#fictober23

"GIW?"

"Guys in White, or well Ghost Investigation Ward, a government organization." The other teen explained with a shrug. "Usually they are incompetent. Aside from a couple of burns from getting shot, this is the first time they actually managed to chain me in a while. Normally they would have messed up by now but it's interesting that they even manage to nap you too."

Now Tim raised an eyebrow. That was news to him. To think there was a governmental organization that was actively abducting civilians for who knows what. Damn, he could see how B would not be happy once he told them about that.

"Sorry btw." Tim blinked up at the other teen in confusion, who chuckled in return. "They probably kidnapped you thinking you were my double or something. We look similar enough for them to think that."

"Wait…" Tim's eyes widened in realization. "They kidnapped me because I look like you? Not the other way around?"

"Uh yeah, why would I be kidnapped because of you?"

"Tim Drake-Wayne. Does that ring a bell?" Tim huffed only to watch how the other teen furrowed his eyebrows as if deep in thoughts before shrugging.

"In fact no it doesn't. But I don't keep up with high society, it helps pissing of the fruitloop whenever he drags me to 'meet important people' and I actively call them false names no matter how often he introduces them."

Tim's eye twitched. While that is fun, this was also the first time he met someone who hadn't heard of his name before in some way or form. In the end just let out a sigh.

"So what now? We wait to get rescued or will they release us after some time?" Well he had already tipped off his family, so it was probably only a matter of time until one of his siblings burst in to play knight in shining armor. He just hoped it wasn't Jason again, or he wouldn't shut up about having saved him for another month.

"Oh we can wait, but they won't release us. It's probably better if we get out on our own."

"Really? And how do you plan for us to get out of the handcuffs?" Well Tim did have a lock pin hidden in his jacket and some small sized tools stuffed into the sole of his shoes but with his hands chained above his head it was a little difficult to get them. But his feet were not chained so with just a bit of body twisting he could-

"Oh the handcuffs are no problem. They can be easily removed by overloading them."

"Overloading?" Tim arched an eyebrow, now the cuffs did not look like your normal brand he can admit that but how was the other going to do that unless he had some secret electric tool stored on him.

"Yea, overloading. It's pretty simple. These look like the same Brant they tried to cuff me with a year ago. It's funny how they look like they haven't learned a single thing in all these years."

"Really now?" Tim stared at the other teen unimpressed. "Okay, show me. How are you going to overload them with no tools around?"

"Easy." The other teen smirked at him and Tim's eyes widen as he saw the others hands emitting a green light before the cuffs on his wrist sparked and then fell off. Okay, noted the other teen was a Meta.

"My name is Danny by the way." Danny grinned as he rubbed his wrists before getting up and walking over to Tim to do the same to his cuffs. Tim rubbed his his own wirsts, carefully examining them for any time of injury only to look up just in time to watch Danny reach into his own chest. With wide eyes he watched Danny sticking out his tongue while one of his hands was going through his body as if he was looking for something.

"Aha! I knew I stuck them in my body somewhere for a situation like this!" Okay there was so much to unpack from this sentence alone but before Tim could even ask a single question Danny pulled out a lockpick set from his chest and proceeded to pick at their cell door.

"I have so many questions." Tim muttered, still watching the other teen.

"Well I can probably answer some of them once we are out of here. It's the least I can do after you get kidnapped because of me." Danny grinned as the lock he was working on clicked and he swung the door open. "Wanna talk over some coffee? You look like you need some."

"This is definitely not what I expected when I said 'show me'." Tim muttered once more walking passed Danny out of their cell, eager to leave this place.

"Yea well that the more civilian friendly things I can do." Danny followed with a grin. "Though I do have some other tricks I could have used too."

"You talk like a hero." Tim thought aloud, eyeing the teen and how they were holding themselves. Nothing about this teen screamed innocent civilian anymore, well aside from the obvious Meta abilities. He also marbled about the fact that they basically just walked out of the warehouse they had been holding. Huh looked like these GIW guys were really as incompetent as Danny had mentioned earlier.

