henry walk out of the club, a frown settled on his face. You werent expecting him to leave the club so soon, not when more people had started going in there, to rave or whatever. If Henry was here for pleasure, then he came out too early. If he was here for business, then most of the club goers have just begun entering, which means that whoever he wanted to conduct business with was already in there. Someone who works at the club... maybe even owns it?

As you turned to leave, you felt someone bump into you.

"Watch where you're going!" The blonde haired woman shrieked at you before crossing the street to go to the club.

You huffed. Everyone's got a giant stick up their-

You whipped your head around, feeling someone watching you. And thats when you spot it- a shadowy figure of a man, standing in the window of the club, on the second floor. Henry? No, he left. Then...?

The shadow didnt move, staring at you until it creeped you enough to make you leave.

-

Silas finally sat down after working all day. Cadbury brought him his evening tea.

"How are the preparations coming along?" He asked his butler. Cadbury informed him of the arrangements he's made and the guest list he's written down that needs his approval before he sends out the invitations.

"And the seamstress will come tomorrow to make a gown for Miss Y/n-"

Silas cut him off. "No need. Send the seamstress to me first. I'll let her know what kind of clothes need to be made for the event, then she can take Y/n's measurements."

"As you wish, sir." Cadbury said, but Silas could see something troubling the young butler. They werent that apart in age, and both of them had practically grown together, each reading the other person well.

"What's the matter, Cadbury?" Silas set his teacup down.

Cadbury took a deep breath. "Its just- I dont understand why the palace is suddenly coming to visit you, after what happened at the dukedom ceremony. It was certainly... humiliating for them, so why would they be coming to welcome Miss Y/n into the family?"

Silas grinned. "They're coming to see who I replaced the princess with." He picked up his cup. "They couldnt break me down, so they're going to try their luck with the missus. There's another reason why the queen is coming, but you let me worry about that."

Cadbury looked concerned. "Then we should prepare Miss Y/n to make no mistakes."

"Dont worry, she wont." Silas smiled, making his butler even more confused. "Speaking of, did you observe her when she was cooking in the kitchen today?"

Cadbury nodded. "Yes. And as you'd said, she didnt touch, let alone cook with bacon or wine despite my insistence that its your favourite. She replaced the meats, and didnt use any alcohol at all!"

Silas chuckled, his eyes gleaming with intent. "Perfect. Just as I'd suspected." He looked at Cadbury again. "Are there any leftovers from the food she'd made?"

"Yes. I was about to throw it out-"

"No. Bring them to me. I'll eat them. If Y/n asks, tell her you fed it to the dogs and then they got violently sick." Cadbury was confused as he left to bring him the food. He thought that Silas didnt like your cooking, at least from what he'd heard him say to you.

Oh. Maybe the young duke just doesnt want to acknowledge that he enjoyed your food.

-

A week passed by quickly and the day of the royal dinner came. You were freaking out because Silas had barely spoken two words to you about how to act or what to say, just telling you to act as yourself and he'll take care of the rest.

"What the hell...?" You muttered, watching your reflection in the mirror. Okay, you're not a conservative, but even you knew that this plunging neckline was a little too much skin for this time period, especially in front of the queen!

You were wearing a white satin and lace gown- wedding gown, if you were being honest. All that was missing was a veil, but you guess that would be a little too much on the nose. The dress was beautiful, no doubt, but it was missing a whole lot of cloth around the neckline, the tight corset making your chest puff out slightly more with a snatched waist. Your collar bones looked prominent, but you would credit that to the bland food served in London. Seriously, why do they act like vampires when it comes to adding garlic?

"Your husband had this dress designed specifically for you, madame!" The seamstress told you as she added her finishing touches. "He must love you a lot!" You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you wore the jewellery he'd sent for you.

Yes. Thats why I sleep on the floor while he sleeps in his bed. Hope he suffocates under those plush sheets. My backache is the sign of our true love.

"Oh, who did that to your hair?" You heard a voice behind you and you turned around quickly.

"Benny!" You squealed, watching Ben, Liam, Shepherd and Colin enter your room. "Ah, I'm so glad you all came."

"Of course we did. There's free booze-" Shepherd smacked Liam on the back of his head. "We're here because we're happy for you."

"And because they wanted to see the queen." Colin said, rolling his eyes, making the other two bicker with him.

"How's Silas treating you? Are you happy?" Ben asked in a low tone as he fixes your hair.

Oh Ben. He reminds you so much of Qasim. "Yes, Benny. Silas is very good to me. I couldnt be happier."

Ben had a sad smile on his face as he nodded.

Just a few minutes later, Silas entered your room. "Y/n. Gentlemen." He nodded to them, before pulling you aside. "I need to talk to you."

You looked at him surprised. Silas was concerned. He was nervous about something. You've never seen him break a sweat.

"What is it, Silas?"

"The queen is onto us."

"What?"

Silas looked at you exasperated. "She knows about our sham marriage." He casted a look to the boys, who were pretending like they werent trying to hear what he was whispering to you. Silas pulled you close by your elbow to whisper. "I have a source telling me that the queen knows you... you're not a Christian. That you're a Muslim."

You pull back to look at him wide eyed. "How- how did she- how did you-?"

"I suspected, you confirmed it now. But she knows. And she's coming here tonight to expose us. If she tells everyone tonight, then she'll be able to take away my dukedom and she will make our lives hell!"

Your throat went dry. "What- what do we do?"

"There's a way." Silas grip on your arm tightened. "We get married for real."

You tilted your head in confusion before shaking your head at what he was implying. "Silas, no-"

"We get a Nikkah."

A Nikkah? If... if you get a Nikkah with him, an Islamic wedding ceremony, then you'll be married to him for real. No- no, the only reason you'd agreed to his proposal was because you knew it was a fake marriage, it didnt really affect your conscious because it was a sham! But-

"No. Silas-"

"Y/n, please." Silas pleaded. "Dont make me beg. If the queen finds out, everything I've worked so hard for, it'll be for naught. She'll take it all away. Dont you- dont you want to help catch the lunatic behind those murders? Dont you want to make a difference by writing? If you dont do this, if you dont stand by me, we'll both be done for!"

You looked at him conflicted, your resolve starting to break as he continued to talk. "My sister, my parents, my grandfather... my family... they need me, Y/n. They need me to pull this off, for me to reinstate our honour, for me to remove the stain and stigma from my family's name. Please, I'm asking you to do this for me... for my family." He swallowed thickly, his eyes boring into you with intensity. "You once told me you lost everything. I'm telling you now that I'll lose everything if we dont do this. Will you let me lose everything, Y/n?"

Lose everything? Everything?

You shake your head. "No, Silas. I... I wont let you lose everything."

10 minutes later, there was an imam in your room. Silas had somehow managed to find an imam in London to marry you two off. But you suppose when you're so rich and well connected, you can find anyone.

This is happening. This is really happening.

With Ben, Colin, Liam and Shepherd as your witnesses and Cadbury and his wife as Silas's witnesses, the imam began the Nikkah ceremony.

Am I really getting married?

You watched the imam ask Silas some questions, and you tuned them out except for one.

"Are you a Muslim?"

You looked up. A flicker of hope! Yes! If Silas isnt a Muslim, he cant marry you! The Nikkah wont happen, or at the very least wont be real because he's not Muslim! He cant marry you, this will still be a sham marriage, a paper marriage and your conscious will be clear and you wont feel like throwing up-

"Yes. I converted an hour ago." Silas informed the imam. "I took my shahada, in sound mind and state, of my own will without any pressure or coercion."

No. Oh no-

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?"

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" The imam repeated.

"I do."

"Do you take Y/n to be your wife?" He asked again.

"I do." And with that, Silas signed the Nikkah contract. The officiant then turned to you.

"With the agreed mahr, do you take Silas to be your husband?"

"Mahr?" You whisper in a daze. The officiant looks confused. "Do you not know what your mahr is?"

Mahr is a gift to the bride given by the groom. It is a symbol of the groom's promise to care and provide for the bride. You're more surprised that Silas even knew what Mahr is.

"It must've slipped my mind to tell you." Silas looked at Cadbury, who handed him a document. "For your Mahr, I give you Westminster palace." You looked at the document, he really had signed it over to you!

"Silas..." You say in disbelief, your hands trembling a bit. He smiled reassuringly at you. "You wanted a house. Here's one."

House? He gave me a palace!

"Do you take Silas to be your husband?" The imam asked you. You stared at Silas, at his content face. He didnt have to sign over a whole palace to you, much less one which he'd just gotten from the queen!

And he looked perfectly content with his decision. Not a shadow of doubt. He... he trusts you? Trusts that you'll maintain this union? Wont run out on him- wont betray him?

"I do."

Does he believe that this marriage will last?

"I do."

Does he trust you?

"I do."

You signed the papers, your eyes still in a daze as Silas smiles charmingly at you before pulling you close to hug you. You hear everyone clap around you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

"Thank you."

-

Silas escorted you to the dining room where all the guests were waiting. You were still quiet and in a trance as you walked by him, with your hand around his arm.

He's surprised it didnt make you suspicious with how quickly he'd found an imam. Truthfully speaking, Silas knew you were a Muslim when he first proposed to you. He had his doubts, which were confirmed by his observations especially with your aversion to foods that were forbidden for Muslims. And yes, the queen had also found out about you being a Muslim, but only because he spread the rumour to them.

The Nikkah documents, the ceremony, the Mahr, he had already planned it the moment he found out that the queen was coming over. And the reason why he waited until the last minute to spring this out on you was so that you would be pressured into saying yes. He just couldnt risk you taking time to think this through.

You may still be under the impression that Silas chose you because it was circumstantial or whatever, but he chose you to be his wife precisely because you were a Muslim. Oh he has plans to use you.

You're everything the English monarchy hates, what it stands for. You're not prim and proper, despite your best attempts. You work, that too disguised as a man, and you're far too strong willed and determined to prove yourself unlike the British high society women.

He knows the crown wont be happy to have Muslim bride in the family, much less a Muslim duke who just so happily signed off Westminster palace to his wife.

A Cheshire grin graced his lips, which people mistook for glee for being with his blushing bride. He's going to have fun ruffling the queen's feathers. He's going to tilt the palace upside down.

Curtsying to the queen, Silas immediately noticed and took great pleasure in the queen's displeasure at your dress. Yes, he specifically chose a wedding gown that showed too much skin for the conservative monarch.

"Your majesty, this is Y/n, my sweetheart." Silas introduced you so lovingly, you couldnt help but be flustered as you avert your eyes to the ground.

"Its an honour to meet you, your majesty." You manage to say without throwing up.

Victoria casted one unamused look to you. "Very interesting choice for clothing."

Oh shit. Shit. Shit. She hates it. I knew it-

Silas's hand gently grasped yours. "Thank you, your majesty. I chose it for her after being inspired by a painting my love gifted me. Ah, let me show it to you."

You already knew it was the stupid portrait he was talking about, and you wanted to hide away into a corner as you saw the disapproval on the queen's face- God, she doesnt mask any emotion, does she?

The queen turned to Silas. "I have heard a rumour and I would like you to address it now." She said, glancing at you.

Silas nodded, leaning down to press a kiss to your temple. "Why dont you go and help nana with the guests? I'll be right with you."

Sarah was introducing to the guests, but your head was preoccupied with Silas and the queen. They are definitely talking about me-

"Y/n, this is Mr Blackwood." You stared at the familiar face. "Oh please, Sarah. No need to be formal with me." He smiled charmingly. "Besides, miss Y/n and I have met before."

"Well, thats wonderful! You two talk- I have to find my troublesome grandsons before they embarrass me!" Sarah left you with Henry.

"Congratulations on your wedding." He said with exaggerated joy, though his eyes expressed anything but that. "I'm sure he offered you a lot of money for putting up a show. I just wish you'd told me about it before."

"Excuse me?" You frowned. "I'm not putting up a show."

He raised a brow. "Really? You expect me to believe that a FitzGeorge wants to marry you? Out of the blue?" He throws a look to your gown. "That this wedding dress wasnt him trying to just convince the world that you're his wife?"

Your jaw ticked. "You're right. This dress is Silas's way telling everyone we're married. Because we were married on paper before, but I have an imam, 4 witnesses and a Nikkah document stating that Silas and I are married, both in the eyes of the law and God." You watched Henry's face fall. What use was it lying when he already heard of the rumours. Rolling your eyes, you turned to leave, only for him to reach out and grab your arm.

"Why are you doing this?" Henry asked you, looking for any signs of you lying. He didnt find any. "You know you dont belong with him-"

"Oh? I dont?" You snapped. "Who do I belong with? No, go on. Tell me."

He pulled you close, looking into your eyes. "Me. You belong to me. You know it, you felt it- we have something. We have-" He lowered his voice. "I can give you everything you want. Whatever you'd lost in my shop, I'll find it again. I'll travel the world for it, just- come to me. Leave Silas."

"That is the most pathetic thing I've heard come out of a man's mouth." You yanked your hand out of his grasp, walking away from him. The next time you saw him, he was busy talking with Victoria's heir- Prince Edward VII.

"Sweetheart, there you are!" Silas grabbed you, pulling you along. "I was just telling her majesty about how we met. You remember, love?" He shot you a knowing look.

You nodded, remembering what you two had practised. "Yes. We met at the ballet theatre near Oxford. It was love at first sight-"

"Ballet theatre?" Victoria's voice was sharp. Your heart dropped as you tried to follow up on your lie. See, this is why you two should've discussed this because its hard to lie on the spot!

"She's an amazing ballerina! Ah! I was immediately charmed by her art! She bewitched me!" Silas said cheekily and you wanted to smack him for saying "bewitched" because this is still Victorian era and sure, they dont have witch trials anymore, but why would he risk even the accusation when it is literally the queen's ancestors who had a major part in burning up "witches" in the 1600s!

Look, people back then were dumb and evil, which is a really bad combination.

"Is she now?" Victoria looked at you now, with those piercing eyes. "I would love to attend a show of yours. See what these FitzGeorges fancy so much."

Oh she knows. You can see it, hear it in her monotonous voice that she knows Silas is lying.

And yet this dumbass continues to lie. "Of course! We'll host you for... Christmas eve?"

As Victoria left, you glared at Silas. "Why would you say that?! I'm not a ballerina and you invited her to watch me dance? Do you want to get caught?!"

Silas tutted at you. "You worry too much. Its not that hard, you know. Besides, you have my grandmother to teach you. Ah yes, nana will love it-"

"Silas!" You stopped him. "I cant learn ballet in a month!"

"Not with that attitude-"

"We will get caught. You will be caught, and I will be embarrassed and- and- I wont let anyone make a fool out of me, Silas!" He pulled you into his chest, shushing you.

"I wont let anyone make a fool out of you either, Y/n." He pulled your head back to look at you with those deceptively charming eyes. "You carry my name next to yours now. You're my wife now, and by association, your dignity is my dignity now. I wont let anyone make a mockery of us, Y/n."

You looked up at him and you believed him. How could you not, when lying comes so easily to Silas?

He watched Sarah console you, promising to help you learn. Silas his his smile as he picked up his glass, enjoying his plan falling into place.

Ah, it would be a pity to see your heart break when the entire theatre laughs at you.

Thoughts????

[feefivefoe]

Something I think about when it comes to the batfam is what if they remember reader after a long long time? I’m talking 10+ years after leaving the family. Like what would that be like? Reader wouldn’t be a young adult but someone who’s established themselves in a career and most likely moved out of Gotham, got themselves a somewhat better apartment or maybe a small house, maybe gone through therapy and has decided that they are indifferent about the families existence, to the point that reader forgets about them sometimes. Except Jason reader would probably light a candle every birthday and holiday for him

I feel like the angst potential would be like an aged wine. Bruce Wayne forgot about his first born child their entire life, plus 10 years. Maybe the only reason they remember is a Gotham exclusive on the family, a “where are they now?” type story and half the family (Steph, Cas, Damian, Duke) discover reader existed and the other half is reminded of the forgot part of their family. Oh the angst for Jason! His favorite sibling, his friend from before his death, how could he forget them?? How could Bruce forget them??? And oh god it’s been such a long time where are they?? The story said that they couldn’t find a record in Gotham anymore, are they dead? He let them be forgotten, something he couldn’t stand happening to him, and now here he is, perpetuating it. The fight this would cause!! I feel like the fam would turn on Bruce demanding answers that he doesn’t have. Jason goes to readers room and finds nothing. Maybe reader wanted to cover their tracks? Maybe they didn’t want any trace of them in a manor that never cared for them in the first place? Who knows, all the fam knows is that this building feels so much colder now with this revelation.

Meanwhile reader is getting dinner with friends and work colleagues, having a good and fulfilling life, one outside Gotham, outside of the depressing influence of the Wayne’s, rogues, and owls of Gotham (sorry for making this so long!! Hope you’re having a great day!! Love your work!)

No bc how dare you come into my askbox and drop the most beautiful ask I've seen while I'm sick and brain fogged /affectionate

No hate to anybody else who has sent asks, ily all, but this one HIT MY BRAIN SPASMS AKDMELAK-

BECAUSE YOU'RE SO RIGHT???

The longer it goes on, the worse the inevitable realization is for EVERYONE. Including reader. Because while there's no record of them legally, that's just because they're doing too poorly to have records.

Once you leave Gotham and start settling, you have legal documentation that you just need, you know, for life. Your ssn, birth certificate, etc. Documents that Bruce thought he had somewhere, only to find out you had requested them from Alfred when you left home.

Alfred, being the enabler he is and always hoping you'd reconnect with them one day, just gave you legal copies. Or illegal copies that are good enough to pass, idk how that stuff works.

