#the midwife's apprentice | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mrsparrasblog · 17 days

Text

Makarov x Price daughter pt.4

This chapter is just to explain what Price did in the whole year since his daughter is gone. Its different then the other ones I still hope you like it. I'll try to set myself a goal to publish the next chapter tomorrow.

Previous Part. next part

Four months he was away from his home, from his wife Tina, and you. God, he missed you and couldn’t wait to see you again. He planned the whole month how he would apologize to you for saying you were a disappointment. Of course, you weren't a disappointment; he just didn't know how to show it to you. You weren't his little girl anymore, so grown and independent. Tina needed him more than you, or at least he thought so. Tina was a spitfire, always getting in danger, disrespecting teachers, while you were a perfectly behaved little girl. Never once in his life occurred the thought that you could do anything wrong. So he neglected you, and he knew that was a mistake now.

During this time off, he would give you all the attention you needed and finally be the dad you deserved. If only you'd accept his apology. He finally arrived in Cardiff, his clothes still dirty from the long flight, his beard overgrown, and he looked a bit like a Neanderthal, but this time he couldn't wait. He rang the bell, Tina and his wife already running into his arms.

"Where is she?" he asked curiously, eager to find out where you were. You mostly took the day off when he came back from deployment. Maybe you couldn’t or did overtime again because a birth took longer than planned.

"Dunno," his wife said bluntly, not mentioning the fact that you hadn’t been home for three months. She saw you making out with an older guy again the day you went "missing". In her mind, you were a spoiled brat who didn't appreciate everything she gave you. She wasn’t your mother and still tolerated you. Shouldn’t you be grateful for that?

After 10 hours at home, your dad grew anxious. He always had a great gut feeling, and something felt off, so he needed to investigate this situation, making sure you were okay. You were his little girl, after all. Telling his wife a white lie, he went to the hospital where you worked.

The delivery station looked weird to him. Everyone was smiling brightly, as if there wasn’t any pain or war in the world. The midwives walked around in pink scrubs, and everywhere were damn cupcakes. It was the first time he visited you at work, and he felt guilty about how he reacted the day you told him you wanted to become a midwife. He should have been proud of you.

After looking around and not finding you, he asked one of the midwives, explaining that he was your dad and had returned from deployment. He got more confused when the midwife told him to sit down and your supervisor came out, taking him into her office.

"Look, your daughter was our best midwife apprentice, but she hasn’t been at work for the last three months without any notice," she explained.

"What do you mean three months? She loves her work," he said.

"We know that. If she ever gets out of her phase, she can come back to work. But for now, could you please gather her stuff from the locker?"

"Phase? What phase?"

"Her stepmom told us she had psychological issues, Mr. Price."

He never heard of it. Why didn’t his wife tell him before? He would have tried to be there for you. The midwife guided him to your locker, opening it for him so he could take your stuff out. His lips curved into a smile when he saw the pictures in the locker: one of your best friend and you at graduation (he missed it), a picture of you on your first day at work with pink scrubs, and a picture of him barely 20, holding you in his arms. You were so precious, such a little thing looking up to him. Dozens of pink scrubs, a calendar marked with vacation NYC and Taylor Swift concert. This didn’t look like a locker from someone who lost it.

--------------------

"Where is my daughter? Don’t bullshit me."

"I don’t know."

"Her boss said you told her she is mental."

"Well, she certainly is. She sleeps around with men your age."

"Do you know where the fuck she is or not? When was she last here?"

"Three months ago."

"Fuck it! My daughter is missing, and you only told me about it now?"

"She isn’t missing, John. She probably married some old fart and ran off."

"Shut the fuck up." He never screamed at his wife. His captain demeanor was always something he left at home, but you were missing, and no one told him. What if something happened? After three months, the traces were hard to find. "Fucking hell."

He walked away to the only place he could think you were. But when your best friend called him a deadbeat dad for only searching for his daughter after three months, he knew something must have happened to you.

---------------------------------

"Kate, please, anything will help."

"John, there is no trace of her. I'm sorry."

-----------------------

"We searched through every man she interacted with, Cap. She isn’t anywhere."

"She is there somewhere outside, Ghost."

----------------------------

"How many more innocent people will you kill, John? She is gone."

-----------------------------

"We should hold a wake for her."

"She is still alive, Kate."

"John, it’s been a year. You know the statistics."

"I won’t stop until I see her corpse."

--------------------------------

"Makarov will marry, holding a big public celebration and everything, invited us somehow."

"Why should I care if that bastard marries, Nick?"

------------------------

"We found your daughter, Captain."

"Where, Kyle?" He asked desperately. He never lost hope after searching for you for a whole year. He wasn’t the man he was before. He was rougher, he didn’t care about anything anymore. He divorced his wife, killed just to have you back.

"You won’t like it." Please don’t be dead. His eyes started to tear.

"Where?" He needed to take his little girl home, bury you properly, a thing he never thought he needed to do, bury his own daughter, but the world was cruel for people like him.

"Alive"Kyle placed some articles of a Russian gossip journal on his desk.

"'Princess of Russia'," John read aloud. "Vladimir Makarov's longtime love was seen shopping for her wedding dress suspiciously holding her belly. Already pregnant?"

"We can't wait for the wedding of the century," Kyle continued, pointing at the article. "From worker to billionaire spouse, she is living the Cinderella dream."

John's heart sank. He knew what this meant. His daughter, his little girl, was about to become a pawn in Makarov's twisted game. And he would do anything to stop it.

Tag list: @multifand0midi07 , @whos-fran , @cassiecasluciluce , @the-faceless-bride

99 notes · View notes

tarriecat · 1 year

Text

Reblog with your generation in the tags if you like, trying to prove some suspicions for myself!

#books #booklr #tamora pierce #judy blume #karen cushman #periods #poll #polls

402 notes · View notes

datboi-axton · 2 years

Text

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐒𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎 𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐄

Your romantic soulmate could be already married but later on become widow or widower.They are intellegent and knows the truth before you speak,they might say things that you will hate but theyre just saying the truth.Comes off as cold , aloof , arrogant due to there "know-it-all" attitude.Doesn't have much friends than others but can be good a leader or ruler.They fear this person but people still accept who they are.Doesn't learn the lesson that hurt them in the past.Often outdoors type of people.Mights have or experiencing finer things in life such as cars , clothes and even houses.Even though they don't have that much money , they manage their money well.They want secure and doesn't want to have lavish life.They work really hard even thought they have money or not and has best work ethics , mostlikely to have alot of resources and money.Always on time and doesn't want to be late and very reliable person.They think first before they act.For some this can be typically student or recent collage graduate that just starting their own life.An unmarried man or woman.This is someone who guards their heart and does not reveal their emotions or feelings.They will do everything just to get the success that they desire.A very workaholic and business minded person,has tendency to neglect the feelings of there heart.They indeed loves to travel in air.

Associated Zodiac Signs :Virgo , Libra , Aquarius , Capricorn , Aries , Taurus , Leo , Mars in Capricorn , Mercury in Sagittarius .