"You know, lazy days like this are by far my favorite," I mused, curling into my husband's side as we laid in bed together. "No galas, no gossip from the Ton. Just the two of us."

"I certainly have to agree," said Benedict, my husband, as he traced patterns on the bare skin of my back. "Although, I do enjoy watching Colin wade through the swarm of Mamas every time we go out, now that he is the only unwed Bridgerton son. At least until Gregory gets a bit older."

"I'd say you were being mean, but he did ditch you and Anthony for quite a while in his travels."

"Yes, he did. So he deserves this."

I laughed, shaking my head a bit at my husband's antics. A moment later, he pulled me tighter to his side, rolling us so I laid completely on top of his chest. I rose up on my elbows to meet his eyes and found him looking at me with a mischevious smile.

"You know, it's just occurred to me," he started. "There are quite a few ways I can think of that our time would be better spent than talking about my brother."

"Oh really?" I asked, grinning and leaning down closer to Benedict. "And what might those ideas be?"

"Well for starters..."

With that, he brought his hand up to the back of my neck and pulled me into a searing kiss. I rested all my weight on him, kissing right back, until a knock at the door jarred us both out of the moment.

Reluctantly, I pulled away, and Benedict let me. We shared a look.

"Maybe whoever it is will go away if we ignore them," he whispered in suggestion. As if he'd willed it into happening, a voice from the other side of the door called out.

"Y/N! If you're in there, please, I need to talk to you."

Eloise. Benedict's little sister, who I'd become close with throughout the course of Benedict courting me. I gave Benedict an apologetic look.

"No," he whined as I rolled off of him, quickly wrapping a robe around myself and heading for the door.

"I have to," I replied. "I can't ignore her. Make yourself decent."

With that, I turned from my husband and went to open the door just wide enough to see Eloise on the other side, and for her to see me.

"Oh, thank goodness!" she cried, moving to push past me and into the room. I let her, just hoping that Benedict had done as I'd said. Eloise and I had done this a few times as we'd gotten closer, and whenever it happened, I knew she really, truly needed me.

I turned around to follow Eloise back into the room after shutting the door behind me, only to find her frozen just a few steps from where she'd come in. Benedict stood next to the bed, looking tired but resigned to our new morning activity as he laced up his shirt.

"Good morning, Eloise," he said, a little edge of teasing in his tone. "You know, I was trying to enjoy the morning with my wife-"

"Do I look like I knew that?" she cried. I fought back a laugh as I walked forward to wrap my arm around her shoulder.

"It's alright, Eloise," I said. "Benedict and I were about to get up for the morning, anyway."

Benedict shot me a look with his eyebrows almost into his hairline, and I glared right back, imploring him to go along with me. He cleared his throat.

"Right. That we were. What did you need help with, sister?"

She hesitated, so I walked around to face her, putting both of my hands on her shoulders and blocking her eyeline to Benedict. I gave her a small smile, so she'd know everything was alright, then spoke in a low voice that I knew Benedict wouldn't be able to hear.

"If this is a ladies' problem, or one you don't want your brother to know about, El, I'll throw him out of here right now and we can talk, alright? But if you're embarrassed about knocking when you did, then you truly don't need to be. We love you, and we'd both drop far more important things to help you whenever you need it."

Eloise sighed, nodding a little as she did. The bright red blush that had risen to her cheeks started to fade, and she at last met my eyes again.

"Thank you. I... suppose it wouldn't hurt to have Benedict's input as well," she said. I nodded, giving her a bright smile before turning around to face my husband.

"Put your problem-solving hat on, Benedict," I said. I started drifting for the couches by Benedict's turret window, one of my favorite features of his room. "We've got a family matter to deal with."

They both beamed at me as they started following me over to the couch. I'd considered a few of Benedict's siblings as good as family for a long time now, but it felt amazing to be able to say that and have it be completely true.

Benedict and Eloise settled into the couch on either side of me, Benedict resting his arm across my shoulders. Those kinds of casual touches would've been scandalous before we were married, but now we could do them whenever we wanted to, which also made my heart sing.