Point is, they can find you.

BUT.

That's after they get past the emotional turmoil that the discovery puts them through. Imagine if one of them is watching the special for laughs, members of the family snickering at how fake and put together they all are on camera, elbowing each other at how prim and proper some of them are.

Then, near the ending, it cuts to a city far away from theirs. Not Bludhaven, which confuses them. The rest of them stayed, at least relatively close. So where-?

"Y/N L/N, formerly known as Y/N Wayne, has not been seen in the public eye for over a decade. While our reporters were unable to make contact, some still can't help but wonder on where this mysterious member of the beloved family-"

*Snap*

That's Jason, snapping the remote in half while staring at the screen.

Where...when...?

Half of them are confused. Three of them are starting to get a dawning realization.

Jason is having probably the biggest traumatic breakdown he's had since coming to terms with his death and resurrection.

Which town was that? Was that their actual home? Is that just stock footage? Did the reporter lie, did they find you? No, they would have shown that. Fucking vultures wouldn't keep the drama to themselves if they had the chance.

Those are thoughts that don't hit until later, honestly. He's too fucking furious to think coherently for a while.

He wants to scream at Bruce, and hit him, and Dick, and Tim, and fuck it, Alfred too a little. (Unfortunately, they probably have lost Alfred by now. The man was already old.)

He wants to both trash and treasure what's left of your room, small enough to make him feel cramped. It's the size of his old apartment bedroom! Fucking moneybags couldn't give his second ever child a better room than this???

There's no diary left behind, or anything that would bring any sense of closure. Actually, the only thing of note is a scattering of ancient newspaper articles badly taped up on the wall, mostly peeling or on the floor by now.

"BATMAN BESTS POLICE ONCE MORE- RIDDLER IN CUSTODY"

"WHAT WE KNOW ABOUT THE BOY WONDER"

"NO MORE JOKES - CLOWN IN CUSTODY"

"BATMAN'S NEWEST SIDEKICK? ROBIN REPLACED!"

"A NEW HERO? NIGHTWING DEBUTS!"

Them. It's articles about all of them. Their hero exploits, at least. None of them past his...expiration date. It looks like his death is what made you stop idolizing your family so much. Honestly, the paper is old enough to make it hard to read anything but the headlines.

There are a few sticky notes amidst the papers. Clumsy, childlike handwriting.

03/16/XXXX

Richard and Mister Wayne saved people from a bank! Bad guys almost blew em up. That's why they had to miss the concert!

07/30/XXXX

Jason couldn't have dinner because the Joker broke out, and they had to stop him again. Stay in jail! My brother is hungry!!!! >:(

XX/XX/XXXX

I hoped Richard was in town because of my birthday...I guess it was superhero stuff. But Jay remembers! Next year?

XX/XX/XXXX

Not next year :( I made a cake with Alfred instead. Gave some to Jay after he patrolled. Not as good as Alfred's yet, but he still ate it!

Notes you wrote to yourself. To hang up, to show you that even if they aren't there for you, your 'family' is full of good people. That they're doing important stuff, and that's why they can't be there for you.

As a child, you hung up a wall to show yourself why you weren't important. Why you didn't matter.

And Jason breaks.

[spookwriter-xo]

Coppélia

Chapter 4 - The Piano Man

Chapter Summary - It's the night before Y/N is supposed to meet with Seonghwa and his partners, and a new visitor is waiting for her in her dressing room.

Series Masterlist

The nerves kicked in a lot earlier than I thought. The Friday night before I was supposed to meet Seonghwa and his partners, I felt unbelievably sick to my stomach. So much so that I genuinely thought I was going to throw up during the final bows.

I shuffled into my dressing room, hand rubbing my stomach as a pout adorned my features. A throat cleared from my right, causing me to jump in surprise. A tall man with dyed blond hair slowly pushed off his spot on the far wall.

"Sorry for scaring you." He says, his voice deep and gruff. I clear my throat.

"It's fine, just tired from the show," I say, offering him a smile. Another handsome guy coming to visit me? I really must be good.

"Seonghwa said we should come and watch, didn't understand why until now." He states and the smile fades. Seonghwa. He knew Seonghwa. "Oh! I'm Mingi." He says with an awkward smile, extending his hand before quickly retracting it and wiping the palm on his hands. He was nervous, in a cute way, which I found funny considering how intimidating he looked.

"You know Seonghwa?" I ask. I walked past him and towards my dresser where sure enough another bouquet of fresh Gardenias waited for me.

"Uh, yeah. He sent me to give you details about tomorrow night." He says, hesitating to follow me. I bit back a smile, already finding his presence endearing.

"So you're one of his assistants?" I ask, glancing up at him through the mirror. He looked too well dressed to be just an assistant, however I'd also expect ATZ Corps workers to be paid extremely well.

"No." He chuckles. "I'm a co-owner, like him. He just couldn't make it tonight so he sent me... Said you liked Gardenias so.." He mumbles the last part, scuffing his shoe on the carpet.

So he was one of the men who I'd be meeting with tomorrow, making that 3 I knew the faces of now. It felt refreshing to talk to him, then again it was the same with Seonghwa before he offered me that suspicious document. Was Mingi going to be the same?

"Uhm, miss? You okay?" Mingi asks, clearing his throat. My eyes widened as I turned to face him.

"Sorry! So, what were those details?" I ask, leaning back on the counter.

He thinks for a moment, like trying to order the details correctly in his head for a moment before nodding to himself in satisfaction.

"We'll be sending a car to your place at 6pm sharp, so be ready by then." He says. "We've booked a private room so it'll just be the nine of us."

"It's not expensive is it?" I cringe slightly, based on the place Seonghwa took me for our first date, I expected this dinner spot to cost more than all my furniture combined. Especially if there were private rooms to be booked.

"You don't need to worry about paying, we got that handled," Mingi says, offering me a toothy grin. I smiled back, however, my eyes didn't. Mingi looked at me for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm sorry, about all this." He says, tilting his head down in semi-shame. Was this guy really apologizing? I didn't think any of them had that capability considering their upbringing. "I know it's a lot, and a few of us agree." He explains.

"It's just easier for us this way. We all have similar types and it's hard to date when you're in our line of work." He rambled. He was rambling, to me, in my dressing room about his and his partner's odd situation. I couldn't help but bite back a smile finding his boba-eyed expression cute.

"Mingi, it's okay," I say with a breathy laugh, he perks up at the sound.

"Really?" He asked.

"Yes, really."

He stared at me momentarily, studying to see if I was being genuine before clearing his throat and looking away.

"I should warn you, some of the guys are a little... High maintenance." He says moving across the room to look at the Gardenias tucked away in the corner of the room.

"High maintenance?" I question, turning to find my clothes to get changed.

"They like things done a specific way. May not like it that you're asking for a change." He explains. "Especially Captain." He chuckles before coughing. "I mean Hongjoong."

I nod, taking my folded clothes before heading towards the changing room.

"Would you like me to leave?" Mingi asks his figure stiffening. I shake my head.

"No, you're fine," I say, giving him a smile before closing the curtain to keep myself out of sight. I couldn't hear him move as I changed back into my normal clothes, which gave me a sinking feeling. A thought crossed my mind, was this really one of the owners of ATZ Corp? What if he was just a random guy? I shake that thought to the back of my head, pulling my shirt over my head before pulling the curtain back.

Mingi stood exactly where he was, his eyes on the curtain and face stern. I stare back at him for a moment before he perks up suddenly.

"Are you hungry?" He asks, offering me a smile. I think for a moment.

"A little," I answered, shoving the sick feeling in my stomach down. If he's paying, I'll go. Free food is free food.

"Cool! Uhm, I'll wait for you outside?" He asks, taking a big step towards the door. I nod and watch him as he leaves, shutting the door behind him quietly.

Mingi was odd. I figured that pretty fast. He seemed a bit shy, probably pushed to talk to me by Seonghwa himself. Did I hurt the man's pride by my phone call? Is that why he laughed? To hide his embarrassment? I smile to myself at the thought, rarely did I manage to do that.

I quickly pack away my things, preparing everything for Monday night show preparations before taking a deep breath. I walked towards the door, opening it to see Mingi leaning on the opposite wall, waiting patiently. His hands were in his pockets and yet again, he was staring blankly at the door. I give him a tight-lipped smile, closing the door behind me.

He pushes himself off the wall before falling into step beside me.

"Can I ask you something?" I ask him as the cold night air hits our faces. He hums positively in response, holding the door open for me before shoving his hands back into his pockets. "Have you guys done this before? Like dated one girl?"

"Once before." He answers, his eyes ahead.

"What happened?" I ask softly. "If it's alright me asking?"

Mingi hesitates for a moment before speaking. "Can I be honest with you?"

I blink in surprise, "Of course." I whisper.

"The rumors that you may have heard... About our company and how we may be involved in some darker stuff." He starts, his throat bobbing as he swallows nervously. "They aren't entirely false."

I stop in my tracks, staring up at him. "You're serious?" I question.

He just looks down at me, his gaze serious and unblinking. "I'm telling you this now before you get into something you can't get out of." He says. "Because trust me when I say, once you're in, there's no getting out."

My feet are frozen to the pavement as I feel a lump in my throat. "What type of dark stuff?" I ask, my eyes boring into his.

"Stuff I shouldn't tell you." He answers softly. His eyes lowered for a moment before he turned to continue walking. My feet scramble into gear as I start to follow him again.

"Why are you telling me this? Wouldn't you get into trouble?" I ask, trying to catch up to his long strides.

"Because I don't want what happened to her to happen to you." He answers. "If there's a chance for me to save you by warning you now, then I'll take it." He stops outside of a pizza parlor, holding the door open for me once again.

He doesn't order anything, waiting patiently before paying for my pizza, carrying the takeaway box for me, and walking me back to my apartment. The apartment complex was probably as old as my grandparents, in desperate need of repairs and touch-ups. Occasionally the hot water would turn off, which meant I'd have to travel from the 7th floor to the basement where more often than not a lot of sketchy things would go done. I swear it's haunted, which doesn't help with my anxiety.

Mingi stands outside the lobby, staring up at the old and dingy building before handing me the pizza box.

"I thought you had money?" He questions, eyes gazing up at the building. I snap my head to look at him and raise my eyebrow.

"How did you know that?" I ask, unlocking the lobby doors.

His ears go pink and he stutters for a moment. "We may have done some research." He murmurs, lowering his head.

I look him up and down for a moment before shaking my head. "Thanks for the food, and walking me home," I say, holding the lobby door open with my foot.

"Y/N?" He calls out quietly. "Think about what I said, please?" His voice was soft, pleading. His boba eyes stared into mine, searching for anything to soothe his worries.

I sigh, glancing back into the building before looking back at him. "I will," I say, before turning and walking inside.

I did think about what he said. I was up all night staring up at my ceiling. What happened to that other girl? Did she die? Why would Mingi feel so obligated to go out of his way and warn me, especially considering the others may not have even thought of doing the same.

I was a stranger to him. A woman that Seonghwa spoke of when he was home and nothing more. My mind would drift to what he said about a few of the others. Did some of them not agree with the contract? I guess it made sense that it was hard for them to all date, considering how large ATZ Corp is. Even with eight people running it, it seemed like so much work.

And then I'd think about the 'darker' stuff Mingi claimed they were involved in. I knew it was common, I'd seen my own father indulge in some unlawful intimidation for the sake of his company, but the way Mingi said it... It was like it was so much worse than that.

I managed to fall asleep at around 4am, waking up a little past lunchtime. A car would come to get me at 6pm, that's what Mingi said anyway. I didn't know what type of car, but I assumed it would be expensive.

I lazed around until 4:30 before I started to get ready. I found the dress I wore for expensive Society dinners. A black dress with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a slit of one leg. I wore it more often than I care to admit, considering it was my most expensive item of clothing. I fished out a pair of heels found my purse and waited.

Was I really doing this? Did I even have to go? What would they do if I didn't? At five to six I took the elevator down to the lobby and waited just inside the doors.

Just like clockwork, a limousine drives up outside and parks out front. The driver gets out and walks to the side facing the building and waits patiently with his hands folded behind him. I take a deep breath.

No going back now.

Thank you all so much for the love so far! More chapters are coming now that the MV is out (don't forget to stream!) and they'll start getting a bit longer.

taglist:

@bellaptv @arilevenatz @my-atiny-kookie-rkive @hecateslittlewitchling @neuviloved @monstacheol @latisthegenderfluidwannabealone

[siddyyyyyyyy]

You're Only Sixteen

wc: ~3.6k

summary: child soldier joins task force 141 part FOUR; one, two, three; five

warnings: discussion of abusive military camp, description of anxiety, some violence, (grieving), nightmares

a/n: this is getting really interesting now and I'm trying my best to keep the story entertaining and logical... hope you enjoy it!

Briefing room, 15:21, two days before the mission.

The new plan of the mission is projected on the white wall in front of you all, with Price standing beside it while everyone listens. He goes over the plan and explains who would be doing what, making sure he gets the message across. Laswell stands beside him, arms behind her back, as she nods along and adds information occasionally.

»This needs to go as smoothly as possible. No mistakes, no slip-ups, no nothing.«

Price starts, glancing over everyone before he gestures to the plan on the wall, continuing with explaining.

»We will be raiding an abusive military camp for children, takiing the kids to a safe place, and taking the bastards who are responsible for this with us. This is underage children we are talking about. Innocent souls, who are forced to get trained and sent on unnecessary dangerous missions. We’ll make sure the people behind it learn their lesson.«

Laswell looks around the small group, spotting you immediately. Her gaze is cold, but she doesn’t seem to be the type to throw glares without reason. She seems even tense. You’re aware she works for the CIA, doing most of the research and planning for the mission the team goes to eventually. Maybe that’s why she is staring at you, not used to a new member in the task force. But then again, she shouldn’t feel like that, considering how professional she must be.

»Camp is located in Urzikstan, Riyazabbi. It’s where Farah grew up, so she’ll be helping us out on it.«

Finally, she averts her eyes from you and clicks to the next slide of the small power point, presenting a map of Urzikstan with red scribbles on it. You listen intently to the whole briefing, growing more and more sick on the inside. Standing beside Ghost by the table, you can only hope no one notices your growing anxiety.

»To be more exact, in the Old Town, near the Low Town. Farah will be leading our way for the mission, making sure the children get escorted safely. Your mission is to get the bad guys.« She switches to another slide, a planned-out map from the base of the camp, »Most of them should be on the top floor, as well as the documents we need to find out what other stuff they’re hiding… and get the evidence.«

You take a deep breath looking at the map, feeling your stomach churn. Laswell steps away, leaning her hands on the table as she glances around the team once more.

»Gaz and Price will be paired up to keep watch and take out the guards. Soap, Ghost you both will storm in and clear the building out, sparing the children inside.«

She straightens her back and looks over you again, continuing with telling each their role for the upcoming mission.

»You’ll be with Farah, behind Ghost and Soap. Focus on escorting the children from the outside.«

Gaz glances at you from across the table, noticing your paleness. He keeps his eyes on you for a moment before he looks back to the power point, studying the map and listening to the rest of the briefing.

Ghost on your side notices your shift as well, nudging you lightly against your shoulder. You finally snap back, glancing up at him, almost disoriented. He gives you a questioning look, Price interrupting the exchange.

»Any questions?«

Ghost, the twat he is, nods and mentions towards you.

»Ya seem like you know something. Explain?«

Meanwhile, you’re still processing what the mission is about, your heart pounding in your chest and mind racing.

The small group watches you, slightly concerned about your sudden silence. It’s not unusual you are more reserved, but now it seems different. Price shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, and calls out your name.

»That’s my camp.«

You spit out bluntly, granting a shocked look from each. Laswell exchanges a look with Price giving a small nod. The silence in the briefing room is deafening, making you hear your own pulse in your ears.

»Holy shite...« Soap grumbles under his breath, making you exhale slowly to calm yourself down.

Captain Price shifts again, taking a step towards you as he holds up one hand.

»Now, I know this will be difficult for you, but I believe you are strong and capable enough to handle it, and even more.«

He motivates you, trying not to scare you off and reassure you. Suddenly it’s very tight in the room; everyone stares at you and makes you feel pressured. What are you supposed to do? Should you go along with the mission or call it quits after everything? You finally thought you could escape your camp and never see the commanders or the other soldiers again. What if you fail everyone and lose everything again?

»Ye knew about this?« Soap’s agitated voice rings through the room, slicing right through the soft tone of the captain.

»At first, no one knew, Soap. We couldn’t have known if it wasn’t in her file.«

»Of course, it wasn’t.« He scoffs, his tone growing more exasperated. Price shoots him a warning glare before he focusses back on you.

»You need to stay strong for this one. We need you for this mission, both for your strength and knowledge. You are a strong asset to us.«

He explains calmly, turning more towards you as he does. Price could go on about why he thinks you are perfect for this mission, but the rest of the team needs to process it themselves and consider his words. It’s true; because of your own experience from the camp it makes it easier to gain more intel on the whole organisation. On the other hand, this feels like they ask too much. There’s no way you’ll go back there to save the others.

Laswell breaks the visible tension in the room and speaks up, keeping her calm.

»This is important for everyone; however, I do think you need to get the chance to choose yourself. Do you want to join the mission?«

The question hangs heavy in the air, making you almost overwhelmed with it. After several tension-filled seconds, you have decided it.

»Yes. I will join on the mission.«

She nods back in acknowledgement, taking a small step back from the table. Somehow, the tension in the room leaves slowly, as does your pounding in your chest. You realise how serious and difficult this will be, already feeling like this will take years off your lifespan. Maybe that was exaggerated, but that’s literally how it feels right now.