Possible Profression / Careers :Lawyer. Writer. Educator. Scientist. Researcher. Surgeon. Doctor. Geneticist. Analyst. Editor. Numerologist. Astrologer.Professor. Computer Programmer. Farmer. Tough Guy. Tractor Driver. Handyman. Security Guard. Real Estate Agent. Waiter or Waitress. Lower ranking military (not an officer). Nature guide. Forest Ranger.Banker. Driver. Miser. Midwife. Real Estate Building. Leader. Broker.Pilot. Postman. Computer Programmer. Web Designer. Multi-Tasker. Archer. Exercise Instructor. Baton Twirler.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐖𝐎

Seems your romantic soulmate is someone famous and adores by people who surround them.Often received awards and accolades.They might be a perfect person into your naked eyes or vise versa.You and them are meant to be together,this love is already written in the stars and dearly loves each other unconditionally.They could be ending or in beginning of something such as studies, getting new degree or diploma , moving into new home , and even in a new relationship.Might be realize they are at best , they will face their fear that embody them and they will avoids what people thoughts about them being theirselves.Doesn't need others to think i they are perfect because they realize how perfect they are.They face alot of disappointments in life.A hardworker person and designate as apprentice beacuse they still learning mastering their work.They work really hard that may lead them to success or high paying jobs.This is the type of career oriented person.Their work or job is really important to them and put all efforts and dedication that may cause to have rewards.They are ambitious and adventurous and often planning about travelling somewhere.In any aspects of their life they feel confident.Often people seek guidance and wisdom through them.I see here that they planning about something it could be opening new business and might attend of more events so they can promote this business.This is the busiest pile i've got , this person is always busy and doesn't like the idea od not working.Being simple is their thing and might have atlethic body or into sports.Everyone loves them and they're a people person.

Assiociated Zodiac Signs : Capricorn , Aquarius , Scorpio , Sagittarius , Libra , Jupiter in Leo , Saturn , Pluto , Uranus , Mars In Scorpio , Sun in Virgo ,

Possible Profession / Careers :Teacher. Education Administration. Singer. UN Ambassador. King or Queen.Victor. Solider. Movie Star. Stage Hand.Healer. Counselor. Life Coach. Musician. Dancer. Artist. Humanitarian. Movie Star. Beauty Queen. Astronomy. Astrologer. Psychic. Dream Interpreter. Scrying. Fishing. Occultist. Self-help Writer. Futurist.Grief Counselor. Pharmacist. Chemist. Scientist. Bartender.Assembly Line worker. Apprentice. Artisan. Factory. Skilled Worker. Artist. Etcher. Blacksmith. Iron working. Welding. Oil Refinery. Construction. Journey Man. Carpenter. Computer Coding. Educator. Father. Visionary. Politician. Sales. Inventor. Motivational Speaker. Marketing and Advertising Executive. Producer.

𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄

Your romantic soulmate is good with words and this words came from the divine.They think the reason why they are alive is that they have missions to find out.They are mature or much more older than you and good ruler / leader as well very dicipline.They have strong leadership skills and everyone obeys them.They need someone into their life so that they can't be cold , aloof and strict.This is a successful person and has a tendency to help build or guide you to your business.This person will help you in the areas of your life that need structure, discipline, and stability. You will learn a lot from this person.They lost something or dissapoinment in their life.Often invited in many occations and events where they find themselves as V.I.P.Going out for parties and night clubs are just normal to them.They may like to socialize to or celebrating their success is there thing.People look them for support and motivation,they developing skills to become better their leadership.Yeah,this person likes to around to people.They are fearless and indeed loves to try new things into this world and can be sporty because they love to run around that expands their energy.They love sports such as soccer and basketball.They might be bored pretty quick and this person ages over 20+.

Assiociated Zodiac Signs :Aries , Scorpio , Capricorn , Mars , Sun , Moon in Libra , Mars in Scorpio , Mercury in Cancer

Possible Profession / Careers :Body guard. Military. Entrepreneur. Builder. Construction. Body builder. Police Department. Defense Department. Captain. General. Armed Services. Entrepreneur. Engineer. CEO. Politician. Delegation. Head of the Department. Rule Maker.Shoddy Business Developer. Builder. Linguist. Translator. Speech Therapist. Terrorist. Bomber.Typist. Secretary. Diplomat. Peacemaker. Boat Captain. Astrolabe. Mathematician.Grief Counselor. Pharmacist. Chemist. Scientist. Bartender.Party Planner, Wedding Planner, Event Manager or Coordinator, Social Butterfly, Interior Decorator.

Note : Please Like , Reblog , and Follow me .If you have ask and suggestions kindly put that on my askbox or direct message me.

1K notes · View notes

xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 1 year

Note

how would jay do when apprentice!reader goes into labor?

"What?"

Bruce blinked at the phone and cradled it between his shoulder and his ear, "Jason we need-"

"Well you're gonna have to wait," he said sounding tense. In the background, Bruce can hear women's voices and a low groan of discomfort and he feels his heart lurch.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Fine so far, the midwife just got here-"

"The baby's coming?"

"Been coming," Jason said, and Bruce can hear him murmur something he can't quite hear to someone and close a door, "Y/N went into labor early this morning. Early Early."

"And you didn't call?" Bruce asked, more amused than offended.

"Been a little busy," Jason pointed out, "Just trying to keep her comfortable and keep Constantine from blowing up her fucking phone wanting her to work a case between contractions."

Even through the closed door he can hear a cry of pain that had Bruce cringing in sympathy. "I gotta go," Jason said, quickly.

"Let me know if there's anything-"

"Love you bye," Jason said quickly, hanging up the phone. And All Bruce can do is sit there for a second, not sure if he was going to laugh or cry. He knew Jason probably hadn't realized what he said- but it hardly mattered. Somehow, his first grandchild was already working magic of her own and he couldn't wait to meet her.

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd x reader #apprentice!reader #ask answered #minors dni

552 notes · View notes

mishapocalyse · 1 year

Text

When We Were Young

->Anon asked: Reader was in love with Ben before he became soldier boy like as kids and then grew old watching him become and asshole and then “die” and imagines what their life could have been (would be heartbreaking to read but hey let’s get emotional)

Description: The fond memories of growing up with Benjamin Gilman, the man who eventually became America's Greatest Superhero, become a thing of the past.

Pairings: Soldier Boy x (Eventual Supe) Reader.

Warnings: Soldier Boy is his own warning, language, sexual content.

Note: I twisted the request a bit and made the reader a supe. This is still the most devastating piece I think I have ever written. Please read at your own risk.

To the children you both used to be, growing up on the streets of South Philly. Two peas in a pod; inseparable. Never one without the other.

You were the child of a farmer and a midwife, the two who absolutely adored you, showering your childhood with the love that you deserved.

It was 1934, he was 15 years old, and you were a year younger than him. Benjamin Gilman sat beside you on the front porch swing, barefooted, the warm summer air, scents of the floral attributes that wafted amongst you both. The scenery was just as peaceful as his hand intertwined with yours.

"My old man kicked me out again." Ben hesitated.

You sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I don't think my daddy would mind if you slept in the barn again. As long as you don't bother ole' Tessa." You chirp, as he looks down at you while you turned your head to glance up at him.

"Yeah. I know. Thank you, Y/N. You're the best." Ben exclaims.

"You say that to me a lot Benny." You joke, nudging him with your shoulder. Ben leaned up from you, letting go of your hand to dig around in his pocket for something.

You raised a brow, to which he noticed.

"Hold on. I got you something." He chortled.

When he pulled out the object you were stunned at first. In his hands he held a locket. The gold piece was gently placed around your neck as he clipped it together for you.

"Ben.."You started.

You could hear your mother calling from the kitchen as she peeked her head out from the kitchen window.

"You kids should come inside! I about have lunch ready. Ben, sweetheart! Could you be a doll and fetch up Y/N's father, that man is going to get a rash if he isn't careful?"

Ben nodded, standing up to straighten his tapered trousers, and pinstriped cotton shirt. Snagging the thin velveteen coat from the swing seat, he gave you a serene smile as he trudged off into the field. In the distance you watched Ben disappear into the rows of corn towards your father who was manning the tractor.