Eloise gave us both one last look with a raised eyebrow, then launched into her explanation of the problem that had brought her to our doorstep, which had something to do with a boy of virtually no social status who'd caught her attention. Benedict and I spent the rest of the morning, helping her as best we could, in the way only we could.

Although I hated that Eloise had to deal with the problems she dealt with, a small part of me sang the entire morning as Benedict and I worked together, the perfect team, to help his little sister. This was going to be the rest of our lives, with Eloise and maybe someday with children of our own, and I couldn't be happier thinking about that future with Benedict. We made the perfect team.

****************

The day you were born Rhaenrya swore she could hear the gods sing in harmony together. Your cries sounded like heaven to her ears, the little girl who belong to her. Y/n, the first daughter of Rhaenrya Targaryen. “Beautiful,” she brushed the hair and blood off of your forehead and placed a kiss.

“My sweet girl.”

You had stoped crying when you came into contact with her skin and warmth, she was safe and familiar. Rhaenrya had blessed with a boy and she was grateful to have two beautiful children. But her first born had dark hair and fair light skin, you had her features of paler skin and silver hair. Your mother knew she needed to protect you from the darkness of the world and keep you innocent.

Each day you were at the queens side or in your own room. She would take her younger son to see you and get you both comfortable with one another. Jace couldn’t stop smiling and clapping when he saw you, he’s such a good older brother. As the years passed by you grew to need your mother or your brothers, being dependent on her. Where the princess went you weren’t far behind in a small dress and coping her.

But now it was the day she had dreaded for your whole life. You being betrothed to a lord far away and not with her.

“But mother, I need silver.” You huffed as you pressed the dress to your body. A smile on your cheeks as you swing yourself from side to side in the mirror. “Silver will match his clothes.” She cringed at your giggling and delighted to be married off, to leave her behind. A daughter should want to stay with her mother as long as she could, even cry when leaving her mother.

“You are stressing dearest,” her hands stopped your hands and looked at you through the mirror and smiled. “No need not to change for a man, not when you’re already perfection.” Her lips met your cheeks and you laugh at her sweetness and affection. You turned around and took her back into your arms and hugged her close.

“Only because you’re my mother and taught me every I know. I will make you proud, mother. This marriage will help our family with the whispers,” a hushed tone of the mention of rumors spreading around the realm of you and your brothers birth. “Promise.” Her chest loved how you smiled and wanted to help her, her sweet girl.

But it was foolish to think she’d let you go. And that’s why she needed to keep you by her side since you were so naive.

She watched as you laughed with your brothers at the table and ate your favorite meal. How could she let this go? As soon as you lifted your cup to your mouth she was ready for the moment to happen. Daemon by her side keeping a eye on you too as he help with the poison, a maester waiting outside the door. A few seconds later you began to cough and play it off for a few seconds until it became hard for you to breathe.

“Someone help her!” Rhaenrya acted the part of a scared mother and it wasn’t all a lie. Seeing you so panicked and scared, grabbing ahold of her as if it was the last time. Of course she hated it but this was for the best. No one would ever expected the woman who loved her children above all else to poison them. Daemon had a “search” for the person who did it, and a servant was kill for the crime. A innocent life was worthless to them when it came to you.

A few days later you awaken from your rest and saw your mother beside your bed as she hummed. “Mother?” You called out with a horse voice and she jumped up to take you in her arms. The relief spread on her face as she kissed your head repeatedly and whisper prayers to the gods. “I was so worried.” You held onto her but she got a cup and lifts it to your lips. The first thing was to clear your throat and get it back.

Sipping the drink you smile and lean back down, looking at her loving. “Please tell me I wasn’t out to long, Sir Roderick will be saddened at my lack of letters.” It went unnoticed that she gripped the sheets and a quick smirk that she turned into a smile. He will have to find another bride to have because you’re never leaving the castle.

“I’m sure you will recover soon.” The cup was set back down as she smiled at the bottom where a powder was seen. Rhaenrya kept you on a small amount of poison every week to keep you from getting around on your own or to long. Something to make your body weak without her help.