You’ve never seen Soap so distressed before, even now when he has calmed down and wears an uneasy expression on his face. It’s your own, choice and you chose to actually participate in that difficult mission. There’s nothing they can do but work alongside you.

----

The briefing is over, and now it is time to prepare for the upcoming mission, needing to prepare some bags since this requires travelling to get to Urzikstan.

You feel a big hand on your shoulder, which makes you look to your right, seeing Ghost like before.

»Wanna feed Riley?« A firm squeeze is felt on your shoulde before he lets go, waiting on your answer. You simply nod, finally getting out of your distracted stare.

Soon enough, you find yourself in his office with Riley munching off from your palm again. She is calmer today, as if sensing something might be wrong or someone’s mood is down. Ghost is sitting next to the K9, silently petting her back before speaking up.

»What actually happened in that camp?«

His cold gaze is fixated on you, but not with the usual cold-hearted eyes. There seems to be an underlying understanding behind them as he studies you.

»Like…« you trail off, considering what he might want to know, »the abusive training or the raid missions?«

»How ‘bout we start at the beginnin’?«

You nod slightly, watching Riley lick your palm clean while you think of how to start talking about your past. Eventually, you start talking about the separation from your parents, the big explosion that came with, and how rough the soldiers were with children like you. About the endless training back then. The torturous amount of hours spent with nothing but improving yourself with elder commanders criticising and correcting every minor mistake. The nights spent training by yourself until morning, just for the seniors to ruin every single thing. Then you go on about the missions, mostly telling him about your own and briefly explaining the system to him.

»We were grouped into classes by our skills. The lower you are, the more likely you’ll have to go on a suicide mission. I was high class, meaning I was mostly either a sniper or went to raids. And doing night patrol.«

He listens intently, almost as if he tries to commit every word said to memory. Ghost lets you talk, not interrupting you a single time as you open up. Riley licks at your hand the whole time, making you try to swat your hand away from her, but she keeps nuzzling her nose against your hands.

»They said it’s to ‘protect our country and make our loved ones proud‘, but after a while I also noticed how much bullshit they’re trying to sell us. Once I got here, I started to realise how wrong the camp was. It feels like they robbed everything from me.«

You stare at Riley as you talk, trying to get back into the right lane and not let your emotions take over. Riley is still trying to lick at your hands but gave up and just rests her jaw in your two hands, occasionally looking at you as you speak.

»There wasn’t really anything different to do but train and fight. We would get punished or sent away if we made too many mistakes or misbehaved. God forbid we tried to escape.«

You finally pet Riley’s head carefully in your hands, being mindful not to put too much pressure on her and gently trying out how far you can go with her. She continues to sit calmly in front of you, letting you do your thing on her.

Ghost listens and glances down at his dog as well, noticing how fast you got used to her already. He shifts and speaks up, your words staying in his mind.

»Sure was hell of a shit ‘ole. But, you’re sure you will get revenge on them with us?«

He asks again, making sure if you didn’t just agree on the mission, because you felt like you had to, in front of them. You nod in response confidently, being sure nothing bad will happen with them by your side.

»I’m sure I can do it.« Ghost nods back in response, glad to see a positive attitude from you. Riley opened her mouth again, making her tongue stick out and breath louder. You let go of her head and glance to Ghost, noticing his eyes crinkle underneath his mask. Or that could be you imagining things also. He gets off the ground, and you follow shortly after, looking down to the friendly K9. She stares right back at you, her ears up and tail waggling slightly from side to side. You give her a final rub on her head before exiting his office, returning back into your own bunk to prepare for the training.

----

Training hall, 16:00, two days before the mission

You‘re glad you are all training today, needing to get your mind off everything that was discussed earlier. While warming your muscles up, Soap and Gaz join finally too, also ready for the sparring. This time, you‘d need to spar with Ghost, having been sparring with mostly Soap before. He gets ready in the stance, muscles tense and knees lightly bent. Ghost tells you to strike first, which you do shortly later.

The round begins with you attacking him to his side, but he is quick to counterattack with a punch of his own. And that punch sure was powerful. Is he trying to maul you? Going on, it‘s an exchange of attacks and counterttacks, blocked hits, and dodged kicks. To be completely honest, it‘s fun sparring with Ghost. He is not holding back, making it clear he is going to teach you something while training. And in reality, Ghost is indeed trying to prepare you more for the long mission in just two days. There is an underlying fear in him that he won‘t be admitting to anyone.

Focus still being on the mission, you‘re having a hard time keeping up with him. Thinking about the camp, the rude commanders and needing to rescue your comrades from the camp… It is getting a lot in your head. That‘s why sparring right now is such a good distraction, but obviously, it is not doing much at the moment.

Meanwhile, Ghost doesn‘t understand how you can be so quick and keep up with his strong attacks, trying to analyse your movements and figure your weak point out. After a few more moments, though, you already figured out his own. His left knee is weak, however, kicking against him is mostly a trap, as he takes the opportunity to yank on your ankle and make you fall. Obviously you didn‘t fall. Just stumbled.

Gaz watches as he takes a small break with Soap, seeing you both being cheeky fighters. Both trying to hit the other‘s weak points as much as possible. Both looking very focused on the task.

»Who do ye think will win?« Soap questions beside him, also watchig your sparring round.

»Hard to tell… they still seem full of energy.« Gaz mumbles back, focused on watching the fight go on. There‘s a moment of silence before Soap speaks up again.

»Wanna bet?« Gaz groans quietly and side-eyes his teammate, having lost the last bet with him just last week.

At the same time, you are both pretty much sparring like before. But it is getting harder to focus on the task again, while your mind is in a completely different world. It‘s gotten to a point where you‘re blocking a lot of hits and mostly taking them while having a hard time striking back. At the same time, you are too stubborn to give up just yet. The mission and all the thoughts about your camp are making you think rational and making you overwork. A sudden wave of frustration washes over you, and Ghost isn‘t that strong of an opponent anymore.

With a strong kick to his side, he has no chance to trick you again before you land a series of punches to his chest area. He huffs and grunts, trying to dodge them but with no luck. Your attacks are stronger now, making Ghost stumble back and block a few of your punches. The sudden action doesn‘t go missed by him at all, it makes him wonder where it all came from. It seemed like you were giving up a second ago, but now you‘re coming back stronger.

Wherever it came from, isn‘t as important for now. The skin at your knuckles is red again, and your expression is dark. He quickly realises and feels the need to step in. With you being so out of the wind from the meeting is something he knows all too well.

He launches forward, but instead of striking an attack, he wraps his large arms around you tightly, forcing himself to bite back a grunt at your attempt to punch him again. The hug is tighter than any hug you‘ve received, but you also didn‘t get many hugs before.

There‘s an instant halt in your movements and you simply freeze, having no idea how this just happened. Being in someone else‘s arms is something you haven‘t experienced a lot. And this doesn‘t certainly feel soothing, but also not forceful either.

»You‘re pushing yourself. Stop that.«

He gruffly tells you and finally lets go, looking over your face. You don‘t say much, just staring back at him and finally exhaling the breath you didn‘t realise you held in. Gaz and Soap exchange a look but don‘t say anything, continuing to spar together while keeping an eye on you both.

Finally, his words sank in, and you nodded in response. »Sorry, I won‘t.« You mumble back, earning a rather sceptical look from him. He just gives you a small grunt in response and mentions for you to strike in again.

For the rest of the training session, it is just Ghost grounding you and making sure you don‘t get lost in your thoughts again. Which surprisingly helps, but also gets exhausting after some while. The other pair just goes on with their own sparring match, eventually fighting like two cats who hate each other, and mostly fighting on the floor, both too stubborn to end the fight.

Eventually, Ghost finally decides to cut you some slack, as well as for the other two teammates, who beat the shit out of the other the entire time. Showertime before dinner, finally getting to some kind of rest before it is time to pack some stuff for the deployment into Urzikstan.

After the quick shower, you head to the mess hall and run into Ghost on the way. Thank God, he has the Capri Sun already and hands it to you. But not without saying something too.

»You fought well today. But you seemed distracted.« It‘s a gentle demand to spill the beans, but this doesn‘t seem like something you should talk about in the first place. It doesn‘t seem important enough. You simply shrug, looking to the Caprie Sun in your hands. Cherry flavoured.

»I was just somewhere else. The camp… the meeting just made me distracted.«

You answer back, cringing secretly at yourself for saying too much. But to your surprise, he doesn‘t even react to your words and studies you briefly.

»Wanna talk about it? I can listen.«

To no one‘s surprise, you deny the offer, even when you trust Ghost a lot by now. The only thing you want now, is some semi-warm cantine food and the sweet drink in your hands.

----

Packing an extra bag for Urzikstan wasn‘t as confusing as it may seem, but maybe nine pocket knifes are just enough to keep you safe. Fou of them are regular pocket knifes everyone else has, the other five being various ones, you either got or found somewhere. The biggest one is about the size of your whole hand with the blade out, also your favourite one by far. You found it somewhere in a desert during a solo mission.

Next, is your small sketchbook, of course. And your pencil, that needs to be sharpened again. The most important item goes deep into the smaller bag, making sure it won‘t get lost by any means. A polaroid picture of yourself and another girl, together, smiling. The sun is low, casting a warm and soft tint to everything, making you both look even more stunning.

Then, of course, some dog treats you stole from Ghost‘s office for Riley, since he mentioned taking the K9 on the mission. You are actually a little surprised that he didn‘t notice you sneaking some into your pocket while feeding Riley and explaining your camp to Ghost.

Finally it‘s all settled and you are ready for bed. Once again, it takes up some time to fall asleep, the mission still heavy in mind. But you get to it after approximately two hours.

You wake up to your mother screaming for you, the air feeling thick and loaded. The sharp pain around your wrists are a reminder of the ties around them, keeping you from escaping as your ankles are tied together as well; connected to the other set of children that are now taking hostage. Another yell before a sharp thud grabs your attention, looking over to where you think your mother just screamed from. The first instinct is to scream for her and beg, feeling the steady rise of panic and anxiety going up in you terrifyingly fast. Soon, it‘s nothing but a sea of screams around you, while you are the quietest one. But you are screaming your lungs out, why are you so quiet?

A sudden white light breaks out, blinding both your sight and sounds around you. The surprise doesn‘t last long, as all you can make out is darkness and disoriented voices, talking in unintelligible words over each other. It feels like something is trying to suck you out of the ground, but you‘re trying to fight it, eventually getting shocked with light hitting your face yet again. It‘s softer this time, but it quickly turns into a big, dark cloud of smoke.

Breathing is getting harder again, but before you know it, there is someone helping you up and guiding you somewhere firmly. Looking to your right, you see a familiar face again, and all your worries seem to disappear for a brief moment. The girl beside you is helping you get away from the explosion as fast as possible, suddenly realising why this feels so familiar and real.

Waking up with cold sweat yet again in an ungodly hour has happened before. Sighing out, you focus on calming your racing heart down before you can attempt to fall asleep once more. Actually, no, you won‘t be attempting to sleep tonight. Not after a flashback like this one.

a/n: the next part will be out probably by next week, please be patient.... but I can assure you, the next part is going to be awesome-sauce. You'll get to experience Farah Kari-

Hope you enjoyed it!

[etoileee]

MY FRIST DAY IN MY PERCY JACKSON DR. ψ

au; sorry this took so long! I ended up getting sick and goddamn did I feel like a sick orphan in the 1800s. I was also debating the format I wanted to share this experience with you all.. informative or in first person, but I settled on both! I hope you all enjoy it! ❤︎

PLOT;

the storyline of it is that I'm the only child of NYX. the goddess of the night. Since she is a primordial goddess, to me it made sense that she wasn’t up to the same shinagains that the gods would be up to. for example, having demigod children like they’re being paid to, so to me, her only having one child in her entire existence is fitting.

In my dr it isn’t the prophecy of seven, it's the prophecy of ten. (I added Nico and Reyna!) and of course, me being the last member.

In the Sibilene books at camp Jupiter, they mentioned a prophecy of nine but they eventually found out it was supposed to be ten, not nine. so the prophecy of ten is what was engraved into the floor of the Jupiter temple.

by the type the prophecy is formed, everyone else in it but I was already there and had formed relationships with each other, some coming in did throw them off a bit.

‘the tenth member of the prophecy’ had become more like a legend as people wondered if there was one person left;

since every member of the prophecy but I had come together and there were more documents of there supposedly being nine instead of ten, everyone just assumed that the documents were wrong, but then I came along and was the last and final person.

FRIST SHIFT;

when I woke up I was in one of the beds in the infirmary. I didn’t script where I would wake up but I found out that the reason I was there is because when I got to Camp Half-Blood I passed out when I saw Chiron (LMAO??) but I didn’t find that out till later.

. Honestly, I'm starting to think that in the Percy Jackson universe when it rains, it RAINS. like full thunder, lightning and everything. I haven’t met Zeus but he seems very theatrical judging by the state of the weather was in when I woke up.

eventually, I got up and started walking around, I made my way out of the building and once I was outside there was this girl on her way to the infirmary to check up on me. She isn’t someone from the books but honestly, I was pretty excited to meet her (though I didn’t show it because that would’ve been weird) one of the things I was most excited about was meeting campers who weren’t in the series.

she told me her name (Madeline) and that she came to see how I was doing and if I was okay she'd take me to speak to Dionysus and Chiron because they needed to speak with me.

once I’m there I like to stand there awkwardly in front of Dionysus and Chiron, like zoned tf out staring at the wall while they stare at me probably thinking there’s not a thought behind my eyes.

a few minutes later the rest of the prophecy comes in, as they were walking in a few of them were talking and laughing, but once they saw me and the serious looks on both Chiron and Dionysus's faces they settled down.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS;

— PERCY JACKSON

the first thing I noticed was his eyes. I know that sounds cheesy as hell but truly he has really pretty eyes. In the books, he’s described as having ‘sea green’ eyes and they didn’t disappoint. I at one point ended up smiling at him. I couldn’t help it lolz but I think once I did that he seemed to relax a bit. his face softened and he smiled back at me a little bit. that’s when he let his guard down with me. Alexa play Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish!

— ANNABETH CHASE

she was looking at me very attentively. I won't lie I got nervous it felt like she was looking into my SOUL I was shaking in my boots low key. she’s beautiful though I hope I wasn’t blushing I have a sick-ass feeling I was, unfortunately. She watched me and Percy smile at each other and I think her guard went up MORE?? after the campfire me and her got the chance to talk a little bit. I think at that point she started to accept me a bit more but she was still a bit wary of me but PROGRESSSS!

— JASON GRACE

HUGE. BIG ASS GUY. gorgeous eyes as well. he and Annebeth were both very serious at the moment, but he didn’t look at me suspiciously the way Annebeth was looking at me, he looked more curious than anything. very well-mannered and respectful, charming ahh smile, I did however notice he does have a bit of a habit of pushing his glasses up his nose? like they’ll slide down and he pushes them up.. now I don’t if it’s because his glasses or too big or if its a habit but either way I counted how much times he pushed them up because I noticed, 36 TIMES.

— LEO VALDEZ

unserious mf. Of course, he was serious when he had to be but he was having a field when he found out that I was the last member of the prophecy. I and Percy were both ON ME on wanting to know more about me, and my ‘story’ if you will. he also got very excited about the fact that I’m also Mexican and now he has someone to talk shit with in Spanish. he genuinely was making me smile not to get all sappy lol. and he was flirty just as expected.

— PIPER MCLEAN

GORGEOUS GORGEOUS GIRLS LOVE SOUP! I was blushing again. I won't lie she’s genuinely so cool. She was also watching me very attentively but she seemed more relaxed and curious than the others. I think I and I connected well honestly. I didn’t script anything about my love life but I can see us getting closer.

— NICO DI ANGELO

I couldn’t really read his face during the meeting, he seemed both uninterested and intrigued at the same time. we made eye contact a few times and every time he didn’t look away ONCE. we did end up speaking a little bit later at the campfire, we said probably five words but I think we got along. I also think a made him smile a tiny bit, which is a win.

— RENYA RAMíREZ ARELLANO

my gay ass was so excited to meet her like I've had such a fascination with the amazons since I was a little girl, even though it looked like she was psychoanalyzing me. She and Annabeth both had their guard but the most around me. THEY WERE SUSPICIOUS. I don’t know if she likes me but IT'S OKAY.

— HAZEL LEVESQUE

She is so cute truly. she was also very friendly! She was the first one to smile at me and let her guard down. she’s also very talkative which was nice! when me and I started talking she asked me how the ride to the camp was and we bonded over our motion sickness LMAO

— FRANK ZHANG

HUGE MF #2 he is genuinely so nice and calm, it’s almost calming to be around. very soft spoken, likes to listen to others talk. at one point later in the night we were making s’mores and I was speaking with Leo so I failed to realize that my marshmallow was on fire and BURNING and he ended up taking the stick from me and blowing it out for me. thanks, frank. :(( </3

DURING THE TALK;

(my pov)

I stand there before the nine demigods,

A GOD,

and a man with fucking horse legs,

‘What the hell am I doing here?’ I think to myself. Well, I know exactly why I'm here, apparently, I'm a demigod myself, but this is not what I thought I’d be doing during this summer.

“We've brought you all here for a serious discussion,” Chiron says calmly, his hands clasped together in front of him while that other guy pours himself a glass of red wine, filling it up basically to the top.

not very classy.

I turn back to the nine other teenagers in the room, making eye contact with the tall boy with raven hair and green eyes. his gaze is unwavering against mine, his eyebrows are furrowed and the tip of his tongue sits at the corner of his mouth as his gaze zeroes in on me.

pleaselookawaypleaselookawaypleaselookaway

he doesn’t.

