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ramshackle's new prefect has a secret. she's a girl. and nobody can know. so of course, somebody is going to know eventually.
fem! reader, vil, and rook
“You… want them to stay in Ramshackle dorm?”
Nobody present seemed particularly pleased by the news.
Jamil was the first to speak of his grievances with the idea, “Headmage, why would we need to stay together at a training camp when it's already on campus? We all have our own dorms.” His words made sense but you had the sneaking suspicion that he wanted nothing to do with you and Grim after the winter break fiasco. From his spot on your shoulder, you could hear Grim grumble in annoyance as he glared at him. It was obvious he had no interest in sharing his space with the Scarabia vice housewarden either.
The headmage, ever confident in his own intelligence, simply gave Jamil a practiced smile, his painted lips curling around pearly whites, “Why, judging by the mood of the room, I can tell that there’s no camaraderie lost between the lot of you!” He let out a chortle, his feathers nearly puffing, “Hosting it in Ramshackle is simply the smartest choice! I considered Pomefiore as an option, but I feared that would make some members feel more out of their element than others.” He masked gaze turned towards you and his smile seemed to stretch even wider, “At Ramshackle Dorm, however…”
All eyes slowly turned towards you.
You were flustered. How could that stupid raven put you on the spot like this! “We do have a lot of empty rooms…” You reluctantly agreed with a shallow nod of your head, “but…”
Deuce was equally as flustered but he was quick to back you up, “Th-this is still really sudden… I’m sure they would feel weird having to host all of us, right?” He gave you a shaky smile and you were quick to return it.
Ace was quick to the draw as well, “Yeaaah,” he dragged out his words, hands returning to his pockets, “I'm suddenly getting a powerful urge to drop out.”
Kalim on the other hand, unable or maybe even unwilling to read the room, seemed eager at the idea, a wide smile forming on his face, “I think a mixed dorm training camp sounds like a blast!” To prove his excitement, Kalim pulled on your shoulder and wrapped you up in a firm side hug, his side pressing firmly against your own. You felt your body freeze as his fingers gripped your thin sweater. You let out a strangled wheeze. Too close! Too close! He was way too close!
Grim was much more focused on the idea of being forced to share his space with a bunch of strangers, “Hold your horses, Crowley!” He huffed, a puff of smoke leaving his gritted teeth, “If we ain't in the ensemble, why should we contribute to this at all?” He folded his arms against his chest, “I don't want anything to do with it!”
“Should our team win first place, Rook and I will donate our shares of the prize to Ramshackle Dorm.” All eyes turned towards Vil but his gaze was low, focused more on his nails than on the crowd before him, “It is a pittance to me—hardly worth the time it would take to enter it into my ledger.”
Rook agreed with a bobbing of his head, “It's only fitting to provide proper compensation to those contributing to Vil's cause!”
Your eyes widened. Wait. You looked down at your hands and counted, fingers shaking. Grim followed, counting on his paws with a speed you wouldn't expect from him. Your voice was thick with nerves as you quietly tried to confirm, “Wait, if the prize money is split seven ways and we get two, that's—” you gulped, “that’s 14,200 thaumarks…”
Grim stiffened before practically leaping with joy, “That... That could buy me way more than four thousand cans of tuna! Ah, but…” He glanced down at you, and lowered himself down to a whisper, “What’s your take on this?” Grim’s paw dug into your worn cardigan, the weight familiar and calming.
Even if Grim was excited at the opportunity, he was still worried about you and your secret… How kind. You reached up and slid his paw into your hand and gave it a firm squeeze before turning towards the Pomefiore housewarden with a determined smile, “Alright. We’ll do it.”
This is Hell.
Not only did you have to share your living space with seven stressed out and emotional teenage boys, but hiding the truth behind your gender just got even more difficult. Washing your clothes became near impossible because whenever Vil rounded up the boys for practice, you were dragged alongside them as their forcibly appointed manager. At least you didn’t have to participate, you don’t think your poorly bound chest would allow you to.
“You're completely off-base, Spudling Two.”
Deuce turned and looked around before pointing at himself, “Is Spudling Two...me?”
Vil clicked his tongue, a hand pressed against his cheek, “Who else could I be talking about?”
You watched from the sidelines with the remote to the stereo in your hand and tried to keep yourself from spacing out. You had a sudden and new appreciation for all those idol groups that were popular back in your world. You couldn’t imagine their routine was much different then this with how hard Vil was pushing. Taking a sip of your water bottle, you could feel yourself sag. They’ve been at this for nearly two hours. Silently, you wondered if the 14,200 thaumarks was even worth it anymore.
“I don't...want to do these.”
This was the first time you had heard the violet haired boy speak up since this all started and you could feel yourself leaning closer. Vil had turned as well but where you had looked on in curiosity, the housewarden had a much different look on his face.