You were no exception; your own evening wear clung delightfully to your body as you strolled around the room. You clutched two glasses of champagne as you peered through the sea of faces: Chase was lounged against a table as he attempted to chat up his newest conquest, Foreman was hiding his laugh behind his hand at Chase’s romantic desperation, and Cameron had already walked back into the crowd with exasperation at her colleagues.

But none of them was who you were looking for.

Somewhere among the crowd of happy poker players was your boyfriend, James Wilson. Any opportunity to play poker with House (and raise money for charity, of course) Wilson would take and so you scanned over the green tables until, eventually, you found him.

James’s brow was furrowed more intensely than during one of his consults as he glared down at his cards. And his brow furrowed further has House leaned over with his trademarked childish grin with some devious attempt to put his friend off. A shout from Lisa Cuddy broke the two apart, her impressive stack of chips more than signifying her eagerness to play. They all looked so charming in their bow ties and dress respectively, James the most so: he was alluring in his fitted tuxedo, entirely at home in suave and sophisticated finery. He’d been looking forward to this night for weeks and you couldn’t wait to spend it with him.

You started walking over to the trio as Dr House looked up at you and nudged Wilson in the side. James’s eyes flitted up to you and he was immediately transfixed. His gaze followed you like a moth to the flame as you walked towards him, as smooth as the swaying jazz in the background. James’s eyes ran up and down your body unabashedly with a small boyish smile to himself. If he could linger in every single inch of your body he would, worshiping the sight like a holy man to his only vice. Slowly, he dragged his eyes back to your beaming smile as your rounded the poker table to his side. You reached down to press a gentle kiss to his cheek and as you pulled away, he followed into your warmth. James’s eyes remained closed for a moment, breathing deeply into your scent. As you greeted him, he replied with a high-pitched, almost pained sigh and a whisper.

“I really hate you.”

You were taken aback for a second. You looked down at your boyfriend with an incredulous smile.

“Oh, love you too, babe,” you replied, sarcastically. James’s brain suddenly kicked out of its daze as he reached up to stroke your hip.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he apologised quickly. “I didn’t mean that. It’s just- you look- you’re absolutely stunning… But I still hate you.” He could be such an enigma sometimes.

“Why? What have I done?”

“You’re being very… distracting,” James’s eyes flicked to your lips for a second. Your head fell back as your let out a laugh.

“You’re usually fine with me being distracting,” you said, faux-innocently, using your height advantage to lean over James as your body pressed into his. Even an untrained eye could see his held breath at the touch of your body against his.

“Yes, I’ve seen you be very distracting through the windows of Wilson’s office,” House teased around the cigar between his lips. Your head whipped around like a flash to meet a wink from House as Wilson coughed and spluttered at his friend.

“What?! I thought the curtains were closed!”

“You did what in Wilson’s office?” Cuddy interrogated with disbelief from across the table as you and your equally-guilty boyfriend blushed a deep crimson.

“Anyway…” you rushed to change the subject from your less-than-professional sex life. But that didn’t have to be the end of your fun. “I got you a drink, James.” You bent forwards to place your second glass of champagne down on the table and unashamedly pressed your chest into James’s face as you leaned in. His eyes closed in a dizzy state of bliss.

“If you don’t stop now-“ James warned, lowly.

“Stop what, baby?” you replied coyly, brushing your fingers through your boyfriend’s coiffed hair just how he liked it.

“Please,” James let out in a whine. Just then, you spotted Cameron waving to you from across the room. Suddenly, you stood up straight, righted your dress and pressed a deep kiss to James’s lips. You ripped a low moan from his chest as you pulled away all too soon.

♰ ⏤ Weekend Two

⇢ Jack's Mirror House : clown!psycho! hoseok x trapeze!artist! fem reader [soon] ; you enter your new job, the pandora circus, but you get stuck inside the mirror house owned by the clown everyone warned you about.

♰ ⏤ Weekend Three

⇢ The Masked Face : bestfriend!ghostface! jimin x fem reader ft. surprise guest![soon] ; you regret sharing your best friend so many tiktok thirst videos of guys wearing the ghostface mask, because now he haunts you during the nights.