This interaction didn't go unnoticed by the blonde girl that stood next to him, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed at me. her eyes attentively studying my expressions and body language. making me feel like a bug under a magnifying glass.

“you all know how we thought there being ten prophecy members was a legend, right?” Dionysus takes a sip of the red liquid in his glass, letting out a sigh of relief before putting it back down and leaning forward on the wooden table in front of him. resting his arms against it.

“We found the last one,” he says nodding towards me, like this is a normal thing that happens on a Friday night for him. “HER?” the boy wearing overalls and a tool belt says loudly pointing a finger at me.

“yeah, her,”

Dionysus takes a longer sip of his wine and I look back at the other demigods, my eyebrows furrowed together trying to understand what the hell the wine addict just told me.

prophecy of what and why the fuck am I in it?

horse legs— sorry— ‘Chiron’ notices the look on my face. “how much did your father tell you about yourself, child?” his voice is comforting, and his eyes are soft and wise. very different from the man standing up next to him.

I feel bad for calling him horse legs.

“he told me I was a demigod.. in the car,” I shrug and fix my bangs spread across my forehead. “he’s right about that,” he nods. his expression thoughtful. “what else he tell you?” Dionysus cuts in, his pointer finger circling the rim of his wine glass.

the world outside flashes something between blue and violet. the large windows letting the hue into the room. I turn my attention to the widows looking at the lighting in the sky creating different shapes, and eventually stroking far into the distance. creating a loud boom.

“damn,” I murmured to myself before looking back at everyone else, only to find them all staring at me, waiting for my answer.

“oh! Sorry— um—“ I look up trying to remember whatever the hell my dad told me in the car but my memory is fuzzy. as if it was a dream. “don’t think too hard, you fainting probably messed with your memory,” the tall blonde boy urges me, pushing his round frames up his nose with the tip of his middle finger.

I like his voice. It's nice.

“So you don’t know who your godly parent is?” Dionysus's eyes narrow on me waiting for my answer. “uh.. no, I don’t,” my gaze goes to a random spot on the floor.

”Well, we know who it is,” a wicked smirk on his lips, enjoying that he knows something I don’t, and it seems like he’s enjoying the anticipation and suspense he’s creating. “who?” the blonde girl next to ocean eyes, clearly getting tired of his act.

Dionysus drinks more of his wine in large gulps, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. he sets the glass back down on the table and wipes his lips with the back of his hand.

“Nyx,”

the room goes silent. the name hanging in the air.

In this moment I realize I don’t know shit about greek mythology.

In the 6th grade, I did a Greek gods and goddesses program and I painted myself green because I got assigned to be Gaia and sang a song about peace. that’s about it.

“You know about greek mythology?” repair boy asks me raising his eyebrow at me, his lips tugging upwards teasingly finding my lack of knowledge amusing

“I know some things, but not a lot,” my voice quiet and I shrug. apparently, I’m a demigod who has no idea about Greek mythology. my eyes meet the emo boy’s eyes before I look away hearing Chiron's voice. “Nyx is an ancient, powerful, goddess. she’s been around longer than most gods,” I take a deep breath in and breathe out, taking all this information in.

my eyebrows pull together in confusion still not knowing what she’s the goddess of. “the goddess of the night,” Dionysus says to me simply, seeing the look of confusion and curiosity on my face.

the goddess of the night.

They continue to talk, probably about me, amongst each other as my thoughts begin to run wild making their conversation sound like fluffy background noise.

everything begins to make sense. the way I find comfort in the night, my hyper fixation on stars and the moon, the fact that my room always looks like a damn bat cave from never turning the light on.

huh.

“We don't even have a Nyx cabin,” that snaps me out of my zoned-out state. “She’ll stay in the Hermes cabin,” Dionysus says simply taking another sip of the red liquid in his glass.

“you guys will be spending a lot of time together, go get to know each other,” Chiron walks over to the door, opening it up so we can walk out.

time for icebreakers.. I guess.

[letternotekisses]

MORE REAPER AND ASSISTANT PLZ.......OH MY GAH

(18+mdni) warning: i say the word clockwork too many times and also sex happens i guess

It's the small things that show he really cares, no matter how many times he tells you gruffly to shut up.

Gabriel sulks until the early hours of the morning, perched like a carrion bird until the light streams through the room and washes away most of the darkness shrouding him. He can't sleep, restless and agitated, spurred on by the simmering pain of his cells regenerating at a rapid pace that keep him alive and watching the halls like Talon's resident ghoul. He marinates in a thick gloom, festering under a bone-white mask like a children's nightmare.

That is, until you wake up. If he's not already in your room - the defences flimsy to someone like him - waking you up so deliciously by parting your soft, pyjama-less thighs with his clawed gauntlets and stretching your cunt open on his thick cock, then he's waiting routinely for you in the 'staff-room.'

Every single day. Like clockwork, he's there. You always make two cups of steaming coffee, even though he never touches it and it often goes cold, simply staring as the steam rises and dissipates. It's early, all but a select few still asleep, and still a half hour before Akande has you organising documents and booking his meetings, a short period where Reaper has you all to himself.

He doesn't talk because he doesn't need to. You fill the silence with some trivial drabble about a new show you'd seen or some menial gossip you'd heard along the grapevine of Talon's many inconsequential minions. It's normal. Too normal for someone like Gabe, but you help him pretend. You're all too happy to see him, chirping over your coffee like all is right with the shadow beside you. It makes him feel sick, something all too sweet and sappy filling his chest and drowning his lungs, cloying and thick and all too unlike him. But if you pause your chatter under the pretence that he isn't listening, he'll turn towards you with a stare so hard you can feel the burn through his mask until you continue.

You punctuate your idle chatter with small sips from your drink, its your own coffee that you share with him - not the shitty burnt crap that the staff room provides. A small gesture, innocent and sickeningly sweet that makes him want to scoff. But he sneaks a sip when your back is turned, and it's nice, good stuff - expensive stuff. It's a waste on him but yet you do it anyway.

The next day he's there like clockwork, only, there's the brand of coffee you use in place of the usual rubbish. He doesn't meet your gaze, nor does he accept the dopey smile he can see you doing out of the corner of his eye. He is not a kind man, your coffee is just better, so he bought some for himself, that's all. Gabriel definitely doesn't scare off any others apart from you who try to use it, definitely not.

You make him softer, sanding down his rough edges until he's tame and palatable. Until he's traipsing behind you in the halls like a lost dog, waiting at the foot of your bed like a good boy. Sit, speak, heel. Like clockwork.

It's not all bad, though. You let him in at night, a flash of his ghoulish cloak disappearing behind closed doors, welcoming him into your warmth with open arms and sweet whispers. You let him take what he needs from your softness, growling and kissing his teeth against your neck as he ruts into your cunt, leg hooked over his hip as he buries a place for himself inside you.

He leaves bruises and bite marks, danger and destruction left in his wake, yet, you still appear in the staff room every morning on time, chattering away - like clockwork. You tasted danger and let it between your legs, into your bed and between your sheets. You reward him for his softness in the mornings by letting him ravage you at night. And suddenly, everything is a little less bad.

The Reaper is a creature of habit - lead by instinctual need, everything he does, is like clockwork.

[moonmeg]

"Micah!"

His ears twitched up as his name echoed through the halls in the familiar voice of Vivian. He looked up from his notes and traced the sounds of jogging shoes back until he spotted her. Not that it was hard to spot her this time. The hallway was nearly empty. The only students still around were those taking extra classes specifically set up for graduees-to-be. He himself didn't attend those classes but a friend, whom he agreed to help out with here and there after school, was. Micah used the uncanny silence of the hour to go through his own notes and books once more so this evening he could enjoy his room without sitting behind the desk or on the floor desperately forcing knowledge into his brain.

It was odd, he thought. Robyn used to be the help-out guy in the friend group. He was the smart guy. And now as he wasn't a student anymore, those same friends came to Micah. They deemed him a sufficient enough replacement. Micah didn't mind much, he was just not used to it. Granted, he also didn't expect to be the new smart guy in the group. "Smart" was rarely one of the first adjectives people used to describe him. "Kind", "pretty" or "handsome", "fun", "good", "badmouthed", "reserved", "loyal"... those were more attributed to him by people who weren't his family or Robyn. "Smart" would come up sooner or later but it was barely ever people's immediate association. "Smart" was Robyn's adjective. Now it had been forced onto Micah as if everyone suddenly realized he didn't just have an intelligent heart but had an intelligent brain too.

It was odd.

"To what do I have the pleasure, Ms. Student Council President?" Micah placed his fist under his chin and smirked at the girl he never thought he'd call friend one day.

"I'm really sorry I'm catching you in your studies like this. I missed my opportunities earlier." Vivian began slowly calming her breath again from the physical activity. Micah ensured her it was alright. Vivian took a deep breath and looked up at Micah. She straightened her back and asked away:

"Where's Robyn? He wasn't in for the entire week. Is he sick? Did something happen? It's not like him to be gone for so long without a word! I'm starting to worry."

"Oh, did he not reach out to ye?" Micah's smile dropped.

"I haven't heard of him since last week."

Vivian's face was one of genuine concern. Missing classes so shortly before final examinations was a way to lose the participation allowance in the worst case. She was sure Robyn wouldn't risk that and perhaps she just missed the information that he was sick. She decided to ask Micah for closure. Surely he must know what the matter was. He was closest to Robyn on multiple levels.

"I'm sorry, I thought maybe as Student Council or Robyn's friend ye'd know already..." Micah closed the book in his hands carefully. "He decided to drop out."

"What?!" Vivian burst out. Her posture fell again as she leaned towards Micah with bent knees. Before she could say or ask anything more, Micah provided her with what he knew.

"There's no progress on the magic situation. He said he's not allowed to use glyphs but wi'out them or Snowball he has no magic at all. He couldn't participate in the practical exams. The theoretical part barely counts. He decided it's best if he left."

"And you let him?!" Vivian grabbed Micah by his shoulders and pulled him closer to her. Micah immediately fought her off. He jerked her hands off his shoulders and leaned back towards the window.

"What was I supposed to do? He had already signed the documents when he came to talk with me about it. Telling him to enroll again would only have led to a fight that I canna win. He's right isn't he? He's powerless wi'out glyphs but he's not allowed to use them. Is Robyn supposedta take theoretical exams that he knows willna get him to graduation anyways? What then?" he argued.

Vivian stared at Micah for a few seconds before she processed what he had said. Her lips thinned and her blue eyes started searching for something on the floor. She found that she had no answer to his question... What then? What could Robyn have done other than drop out?

Vivian sat down on the windowsill beside Micah. Her head hung low, a strand of her long green hair fell over her shoulder and her hands were clasped together in her lap.

Micah eyed her. He thought he understood what Vivian was thinking right now too well. Robyn's decision was a difficult one to accept, but neither had any counter arguments that would be convincing enough to make him reconsider. The alternatives were shit. This was a dilemma situation: No matter what path you choose, it ends badly.

He leaned his head back until the window hindered it at going any further.

"It hurts me to see him this miserable and speakin' of self-hatred. It hurts me immensely because that is the boy I love so deeply. I see the world in him and I want him to be nothing but happy. But had I tried to convince him otherwise, I would've only made him feel like he's made a mistake. That's the last thing he needs." Micah said quietly.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You're right." Vivian sighed. "This is just so unfair! He's worked so hard and now all of it is to dissolve into nothing? We must do something!"

"Vi, I believe being there for Robyn is both of our priorities right now." he turned his head to her slightly.

"Obviously." Vivian mirrored his head turn in his direction. "I'll stop by his house right after the council meeting. But I can't sit around here and do nothing about his drop-out either!"

"Tell me 'bout it." Micah scoffed. He crossed his arms and turned his head back to face the hallway. "If only there was a way to let him graduate properly. Or an honorary something! Extraordinary Student Award or Student of the Year or some shite like that!"

Vivian slapped her hand on his thigh suddenly. It startled him for a second but he turned to look at her. Vivian was smiling at him with her lips but her eyes weren't smiling aswell. It looked a little off - almost had something creepy about it. Had he said something wrong? Was it because he said "shite"? Alright, it was against school rules to use vulgar language and that included swear words but Vivian wasn't that strict about it. She never cared about it before. Not even when he used harsher cuss words than a harmless "shite".

"Micah! You're a genius!" Vivian grabbed his shoulders again and shook him. Since Micah was clearly broader and heavier than her, she only managed to shake his torso lightly. It was more a sway than a shake and it looked quite silly.

"Glad ye finally noticed." Micah commented dryly.

"I'm not sure if we can have him graduate without him taking the exams but nowhere is it said that we can't hand out a Student of the Year title!!" Vivian leaned closer to him and beamed at him in her newly found confidence. She began seriously gripping his shoulders, digging her fingertips in, as if the thought would leave her if she let Micah go but flourish more the tighter she held him. It started to feel unpleasant. He was about to open his mouth to ask her to let loose a little but Vivian beat him to it and let him go. She jumped up from the windowsill and explained her plan further.

"I'll bring the idea up at Council meeting today! Then I'll talk to Principal Hand! If I can convince the council, we can present and defend Robyn's case together and proclaim him Student of the Year!"

"Ye'd do that?"

Vivian turned around and stared at Micah like he had offended her.

"Robyn is my friend. If I can use my position in school politics to give him the acknowledgement he deserves, I'll gladly do so!"

"Ye're not scared people will complain ye're abusing yer power?" Micah cocked his eyebrow with a smirk. He knew Vivian cared what others thought of her and he knew that she'd hate to be accused of abusing her position as Student Council President. It was a tease between friends. He knew she'd interpret it as such.

"They can complain and whine to their hearts content, I'm gone in a month anyway. Besides, that's Novell family tradition." Vivian tossed her hair back and rolled her eyes.

Micah was actually baffled at her response. It was no secret the Novell family played dirty and had a few cases of rumored power abuse but to hear Vivian, who despised being associated with her family, owning up to this family trait left him speechless. Even if if was only acted, which he assumed it was.

"That didn't sound as badass as I wanted it to, did it?

"Not at all."

"Nevermind that." Vivian clapped her hands together and beamed at Micah as she prepared to make her idea a reality. "I'll keep you updated!"

"Rad, thanks, Vi." he smiled.

"Keep this whole idea a secret though! I'm thinking we should make it a surprise on graduation day." she said over her shoulder with a wink.

"My lips are sealed." Micah mimed pulling a zipper over his mouth and locking it with a key, which he then burned in a flame on his palm.

Vivian gave him a nod of approval and then waved goodbye as she headed to the Council meeting room.

Micah waved back and followed her with his eyes until she was out of sight. He chuckled over how wrong he had been about her. He used to hate her guts and he had cursed Titan into oblivion when he was forced to work with her for the construction magic course but he had judged her way too fast. He understood why Robyn still kept in touch with her even after rejecting her. Vivian was a good friend. He really grew a liking to her over this last school year. And this whole Student of the Year thing was one of the reasons why. She'd pull every lever she can to get Robyn some kind of acknowledgement. As Robyn's boyfriend that made Micah happy. It was proof others cared too and that no one (safe for a few vain people) thought he didn't belong here.

He opened his book again and was about to continue his revision on advanced abomination magic when suddenly he heard his name being yelled again.

"Mike!! Thanks for waiting! Course ended earlier. You ready to help me with taming some beasts?"

Well, there goes his study-free evening at home.

[makeyoumine69]

Guilty Pleasure

— PAIRING: Patrick Bateman x Fem!Reader

— SUMMARY: After you made a mistake in one of yours latest reports, Patrick Bateman — your boss — calls you to the meeting room to teach you a lesson.

— CONTAINS: Smut, Daddy kink, degradation, praising, dry humping, pet names, dirty talk, humiliation, nipple play/sucking, hair hulling, biting, spanking, marking.

— WORDS: 1.2k

— A/N: Sorry, I had to repost this fic due to this situation. More information about my writing challenge you can find here.

— LINKS: [MASTERLIST]; [2k CELEBRATION MASTERLIST]

Your heart was beating like a ticking bomb inside your chest as you made your way to the conference room where your big boss — Patrick Bateman — was waiting for you. You had no other choice but to comply, even though you didn't want to go. Tense, yet annoyed, you turned the last corner and saw a small group of yuppies whose arrogant expressions made you sick. Although you tried to ignore the way one of them looked at you — Timothy Bryce as far as you could remember — something heavy dropped in your gut, you hated that kind of attitude, so you had to bite your tongue and open the door to the meeting room.

As soon as you stepped inside, you noticed Patrick sitting at the large wooden table across from the entrance, wearing his favorite black pinstripe suit with red tie and Oliver Peoples O'Malley glasses.

"You're late." He muttered, not even bothering to look at you as he flipped through a folder of documents.

"No, I'm not! You asked me to come at eleven."

Only then did he deign to glance at you — his piercing gaze instantly sent shivers down your spine. "11 o'clock was 10 minutes ago, darling."

Damn it!

A sharp breath escaped your lips as you checked your watch and realized that he was right. "I'm sorry, sir."

Bateman couldn't help but grin with satisfaction and put the folder aside, tapping his long fingers on the table surface. "Do you know why you're here?"

Embarrassed, you looked down for a second, unable to bear the way he was staring at you. "Actually, no."

His low hum bounced off the walls of the meeting room, and now you could finally admit to yourself that you were so damn nervous and even scared, but you couldn't show it to him. After all, you needed this job, you'd already done so much to get the chance to work at P&P, you couldn't let it all end like this.