The both of you were young, and you smiled to yourself while your mother called your name once more to come inside and wash up--the locket beautifully adorning your neck as it glimmered.

-----

In 1947, the beautiful green eyed boy, who was no longer the boy, but a man that you had waited for to come home.

Your mother had wanted you to start working with her as an apprentice as to which you had been over the moon to start. So when you had seen Ben sitting on your front porch swing, you practically threw yourself into his arms. The 28 year old Ben, chuckled to himself, as he pulled you up into his arms.

"Hey there sweetheart!" He was polite, as he set you down.

"And good afternoon Mrs. L/N. Please...let me help you with your bags."

Your mother jerked her things away from him.

"That is quite alright Ben. I got these. You and Y/N should catch up. It has been what? Almost three years since you two seen each other?" Your mother added, moving around Ben to go inside of the house.

Ben dragged your back into his chest, picking you up. The patterned dress material spinning with you while he twirled you around, the wood creaking underneath him. You giggled wildly, as he peppered soft kisses to your cheek.

"Oh Ben. I missed you." You cried.

"I missed you too, Y/N. You know I will always come back home to ya'. You know that right?" He asked, his hands on your shoulders.

From the short distance you took him in. His appearance was surely different from when you last saw him three years prior.

He was exceptionally taller. The lankiness of the young man you remembered had filled in the rest of his clothing leaving a firm and toned man standing in front of you. His hair freshly combed, he was wearing an army uniform, a proper man he had become.

"Was it hard being away from home for that long Ben?" You queried, his hands finding yours, tugging you to sit down next to him, like the old days on the porch swing.

"Being away from you, hurt like hell. All I had were them letters you sent me." He stated, his free hand rose to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

"Now you’re home." You whispered just loud enough for him to hear you.

Ben's expression slowly saddened, as he let go of you. You raised a brow, tilting your head.

"You are staying around, like you promised in our letters? Right Ben?" You continued to question.

----

Over the years it had worsened.

The world was not like it used to be.

Thirty five years had passed since Ben had seen you. He recalled 1947 as his “golden days” where women flocked to him after he was dosed with Comp V and became known as Soldier Boy. However, he also pulled out the long forgotten memories of the young woman he had left behind.

Soldier Boy was seated in his penthouse, wearing nothing but a silk robe, fisting a glass of bourbon while half-hazardously trying to calm his nerves. On the table in front of him laid a bottle of Bennies crushed and ready to have been snorted. Yet, Soldier Boy hesitated. A heaping wave of regret washing over him.

The year Soldier Boy was getting himself riled up for Herogasm in 1982. The iron embroidered clock struck 8:30 in the evening and he knew if he was going to be fashionably late he should leave before 9:30PM. It was hard telling how the others were doing.

He had promised Couze, Crimson Countess-his publicity stunt of a girlfriend that he would meet all of the team there when he himself felt like showing up. Which was going to be now.

Soldier Boy sighed, dragging himself into the bedroom, to head towards the shower.

Once he got into his suit, the helmet slid over his chiseled facial features as he took one last look in the mirror before disappearing out his front door.

—

“Where the fuck have you been? Don’t you think it’s a bit unprofessional to show up to Herogasm four hours late? The fucking thing started at 5.” Countess bitched, while Soldier Boy rolled his eyes, turning his gaze towards the crowd of people mingling, and to others fucking each other senseless in more ways than one.

“To be fairly honest with you Couze. I’d appreciate it if you would shut that cumdumpster of a cockholder you call a mouth.” He hissed, taking a sip of his drink.

“Go fuck yourself.” Crimson spat.

“Already did, whore.” He replied.

----

Soldier Boy had eventually moved away from Countess and the others, ending up on a balcony outside of the main event. It was a bit more enjoyable with the cool night air. He pulled out a pack of smokes and took one into his mouth.

Digging a lighter out of his pocket, a throat cleared.

He tensed while he slowly looked back.

“Had no idea you smoked, Benny.” The glass shattered on the floor as Ben whipped around.

“Y/N?” He shook his head.

“Who else would it be, Benny.” You cooed.

“Looks like you got some work done.” He stated, taking a step forward.

“I gave up on you a long time ago. When you left me on that front porch swing. After my daddy died.” You gritted your teeth in frustration.

“You were dead, I was told you-“ you had to laugh.

“Is that what Vought wanted you to think? No, when they got word you had someone back home-- they wasted no time hauling my ass up to the superhero factory. They pump me full of fucking poison. I waited and waited with a small sliver of hope that you-“ you trembled, the words not wanting to come out.

“Forget it.” You turned from him. “Looks like you took that offer huh? Became a weapon-a toy for Vought American to profit off of.”

You stared back into the party, the patrons visible, sick slapping of flesh and putrid moans escaping the lips of the many who partook in this disgusting festival.

"I wanted something more." Soldier Boy started.

"Here you are then. You have got everything you wanted. The money, the fame...hell you even have someone back home. Keeping your bed warm." You interjected, as you whipped back around your face expressing how utterly livid you were to face the man that had once been your entire world.

"Shut your fucking mouth, Y/N. You got no business talking to me like that. Everything back then was temporary, whatever was between us, the things that happened, were merely one of those things." He hissed, shoving himself away from the railing, his attention on you.

Your lip quivered, you were on the verge of snapping.

"I wanted to show you the life you could have lived if you would have just stayed in Philly. We grew up together, ran the streets, we were two against your father's entire regime. It was just the two of us. I loved you, Benjamin." You couldn't help the couple of tears that rolled and stained your cheeks. You weren't finished, you never were when it came to facing Benjamin Gilman.

"You know, before you just disappeared, back in 49', my mother had asked about you. She wanted to know if you would be coming to celebrate the holidays. I didn't have the heart to tell her that you had--" You quickly swiped the tears from your eyes again.

"Your letters stopped coming. I waited and waited until I couldn't wait for you anymore. And here we are... both of us back together again. It is truly pathetic." you quipped, a small whine escaping from your lips.

"There was no us, Y/N. There never was. When I came home in 47' I was ready to tell you I was heading to New York, that I was leaving you, but I couldn't bring myself to tell you. Because why should I? You were just another girl. There's more of them around me now. I have a lot of them I can choose from." Ben sneered.

"Decided to choose the one that hates you huh? Real classy, Benjamin." You spat.

He stomped towards you, backing your back into the hard brick as it hit the siding. Caging you in with both of his arms, he leaned close to the side of your head, his lips inches away from the tip of your ear.

"You're nothing to me. Fucking nothing. Shoulda' never came here, Y/N. Don't belong with the big leagues. You keep your mouth shut about things you have no idea about" He pushed off of the wall, his back to you again.

"This is what you call the big leagues? More like a bunch of super abled brats, running around with their knickers in a twist. I wanted something amazing for you. I wanted you to have a life. This? This isn't a life. This is a place where you're going to end up dying." Your cheek had burned when he slapped you hard, as you fell onto your ass. You furrowed your brows, silencing yourself, rubbing the side of your face.

"I fucking warned you to shut your fucking mouth. Get out. Start walking. I moved on, Y/N." He gritted his teeth, pushing past you and back to the railing.

"Is this how little you think of me? I don't regret meeting you. You made me happy. Even after everything, even just the interactions between us now, I still love you. I never stopped. I don't think I ever will." You reached out to try and touch Soldier Boy's shoulder. When you placed your palm onto it, he let you. Letting out a sigh, he slightly turned his head to look at you from the corner of his eye.