You ignore the question, quickly glancing at the still smirking George, before finishing off your exam. You rush from your seat to hand in your booklet to Snape, as you grab your bag and books you hear Ron asking Hermione to the ball. Your heart plummets into your gut, Ron doesn’t really want to go with you, he just wants a date on his arm. 

You can feel the quick glances of pity from all of your friends; Harry, Hermione, Fred, and George. All of them know about your big ol’ crush on the youngest Weasley boy. You high tail it out of the Great Hall just as Hermione starts telling him off and admitting she has a date. Her and Viktor are actually quite cute together. 

You forgo heading to the library or any other place you typically meet your friends- Hermione will surely head straight to those spots and try to get you to talk about your feelings. Instead you head up the many flights of stairs to the Astronomy tower. The fresh air cools your flushed face, and you take a deep breath willing yourself to shake it off. You lean against one of the railings and stare at the black lake as it ripples from the wind. You close your eyes and think back to when you got asked to the ball mere days ago. 

McGonagall is teaching you how to dance for the ball, boys on one side and girls on the other. You can practically hear Fred and George snicker as you repeatedly glance at their younger brother as the professor lectures the group on etiquette. Ron makes a joke and McGonagall calls him to dance with her, this time you do hear the twins snicker and you join them. 

Once everyone joins in, Ron partners off  with a random girl and you're left standing there alone. You and Ron always pair up for everything, you have since you were in diapers. George quickly swoops in and starts dramatically waltzing you around the room. 

“Mr. Weasley!” McGonagall calls, grabbing everyone’s attention and placing it on you two. “Miss. (Y/L/N) is a young lady, not a rag doll, treat her as such.”

You hide your face in George’s chest, partly from embarrassment from all of the eyes, and partly to hide your giggles. 

“Of course, Professor,” George stands taller and he gracefully leads you through the steps. “I wouldn’t want to hurt dear (Y/N) here. Who else would help me prank Ron?”

You refuse to meet George’s eyes after the two of you see the girl in Ron’s arms giggling at something that he’s said. Usually you're the only one to giggle and laugh at Ron’s jokes, the only one affected by his ‘charm’. George elegantally spins you out and then back into his arms, trying to get you to cheer up and get your mind off of Ron. 

“Ow!” Ron’s partner cries.

Smirking, George leans in and whispers in your ear, “Ickle Ronniekins can’t keep his eyes off of you. Even stepped on his partner’s foot ‘cause he can’t look away.” 

“He’s not looking at me George,” you push the older boy away so he can watch you roll your eyes at him. 

“He stares at you constantly, (Y/N/N),” George frowns at your obliviousness. “He’s been in love with you since he met you, you two always understood each other on a different level than the rest of us.”

“If Ron liked me he would have asked me to the ball already, and he wouldn’t be drooling at Fleur’s feet,” your answer is short and snappy. “Can we just focus on dancing again?”

“Go with me,” it comes out more as a request than a question. “Freddie wants to take Angelina and I’m not going to get in the way of that. We can have fun and make Ronniekins jealous.”

“I don’t know about Ron getting jealous, but it would be fun,” you grin at the red head. “I’m sorry about the Angelina thing.”

“So you’ll be my date?” he ignores the second half of your statement, not wanting to dwell on his twin taking his crush to the ball. 

“I guess,” you tease, your giant smile giving away your excitement. 

“Wicked!” he cheers.

~~

“Who do you think is taking (Y/N)?” Ron asks George, not bothering to lower his voice, even though Padma is standing beside him. Ron had been openly staring at you since you admitted that you have a date, and he kept asking who, but you never answered because you agreed with George not to tell anyone.

“Ickle Ronniekins, you should have asked her sooner,” George teases with a smirk. Both your date’s and your crush’s jaws drop slightly as you make your way down the stairs. 

Your hair is pulled back in an updo, you and Hermione did each other's hair and makeup this morning. You're in a flowy silver dress, giving you an angelic appearance. Your mother even sent her best jewelry to finish off the look. 

“Whoa, (Y/N/N)?” Ron asks, eyes wide and jaw practically on the floor. Padma rolls her eyes at Ron, clearly regretting being his date already. “You look-whoa.”