"I wanted to talk to you about the last report you did for me," Patrick beckoned you with a soft smile, and you could swear that this jerk was enjoying every second of this situation, almost like having the power over you was his personal kink. "I think I found a mistake that is quite serious."

"That can't be," you gasped, moving toward his seat. "I've double-checked everything so many times and—"

"Hey, it's all right," he cut you off, watching you come closer and shamelessly checking out your legs. "Mmm, this skirt is better than your previous ones, but it's still not short enough."

Scowling, you took a deep breath to not just punch him right in his perfect face and just leave.

"C'mon, have a seat." He playfully motioned to his knee, but you pretended not to understand his gesture and tried to sit on the chair nearby. That annoyed him slightly, so he grabbed you by your hips and forced you to sit on his lap. "Are you testing me, babydoll?"

His large palm was already tracing invisible patterns along your breasts through your silk blouse, not even giving you a chance to protest. Taking advantage of your shock, he nipped at your neck, leaving a few hickeys that made you squeal.

"Mr. Bateman!"

"Shush," he growled in a raspy voice, quickly positioning you in a way that made you face him, and his knee was right between your thighs. "Do you want the whole office to know what a slut you are? If I remember correctly, you care about your job."

Smirking, he watched you close your eyes in embarrassment and pulled up the hem of your skirt to squeeze your ass. The cold metal of his Rolex brushed against your skin, making you gasp, and he used the moment to kiss you hard on the lips. He plugged his warm tongue in and your mouth and you immediately squeaked against his lips.

"Ahh, look at you," Bateman crooned sweetly, drawing a long, wet line across your face. "Such a dirty little whore! You like it when Daddy plays rough with you, huh?"

Panting, you whimpered as he tugged on your hair to make you look at him. "Yes, Daddy...I l-love everything you do to me."

"Ohh, is that so?" He chuckled and unbuttoned your blouse so he could slide his hand inside to play with one of your swollen nipples. "Now be a good girl and prove it to me."

God, everything was too much, his hoarse voice sent shivers down your spine, and not to mention the way his skilled fingers twisted your little tip, pinching it a bit too tightly, but that only spurred your pussy to pulsate even more. You let him pull you into another kiss, his lips moving greedily against yours, and you didn't even notice that you were starting to grind against his thigh, your throbbing clit rubbing against the expensive fabric of his pants, increasing the tingling in your lower abdomen.

"Mmmhm, Daddy," you clang desperately at his strong biceps through his suit, causing him to grunt in response. "Someone can see us."

"Then be quiet," Patrick licked your neck and groped your hips, forcing you to move faster. "I'm going to rip your panties off and fuck you right here if you don't cum soon."

Holy shit.

You wanted to cry at the strength which he held your thighs, pinning you to his lap and twisting your taut nipples one by one until he took one of them into his mouth.

"Aww!" You yelped quietly as he bit your peak with his sharp teeth. "I'm so… I'm s-so close… mhmm…!"

Wrapping your hands around his neck, you surrendered to his power, letting the delightful rapture consume you completely as your soft inner walls began to clench around nothing. When Bateman noticed the way you were twitching, he squeezed your hips even harder, pressing you close to his firm body as you couldn't stop shaking. You thought you would bite your lips so hard till the point of drawing blood, but Bateman stopped you by pushing his thumb inside your warm mouth, and you sucked on it as if your life depended on it.

"Yes. Just like that," he cooed to you, unable to take his eyes off your shivering body. "You make Daddy so proud."

With that, he slapped your ass and stood up, holding you in his arms. Gently, he placed you on the table and spread your legs to admire the view of your soaked pussy. He then roughly pulled down your panties — you didn't have the strength or courage to resist.

"Imagine if someone came in and saw me eating you out," he snickered, giving your cunt a quick slap that made you whimper and flinch from the overstimulation. Smugly, Patrick adjusted his pants and hid your wet underwear in the pocket of his suit. "I bet you want this."

The voices behind the door only grew louder, but you couldn't hear them because your own heartbeat drowned out all sounds. If you ended up losing your job, at least you would know who was to blame, and one day you would take your revenge, one way or another.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my side blog @makeyoumineagain and turn on notifications to know when I update!

[sevenop]

Billie Eilish x Fem!reader: But now I'm underwater

A/n: Because of tight deadlines at work, you're stressed out, critically sleep deprived and overly addicted to coffee. Billie suggests that you distract yourself by watching a horror film, and you agree good-naturedly, unable to refuse her. What you haven't considered is the fact that stress, coffee and imagination are a potent mix. Billie finds an ingenious way to calm you down and unload the thoughts from your head.

Inspired by "WHEN I WAS OLDER".

The coffee, to put it as honestly as possible, makes you sick and nauseous to the point of godlessness, but you bring your lips to the ceramic edge of the beige mug once again, gulping down this dark concoction, drenched in milk for salvation. Over the past three days, it's become frankly unclear what your goals are: to finish the unfortunate paperwork, where the stack of documents resembles the world-famous Tower of Pisa? Or to completely eradicate the countless red blood cells in your body by forcing your heart to pump not blood but tart caffeine through your arteries? Too complicated a question to answer honestly, especially considering the almost three days where you slept a maximum of four hours at most, if not less.

You rest your elbows on the surface of the desk, buried in a makeshift fan of papers, and put your palms against your weary face, as if hiding from the letters. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out... You try not to go crazy in this stream of meaningless bureaucracy, and the phone under the pile of papers so treacherously pinging and you instantly want to start sobbing. Is it really again this annoying bosses?.. With your hands as if you were wiping off the accumulated fatigue from your face, getting out from under the saving "curtain" of your own fingers, but it's a sincere self-deception: the circles under your eyes as blue, and continue to blue, approaching the shade of indigo, and your fingers shake a little when you fish the phone out of the snow-white ocean of ink letters. A relaxed exhale rolls through the office and you allow yourself a slight smile, the very corner of your lips. It's just Billie. Although, considering that she's lowered your anxiety level with just one message, it's silly to use such a crude phrase as "just" in reference to her. Except you've been a little tight lately under the weight of circumstances, so you're forgiven.

"Hey."

Just like that, in three letters and without much meaning. You snort with a chuckle, interlocking the bridge of your nose with your fingers. The best you can come up with is to mirror her own message:

"Hey."

The dots under her avatar bounce around, revealing a response so fast that you don't even have time to think about blissfully covering your work-weary eyes for a moment.

"Oh, you haven't died over that nonsense yet, my workaholic."

"I swear I'd slap you a couple times if you were here, Eilish..."

Three dots bounce harmlessly, and with the appearance of a gray text border, hit you squarely in the solar plexus:

"I hope you'll slap my ass, Mommy? :)"

You are confused in words and thoughts that replace each other in your head with the third cosmic speed. You squint hard to stare stupidly at the display. Have I mentioned yet that your relationship with Billie is a highly ambiguous thing? No? Well, don't be surprised that you often have to deftly balance on the sharp edge of under-friendship and under-relationship as a couple. It's all too confusing, and you two just don't have time to deal with it: Eilish is flying to the other side of the world, or you're swamped with paperwork and frequent business trips. But with all this chaos you feel a strange comfort, that's why you don't hurry to change something, even if your heart beats much faster in the presence of her, it's don't care. Why touch something that already works, albeit with a kind of "crutch"?

"Yes, exclusively the your delightful ass. So sorry you're not here, such a moment gone."

Underneath the blue frame of your message, little gray letters and one thin check mark instantly pop up: 'read'. Billie's status changes to offline, but the phone in the palm of your hand immediately announces itself by ringing loudly. The screen offers two buttons as standard and snidely glares with letters and a pink emoji: "talented runt🩷". Okay, this is something you really didn't expect. You squeeze the green icon and your heart is already doing backflips right in your sternum, hitting your trachea just as you take a breath and lick your momentarily parched lips.

"Come out, dumbass, I'm waiting." - Eilish shoots out the words confidently, with a smirk audible even on the wire.

"What do you mean?" - you get up from your chair instantly, either feeling some sudden surge of long-abandoned strength or obeying her words unknowingly. You walk over to the window, and with both hands clasping the phone between your ear and shoulder, you wrap both hands around the rope hanging from the side of the blinds. The wide, vertical strips of lamellae rustle to become sideways, revealing a view of your front patio, and you ooze in surprise. - "Are you serious?.."

"That's the only way with you," - you see Billie leave the cabin, palm running her hand over the dark side of her Dodge, warmed by the verdant sun. - "I'm taking you to my place for a few days, no refusals are accepted."

"Why so royal, O'Connell?" - Sticking your gaze to the window, you frown, running your palm through your hair and ruffling it. - "What are you, my asshole boss?"

"With the way you're about to die at that fucking desk of yours if you don't have at least one distraction a night." - Eilish gales of giggles into the tube and turns around on the heels exactly to the window from which you stare at her, a word from the watchtower. She waves her hand at you, catching your stare and you can't contain the smile that blossoms on your face. - "And I'm deeply offended that you're comparing me to that old turd, know that!"

"And how do I make it up to you?" - you squint slyly, and Billie tsks so theatrically that it looks like some kind of acting sin.

"Going to see a horror movie with me right now, naturally."

"I'll be fired if I don't turn in my report today, Eilish." - you sigh heavily, turning your head toward your desk: the paper tower is momentarily overtaken by a wave of doom hidden in your gaze.

"It's high time you got the fuck out of there, and we both know it." - the voice from the phone has a seductively truthful huskiness and wind noise. - "And I just... I genuinely hate it when you're not appreciated, Y/n."

You sigh again, it seemingly heavier by another seventy and a half ounces than before, shifting your gaze back and forth to the ginormous stack, then to the window. A silence hangs on the wire and neither of you two are in a hurry to break it, only the occasional breeze walking down the street. A new deep breath makes the tired gears in your head finally stop, giving birth to the long awaited answer.

"Give me a couple minutes, I'll put on some decent clothes."

"I don't mind if you come out completely naked to me." - The huskiness in her voice immediately became more draughty, like the sweetest and most desirable molasses.

"Shut up, O'Connell," - you jump with a laugh without malice, covering your eyes with your hand and your newly leaping heart with a silly joke. With Eilish, sometimes it's just impossible. In every sense of the word.

×××

The shark cuts through the murky ocean surface with its sharp fin as easily and effortlessly as a sharp pair of scissors cuts through paper. Because of its nimbleness, you can't tell at once that it is a multi-pound killing machine created by the most peace-loving Mother Nature. The guy on the screen staggers away from the edge of the shoreline, landing with a thud on the loose sand on his ass covered in red pants. He crawls farther and farther away from the water, his feet digging into the sand, and the shark snaps its two rows of sharp teeth several times, not so much to get the poor guy as to laugh at him. You cover your eyes for a second, thinking about the fact that the shark is still too big even for the category of a giant, and then you are immediately and imperceptibly pulled into the darkness of the stubborn waves of sleep. Waves... Just like on a big TV screen: dark blue, in their foamy restlessness.

"Well, that's just downright idiotic, isn't it?" - Eilish chuckles softly, mingling annoyance with irony, and you open your eyes lazily, once again slipping back into tired reality. Lying on her soft thighs with your head overdone is lulling. - "Why don't you just wait for the rescuers?"

"Because it's a second-rate movie, Eilish," - you cover your lips with the palm of your hand, nimbly catching a bursting yawn. - "And in mainstream movies like this, the characters are, properly, genre stupid."

"I was betting on high internet ratings." - Billie mutters resentfully, swinging both arms out to the sides in a way so amusing that you chuckle quietly. Your eyes inadvertently cling to the line of her jaw so perfect in its perfection, sliding down her neck and next - her collarbones mostly exposed because of her tank top. Shit...

"A collapse of hope?" - Your voice is uncharacteristically husky, causing Billie to tilt her head down, leisurely examining every feature of your face. Blue irises immediately draw in the blue light from the TV, hypnotizing you into darkness. It seems that another minute of this gaze and you will drown. In her seas, however, it's only honor and out-of-this-world joy.

"You're sleepy, hey," - Eilish smiles that warm, motherly tinged smile and strokes your cheekbone with her thumb. You give in closer, almost falling apart in a purring sound like a petted cat, but you immediately pull yourself back. It seems unnecessary. Billie seems to have read you by your body language, because the calm blue of her eyes is broken by a prehensile whitish light of excitement. - "Relax, I'm all for it."

You smile softly, inhaling, and Billie looks with a mute question directly at you, stopping the rhythmic stroking. You squint slyly, mirroring her same line, only now live:

"Relax, I'm all for it..."

You cover your eyes again, blissfully letting go of your inner handrail of total control and anxiety. Should you grasp it so tightly when you two are happy with everything right now? Absolutely not. Eilish, who had previously been exploring your face with her gaze, now traces your features with her fingers, as if reading you like a kind of Braille script. The tips of her fingers feel so weightless, so pleasantly warm.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to sleep?" - her fingers touch the thin skin beneath your eyes, and you snort to yourself barely audible: her fingertips 'waltzing' on your blueness, mentally estimating how many mugs of coffee are now inside you. Oh, you don't even doubt it. - "Four?"

"Five." - you challenge her guess, receiving a sensual poke in the shoulder. - "The mug was always half milk, don't get mad."

"Knock it off, dumbass." - she touches your cheeks with her palms and you open your eyes, feeling the dreamy velvet of her skin. - "Your heart's going to pop out."

"Afraid someone will pick it up faster than you, Eilish?"

Billie is silent at first, flashing her eyes somehow unreadable to you, and then also smirking with that cheeky stroke of hers, smearing over any perception of her true emotions, but it doesn't all feel cloying, just hidden beneath a thin smoky veil.

"I don't like to lose my treasures, you know that."

"So I won't get lost." - you gently catch her wrist, entwining your fingers in a unique mutual symmetry, and Eilish leans a little lower and her well-groomed dark hair falls down over her face, hiding you both. - "And... I didn't tell you because I really enjoy spending time with you, even when I look more like the semblance of a walking corpse."

Also because I'm slowly falling in love with you, but I can't admit it.

"Stupid, I love you, you know?" - a white twinkle flickers again in the water's surface, reminiscent of the light of a saving beacon in the midst of a silent abyss. It seems to you that Billie leans even a little closer, even though in the semi-darkness it can really be written off as a work-weary mind. - "Go to sleep, I can't watch you torture yourself for me."

"Not until after the lullaby, Mom," - you twist your voice deliberately, making it sound childish and quiet. You rest your head comfortably on her delightful hips and stare expectantly, caressed by the intimacy of her gaze and strands of soft hair: like a single boat in a vast ocean, guarded reverently by sea nymphs and noisy sea foam, you are hidden in the darkness of a starless night from everyone and everything. - "Please."

Billie only smiles and takes the first note quietly, stroking your head leisurely and lovingly.

"Hmm..."

×××

"I'm on my back again."

You slam your shoulder blades into the boardwalk of the flimsy raft, and you really don't know if it's the cracking of the tall strips of wood or your own weary bones. You squint hard, echoing the hissing of the waves, and they immediately pelt you from head to toe, tearing you down and showering you with dead, salty cold. Your clothes, soaked to the skin, have long ago stuck to your body like a second skin, giving you no chance of even one fahrenheit of warmth, but only echoing the angry, howling owl-like wind and the ravenous, dark murk of the ocean water. You surface, it seems, for the seventh time, and with trembling hands you grasp again the edge of the raft, like a poor priest in exile for the Bible: desperately, with the last grains of faith falling through your fingers.

"Dreaming of a time and place, where you and I remain the best of friends. Even after all this ends..."

The waves are raging, whipping at your eyes fiercely, wanting to blind you and to penetrate your throat with their scalding drops. You are paddling with your legs with all your might, struggling, pulling yourself up on your weakened arms, and still nothing comes out. A new clap and you're off completely, the merciless waves press you with their thickness, drowning you. You twitch, wanting to dive out, and with your hands and feet you push the dark sea maelstrom away, but something seems to pull you to the deepest bottom, closing around your waist.

"Can we pretend?" - her voice, melded with the sound of the water, fills your ears and for a second you feel the warmth and softness of her palm, which grips you lifesavingly, closing your fingers gently. Your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen and you scream silently, releasing bubbles glistening under the faint rays into the blue darkness: you want to just drown, die and to stop this exhausting uraboros forever. But not with her.

"I'm on my, I'm on my back again."

A new pop shoots into the air as you touch your back to the raft again with force, as if falling from somewhere in the frowning, impenetrable black cloud-covered sky. A ragged exhalation leaves your sea-worn body, making your lungs rattle and tear streaks run down your pale, thin skin. With each such fall, you become more and more like a ghost. And you hear her more and more clearly.

"It's seeming more and more like all we ever do is see how far it bends," - your cold-blue lips move, releasing a white cloud of vapor into the aspic space of the sky, the only thing still warm here besides Eilish's palms. - "Before it breaks in half and then..."

"We bend it back again," - her whisper rustles in the storm as the sea picks up your raft like a feather. Her whisper is the only thing keeping you here. - "You'd really like it in the limelight, you'd sympathize with all the bad guys?"

"I'm still a victim in my own right," - you grin with a grin at the menacing clouds, and hungry water crawls onto your murdered raft, heralding a new upheaval. Intuition alarms the back of your head, telling you it could be fatal. - "But I'm the villain in my own eyes, yeah."

Clap! And you're underwater again, staring helplessly at your ungodly pale palms, stretched upward by the pressure of the water, to its very surface. Eilish is no longer whispering, and you see no point in fighting, accepting your own bitter lot that you have been hiding. No, not from her. From yourself.