"I know somewhere deep down in that heinous, arrogant heart of yours, there is a part of you that still cares about me too. I don't hate you, I don't hate the person you used to be--the Benny I adored. I hate the person you have become. Maybe things could have been different in another life." Pulling away from him, you had begun to walk away, until his hand wrapped around your forearm and pulled you back.

He tucked his head into your neck.

"Life was much simpler when you were gone, when I thought you were dead, Y/N."

You loosened his arms, as he let you go. Your hands moved to touch the clasp around your neck, as you unclipped the locket he had given you. You then placed the piece into his palm, closing it.

"Then I guess this is the end to our little fairytale story." You stood on the tips of your toes, planting a light kiss to his cheek, to then make your way back through the crowds of people.

"Wait-don't go! Y/N! Please!" The sound of Soldier Boy's voice had been drowned out by everyone before you could even look back at the man you had grown up with.

Only time would tell when you would see him next.

----

Two more years pass, the wad of pain that erupted from within your chest, brought you to your knees. The news of Soldier Boy, Benjamin "Benny" Gilman, had died to save the lives of the American people.

Not much was said after that, besides the array of memorial celebrations that honored his death, countless events, holidays created that brought inspiration to the new generation of people.

Even when Crimson Countess found out about you, she had somehow ended up at your front door, with a folded up flag. Since he was out of her life, she donated the rest to museums. Countess did not want the man to plague her even after death.

Y/N did warn him that she didn't love him.

----

Present day was much worse than what you had expected. You hadn't aged a bit, it had taken thirty years for you to even age one year. Even then, the memories still haunted you.

Payback had dispersed, becoming run down entertainers to scrounge up whatever money they could to keep their lives luxurious.

None of them had aged well.

You had become numb to the world around you, watching the Seven become popular, rising to the top of the rankings, watched their leader make a fool of himself. It was a position you gave yourself. You didn't have to work, you didn't have to eat much, nor sleep. Practically immortal, actually you could have been immortal. You were starting to believe the latter.

William Butcher and his team had met with you on some occasions after digging into files and finding your name written within. Wanting to know information about Soldier Boy. You had given those fucks the same answer that he was dead. Gave his life, like in the documentaries.

They had buried him in the cemetery, whatever was left of him of course. They had a closed casket funeral, for the sake of those who attended.

Now, you visit his grave, every Tuesday, and you sit with him. Talk about how your life was going. You wished you could have had more time.

---

It had been in the middle of winter, a Tuesday. A coat keeping you warm, while you made a place to sit, continuing the routine. The cemetery was silent, not a noise within earshot. That is until you heard the sound of crunching footfalls within the snow. Chalking it up to other people visiting their loved ones, you quietly returned to your conversation.

Someone cleared their throat.

A man.

"Still pissed at me, Y/N?"

#jensen ackles #jensen ackled #askmishapoc #the boys #soldier boy #the boys s3 soldier boy #i need soldier boy to snuggle with me #soldier boy🍦🪖🎯#soldier boy x reader #soldier boy the boys x reader #jensen ankle bracelet #jensen ankle bracelet and the soldier of boys

340 notes · View notes

ruthlesslistener · 8 months

Note

☠ , ☮ and maybe ൠ with Hollow?

HOLLOW MY BELOVED

☠ Angry/Violent headcanon

-Hollow is naturally extremely slow to anger and is very good at controlling said anger when it starts to kindle, but once they've properly gotten angry, it's all over. Expect a cold, calculative fury that is deliberatly honed to an edge by all their built-up grieviances, as well as a grudge that'll never quite go away. Their siblings get a pass to an extent in that they won't hate them forever if they be annoying about something, but Hollow will also never let them live it down. For actual hatred, though, just take a look at what they did to the Radiance in Dream No More, where they tore open her face and staring deep into her eyes as they held her in place to be ripped apart by their other sibling. That's what Hollow's anger looks like. They've got a long fuse, but the explosives attatched to the end of that fuse might as well be a nuclear warhead

As for the violence aspect of it- they've been trained to be a godkiller, and even if they failed bc the actual plan of attack was rather passive, that doesn't mean that they aren't any less dangerous. They won't ever feel the desire to turn that violence upon the civilians of Hallownest (unless they turn to the Radiance or otherwise be a problem), because they believe it to be their duty to protect anyone living within the caverns, but outsiders don't get that luxury and would be dead in a fight against them before they even had a chance to draw a weapon. Hollow's also got a deeply-buried hunting instinct as well, so there's a double layer of them viewing enemies as both adversaries and prey that makes them extra fatal in a fight

☮ friendship headcanon

-Hollow doesn't really make friends as much as people sort of be nice to them, and they gain increased loyalty to them in return, but I like to headcanon that the closest they ever came to having a friend was with Quirrel, back when he was young and Hollow was still an adolescent. Monomon and the Pale King were both friends (though PK himself didn't think of it as such), so as Monomon's apprentice/adopted son, Quirrel got brought along quite often. Eventually when he was around 15 and learning how to mentor others, he was given permission to practice his lessons on the Pure Vessel as a dummy student, and eventually began to talk to them just as a person and a confident when he was left alone while Monomon and PK did their research. He had no idea that Hollow grew to be quite attached to him in the process, and neither did Hollow- they just knew that they felt calmer and at ease when he was around, and that realization both baffled and frightened them

In post-canon aus, I like to imagine that they reconvene with each other while Hollow's still recovering, and form a closer bond as a god of the lost and their favored disciple. That sounds really fancy, but it's basically just a souped-up qpp that accounts for the fact that Quirrel and Hollow are alien to each other. I also like to imagine them as fwbs when Hollow begins to have heats again post-recovery because Hollow is aroace and trusts nobody but Quirrel, while Quirrel himself is easygoing and curious enough about his friend's strange nature to offer a helping hand

ൠ random headcanon

-This is entirely inspired by Broken Open, but I feel like Hollow would be a really good midwife and/or caretaker for those that are fragile and close to death. The Void is aligned close enough with endings for them to technically qualify as a death god, and they've had enough brushes with it for them to be able to identify it when it's close. More than that, however, I feel like as the God of Nothingness they have a naturally numbing/calming aura around them that stills the world into silence, which is very useful for soothing people who are frightened or in pain. I also feel like their protective nature would mean that they'd naturally fall into the roll of a caretaker, and that a profession opposite from what they were reared for would suit them well, even if they would never be able to fully shake their knighthood. They're a protector first and foremost- they don't know how to be (or want to be) anything else

#slimeel #yknow how tolkien had that whole 'the hands of a healer are the hands of a king'#yeah thats the sort of person i feel hollow to be- a protector and caretaker before a royal #the hollow knight #hollow knight #pure vessel #hollow knight headcanons #ask game #ask meme

79 notes · View notes

anjelicawrites · 1 year

Note

So you wrote about Osferth getting his wife pregnant in winter. Would you ever write about Osferth bonding with the babies? Or seeing the for the first time if they were born when he was away

I'm going for a mix and match here.

His friends have tried to keep his mind off the fact that you are suffering on the birthing bed and he can't be by your side. You have been in labour for hours, the midwife is still with you and they have no news. Osferth is terrorised by the idea of you dying in childbirth. You are strong and healthy but he can't forget about lady Gisela. What if you don't make it? What's he supposed to do? Why did he try so hard to put a child in your belly? If you die it's on him, he's killed you. His fears over you not making it is the only reason why they haven't left yet, postponing Uhtred's travel as lord of Babbenburg and have taken him to the alehouse, maybe some pints will help him relax. They are all fathers and know how it feels like to wait on the threshold of a world they don't know about.

