(this shot isn't as interesting as it sounds

just like the book

LMAO ROASTED NO NO I'M JUST KIDDING THE BOOK IS AWESOME

I actually finished the book today. To be honest, I guessed who Jack The Ripper was already (because I got a hint) but still hhhh. It's kinda not obvious. But hmm. I say I recommend this book, it's pretty bomb

I'VE SCREAMED OVER THIS BOOK MORE TIMES THAN I HAVEN'T SMH

So this one shot is going to be like the book

Based off of the book

book

Time: 1800s)

You walk the dry streets of London, your gloved hands clenching your skirt in fear. In front of you is a boy you have grown close to over the weeks. The boy is a student in love with biology, taking your uncle's classes. Your uncle's best student; Maven Calore, walks you down the street. The collar of his button up moves with the wind under his tailcoat, that being the thing drawing your eye to him. You are happy there are no ladies around, his devilish handsome features gather the attention of everybody. If your father knew you were hanging out with him, nonetheless in London at night, he would lock you in your room until you died.

"Does he near?" You ask quietly, still moving behind Maven. Your footsteps are much louder than his. You have just moved away from your aunt's tea party, and the pink pastel shoes aren't going to look to fancy being stained with the mud of London's stone roads. Maven doesn't answer immediately, rather, he lifts his hand up. You both stop walking as he pears down an alleyway. You can see the Scotland Yard moving in and out of the alley, investigating something Maven was blocking from you.

"Another victim," he informs. Like a switch, his emotions are off and his face is stone. He sees Uncle and waits for him to give his word. You cannot even step close to the crime. Being a female is something that holds you down. Only Maven and your uncle see past your gender. 

Once Uncle rounds the corner, he looks at you two. He tells you it's another murder from The Leather Apron. The girl's throat is slashed and her intestines are flung over her shoulder. Typical. Uncle bites the buttons lose from his gloves, rubbing his palms as he explains. Maven listens, his eyes glazing over as he gets indulged in his thoughts.

"(Y/N) (L/N)," you hear a familiar voice use your Christian name. You flinch, turning around. You look at your father as he begins stomping closer to you. He grabs your wrist, looking agitated. He doesn't even acknowledge his brother as he drags you away. You look at Maven in embarrassment as he tips his hat to you. Just like that, Uncle continues talking, like all of this was expected. Father has a fancy reputation, being a rich man and all. And if somebody sees his daughter hanging around a crime scene, you both would be in the mud.

The carriage ride home is horrible. It's silent. You would much rather have to clean up a crime scene than sit here. Your father writes mysterious words into his small notebook, often glancing at you. But all you do is stare out the window, your chin rested on the back of your hands.

Your aunt and cousin are staying in your estate, coming to aid your father in his light illness. Your aunt is the fanciest lady you have ever met, and her daughter is her pride and joy. They are everything your father wants you to be. If your father doesn't murder you this afternoon, it'll be a gift sent directly from God himself, and you'd vow to attend services again.

Your father has told you to stay in the study, to hang out with your cousin until he can sort out what to do. Your cousin wears her pink tea dress, unfavorably glancing you up and down. In her hand, a cup of tea as you refuse to touch your serving.

"Why are you looking at me like that? Did I really do anything wrong?" You ask, almost snapping at her. She places her teacup down on the plate it comes with. She changes her position in the puffy brown chair she sits in, rubbing her hands against the arms of it.

"Weild your assets like a blade, cousin. No man has invented a corset for our brains. Let them think they rule the world. It's a queen who sits on that throne." She says. A blush dusts itself over your cheeks. You know she's right, even in her teasing tone. 

~

"This is odd." You say, holding the human ear in your hand. Maven stands by your side, holding the envelope the ear came out of.

"No, this is completely normal. I mail ears every other day just to seem royal. You should try it sometime," he replies sarcastically. A small smile tugs on your lips. You hate how snarky he can be. You bump his shoulder with yours. He smiles at you, looking down. You stare at his lips for longer than you'd like, and turn away. Uncle is sitting at his desk, reviewing his sketches.

"You should see who's ear this is." Maven suggests as you place it on his desk. He just grunts, rubbing his chin. "I dismiss you two, for now. I need to get my mind straight." He says. You look at Maven, rubbing your hands off on your skirt as you walk towards him. He shrugs, grabbing your hand as he leads you down the stairs to the front door.

"He does that a lot, just give him time." You inform. Your eyes go to the back of his head, his black locks curling against each other unnoticeably. As you two walk outside, your hand is still in his. He looks around, noticing the people walking by on the street. You two can't be seen together. All you do is turn to him and kiss his cheek before rushing into the busy streets of London. He tips his head down to remain unrecognizable before heading off in the opposite direction.