"I love you, Eilish," - your lips are ajar, releasing small bubbles as your lungs slowly fill with water, burning through your ribs from lack. You stare after the bubbles, watching mortally as they float upwards and then burst. It's the only thing you have left. Now you slam your back against the side again and everything will be started again.... But only this time an incomprehensible dark spot is coming towards you like a torpedo from a submarine, cutting through the infinity of space around you with its powerful body. You catch the glint of sharp teeth bared in two aligned rows and forcefully push the oxygen out of your chest, shaking the abyss in a scream that finally sounds.

×××

"Shark!" - You jump up startled from the couch, spinning the soft plaid over you in an awkward whirlwind. Your heel steps on the very edge of the fabric and you fall thunderously to the floor, driving your back on the gray armrest of the sofa, causing a lump of deja vu to stick in your throat, preventing you from breathing properly. It's almost like being on that damn raft. You hear something in the hallway quickly tsk in your direction and just stare, shivering in the imaginary cold. Have you lost your mind already?

A gray pit bull snorts, appearing in the doorway, expressing concern. His blue eyes stare at you unblinkingly before he runs up to you and sits his full weight on your legs. The dog whines, licking you on the line of your chin, his muzzle pulling higher and higher as if It's like he feels and wants to figure out what you're scared of. Just like his mistress. It's just Shark's goody-goody in front of you, which means it was just a dream. You take your first steady, almost relaxed breath.

"Thanks, buddy." - you gently stroke Shark's stately muzzle, to which he squints his eyes contentedly, snuggling closer and you feel warm. - "Don't worry, just a mine bad dream."

A new stomp disrupts your little idyll, making look into the doorway with not one, but two pairs of eyes anymore. You both know who it is, but you stare mesmerized anyway, until the inky head and piercing ocean blue of the gaze emerge from the darkness.

"Hey, are you okay?" - Billie crosses the space of the room so quickly, ending up next to you, that you have to blink in disbelief. She sits down next to you, leaning side by side, and burrows her fingers into the short gray fur on Shark's sturdy side, scratching. The pit bull grunts, summarizing contentment with the whole situation. - "I heard a shriek, and then this little brat ran toward you. Bad dream?"

"There is such a thing." - you smile, feeling the warmth around you crawl almost into your very heart, nesting there as a brightly colored bird. - "I guess you could say I dreamt about you."

"You gonna tell me?" - Billie spreads her legs a little to the side, bumping her knee against yours unobtrusively, but you sense something in that small movement, as you do in her attentive gaze.

You draw in a breath to start arranging your words properly in the air, and Eilish immediately puts her index finger to your lips.

"Wait, I have a weird idea." - her warm chuckle purrs pleasantly in the semi-darkness before drowning out in the rustle of clothes as Billie rises to her feet, giving you a hand. - "Take the plaid and come with me, please."

And now you are here - sitting together in the cabin of her car, wrapped in a home-made plaid, and through the open door looking at the quietly splashing ocean of a deserted night beach, while she embraces you from behind securely, firmly. Shark scurries along the sandy edge of the shore, trying to bite the playful sea foam with his teeth, but immediately sticks out his tongue in frustration: it's too salty. You chuckle as Billie remains philosophically silent, digesting your story. Indeed, she was right: the view of the calm seascape is soothing, even with your nightmare fresh in your mind. What can I say, Billie's embrace is the perfect lifeline.

"So... How did the sensation of my presence make you feel?" - her hot fingers nervously rub the edge of your voluminous T-shirt as if waiting for a command or a starting shot. - "Were you afraid of the sea?"

"I wanted to fight to the end, as long as I could hear you," - you smile, watching Shark stride toward you, awkwardly shaking her hind paws off the wet sand. - "Even though the sea was insanely cold."

You cover her palms with yours, deftly ducking under the hem of your t-shirt with her, deliberately slow, giving her a chance to pull back if she wants to. The skin-to-skin contract makes you both flinch (you can literally feel Eilish's anxiety in your backs), but Billie pauses for a second, then rises a little higher, reaching her palms to the center of your waist. Her palms, devoid of any of the silver bands of the rings now feel especially trembling, hot. You are both defenseless against each other.

"But why?" - Her husky voice excitement, tickles touching the curl of your ear.

"I just... realized something back there in the dream," - The dog flops to your feet, spinning playfully in the sand and you parenthetically groan. - "While I was underwater."

Eilish so deftly turns you around to face her, ignoring the height difference, and palms your face. In the white light of the salon, her blue eyes sparkle with intense blue luminescence, dissected by a white light of hope. Everything confusing instantly becomes so clear and readable when she finally allows you to peer into her soul straight through her captivating oceanic abysses.

"Nobody lonely like I'm lonely and I don't know whether," - the thumb of her right hand gently strokes the very corner of your lips as she clings to your soul with her eyes, as if afraid to let herself off the hook of her own conjecture into the wading cold waters of despair. - "But really, why? Tell me the truth."

"I could drown, but now I'm under the water of only your stupid and unforgettable beautiful eyes, Eilish. It's simply impossible to drown twice." - you hide your hands behind your back in embarrassment, but you don't take your eyes off her an inch. - "And I love you, it's just that simple."

Billie stares at you in silence, and then in one movement she touches your cold lips with her heated ones so leisurely and tastefully that you cover your eyes in pleasure, realizing that she is smiling right in the middle of a kiss. Her hands, having been on your cheeks all this time, slide slowly back to your waist, stroking your shoulders with pressure and very lightly, as if in counterbalance, your breasts. She bites your lip, asking for more and dropping a lot "I love you" with an excited gasp, like a precious sea pearl.

"Please let me be your personal sea for life, my brave sailor."

And you only manage to nod in agreement, tearing breaths before she pulls you into another kiss, knocking your pulse racing. Just like the sea. Your own private sea.

[snaillamp]

"You won't need an enemy to knock you out if you keep like this."

If you're still up to :D And so sorry that this doesn't fit with your ocs.

~Squishy

Ayye Squishy!!! Dont worry about it not being my ocs, this is a perfect excuse for leader whump which ive been wanting to do for a while :D

five second fic

~~

Dead Man Walking

Leader watched the document in front of them blur and sighed. They rubbed their eyes, trying to rid them of the double vision, their head spinning, and body heavy. Their team had been assigned a difficult mission, and they had to make sure everything was ready.

They were so tired, but still had so much to do... But they needed sleep.

They eased out of their chair with a soft grunt, yawning as the world swayed slightly, shuffling to their room. They stiffly pulled off their clothes, getting into their soft pajamas and lying down in their cold, but soft bed.

They instantly felt the aching in their bones ease, their muscles relaxing as they began to shut their eyes, only for a loud, grating alarm to snap them out of their dozing.

With a closed fist, the hit the button to make it shut up, hearing their team begin their morning. Leader groaned as the sat back up, getting to their feet and going out to join them. They could have a nap later.

As they walked into the kitchen, they heard Second in Command say something.

"Hmm?" Leader responded, looking around with bleary eyes.

"I said good morning." Second chuckled. "You look like you slept well."

Leader shrugged, making themself a large coffee, and sitting down at the table. They felt like death warmed up.

"Hey so, what's on the books for today? I know you have that meeting today too. Maybe I should take the others on a drill exercise or something while you do that?"

"Yeah, do whatever you want." Leader mumbled into their coffee, sitting up straighter to avoid their head colliding with the table.

Second narrowed their eyes, looking at Leader.

"Leader..." They whispered, so that no one else could hear. "You okay? You look like shit."

"Just haven't slept much this week... Preparing for the mission." Leader mumbled back, taking another sip of their coffee.

"How much have you slept?" They asked.

"Uhhhh....." Leader frowned as they thought, their brain slow.

"7 hours..."

Second grimaced. "Leader, 7 hours a night isn't enough, especially with the mission coming up."

"No, I mean this week. I've slept for 7 hours."

"You're telling me you've slept an hour a night every night this week?" Second said a little louder, causing everyone to look at Leader.

"It's fine. I was going to catch up on sleep today." Leader lied.

Second nodded, playing along to cover for their friend.

Leader got up, finishing their coffee and stalking away, to their office. Second followed them, watching them sit at their desk and sigh.

Leader stared at the words, but they didn't even make sense anymore. They could barely read the words, let alone make sense of what they were trying to say.

"Leader. You need to rest."

"No, I have too much to do. Don't worry about me, Second, I've managed on less sleep than this."

"I know you were up all last night. You didn't sleep at all." Second accused them. "I heard you walk to your room."

Leader grimaced, their room was next to Second's, and the only one on that end of the compound. of course Second would've known it was them.

"Go to bed for a few days. Rest, I'll handle this, its what I'm here for."

Leader shook their head. "I can't force you to take on this workload. The High Command has been giving me so much to prepare for before the misson and I'm already behind."

"So, tell them you're sick, and let me help you. Please, Leader."

"I'm fine." Leader said firmly. They glanced at their watch. "I have a meeting to get to."

Second watched hopelessly as Leader wandered off towards the front door, disappearing.

~~

"Leader." Everyone greeted the tired looking Leader. They had neatened themself up in the bathroom before they went into the meeting, and at least looked presentable, even if the shadows under their eyes were practically getting their own shadows.

Leader zoned out for most of the meeting, it was a pointless one anyway, talking about meeting quotas and making thing cheaper. Leader nodded along to the pointless graphs and data points, before they got up to leave.

The world swayed, and everything went blurry as they sat back down in the seat. Getting up again, Leader steeled themself, setting their jaw and just focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. They felt like a zombie.

They were almost home when their legs almost dropped out from under them, only for a strong arm to catch them as they fell.

"Idiot." Second grunted, heaving Leader's almost unconscious body up, and steadying them. "I was thinking," They began as they practically dragged Leader towards home. "We should take you on a training mission, get an enemy to knock you out so you get some sleep."

They jostled Leader, who had began slipping from Second's grip, grunting as they hauled Leader's arm over their shoulders.

"You won't need an enemy to knock you out if you keep going like this."

Leader smirked slightly. "You always have creative ideas." They mumbled, as Second got them inside.

The next thing they knew, they were waking up, snuggled in their bed with Medic standing over them, not looking impressed.

"Hey Leader." They started softly. "How you feeling?"

Leader's body felt drained, and heavy, like their bones were made of lead. They couldn't muster the energy to reply.

"Figures, you've been asleep for two days."

Leader's eyes widened, as they tried to sit up. They had so much to catch up on.

"No, stay down. You need sleep, we're handling everything else. Second says all your work is good, and that they'll just finish up the filler paper work while you rest."

Leader lay back, half relieved that they didn't have to move.

"Get some rest, the mission is coming up and we need you at your best."

Leader nodded, their eyes already sliding shut again.

It felt amazing.

[stellas-et-abyssum-vincite]

Come Home With Me ~ *Neuvillette*

Summary: It's Wriothesley who has to tell you that Neuvillette is sick. You know he's stubborn and won't want to leave work despite feeling under the weather. Still, you have to try!

Pairing: Neuvillette X Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluffy Drabble

Word Count: 946

Warning: Neuvillette is only OOC because he's sick

Masterlist

It was Wriothesly who came to see you, which was a surprise in and of itself.

“Hello?” You called out from your office when you heard you had a visitor.

“Miss Y/n?” He sounded a little nervous as he entered your office, making you stand up from your desk with concern.

“Hello, Wriothesley. What seems to be the matter? It's not like you to come in unannounced, not that I mind of course. I'm just surprised, that's all.”

Surprised was putting it mildly.

He hesitated once more, before he sighed and said, “It’s Neuvillette. He’s sick, but he refuses to leave his office to rest. I was wondering if maybe you could come and convince him to take care of his health?”

“Of course." I nod before gathering my things. "Will you escort me please?"

"I'd be delighted to." He nodded before offering you his arm. He then added, "Thank you again. I've never seen him this sick before."

You shook your head. "I should have noticed sooner. He seemed to be under the weather as of late. I should have asked him to stay home when I knew."

"Ah, he's stubborn." Wriothesley chuckled. "I'm not even sure you'll be able to get him to rest now. But the Melusines wanted me to ask you anyway."

"Well I'm glad they did. I will certainly try my best!"

It didn't take you long before you found yourself at the Palais Mermonia. Wriothesley escorted you all the way to his office where you found him working at his desk. A group of Melusines were crowding around the open doorway, where you could hear him sneezing and coughing.

Sigewinne gasped when she saw you before bouncing to your side. "Monsieur Wriothesley! Mademoiselle Y/n! It's good to see you again! Are you here for Monsieur Neuvillette?"

You nod and pat her gently on the head. "Of course, my dear. I hear the stubborn lawyer is sick and refusing to leave his work. Is that right?"

She nodded, a serious look passing over her face. "He's been ill all day! We've tried to get him to go home, but he refuses to listen."

"Well, we'll see about that." You mutter under your breath. "Now if you'll excuse me, my dear."

"Come on, Sigewinne." Wriothesley beckoned for her. "I'll take you and the Melusines out to get some sweets."

Her eyes lit up at his words. "Really Monsieur Wriothesley? Oh, that would be wonderful! Thank you, thank you!"

As he led the Melusines away from the door, you entered Neuvillette's office and quietly shut the door. He didn't seem to notice your presence, completely enraptured by the documents on his desk. He looked awful, and it made you all the more determined to pull him away from work so he could rest.

Kneeling next to his desk chair, you placed a hand over his unoccupied one. This caused him to jump in his seat before staring at you. “When did you get here, my darling? What are you doing here?”

You smiled. “I’m here to take you home, my love. You’re sick. Let me help take you home so you can rest and take care of yourself, please.”

He shook his head and turned back to the papers before him. “No, I can’t. I’m behind enough as it is with these cases. I need to stay and finish all my work.”

“Not like this you can’t.” You squeezed his hand. “Please, Neuvillette, my love. Please come home with me.”

Again he shook his head, his hand shaking as he tried to write some more. “No, I really can’t. Please, let me stay and finish this paperwork.”

With a sigh, you stood, with your hand still on his. Taking your free hand, you gently leaned his head against your abdomen. “You’re tired, my love. Please, come home with me. I’ll help you with your work when we’re at home, I promise you.”

Neuvillette’s eyes had fluttered closed from your gesture and he hummed in response to your words, “Are you sure?”

“I’m absolutely sure. Now, please, let’s go home.”

“Okay. We can go home.”

Carefully, you helped him to his feet, his body still leaning against yours. Slowly, you let him out of the Palais Mermonia, with the other lawyers and Melusines staring at the two of you in surprise. They had never seen the Iudex like this before. But he was too tired to notice their stares. And you weren't going to tell him, because you knew he would just be embarrassed by the events of the day. You just let him cling to you as you left the Palais Mermonia.

When you were on the streets of Fontaine, you found Wriothesley, Sigewinne, and the other Melusines to tell them that he would be right as rain in a few days. Sigewinne commented about how sweet Monsieur Neuvillette looked in your arms. Wriothesley joked about you being his mother, which earned him a smack from you. Still you asked them not to get sick themselves before leading Neuvillette home.

On your walk home, he snuggled deeper into your neck, making you giggle. “You’re too good to me.”

“Is that so, my love?”

He nodded. “I still can’t believe you agreed to marry me, my darling.”

“Well, who else would take care of you like this? We all know it's not going to be Wriothesley, he's too busy. And Sigewinne means well, but she'd need help too.” You kissed his cheek. “Now, enough talking. Let’s get you home and into bed. We need to break this fever of yours.”

“And do my paperwork?”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure, my love. Whatever you say.”

[apteryxparvus]

Request for the 100 follower event!

Scaramouche/Wanderer (Genshin Impact), fluff! :^

If you don't have any ideas, maybe Scaramouche taking care of sick reader? (I'm caught a cold recently, lol)

But feel free to write it as you want to.

Congratulations on 100 followers!

Hello! And thank you for the request 😊 Hope you're feeling better now, anon!

Part of my ✨ 100 followers milestone event ✨ that ran from September 2nd to September 9th.

Pairing — Scaramouche / Reader

Word count — 942

Content warning — none

“Back to bed, now,” Scaramouche orders, his stern expression flickering between you and the stack of papers you’re desperately clutching against your chest. You manage a sheepish grin, hugging the documents closer.

“No.”

“I’ve already told you more than once. Go back to bed.” Your boyfriend argues, taking a slow step towards you. “You’re unwell, running a fever, and you need to rest.”

“These papers won’t grade themselves, you know?”

He mutters something under his breath, mild annoyance crossing his face. In a split second, he’s in front of you, swiftly taking the papers from your grasp. You let out a gasp, attempting to reach them. It’s a futile attempt — the paper’s too high to reach.

“Give them back!” you exclaim. He gives you a deadpan stare.

You shift around, trying to outmaneuver him, hoping to somehow gain the upper hand, but your body is too fatigued. The fever rages through your body, and not even a minute later, you’re panting, feeling the heat course through you. The room suddenly feels a bit too stifling.

“Back to bed,” he repeats. “Or else.”

“Or else what?” you challenge. But deep down you know he’s right, you know your stubbornness is unnecessary, but the idea of the ungraded research papers looms heavily on your mind. The deadline is too close for comfort. And if you didn’t complete the task, you’d face (yet another) lengthy and harsh reprimand from your supervisor — an ordeal you dread, not looking forward to the sight of the long, curly stray hair on his chin, nor the spittle that leaves his lips as he yells out a variety of insults.

Scaramouche pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing yet another sigh. “Bed. Right now.”

“Fine, fine,” you relent, dragging your feet towards the bedroom. You shoot him a nasty, annoyed look and let out a humph.

He trails after you, ensuring your cocooned comfortable in bed, a blanket wrapped snugly around your feverish form.