Osferth's head turns sharply, he is sure he's heard your screams of pain. You've been sporting such a big belly, the midwife was pretty sure you were pregnant with two children. The pain you must be through, pushing two whole babies out of your body; his insides turn at the mere thought of you having to shoulder it yourself. He wishes he was a Dane so that he could be by your side, instead of being in the alehouse, listening to his friends' chatter, a pint he hasn't drunk from in his hand.

The door of the alehouse slams open, the young midwife apprentice runs in. Osferth is on his feet immediately, not letting the young woman speak, his legs carrying to the small house you two share. The midwife is waiting for him in front of the bedroom door

"Calm down young warrior"

"What happened? Is she..."

"They are all fine. Your wife doesn't need to see you worried, she is tired enough".

The words sober him up, he takes a deep breath and enters, the voices of his friends far away as they bargain with the midwife to get in as well.

You are lying on the bed, sweaty and tired; you've never been more beautiful; he can still smell blood in the chamber. You have two bundles in your arms, he hears the soft sounds they are making.

"Look what we've made!" you tell him, happy, your voice hoarse from the screaming.

For a second he is paralysed in terror. He feels too big and clumsy, his children so small and delicate; what if he hurts them? You seem to pick up on his uncertainty and doubts attack you, maybe he doesn't want to be a father anymore, not now that the children are a reality.

"You've been through worse, warrior - the stern voice of the midwife forces him out of his reverie - go to your wife. I shall show you how to hold your children".

On wooden legs he comes to your side and sits down. He dares taking a peak at the two small, scrunched faces wrapped in the clean linens. His arms feel heavy as the older woman picks one of the children and instructs him on how to hold him safely. The moment the bundle is in his arms, he starts crying, emotions tearing in his chest. He is a father, he will raise his sons with all the love he has in his heart, he will protect them against all the horrors of this world.

"Osferth..." you don't know what to do or say

"I'm so happy wife" he answers, trying to hug you and hide his face in the crook of your neck.

The two bundles don't appreciate being squished and they let up unhappy wails. He looks at you with guilt in his eyes.

"We need to be careful husband. We will learn".

More delicately he positions himself so that he can hug you and keep the child in his arms safe as he looks at the other.

You two can hear the commotion outside and the three warriors entering the room, their voices booming as they congratulate their friend.

"Finan I swear to God, if you wake my sons up, I will throw you in the river".

That sobers the Irishman up. You are no warrior, he is sure you will do that without breaking a sweat though. You are scary when you want to be.

"Have you decided on names?" Sihtric asks, trying to take a peak at the children's faces

"With your permission Lord - you say with a smile - Uhtred and Finan. Those are their names".

The Irishman looks moved, he is trying to keep himself in check.

"You have my permission" Uhtred cracks a smile, he knows you'll do whatever you want, with or without his say in the matter; he's learnt long ago that he should let you do your thing, if he wants his cock and balls to stay where they are.

"Now get out. She is tired!"

The sturdy midwife pushes the three men out, alongside your extended family. You have been through a long labour, you need all the calm and quiet you can have, before the twins start crying and demand all your attention.

From the day after, Osferth is hellbent in stealing all the work he can from your hands: he plows your lot of land, washes the dishes and the dirty diapers, changes the children, cooks for you. He can see how tired you are, you are the one waking up to feed the twins, all he can do is helping you with managing the house and with your work as healer. You know everyone at Babbenburg makes fun of him working himself like a donkey, instead of leaving the work to you, he doesn't care. He's left his sword and dagger on the mantel, he's rolled his sleeves up and started helping you, more than your female friends do. When he is not working, he is with the children, playing with them, telling them stories, showing them the small knick-knacks you have at home. The seconds of uncertainty completely forgotten the momen he discovered how to look after them properly. If he could, he would strap them against his chest and go about his business this way, but they are too small and delicate, needing the warmth of the hearth, even though it's a good summer.

"They truly look the same"

You can hear your friends ponder, Finan with his namesake in his arms, Sihtric with little Uhtred in his

"They all look the same at this age"

"Those two do more, though".

On silent feet, you come closer to listen to them

"I wonder how they will recognise one from the other"

"If one of them puts his foot in his mouth, then I know it's little Finan" you say, appearing behind him.

Finan jumps and the child lets out an unhappy sound.

"If something happens to my son, I will come for you, Finan the agile" you say and then you go on with your day.

One night Osferth lies in your arms, the children asleep in their cots. The midwife had threatened him, if he ever tries something with you, she will know and kick his ass; your body needs to recover. Truth to be told, your body is still reeling from the long labour, you feel tired and sore; it's going to be a long time before you'll let Osferth make love to you. He is just happy that he gets to be close to you, tired as he is from working hard. Your breasts are more ample now, soft and nice smelling, he adores keeping his head there.

"I am happy you haven't gone with Uhtred this time" you say softly

"You need me more. Our family needs me more. Once you are feeling better and the twins are older, I'll travel again. Next winter, what do you say?"

"It sounds acceptable".

The warm wind is rustling the trees outside, the fire is going in the hearth, your family is safe with you. You wouldn't ask for more.

#answered #osferth x reader #osferth x y/n #osferth

188 notes · View notes

scorpionrising · 4 months

Text

there's an ache in you, put there by the ache in me (pt. 3: you taught me a secret language i can’t speak with anyone else)

pairing: aemond targaryen x oc word count: 5036 content warning: see part 1

read part 1 and part 2 here

Daena was kept up nearly the entire night with bile burning in the back of her throat, and any time she laid down once the discomfort abated, it only returned something fearsome. Relief came in the exhaustion that swept over her and pulled her warily into sleep’s clutches. However, she did not even have the time to dream, as she woke with the rising sun as she always did. She always had been the lightest of sleepers, and it had never been so bothersome as it was now. Bryna, the handmaiden who always tended to her on Dragonstone, eased her out of bed with pursed lips.

“Are you feeling well, my lady?” Bryna asked gently.

“I could not sleep,” Daena said through a yawn, still too close to sleep to consider covering her mouth, and then elaborated, “A sour stomach, I’m afraid.”

Daena had spent enough time as part of Rhaenyra’s household throughout her life, having been taken to ward for quite some time after Luke’s birth, and knew Bryna well. A sweet girl somewhere around Daena’s age, likely a year or so older, with pale red hair, brown eyes splotched with green, and a smattering of freckles, Bryna was the niece of Rhaenyra’s favorite midwife. After nearly ten years of being around the other woman, Daena could read her expressions well. Bryna, so typically unshakeable, was concerned, and for that reason alone Daena thought she might out to be concerned.

“Shall I have Maester Gerardys prepare you a… tea? Tonic? Something of the sort.”

Still quite queasy and with a headache creeping up to match, Daena nodded her assent.

“Right away, my lady. Let me help you into your dressing robe first.”

Swathed in the thick hand spun cotton dyed a lovely and rich shade of blue, Daena poured herself a glass of water while Bryna stoked the fire in the hearth. Once she determined that Daena would be alright alone for a bit of time, she dashed out of Daena’s apartments.

When Gerardys arrived, he claimed there was little cause for worry once he realized Daena had not caught a fever. He urged her to rest for the day anyway, and gave her a minty tincture that would help settle her sour stomach. Then, he instructed Bryna to go have Oswyn, his young apprentice, prepare a pot of ginger tea. It all felt a bit over the top to Daena, but it was not as though there were much else for her to do than stay abed so she did not argue as she otherwise might have.