Epel’s tone might have been quiet and demure but you could tell by the rough way he was pulling at the hem of his shirt that he was furious, maybe even embarrassed. His nails were digging into the fabric and you could almost see him trembling in barely contained rage, “I’m a boy… all these girly twisting motions… I don’t want to do them.”
The room went silent, the only sound being that of your water bottle choosing the awkward time to crinkle and crack.
“I'm sorry,” The tone in which Vil spoke was so icy you nearly felt like you needed to fall on your knees and beg for forgiveness yourself, “what was that?”
You might not have known Vil for very long but you could plainly see from the way he was glaring at his prized freshman like an angry mother that his choice of words had struck a very fine nerve. Everyone watched with bated breath as Vil reached over and firmly tugged on Epel’s ear, pulling him closer “Are you seriously gendering MOVEMENTS?”
Epel reached up and quickly covered his ear, his eyes flashing in rebellion, “I’m a man! I don't wanna move all girly like!”
Ah, so he was one of those guys, huh?
Vil was quick to shut him down with a firm voice, hands on his hips and a tight frown, “When it comes to attire and dance moves, there is no such thing as "for boys" or "for girls.” Gender is not black or white. You do not suddenly become less of a man for being able to take care of yourself and a girl is no less of a woman for choosing to dress masculine if she so desires to do so.”
“But I—” Epel gritted his teeth.
“The whole idea of boys being ashamed of doing effeminate dance moves is so last century.” Vil refused to argue with the boy, instead he let out a sigh and… did he lock eyes with you??? You suddenly felt a little too seen as you ducked back to your seat, ears red. You knew he was just trying to take Epel down a peg but his last words bothered you. Sure, it could’ve been a generic statement, girls could wear whatever they wanted just like he said, but the way he almost immediately started to study you made your skin prick. Your chest tightened, your ribs straining under the tape. You held back a wince while you tried to make yourself comfortable with the growing pressure. It’d be fine. Just a few more hours after the school day and you can rip this duct tape off your chest.
You were startled out of your thoughts by a gloved hand gently grasping your shoulder.
“Mon cher Trickster, do you mind starting the music once more?” Rook’s eyes narrowed with his smile. There was nothing unfriendly about his attention but it still made your heart leap into your throat. Where did he even come up with that nickname anyways? Quietly, you apologized and started the music over. As the boys got into their positions, you kept needing to readjust yourself while you sat. Maybe if you… would shallow breaths help? You tried to subtly tug at your shirt but the movement just made your ribs hurt even more. It was getting harder to breathe. You needed to take this off. Guess those internet forms were right about binding your chest with stolen duct tape.
With shaking legs, you tried to drag yourself to your feet but the pain pushed back even harder. You couldn’t bite back the squeak of surprise you let out as you clutched at your shirt, fingers already trying to reach for the buttons.
“I can’t – breathe…”
You could see nothing as it all faded to black.
A soft and tender voice woke you up from your dreamless sleep.
“Mon cher Trickster, pardonne moi for this ghastly invasion of your privacy, but I must remove this tape from your chest so you can breathe. I swear on my life, I shan’t look.”
The only thing your body could register was the cold touch of metal against your abdomen and then... snip, snip, snip.
You fell back in to oblivion.
When you had awoken, you found you were able to breathe again. Your chest eagerly swelled with air, your ribs freely expanding. The tape that you had used to substitute to bind your chest had been cut and peeled away and your school shirt had been carefully re-buttoned to cover the exposed skin. You were so tired and grateful you couldn’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed.
“I am ever so pleased that you seem to be in good spirits, mon cher Trickster!” Rook spoke softly from his spot by your bedside, a hand to his chest in apparent relief, “You really gave us all quite the scare.”
You spied the scissors on your bedside table. He must’ve been the one who did all of this.
Rook, noticing your stare, only offered a smile, “As I said before and I must say it again now that you are fully awake, I am deeply sorry for the invasion of your privacy but it had to be done.”
“Did anyone else see?” Was the only question you could find yourself asking.
Rook shook his head, “As soon as I deduced the cause of your fainting spell, Vil and I were quick to shoo off the others. You gave Monsieur Heart and Spade quite the scare when you collapsed and neither seemed very pleased when I ran off with you!” He quirked his head, “I am assuming they know, no?”
You folded your hands in your lap and sighed. So even Vil was aware now. You nodded.
“I see,” Rook took this moment to move, placing himself at your side on the bed, “I hope you learn from this experience, Trickster. You could have easily caused permanent damage to your body the way you were binding.”
“One must care for the body they were given, as it is the only one you will ever have.”
“I didn’t… I didn’t want to hurt myself, Rook.” Your fingers absent mindedly pressed against your ribs, “I just… I had no other option.”