“I’ll be back with some medication,” he announced, heading towards the bathroom. You hear him rummaging through the cabinet and you frown — Bimarstan’s fever-breaking medication has a bitter, earthy taste that you heavily dislike. And sadly enough, none of the Amurta students seem interested in trying to sweeten up the recipe, claiming it’s good enough as long as it does the job.

A sneeze echoes around the room, and you rub your temples, attempting to alleviate the headache wrapping around your head. You sniffle, sensing another sneeze on the way, and you brace yourself for the burst of pain that will follow.

“Here,” Scaramouche mutters, thrusting the herbal-smelling pills towards you. You grab them, feeling the rough texture as you stare at the dark green circular tablet. ”I’ll bring you some water to help you swallow these.”

“Can I have some tea instead?” you ask, grinning meekly.

“The usual?” You nod, heart warming at the way your boyfriend is taking care of you — despite his prickly personality and tendency to be blunt and sometimes downright mean, he cares a great deal about you.

You leave the pills on the bedside table and snuggle your face into the blanket — it smells like Scaramouche, a woody and grassy scent, mixed with the bitterness of his favorite green tea.

You close your eyes for what feels like a second, the room's peaceful silence coaxing you closer to slumber. Moments later, the bed dips as your boyfriend sits down, a steaming cup of fresh tea in his hands. He helps you sit up, arranging several pillows against the bed frame.

With a grimace, you take the herbal medication and swallow it; of course, it gets stuck in your throat, and you take a few gulps of the hot liquid, coughing at the burn. There's some residue of the pill down your throat, and you take a few more desperate sips of tea, hoping to rid yourself of the taste.

"Idiot," Scaramouche scolds, taking the mug away from you. "Do you want to choke on the tea?"

"'m sorry," you mumble, pouting.

He gently brushes a strand of hair that's sticking to your slightly moist forehead, and you nuzzle into his tender touch. "What am I going to do with you," he mutters under his breath, cupping your cheek, his thumb caressing your bottom lip softly.

"Kiss me to make me feel better?" you joke.

Scaramouche shakes his head, but heeds your request. He moves closer to your burning body, cupping your face with his two hands. You stare at his eyes in astonishment, feeling vulnerable and exposed under his gaze.

"Wait, wait! No! I was just joking," you try to push him away, but he doesn't budge. "You'll get sick too!"

"Idiot," he chuckles. "This puppet body of mine does not suffer from illness." With that, he dips his head, his soft lips meeting yours.

The kiss is unhurried, tender even. You freeze for a moment, then melt into it, savoring the sensation of his body close to yours. His fingers thread through the back of your head, tangled in your tousled hair.

You gingerly nip at his lower lip, and he responds by parting his mouth, allowing the kiss to deepen. Breathless, you're intoxicated by the sensations, the rush of the kiss enough to give you the energy to continue.

You're on the verge of wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, when—

"ACHOO!"

Scaramouche recoils, a mild disgust and disbelief etched on his face.

"Sorry," you mutter sheepishly. "Maybe I should just lie down and nap. Care to join me for a cuddle session?"

"On one condition — never sneeze on my face again."

Author's note: not really proofread, my brain is too fried from uni classes and work 😫

[burning-academia-if]

Hello and welcome to me yapping about BA. I know this is late, but better late than never! (I have been sick since the end of November, so I also didn't get anything done during December fasdfja). This is pretty long, and I mostly wrote it for myself, since I like giving myself something to look back on in the future + reflect on my work. Feel free to skip this, especially because it is over 2k words LMAO

Brief content warning, there will be a very brief mentioning of health at the end. It won't go in to any detail since it is personal, but it is present! There will be a warning right before I talk about it, but I just wanted to give a head's up! Now onwards, to my 2024 look back: Burning Academia edition.

But first 14 years ago

It's the summer of 2011 (or 2010), and you've just discovered the Persona series for the first time. One day, at the mall, you see a copy of Persona 3 Portable on the shelf in the store, and you beg your very Christian mother to buy it for you, watching as she gives a very hard stare at the blatant "M" rating on the case. By some miracle, you manage to convince her to buy it for you, and then proceed to binge and finish the game in 5 days. Your mom promptly takes away your PSP, which is fair enough in hindsight. You'd played at least ten hours of it each day.

It's the summer of 2011 (or 2010, my memory is Bad), and you also discovered flash dating sims on DeviantArt, which also led to your discovery of otome games in general. Both this and P3P merge together into a story idea. One that you note down in a document full of other story ideas. The notes look like this:

Back then, thirteen year old me imagined an otome game mixed with the classic turn based RPG combat system, but made at a much smaller scale. There were 7 boys, and whoever you romanced changed what the final boss looked like.

It was also centered in a high school, and MC was a lot more of a blank slate sort of character, with no real background. They just happened to find a Weird Book at their private high school and got dragged into nonsense. There were still Wraiths (originally called Night Specters) who you fought during the three month span of the game. Said Night Specters were also controlled by the Resident Voice, who was not a love interest in the original.

Baby Em daydreamed about this idea a lot, for most of summer and throughout eight grade honestly. But it fell to the wayside for things I could actually do (basically, just my writing) and that was pretty much the end of that.

Until it wasn't

Flash forward to 2023, where I was having a rough time and unemployed and to give myself joy I went back through a lot of old files on my Google Drive. I'm not really someone that's ever been ashamed of my creative work, and questionable stories and art I drew are things I'm more fond of than anything. When I stumbled upon this, my brain latched on to it, so I took it, and ripped out it's guts to create the current version of Burning Academia.

Rook and Beck are the only "original" ROs from all that time ago. But even then, they've been changed A Lot, to the point where the two of them are completely different from what they used to be. Rhea was always a character (originally named Wish), who acted as the Best Friend/Guide for MC. She also completely changed to the point of being unrecognizable to the original. And Zoe was a random NPC who worked at the library. I took them, reworked them, and decided on these four as the love interests. Four was a perfectly manageable number, and BA had also changed a lot storywise that romance wasn't even the point anymore.

Of course, there clearly isn't four ROs LMAO

So, the Voice. They were also in the OG as the Villain controlling the Specters and manipulating your heart as a means to get whatever they were after. I'll be honest, I don't remember what they were originally after. But I've always liked villains whose connection to the hero is one where they dig their claws deep into them. It's how I got the idea of making them essentially 'haunt' MC. Then, the more I developed that, the more it just made sense for them to be an LI to me. The reason they're the only gender selectable one is because they're the one most reflective of MC (and the one who would change the least regardless of gender). And then that was it! We had five, I was done.

Which leads to Lars, I guess.

He ended up becoming a RO at the last minute, as in, a week before the launch of the blog last minute. He was kind of just this antagonist asshole whose primary job was to make sure you didn't do anything too stupid and who hated your guts. I'm going to be honest, I'm not that big of a fan of the asshole archetype, especially as a romance option. But then I got to chapter 5 in the outline of the story and it objectively just made sense. I can't say why because of spoilers, but I think I've mentioned all the ROs and MC are interconnected with each other and are meant to reflect certain aspects of each other in some way. With Lars, it would have felt off to me not to add him in, considering the type of character he'd grown into. So, with a sense of reluctance, I threw him in.

I think Lars is the funniest RO to me, because there was a point in time where he was the most popular on the blog, and I was like 'woah, him.' asldfakjldfjka. Over the past year, he's definitely grown on me in ways I haven't expected, and I think I almost find his awfulness endearing somehow. (To be honest, I think writing the scene of punching him in the face did wonders for my own perception of him).

As for the story changes, this clearly isn't set in a private boarding school ft teens. The original idea was just Persona 3 Portable all over again, because 13 year old me had a problem (I would proceed to replay the game over a dozen times over the years, so I still have a problem). And while I love the themes in P3P, I also feel like some of the things I wanted to write about just made a lot more sense with people within the college age range. I also decided to tie it in to a long standing world of mine, so that way I already had a solid basis of world building and lore. Placing it in what I dub the 'World of Fairytales' really anchored the story in my brain. I looked at all the other stories I'd written or developed that took place here, and I realized I'd yet to write one about death. And that's the focal point of BA:

It's a fairytale about death.

The Reception

I'm going to be honest, when I released BA I just expected it to get the same reception as anything else I'd written up to this point. I think when the demo dropped back in October 2023, I'd released two games, a game demo, and I think my novella and short story collection were out at the time. I'm terrible at marketing myself because I'd much rather vibe and make things than have to talk about it online, which is definitely part of the reason most of my work didn't even hit five hundred plays, save for one which had hit a thousand at that point. But you know, that does make it easy to keep making things when you don't feel like you have a bunch of eyes watching. (At least, for me. I know a lot of creatives feel the weight of loneliness of creation, especially when you pour so much into something only for no one to pick it up. I personally tend to release things on a whim though lol there's plenty of finished works I have laying around that I have no intention on sharing.)

Anyway, I thought Burning Academia was going to be much the same. So imagine my surprise when I post the intro post and I got eight hundred followers in a week.

My immediate thought was "I'm deleting the blog." After a year of making things no one paid attention to, eight hundred followers in a week for something was an overwhelming jump. At the time I'm writing this, we have apparently just crossed two thousand followers(???), which again, I was not expecting lol

I've been reading IFs for years now, dating back to about 2015. I was aware of the general community and vibes, although I wasn't fully in the community and just followed authors I liked. Still, I didn't realize how quick word gets around for a new IF. Especially when all I had was an intro post. Granted, I'd at least already had most of the prologue written and just needed to figure out Twine to code it in, so there was a sense of relief there that I wouldn't keep people waiting. But I did genuinely want to close up shop as quickly as I started.

Part of me is still a bit surprised I'm at where I'm at. I don't really care about numbers, be it mine or others, but I think at this point I'm closer to a mid sized author(?), which I can't comprehend. BA is more of a vibes story, with heavy themes that aren't for everyone. I also know there are certain aspects of BA that just aren't appealing to the overall IF community (it not really focusing much on romance, or the RO options being what they are, or just how bleak the first few chapters are).

I don't necessarily think it's like a niche idea, since it's just a fantasy dark academia, but I just assumed some of the details would make BA not noticed.

Anyway, clearly I'm normal about it now and my blog still exists. I do think if I knew where I'd land at, I might have waited longer to post everything, so I had a bit of backlog and more for people to play in the long run and it would have felt like a shorter wait on the player side. But also, in my defense, I did not expect 2024 to go the way it did.

What I wanted to achieve vs what I actually achieved

So, I wanted to have chapter 3 done before the end of 2024, and maybe even have chapter 4 started. It was a perfectly reasonable goal for me, in any other year where my body was better at being a body. I won't go into detail with health since I know it's a heavy topic for some, but I will briefly mention it since it was a major component to my creative output. Just skip the next paragraph if you don't feel like reading.

//

I got sick pretty much every month in 2024, with multiple of them being pretty bad infections. The second half of the year was a lot worse than the first half of the year, and that's why if it seems like everything slowed down after June/July, it's because of that. From November to now, I've been sick to varying degrees. It's why I did nothing in December because I spent it split between working still, the holidays, renewing various certifications for work, and trying to get some degree of rest between it all. My sister in law is a nurse, and she said I probably have an auto immune deficiency. Whether it's that or not, I'm going to get some tests done, and hopefully 2025 is a better year for me health wise!

//

Of course, I'm not upset with myself. Perhaps a little annoyed because I could have hit the goal I wanted if I hadn't been feeling awful for so much of the year, but I'm not annoyed with myself. Just the circumstances. I'll always be the type of person to take care of myself instead of forcing myself to do anything. Especially with something like this, which would just last to potential burn out.

So, I released 2 chapters of BA, a handful of the RO backstories, and a little short about MC's sister Marlowe. Including the unreleased chapter 3, I managed to write over 150k last year for BA. Which is a pretty solid number, honestly.

Depending on how life goes, I'll be aiming for up to chapter 4 this year. It'll also be a shorter(?) chapter than 3, or at least a little more manageable since chapter 3 just ended up having a decent chunk of branching. I won't give any estimates for chapter 3 since when I did, I missed all of them LMAO It'll release when it's ready, and I'll be chipping away at it during the times I feel alright.

Final Thoughts

This is already pretty long, so I'll bring it to a close here. If you read this far, thank you for listening to my yapping. And also just thank you to anyone whose played BA and decided to follow along for the ride!! I love BA a lot, and its both very fun and amazing and weird to see others enjoy it with me. The fact I've gotten so many asks, or fanart (please know if you drew fanart, it has been imprinted in my brain forever and also saved in a little folder on my desktop lol) is still a little surreal. So uh yeah, thanks for being here.

For my last trick, since you made it this far you can have an assortment of mindless doodles I have made of BA in questionable quality because I'm bad at photographing my art LOL

(Some of the few digital art doodles I haven't shown. Ft. mirrored Rooks and an unfinished comic page of Rhea)

The Rook pages

The scribbles ft Beck and Lars

The kinda mirrors ft Beck and Rhea

Aaaand that is all because I hit file limit (sorryyyy to Zoe I think I've already shared all the doodles of them I liked throughout the year sjsjsk)

[atlasscrumpit]

Yandere Bucky Part 2

(got a lot of people wanting a part 2 so why not)

Part 1 here

You sat at the table in front of Bucky as he handed you forms.

"I need you to sign a few things so I can look after everything for you. We'll get married soon, maybe we can just elope. But, don't worry I don't want children so you don't need to worry about that." He said as you stared at him in shock.

"Bucky... I'm not signing any of this." You whispered as he stood up and stood behind you, gently running his hand through your hair. 

“I know this is a lot for you to take in.” He whispered before kneeling beside your chair and taking your hands. 

“It’s going to be okay, it’s just us now and we’ll be happy. I know you’re scared but just let me take care of you.” He whispered as you looked down at him. 

“You’re forcing me against my will. You’re hurting me.” You whispered with tears in your eyes as his grip got tighter on your hands. 

“Maybe because you don’t know what’s good for you, maybe because you’re absolutely fucking useless.” He growled before he stood up and paced, practically seething. 

“Can’t you see I can give you everything! You ungrateful bitch!” He shouted as you flinched and looked at him in fear. 

He kneeled down again and looked at you. 

“You make me very angry…but, I’m not going to hit you because I’m a kind partner. But, if you fucking piss me off one more time, I will not hesitate to torture you until there is nothing but trauma left in your head, understand?” He growled as you began to cry, he reached up and wiped away your tears. 

“I know you’re scared…just tell me you understand, doll.” He said as you looked at him. 

“I understand.” You whispered, making him smile. 

“Good girl, sign the papers now, okay? Then I’ll order in your favourite food.” He said with a kind smile, and if you weren't in this situation you would swear it was just your best friend Bucky and his usual kind smile.

He stood up and placed the pen in your hand before kissing the side of your head.

"I don't want this." You whispered as Bucky reached up and brushed your hair from your face.

"Darling, I'm going to take care of everything. Don't you want that? Baby, I'm sick of threatening you. So, I'll just say. I think you know exactly what will happen if you don't sign it." He whispered in a soft tone still playing with your hair.

You looked away from him and with your shaking hands you signed the documents as Bucky stood above you.

"Good girl, thank you darling." He whispered kissing the top of your head.

"I need to go drop these off, I'll order in your favourite food when I get back. Why don't you go shower or bath and freshen up?" He asked as you nodded and stood up.

He smiled and held your face in his hand.

"I know you're scared, doll. But, I promise it's going to be okay." He whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

"I'll see you soon." He whispered happily before leaving.

He stopped short and looked at you.

"Also, don't try to escape, okay?" He said as you nodded your head and watched him leave.

You stood for a while and thought, you could try to escape but this was the winter soldier.

You groaned and went to the bathroom and began filling up the bath knowing it was worthless to try and escape.

--

Bucky came back as you were getting out of the bath, he held your favourite take out in his hand as you changed into new clothes.

When you saw him you stopped and just stared.

"What is it, doll?" He asked placing the food down.

"I miss my best friend..." You whispered as he walked up to you and held your hands.

"I'm right here." He replied as you began to cry.

"I don't know who you are but you're not my best friend... You're a monster." You whispered as his eyes darkened.

He reached up and wrapped his metal hand around your throat.

"I really, really don't want to hurt you. But, I fucking will if I have to." He growled before throwing you onto the floor.

"Stop this! You've gone fucking insane!" You screamed begore he jumped on you and pinned you down.

"Maybe I fucking have, or maybe I just got sick of not getting what I fucking deserve. You can have nice Bucky who treats you like a queen, or you can have the winter soldier who will beat your skull in. Your fucking choice." He growled, his face close to yours.

"Either way I have to break your leg because everyone believes you broke your leg." He said as your eyes widened.

"Hold still for me, doll."

[sunjaesol]

soljae | teachers!au, fluff, one-sided pining... or is it | prompt: alternate universe

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

KYUNGJEONG INTERNATIONAL HIGH SCHOOL, SEOUL — 7:55 AM

"It's going to be a sunny day with cloudiness in the afternoon. Temperatures will go up to fifteen degrees. And now, the news~"

Sunjae lowered the volume of the radio, the broadcaster becoming a murmur as they rattled off the news that happened during the night.

Drumming his hands against the steering wheel, he peered into the parking lot. She usually arrived at this time. Did she get all the red lights on the way over, maybe? Or was she sick?

A familiar car rolled onto the teacher's parking lot and he perked up. Quickly stepping out, he brushed off the dust and wrinkles from his black coat and straightened his back.

Act cool, Sunjae told himself.

Walking towards the school's gate, he kept his stride even but unhurried. His eyes stared ahead. If he looked back, it would betray his feelings in a single movement.

"Sun-jae-ah, good morning!"