“You look quite handsome yourself Ron,” you giggle lightly as you take in his old colorful dress robes. Most people would laugh at how ridiculous they look, but Ron can somehow pull the look off.  

“You look smashing, Miss. (Y/L/N),” you giggle again as George grabs your hand and places a kiss on it. 

“Oh thank you Mr. Weasley, you look,” you let your eyes drag over George in his black dress robes as you come up with a compliment. “Striking.” 

“Shall we love?” George puts his arm out to lead you into the Great Hall that the teachers transformed into a beautiful ballroom for the night. You catch a quick peek at Ron as you slip your hand into the crook of his brother's arm, and the young boy looks livid. His face is almost as red as his hair, his jaw locked, and a glare that could level even George if the older Weasley saw it. 

You can feel eyes watching your every move, but you elect to ignore it, instead focusing on George as he twirls you from song to song. No matter how disappointed you both may be that neither of you got to go with your crush, you don’t let it affect your spirits, instead both of you push those thoughts to the back of your minds and have fun as friends. 

“I could use a drink,” you holler to George after two hours on the dance floor and he leads you to the table Ron and Harry are sitting at.

“Stay here,” he takes his coat off and drapes it on the seat you plop down in. “I’ll go get us some punch.”

“Why aren’t you guys out there dancing?” you turn to Ron and Harry, then glancing at the dance floor where Padma and Parvati are dancing with some boys from Beauxbatons.

“Cho is with Cedric,” Harry grumbles, while Ron just glares behind your back.

“One punch for you my lady,” George does a stupid bow as he hands you your glass.

“Why thank you kind sir,” your giggle is cut off by an irritated scoff coming from Ron.

“Is there something you’d like to say Ickle Ronniekins?” George goads him.

“What's wrong Ron?” you ask at the same time, reaching out to touch his shoulder. 

“Bloody hell, you’re what's wrong,” Ron exclaims, and you're thankful the Twisted Sisters are too loud for anyone further than your table to have heard him. 

“Don’t talk to her like that,” George defends you, but it only seems to make it worse.

“What did I do wrong, Ron?” you fiddle with the bracelet that your mum sent you. 

“Come with me, hurry,” Ron pulls you out of the ballroom, up two flights of stairs, down a hallway, and into an alcove hidden by drapery. 

“What has gotten into you?” you finally ask when you two are hidden from prying eyes and ears. 

“How could you go with George?” he ignores your question, pacing back and forth in front of you.

“Because he asked me? Because he was the only one to ask me,” your voice cracks ever so slightly.

“I asked you,” you level your oldest friend with a glare.

“Out of desperation! You asked me as a last resort, Ron, not because you actually wanted to go with me! George at least asked me to go as friends,” angry tears are fighting to breach the surface. “You were too interested in trying to get Fleur to go with you to even consider asking me until you had no other choice.”

“I didn’t think you’d have a date,” he pitters off, not knowing how to save himself.

“Godrick Ron, can you even hear yourself? Do you think that low of me that no one would ask me?”

“But why George of all people?” he asks again, sounding like a broken record. 

“Is that it? Am I not good enough for your brother in your eyes?” you laugh humorlessly. “All those years of friendship and you truly think so low of me…” 

“He knows you’re off limits!” he says out loud, but by the look on his face he clearly meant to keep that thought on the inside.

“I’m not one of your chess pieces, Ron, I’m a person with feelings. You can’t just stake a claim on me-” he cuts off your rant.

“He knows I love you!” his words have so much conviction behind them that you're momentarily stunned. 

“What?” your moth is gaping open like a fish.

“I love you,” he says again like it isn’t the most heavy and meaningful thing he could possibly say. “I don’t ask you to the Ball sooner because I didn’t want you to reject me.”

“You love me?” you can’t seem to wrap your head around the fact that he feels the same.

“Bloody Hell (Y/N), how many times to I have to say it? I love y-” he’s cut off by your lips desperately colliding with his.

“I love you too,” you sigh, resting your forehead on Ron’s. “George only asked me to make you jealous.”

“I’m going to beat him with his bludger,” Ron steps back ready to go fight his brother.