So, when the next day she woke with the same sour stomach, and the day after, and so forth, she requested ginger tea from the kitchens and used Gerardys’s tincture. She thought little of it because she felt otherwise fine.

She sat in on the war councils, offered her opinion where needed and often without being asked, and trained with Jace to regain the muscle she lost in her time gone. The Queensguard often joined in, as Sers Lorrent and Erryk trailed them both whenever they went.

Daena was facing off against Erryk while Jace lounged and Lorrent heckled Erryk viciously. They were being a bit stupid, using real swords rather than blunted blades and Erryk had stripped out of his armor to even the odds between them for injury.

“Go on, then, Daena!” Jace called from the ground. “Put him on his back!”

Lorrent whistled crudely in response.

“That is not proper language around a lady, my prince!” Erryk called with a laugh in his voice.

Daena took his distraction in stride and hooked her ankle around his knee, pulling his feet out from under him. Grinning, she dropped the point of her sword to his chest and shrugged.

“And yet the lady put you on your back anyway, good Ser.”

Erryk’s cheeks flushed a ruddy shade of pink and Daena stepped away from him so he could clamber up. As she wiped the sweat from her forehead off with the back of her arm, Jace leapt up to bring her doublet and sheath over to her. The air was cool but Daena just slung the doublet over her shoulder, blood still hot from the fight.

“Well done,” he complimented, offering her a sip from his wineskin.

She smiled and took a deep sip. “Walk me back to my chambers, will you?”

“I cannot,” he said. “Mother said I was to report immediately to her once we finished here.”

“Very well.” She handed the wineskin back to him and rested her sword on her shoulder. “See you for supper, then.” She turned to leave the training yard and stopped at Erryk. “I release you of your duties for the rest of the day, Ser Erryk. Perhaps now you might agree to recommend to Ser Harrold and Her Grace that I do not require a guard.”

“Ser Harrold told me that you are just as much Her Grace’s heir as Prince Jacaerys,” Erryk told her. “You will not be able to turn away a sworn shield, my lady.”

She stifled a groan between clenched molars. Just another reason to despise what the future held for her. Would she ever again have a moment of peace? Worried she would say something crass if she lingered, she thanked the knight for the match and hurried back into the castle.

There was a narrow staircase that led up through the palisades and all the way to the top floor of the Stone Drum. No matter how often she did it, her legs always ached horribly by the end, but it was the quickest and most direct way. As she stepped onto the small platform of the palisade to continue up the stairs, the door swung open and Aemond stepped into the stairwell. Alone.

“What are you doing?” Daena asked, hearing and wincing at the shrill edge her voice took on. “Where is Ser Harrold?”

“Rhaenyra decided that I can be trusted not to flee, as I have no means of leaving. I am still not permitted weapons or to even leave the castle grounds, but it is—” And she could hear the tightness of resentment in his voice as he spoke his next words. “—quite generous of our Queen, of course, to bestow such immense privileges to her traitorous brother.”

Daena rolled her eyes. “That’s quite a bit of anger from someone who was committing treason.”

“The war hasn’t been won yet,” Aemond said icily.

“I know you hate Aegon and I’m sure you are smart enough to realize he is too vile of a man to ever be a good king,” Daena said. “Why does he deserve your loyalty?”

“Why does Rhaenyra?” Aemond asked. “What has she ever done for me?”

“This is bigger than our personal feelings,” Daena snapped. “This is about what is best for the realm, and what’s best for the realm is Rhaenyra.”

“And I bent the knee, didn’t I?” Aemond hissed, crowding her up against the wall. “I am here, doing as she demands, hardly more than a prisoner. Tell me, what must I do in order to be trusted? Flagellate myself before the masses? Publicly denounce my family? Humiliate and degrade myself even further?”

Seven Hells.

“Aemond,” she said in a gentler voice than he perhaps deserved. “I do not think that if Rhaenyra did not trust you, you would be allowed to be without a guard.”

“Yes.” He sniffed. “She told me it was you who changed her mind about me.”

That was a surprise. “Me?”

“Yes, I am sure you can imagine my surprise.”

A spark of irritation struck up within her. “Why must you assume the worst of everyone, and assume they assume the worst of everyone else?”

“I’ve found you seem to be the exception in that area,” he said.

She scoffed, crossing her arms. He purses his lips in response, and suddenly all she could think of was kissing him again. If only he would kiss her first; she would not push him away, but she could not be the one to cross the threshold.

“I’ve never thought badly of you, you know,” she said, opting for a brief moment of honesty.

It was strange, but he was likely the only person she could be fully honest with now. They had done something terrible together, and it was their shared burden to bear now. He was back to wearing an eyepatch now, too, and she found she missed the sight of the sapphire.

“I like you better without it, I think,” she murmured without thinking, gesturing to his eye.

He recoiled as though she had smacked him. “What?”

Better to double down than walk it back, she thought. It was less humiliating that way.

“The eyepatch. I like your face without it.”

He made a choked, bleating sort of sound from the base of his throat in response. It was dangerous ground to be treading on, but she was still energized from the fight with Erryk; so much that her blood felt like it was singing, buzzing through her like the cicadas who came alive at night during summer in Driftmark. She was feeling restless and reckless, so when he pressed her to the wall and kissed her, she did not complain or even consider pushing him off. Instead, she dug her fingers into his hair and tugged at the roots while he licked into her mouth and pulled her waist flush against his.

“I was watching you fight,” he muttered, breaking the kiss but not so much that his lips did not brush against Daena’s when he spoke. “I have never seen a woman wield a sword before.”

“And now that you have?” she asked.

“I mourn how many famed warriors we have lost out on, on account of their sex,” he said.

Somehow, that only made her want to kiss him again. There was no denying it at this point, considering he was never far from her every waking thought. She was no longer merely fond of him, or even more than fond. No, that was too light of a phrase for the fire that burned within her belly at the mere sight of him. It could only be compared to what she felt with Sarya. And that was deeply problematic for many obvious reasons, but she wagered it would not hurt to ignore them for just a few moments longer and keep kissing.

Though, as he slipped his fingers below the waistband of her breeches and pushed them inside of her, she wished it was merely physical attraction. If it were that, surely she would feel less guilty, knowing it were just some sort of animalistic instinct taking over her. But instead, she wanted to listen to him talk just as much as she wanted him inside of her.

When she returned to her apartments, Bryna was in the solar, stoking the fire. “My lady!” she exclaimed. “You’re quite flushed. Are you sure you’re feeling well?”

“It is just from the sparring with Ser Erryk,” Daena said breezily, though her face burned even warmer under Bryna’s worried stare. “Is there a bath prepared?”

“Yes, my lady,” Bryna said. “Would you like help undressing?”

“No,” Daena said, not entirely certain that there would be no traces of Aemond left on her skin from their encounter in the stairwell, “thank you, I will be fine on my own.”

Bryna nodded and left the chambers soon after. When Daena removed her clothes, she was glad to have sent Bryna away, for there was a small smattering of bruises left from his mouth on her collar. She took her time in the bath, letting the scalding water soothe her sore muscles until it was no longer even a little bit warm and guilt began to creep back in. For that reason alone, supper remained a private affair in her chambers that night. Jace would certainly be cross with her for it in the morning, but better that than facing him amidst all the shame.

She awoke in the morning with the same sour stomach that had been plaguing her for days, except this time she could not help but spill the contents of her stomach into one of the water pails left from when the maids filled her tub the night before. Groaning, she scrambled for the mint tincture Gerardys had given her to rid her mouth of the taste and scrubbed at her teeth and tongue before Bryna entered. Daena felt instantly guilty when Bryna’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“I’m afraid my stomach is still rather unsettled,” Daena said, embarrassed. “I think I will see myself to Maester Gerardys’s chambers.”