Sunjae sighed, eyes briefly closing in relief, and then he turned around—leisurely, cool, aloof, not at all like he had wanted her to greet him.

"Sol-ah," he nodded, watching her quicken her step to walk with him. A herd of animals thrashed around his stomach. "Good morning."

Im Sol was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in his life. When he first laid eyes on her, he thought he was being pranked. No way the new art history teacher had the face of a model and the smile that could power a city. But a year in, she was still a teacher and she still looked the way she did—beautiful and unattainable.

Worst of all, she was kind. Sunjae was doomed from the start.

She grinned up at him, her cheeks a little flushed and her hair long and wavy down her back. "What's on the agenda today?"

They fell into step. Stuffing his hands in his coat, he balled them up to will some discipline into him. "Anatomy class for the senior class, the first and second years will be doing heptathlon sports." He briefly glanced down at her. "What about you?"

Her grin only widened at his question. "I've finally reached the film studies module with my third years. I'm for sure going to geek out today."

A smile trembled on his lips. "Geek out?"

"Y'know, get super excited. I just hope they don't give me dead stares."

Sunjae couldn't imagine anyone acting bored in Sol's presence. If he were her student, she'd have his full attention; it would give him an excuse to look at her all day.

Not that he was obsessed. He liked her. A lot. But he wasn't obsessed.

Striding onto the quad, they were greeted by groups of students congregating on the grass before class. Sunjae's keen eye noticed some students sent them pointed looks, chuckling and giggling behind their hands. He frowned. Did he have a coffee stain on his front? Did his hair lay askew?

Sol nudged his arm. "By the way, are the printers on your floor broken? Because mine gave up yesterday."

Promptly forgetting about the students, Sunjae offered to print all her documents until the printers on her floor were fixed. Naturally.

The day followed its rituals: He taught his classes. During lunch, he kept the seat beside him in the teacher's lounge reserved for Sol. He taught more classes. When school ended, he went to the teacher's lounge again for some paperwork. He could do it in a classroom, but Sol preferred to do it here. After school, he coached the swim team. After that, he passed by Sol's designated classroom to see if she was still around. She usually wasn't. And then he went home.

When his dad weaseled this information out of him a couple months ago, the older man had called him a pathetic loser and that he needed to start dating ASAP.

However, Sunjae wasn't interested in dating. It never appealed to him much. During his twenties, he genuinely thought something was wrong with him, but then he met Sol and everything made sense. Sunjae believed he had been unconsciously been waiting for her.

He now just... had to make a move. Somehow.

The next day, he received an email on his work computer from Sol.

Could you print these? Thanks! Attached were a heap of PDFs and PowerPoint slides that needed to be printed. Dropping all his work, Sunjae sent the attachments to his printer and grabbed his stapler.

Ten minutes later, he was at her classroom with the documents, neatly stacked and stapled; not a wrinkle in sight. Sunjae knocked on the door and popped his head inside.

Sol was in the midst of teaching, her voice wavering halfway through a sentence when she noticed his figure in the threshold.

"Oh, Mr. Ryu, that's fast!"

He stepped inside, nodding and smiling at the students slumped in their seats, and placed the stack of papers on her desk. "I had some spare time," he responded with an aloof tone.

She smiled up at him. "Thank you. You're a lifesaver."

Sunjae blinked. Lifesaver? Now that was... that was an exaggeration. He just helped her. A dry, curt laugh left his lips, the total opposite of the aloof tone he just assumed. "It's not- that is- it's whatever."

Sol's head tilted, confused, and that was his sign to book it out of the classroom. Giggles from the back of the class reached his ears, but he was already out the door.

Printing papers for Sol became part of the daily routine. Somewhere between first and second period, Sunjae strode into the room with a stack, tried not to crumble under her starkling eyes, and ran out.

In another life, he'd be a suave pop star, or a cunning Olympic athlete, but here, he was just a smitten P.E. teacher.

At the start of week three, Sunjae began to wonder why her printer was still broken. Maintenance usually reacted quickly. When his smartboard malfunctioned last year, it got fixed two days later.

Then again, did he want her printer to work again? Now he had an excuse to be near her every day—if only for just a minute. Those minutes added up, he found, and he noticed he didn't even need to reserve her spot during lunch as the staff knew where Sol would sit.

But then he made a shocking discovery that Thursday afternoon. He was on his way to check if Sol was still around and perhaps had time for some awkward small talk (he was working on it), when Sunjae froze in his steps.

There she was, right outside her classroom. The constant clicking and zooming of a printer spitting out papers. Sol was printing. She was using her own printer.

Before she could spot him, he turned around and sped away. His heart pounded high in his chest. Did it just get fixed, or had it been working for a while? She wasn't making fun of him, was she? That didn't sound like Sol.

The entire sitaution was ridiculous, something that didn't go past him. It was a printer, for fuck's sake. He needed to chill. But the question lingered—why did she not tell him? Pushing open the exit door to the teacher's parking lot, he crossed his arms to protect himself from the slight autumn chill.

The incident forced him to contemplate on the end goal of his feelings and actions. He couldn't continue this forever. He either had to confess or move on, otherwise he'd continue to get hurt by silly stuff like this. Moving on, however, felt impossible. Whenever he felt an ounce of bravado, all it took was Sol looking his way for all that arrogance to crumble and turn to dust at his feet.

These emotions were... a lot, and they refused to surrender.

Sunjae made a decision that evening before bed: he was going to confront Sol about the printer and confess his feelings.

The next day he waited as usual in his car for her to arrive. From the rearview mirror, he watched her yellow bug roll onto the parking lot. He took a steadying breath. Just get it over with, Sunjae. With a shaking hand, he opened the car door and got out. It was a bit misty, a drizzle so fine he didn't need his umbrella.

Sol got out of her car as well, slight surprise and curiosity crossing her face as she spotted him. Sunjae never waited for her, he realised in that moment, he always pretended to be on his way instead. He cringed. Damn, he was a loser.

Hitching her bag over her shoulder, she walked towards him. A tentative smile grew on her lips. "Good morning, Sunjae-ah," she greeted. "Are you... were you waiting on me?"

He nodded and stuffed his hands in his coat to hide his nerves. "Yeah. I need to talk to you."

Her brows raised. "About what?"

"About your printer that works again."

Sol blanched. "Wha- you- I'm-" Sputtering, she shook her head. For the first time, he saw Sol flustered. "It doesn't work. It's still broken."

"I saw you use your printer yesterday," he responded matter-of-fact, as though thrusted into a procedural drama. "I know it works."

Her jaw fell slack before she pressed her lips together again. She let out a nervous giggle. "Alright," she drawled, clearly trying to sound humorous. "You caught me, Sunjae-ah. It works again. Don't take it the wrong way though, I just forgot to tell you. It only recently got fixed."

He took a step closer, tilting his head. "What's recent?"

"Like... um..." She pretended to think. Sunjae couldn't believe he was attracted to this woman with piss-poor acting skills—if anything, it endeared him. "Well..."

"Sol-ah."

She sighed. "It got fixed two weeks ago. I'm sorry."

Two weeks. She only needed his help for one week, but prolonged it two more weeks. "Two?" Sunjae exclaimed, baffled. "Two?!"

The woman cringed. "In my defense, I had a reason."

He blinked, unable to comprehend what she was saying. "What reason? Making sure I got in my 10.000 steps?"

Sol dropped her head in her hands for a moment, groaning, and then raked her fingers through her long hair as she took a breathe. His gaze stayed focused on her, resisting the instinct to follow her hands and imagine his own twisting around her dark tresses.

"My reason is that... I wanted us to get closer," she admitted. Pink tinged her cheeks. "I enjoy your company a lot, Sunjae-ah, and I, um, I figured this would be a natural way for us to spend more time together. But I understand now that it was disingenuous." She looked ashamed and, to his horror, a little hurt. "I'm sorry."

"No!" He blurted, his eyes wide.

Sol took a step back in surprise at his outburst. "No?"

"No," he repeated. "No, don't apologise. Do not apologise. Holy shit."

"Sunjae-ah...?"

Had adrenaline not been racing through him, he would've fallen on his knees to thank whatever deity was up there. He took a step towards her. "I enjoy your company as well, Sol-ah. A lot. A whole lot." His hands formed into fists to keep himself from reaching for her. Out with it. "I have feelings for you."

"You have... feelings for me," she repeated, as if to make sure she was hearing him correctly. He wasn't sure whether she looked like she was going to run away or stay frozen on the spot.

He nodded. "Yes, I do. For a while now." A smile pulled on his cheeks, a bit lopsided. "I was going to tell you today, but you beat me to it."

Sol matched his expression, cautiously so. "Does that mean... we can meet for drinks after work?"

"Yes," he replied instantaneously. "Yes, please."

Her smile widened. "Okay."

"Yeah, okay." Unable to resist any longer, he reached forward and placed a hand on her arm. "I look forward to it."

Averting her gaze, a bit shy, she pushed past him. "L-Let's just clock in."

Sunjae grinned from ear to ear, watching her walk ahead of him. Drinks with Im Sol. A date with Im Sol. Catching up to her, he let his hand brush against hers.

"You're not flirting with other colleagues through printers, right?"

"Sunjae-ah!"

[prudentseer]

May I just say you write some of the best period style fics. This is the original anon btw. Everything about your au is so. I don't even have words actually its so immersive and believable. Coincidentally I was also thinking of an arranged marriage au when I wrote the ask! I have read through the whole thing repeatedly all evening.

I imagine Etho is a recluse, and Joel has to attend the balls and social events alone. So Joel faces many rumours about his marriage , especially considering their wedding was still not too long ago. Until Etho awkwardly asks to accompany Joel one evening. When some people notice Etho and Joel aren't dancing, they talk. Etho hears this and decides to ask joel to dance. As it turns out they're both awful dancers, but they have fun despite it, even if Joel is bewildered about Etho's behaviour lol

Please don't take this as any pressure to write! I'm simply glad to have someone else who loves period aus.

Great minds think alike ;)

In all seriousness I could not have gotten this far without prompting so really I have everyone who's shown so much love for these writing scraps thanks; especially you for coming up with the original idea! I'd say you were my muse but it's more like you are God and I'm just sending my offerings (/j).

This one is a lot more rough around the edges but I really wanted to get back into writing after being sick for a while so here it is! This is the third installment of this "series" but it happens prior to either of them (it's also 1.5k words this time, I'm sorry). Thanks for stopping by!

Joel's family name could be traced back to the start of the empire.

A rich history, beautiful natural landmarks and a sanctuary to those fleeing from war. He had everything he could possibly need and things were well.

Then the gold mines dried up.

Certain dyes–their largest export–fell out of fashion and the biggest drought in recorded history swept through his estate. All of a sudden, his family was close to being destitute.

So he had to get married.

It didn't matter that Joel studied hard to be knowledgeable in anything from politics to arithmetic to language. It didn't matter that Joel was offered a position in the royal guard at age fourteen for his strength and mechanical ability. It didn't matter that Etho hated him from the second he saw him.

Whatever future Joel had was second to his family name. He had a legacy to defend, a reputation to keep and like everything else he had to learn to be okay with it.

So he did what any good husband would do. He listened to the rules of the house and kept his mouth (for the most part) shut. He handled small projects and paperwork, never needing to be asked. He never inquired for anything outside necessities, and accepted gifts handed to him with a smile. He worked in the confines of their deal, no matter how skewed they seemed at times.

A knock at his door draws him out of his thoughts. He jolts upright, scrambling for a pen to look busy.

"Come in!" He shouts, head down as almost catlike quiet footsteps tread into the room. He doesn't need to look up to know who just walked in. "I dropped off the documents detailing the expansion on your desk ea–"

"You're going to the ball tonight right? The one the King's hosting?"

Joel's eyes narrow at the almost nervous tone of Etho's voice. He dips his pen into the inkwell before responding.

"Yes, half past seven, I told you this at dinner."

"I remember." He replied, a small sigh escaping his lips. "What's the dress code?"

Joel's head snaps outwards so fast something might've popped in his neck. Etho looks…well he always looks slightly anxious when he speaks–hunched over on himself ever so slightly to make himself look smaller–but it's the shakiest Joel thinks he's ever seen him.

"Excuse me?!"

"Dress code?" He repeats, staring at the ends of his sleeves. "I'm wondering if my pale blue broach would be allowed–"

"You're coming with me?"

He's still not looking at Joel, choosing instead to wring his hands. "Yes. Can I?"

Etho didn't do social events unless he had to. His estate being so close to the mountains practically trained him and his entire family to be more…independent. Besides, Etho never seemed enthusiastic enough to go so Joel never asked. Sure, it led to ignoring the whispers and the pitiful stares he got just by showing up, giving a tight lipped smile and a half baked excuse whenever someone had the courage to ask why he was attending the ball alone but it worked for the most part.

So what was going on?

"Is there someone you want to meet there?" Joel asks, going through a list of attendees in his head.

"No?" Etho replied, head tilted like Joel was the one who said something absurd.

"I–but you–" Joel stops himself. "There's no dress code but why–"

"I'll see you later then."

And like that Etho's scrambling out the door like there's a fire in the room and Joel can only sit there and hope that the day he'll finally understand Etho will come soon.

------

It's a bad idea.

Everything about tonight was a bad idea. Etho can't recall the last time he went to any social event of this caliber let alone with a partner. He...pitied Joel, or at least something close to that emotion because he had felt good when he had initially asked to attend with him but now it felt much more real.

It still didn't feel real as he dressed himself that evening, fumbling with the neckline of his tie. It still didn't feel real the entire carriage ride over, staring out the window as Joel gave him the same puzzled expression every time they made eye contact. But it does feel real as he stands right in front of the ballroom doors, heavy mahogany muffling the soft orchestra music and distant chatter.

Joel wordlessly turns Etho to face him. Before Etho can ask why, Joel's fingers find the broach Etho pinned on himself earlier, adjusting it so it's straight. There's an almost stoic look on his face, concentrated like this ball is only a means to an end, a goal to reach rather than a fun event. Etho sees himself in Joel's eyes and that brings a surprising amount of comfort to him.

"Ready?" He asks when he finishes, holding out his arm for Etho to take.

He latches on without hesitation. "Yes."

The lights nearly blind him, music swelling and chatter all extremely overwhelming. He digs his fingers into Joel who thankfully doesn't react, every other muscle in his body seized up as he forces one foot in front of the other. People stop. People stare. A lot of people stare, pulling at the sleeves of others and whispering; hands blocking mouths and judgement clear in their eyes.

"I'm going to speak with some friends, will you be okay alone for a bit?"

No. Don't leave me alone.

"Is there somewhere I can get something to drink?" He asks instead, already feeling his throat dry up.

Joel smiles, a weak thing. "Refreshment table is on the far left, help yourself."

The eyes on him make him tense the entire way there, barely breathing and looking through everyone as he makes his way to the refreshments table. Bite sized foods, fancy plates and champagne. He has no appetite but he takes a flute of champagne, clenching onto the glass and bringing it to his lips with a shaky hand as he tries to force himself to relax.

He watches Joel who looks almost natural in this scene. Flowing around into different groups like an intricate dance, laughter and smiles following him wherever he went. People call out to him and vye for his attention, they greet him kindly and pull him into conversations. Open and warm while Etho remains comfortably invisible in the shadows.

"He came with his husband today."

Etho's ears perk up at the nearby conversation two ladies in loud dresses are having nearby, colourful fans covering their faces.

"I'm surprised the husband is real, honestly." The second woman laughs hautly, back still turned to Etho. "Did you see them split the moment they walked in? Not a single dance together."

"If it took seven months to convince my husband to come out to a ball with me after marriage, I would be embarrassed to be seen with him too."

Etho places the flute back on the table behind him. "Excuse me ladies."

They both have the decency to appear embarrassed as Etho makes his way to Joel who's chatting to a man with orange hair. Both of their eyes go wide when they notice him.

"Etho?"

"Can we dance?" He turns to the other man who fortunately doesn't seem too bothered. "Sorry, did you want to dance with him fi–"

"No! You two go ahead!"

He realized later in hindsight that he should've asked for a name or displayed any sort of good manners to the mystery man but instead Etho simply held out his hand for Joel before walking them both to the dance floor.

Joel fills the silence as the move.

"Something wrong?" Joel whispers, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.

"People were talking." He mumbles back.

"People always talk, you don't have–"

"You'll have to take the lead." Etho interrupts as they reach the center of the dance floor, grabbing Joel's waist with his free hand. "I don't know how to dance."

Joel chuckles. "I don't either."

"How? You come to so many of these?"

"I fake it." Joel shrugs, stepping forward and almost onto Etho's foot. "Usually the other person is good enough to lead."

They sway back and forth awkwardly for a few seconds, narrowly avoiding bumping into each other several times. It's painful, embarrassing and he can't imagine it's pretty to look at either with how many eyes he feels on him.

"We're off beat aren't we?" He murmurs, eyes down at their feet and face flush under his mask.

"Not even close."

"Should we stop?"

"Nah." Joel replies, Etho looking up to see him biting back a smile. "Let's give everyone something more interesting to talk about."

Without warning, Joel spins him almost violently, barely catching him from falling with two hands before dragging him back up and flush against his body.

"Joel!"

He should be furious but when he opens his mouth to argue the only thing that bubbles up is laughter. Joel laughs too, so bright and loud and uncontrollable they both look like mad men. Stomping around on the dance floor and almost backing into people; Etho's lightheaded from how much he laughs.

"Spin me next!" Joel exclaims breathlessly, stumbling forward and almost falling into Etho.

"Hold on!"

Joel was right, they'll be the talk of the party.

But Etho can't bring himself to care.