Rook nodded along with your words but to your surprise, he reached towards you and took your hands in his own. You could feel the heat of his palms through the leather material of his gloves. He was quiet for a moment, simply weighing your hands in his, before squeezing them and smiling.
You both were interrupted by a sharp knock on your door.
“Are they decent?” The muffled voice of Vil came through.
“Ah, yes!” You unintentionally straightened yourself up in bed, “You can come in.”
Vil was silent as he closed the door behind him, “You gave us quite the scare, you know. We had to cancel a day’s worth of practice because of you.” You can tell that while he is annoyed, there’s no real bite to his words. “The boys are not going to be happy when I make them work twice as hard tomorrow so many sure you give them a proper apology.”
As he made his way over to you and stood at your bedside, his eyes lowered to your abdomen and ribs, “I’m assuming the salve I had Rook apply to your wounds is helping?”
Oh! You felt along your sides. He was right, there was no pain! Leave it to Vil to be able to concoct a salve for broken skin and burns like it was nothing.
“While I was busy wrangling the boys, I had Rook be the one that nursed you back to health. You were a horrible sight, by the way. The tape had to be carefully removed otherwise it would have pulled your skin raw, potentially even scarring it. You should be very grateful we were the ones who caught you when this happened.”
Vil sighed and tutted, his arms crossed close to his chest. Even if he tried to play it off, you could tell that your actions had really bothered him. “I care very little how you identify yourself, as everyone enrolled here has a reason to be, but if one is working towards their ideal image, I cannot help but offer my assistance… even if I have to drag them kicking and screaming.” You could sense the subtle jab there about a certain apple but you chose not to comment.
Rook smiles and pressed a hand against his chest, his eyes closed in apparent bliss, “What I believe Roi du Poison is trying to say is that, regardless of your status, be you a girl, a boy, or neither, we are all chosen Night Raven College students and we in Pomefiore seek to perfect and appreciate beauty in all of its forms! And if someone outside our dorm is stuck in a situation where they cannot perfect themselves, then it is our responsibility, no– our duty! To help!”
Vil gave him a look but made no effort to disagree. It seemed that despite the rough start, you've made two new powerful allies in protecting your secret.
"So, what," You looked up at the both of them, "You're not going to tell Crowley about this, right?"
This seemed to surprise Rook but Vil simply rolled his eyes, "Of course the Headmage wouldn't know, I can't imagine he would've willingly had offered Ramshackle to me if he knew."
His second in command looked thoughtful for a moment, a finger to his lips, "Mon cher Trickster did indeed have a truly unorthodox arrival!"
"The Carriage must've chosen me for a reason though, right?" You pressed, your fingers digging and wrapping around the blanket covering your lap, "I know that this is an all boys school but I don't want to believe me being here was an accident." You've experienced too much for this all to be some sort of coincidence. There is no way the Carriage simply sent you here by accident, it hadn't done so in the nearly 500 years it's been around and surely the Mirror would have outed you the moment it said you were colorless. Your nails dug in to your palms. You didn't want this to be some sort of fluke.
From his spot beside you, Rook reached over and patted your hand, startling you enough for you to flex your fingers. Your nails left behind tiny crescents carved in to your skin.
"If mon cher Trickster wishes to stay here, regardless of the dangers, then I believe it is only right that we offer our assistance!" He looked up at Vil and grinned, "What say you, my Queen?"
"Rest first," Vil directed, "and once the VDC is completed, we can discuss this further."
"But what about my..." your fingers pressed against your chest.
"I will take care of that. I will supply you with a proper way to bind come morning but until then," Vil gave you a look so icy it made you lie down and tuck yourself back in to bed.
"I will not move from this spot." You silently crossed your heart, not willing to get on Vil's bad side after the heart to heart you three just had.
"Good. Rest."
"Au revoir, mon cher Trickster! See you in the morning!"
But when they closed the door, you got a strange tickle in the back of your brain. Wait, trickster? He's called you that for as long as you could remember, even early on when you had only had a few interactions with him outside the classroom. Did... did Rook know this entire time?????
But it was too late even if Silver had snatched the prefect's phone away.
Ramshackle's prefect giggled in delight, watching the stoic facade Silver held shatter in mere seconds. They adored seeing this flustered version of him as it was rare as Malleus Draconia beaming in delight.
The boy turned bright red as he watched the likes on the prefect's phone rapidly increase. His eyes widened when Malleus himself had liked and added it to his story - and of course Lilia. Not surprising.
Silver let out a disappointed sigh, staring down at the prefect who was too busy lounging, admiring the picture instead of him.
"Tch."
change of plans....
He raised his eyebrow, staring down at the prefect with a cheeky smirk. Using his long legs, Silver slowly approached them like a predator eyeing their prey.
"So prefect....what will your punishment be?" Silver whispered, leaning close towards the prefect's ear, voice deep and husky as they liked it.
"Remove the post or no visits at my dorm and kisses for a month?"