“Of course, my lady.”

Daena pulled her dressing robe over her night shift and slipped her feet into a pair of blue, brocaded slippers to make her journey up to the top floor of the tower. Gerardys was puttering around his workshop when she knocked on his door. He opened the door, holding some sort of spiral shaped instrument she was not sure she wanted to learn the purpose of.

“My lady,” he said, bowing his head in respect, “how may I help you?”

“I became ill this morning,” Daena said quietly, “if you take my meaning.”

His eyebrows sprang up while his eyes widened, but he nodded and quickly ushered her inside, instructing her to sit on the examination table. She jumped up on the table and teetered awkwardly side to side while waiting for him to speak.

“So, tell me, how far along are you, my lady?”

“What?” Daena exclaimed.

“Is that not what your meaning to be taken was, my lady?” he asked, sounding shocked. “Forgive me, with your symptoms, I merely assumed.”

Daena glanced down at her abdomen subconsciously and started laughing. “That— That’s absurd, Maester, I— I am merely—”

Her voice petered out as she realized quickly that she had no good explanation for why she had been feeling so out of sorts lately, especially when she had a very strong stomach otherwise. He smiled at her delicately and pulled a stool up to sit by her so they could speak.

“When is the last time you bled, my lady?”

“I—” She scoffed. “I cannot recall, but— Things have been utter madness lately, so that perhaps explains why—”

“I could perform an examination, my lady, to be sure.”

Daena’s lips trembled and her left eye twitched. “Very well!”

The Maester’s kind smile never wavered. He stood from his stool and quickly procured a small glass jar for her. “I will need you to urinate in this, my lady.”

Daena scowled, but grabbed the jar. She knew of this test, and it would take the better part of the morning for the end results. But, she did as Gerardys required of her and handed him back the now uncomfortably warm jar. He seemed unphased, however, by the temperature and the smell.

“I will allow this to sit, for now you return to your chambers. Come midday, I will have Oswyn bring you a tea— raspberry if you are with child and ginger if you are not.”

“You will be discreet, will you not?” Daena asked before leaving. “And Oswyn?”

Gerardys patted her hand. “You may count on it, my lady.”

So long as he does not tell Rhaenyra.

She spent the morning pacing the length of her bedchamber, scratching the side of her neck raw and biting her nails down to the quick. Oswyn came shortly after Bryna brought a small lunch of stew and bread that Daena could barely even hope to pick at for all her nerves.

“Your raspberry tea, my lady,” he said, setting the small tray down on the table.

She burst into tears in an instant, causing Oswyn so much discomfort that he stuttered out an apology and sprinted out of the room.

Panic began to seep in, eating away at her bones and sending her to the floor in a nervous heap. The cuts on her knuckles and palms had finally healed to fresh skin, but she pounded the side of her fist into the rough stone anyway.

Her father could not cast her out, not completely— not when she was officially his last living child. But that did not mean he would not spurn her, keep her sequestered away on High Tide with her bastard. She could not believe how stupid she had been, so careless and selfish. And she had done it all to herself. Leaving the tea to get cold, Daena followed after Oswyn, tearing down the corridors and up the stairs to reach Gerardys’s workshop. She blustered inside like a madwoman, but cared little for propriety at the moment.

“I’d like you to make me your strongest batch of moon tea,” she said, hands trembling so terribly that she could not even scratch at the itching on her neck.

“My lady,” Gerardys said, voice dripping with sympathy that Daena did not want to hear. “If you are so far along that you are experiencing these symptoms, it would be too late for that… not to mention potentially dangerous.”

“But�� I— I—” She spluttered, unsure of what there was even left to say or do besides throwing herself from a tower to stop the situation altogether. “Maester, I’m ruined.”

“Come now, my lady,” he said, putting his arm around her and guiding her gently to a seat, “You must not fret too terribly.”

It was not so easy to take the man’s advice, but Daena did her best. The quickening had not even happened yet, so there was still plenty of time for the pregnancy to fail before she would need to tell anyone. And if it did not fail, at least she would have the time to determine what exactly it was to say to Jace to convince him to pass off Aemond’s child as his own. Really, what she needed— now, more than ever— was Laenor.

Which is how Daena once again found herself begging Rhaenyra for leave to go to Rook’s Rest.

“I need not even stay,” she pleaded. “I just need to see him.”

“You will not need to leave,” Rhaenyra said, reaching out to place a hand on Daena’s arm. “I’ve sent for him to return to Dragonstone now that Cregan Stark is only days away.”

Daena’s shoulders sagged in relief. “Thank you, my queen.”

Rhaenyra only smiled and squeezed Daena’s bicep. “You will see him before the grand assault begins.”

Thank the gods.

He would know what to do, what to say. He had been younger than she was now when he married Rhaenyra, under very similar circumstances to her being forced to marry Jace. He could help her solve the Aemond problem.

Following supper, Daena made her way out to the gardens once more. The garden terrace faced west, just as the courtyard at High Tide did, and she could watch the sunset as though she were home. With the assurance that her brother would be on Dragonstone soon, she felt a touch more optimistic.

The moment’s peace was quickly disrupted by the sound of soft footsteps she knew all too well. She closed her eyes and held in a deep breath. Aemond’s arm brushed against her shoulder.

“I have… been looking for you.”

“Have you?” she asked, unable to recognize the sound of her own voice for how shrill it was.

“Yes, I—” He stopped himself abruptly. “I feel I must say something, and I must beg you to allow me to speak without interruption. I fear if I do not say it all at once, I never will.”

A bit dumbstruck, Daena felt her eyes flutter rapidly as she nodded.

“You are promised to Jacaerys, and if you wish it, I will never gaze upon you again, but I do not believe you wish it,” he began, pulling all the air from Daena’s lungs. “I have loved you all my life, and I think you have always known this, but now I am leaving no room for speculation and rumor. I love you. Whatever it is we have shared with one another, I do not wish for it to end. It is dishonorable and treasonous, but I would do it all if it meant you turning your gaze upon me. I wish, my lady, to be in your life however you will have me.”

Daena was stunned to silence, merely staring up at him with her lips parted in shock.

“I humble myself before you, Daena. I love you with an enormity I do not have the words to describe.”

She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth and sucked in a deep breath. Was this not all she ever wanted? A love that consumed. She opened her mouth to speak— though she did not know what it was she intended to say— and was cut off by Jace drawing near.

“Daena.”

Instinctively, Daena took a step away from Aemond despite them already being an appropriate space from one another. She looked over Aemond’s shoulder at Jace, with Ser Lorrent trailing behind him. His features were tight, pulled taut as he glared at Aemond.

“I was hoping to speak with you,” Jace said. Then, after glancing once more at Aemond, added, “Privately.”

Daena nodded. “Of course.” Then, she dipped her head towards Aemond— “My prince.”— and dashed away for Jace to follow.

Once safe and away from the garden gate, she halted her steps to allow Jace to catch up to her. Ser Lorrent maintained his distance of thirteen paces, as always.

“The greenhouse, instead, perhaps?” Jace suggested as she put her hand on the door to enter the castle.

Daena nodded and allowed him to take the lead. Ser Lorrent did not follow them into the greenhouse, but rather posted at the door.

“I thought this might be a good place,” Jace reasoned. “We can be alone but without tarnishing our reputations.”

Daena avoided his gaze, biting the inside of her cheek guiltily. She had already ruined their reputations.

“I spoke with Maester Gerardys earlier this afternoon,” Jace said, and Daena could tell he was easing into a conversation.

She cursed the Maester internally for not giving her the chance to confess her sins herself. It was a foul, underhanded move. One she did not expect from him.

“He advised my mother and I that it would be in our best interests—” Daena closed her eyes and held her breath. “—if you and I were wed sooner than not.”

“I’m pregnant!”

The words burst from her lips before she could even consider stopping herself. She shut her mouth just as quickly as she opened it, sucking her lips inwards and curling her hands into fists at her sides. Oh, no. Jace blinked at her, chuckled a bit, and then frowned.

“But— Hm. Right, then. We shall be wed before the moon turns. I will tell my mother we— Well, I’m not sure what I’ll tell her, but I will tell her something.”

“Jace—” Daena croaked.

But he did not let her get another word out. “No one will know otherwise. So long as the child does not come out with red hair, who will be able to say it is not mine?” His brow furrowed for a moment as he paused for half a breath. “And the child will marry Luke’s eldest of the opposite sex so that my mother’s line continues.” He smiled, quite proud of himself. “Yes, that will do just fine.”

The familiar sting of tears pricked at the back of Daena’s eyes. “Jace—”

He put his hands on her shoulders and stepped closer to her. “All is well, Daena. This solves many of our problems.”

It broke her heart how much of Laenor there was in him. Jace was not Laenor’s blood, but he was Laenor’s son all the same. She never ought to have doubted Jace’s response, especially when she knew neither of them wanted to have to attempt at making an heir. And having the child marry Luke’s only made perfect sense.

The only fear that remained was only for what would happen when Jace realized the child was Aemond’s. As though able to sense her thoughts, Jace spoke again.

“Will the— the father be a problem?”

Just an hour ago, Daena would have sworn he would be, but now— after that display in the gardens— she was unsure. The way Aemond had spoken, it seemed as though he would do whatever she asked. She also knew it would stoke his pride and ego to know that his child would be third in line to the throne. But would he be able to step aside and allow Jace to raise his children? Of that, Daena could not say.

“He— The man— He is—” She smoothed her hands down over her stomach, trying to imagine the bump that would swell soon enough. “It is Aemond, Jace. Aemond is the father. We— We were together while on the island.”

Jace swore quietly, but did not look surprised. He huffed and sank down onto one of the benches. “Why? After… After everything he’s done, everything he’s said?” He scoffed. “I understand his infatuation with you, but I cannot fathom yours with him. You have always treated him with fondness he has never deserved.”

Crossing her arms, Daena continued to gnaw at the inside of her cheek. After a moment, she sat down beside Jace and clasped her hands together between her knees.

“I cannot quite explain why,” Daena said softly. She sniffled and looked at Jace from her peripheral vision. “Perhaps it is because I know how hard his smiles are to come by, and yet he gives me his smiles freely.”

“Utter madness,” Jace said, shaking his head. “You make him smile, but does he make you smile?”

Daena paused and thought of Aemond’s absurd sullenness; of his bony ankles poking out from beneath the too-short pants of a commoner; of the way he curled into her as they slept and nestled his face into her neck; of how he balked when challenged; of the absurd amount of apples he ate from Mariyah’s stores; of the sapphire she gave him embedded within his eye.

“Yes,” she said easily.

Jace swore quietly once more. “Him calling us bastards, I can forgive— but what he tried to do to Luke? I still do not understand how my mother has allowed him to go free.”

Daena sighed and took Jace’s hand in hers. “What Aemond did was cruel and foolish, but he did not set out to murder. I said as much the night I returned.”

Jace’s face was unreadable. Then, “I would understand it more if it were purely out of boredom while you were trapped together.”

Despite it all, Daena smiled. “So would I.”

At the very least, that made him laugh. Hope for her relationship with Jace was not lost.

“Do you love him, then?” Jace asked.

Daena shrugged. “I know he loves me.”

“Well, that we all know.” He offered a short grin and bumped their shoulders together, squeezing her hand. “Will you tell him?”

“I won’t be able to hide it for very long, will I?”

“Yes, but are you going to let him believe the lie or will you tell him his child will one day sit the Iron Throne?”

The thought was chilling. Her child— the one slowly growing within her belly— would be the most powerful individual in the realm one day. What an unfair life she was bestowing onto the unborn babe.

“Only if we go forth with the wedding,” Daena said, scratching the side of her neck.

He shot her an annoyed look. “I would not dishonor you that way.”

“It is not dishonor if it was both of us wish for,” Daena said a bit miserably. “But, this was my mother’s wish. She never got to be queen, and so that dream was foisted unto me. And it is her grandchild that will seat the throne after you, and I feel duty bound to honor that wish.”

“So, a wedding before the moon turns, then?” Jace asked, a grimace marring his boyish features.

“Yes,” Daena agreed, shoulders slumping. “A quick affair in the sept, yes?”

Jace’s brow quirked. “I would have assumed you would want a Valyrian ceremony.”

“Only if we were in love,” Daena said simply. “That is not a ceremony meant for marriages of duty.”

“And as neither of us put much stock in the Seven, we shall feel no guilt for stepping out on one another,” he surmised.

Daena snickered quietly, staring down at her bony knees through the skirt of her gown. The guilt she felt was not for “stepping out,” and she was sure he knew that.

“Do you hate me for what I’ve done?” Daena asked.

“I could never hate you, ñamar,” Jace said softly. “I do not understand it, but I do not hold it against you. The heart is a strange and rebellious creature. I know its nature well.”

Of course. We both know what it is to want what you cannot have. Daena stewed in it for a while. Then, she heaved out a great sigh and patted Jace’s knee.

“We shall face this together, yes?”

His hand grabbed her knee in turn and squeezed gently. “Always and forever.”

It made her feel only marginally better, but better nonetheless. With Jace and surely Laenor on her side, there was not much Daena would be incapable of accomplishing. The trouble laid in how honest Aemond was being when he professed his love, and if Daena could find it in herself to forgive not just him but herself.

“Aemond was in the middle of confessing his undying love for me when you interrupted us, you know,” Daena said, beginning to giggle.

“Oh?” Jace asked. “And was he doing a good job?”

Her lips twitched. “Very.” Then, she frowned. “I said nothing to him.”

“Will you?” he asked. “Say something to him.”

“I ought to,” Daena said. “It would be cowardly to not face him.”

His head knocked gently against hers. “And you’ve never been a coward.”

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x ofc #aemond targaryen x reader #house of the dragon #asoiaf #hotd #hotd au #jacegan #jacaerys velaryon

36 notes · View notes

steviestits · 1 month

Note

Not sure if you're still taking prompts but I was wondering if you could do Potions/Bitching, and Guards/Brainwashing if no one has asked those already. Thank you!!

Thanks for the prompts! And nope, no one has asked for those, so yours are completely original

Potions/Bitching - Eddie is a potions master and Dustin is his apprentice while Steve is Dustin's surrogate big brother. Eddie and Steve are alphas, but Dustin is a beta, so he's having a bit of trouble learning how to create potions suited for alpha/omega biology. Dustin doesn't let that deter him, though, and he continues to try to learn the practices on his own.

Eventually, Dustin thinks he's got the potion right and gives it to Steve to try, telling him that it should make his ruts go smoother. Steve is dubious of the potion's powers, but Dustin wears him down, promising that he wouldn't be giving it to Steve if he wasn't one hundred percent certain that it works. So, against his better judgment, Steve drinks the potion.

The potion works. Steve does have a smoother rut, because he doesn't have one at all. The night that he takes the potion, Steve goes through his first heat as the potion bitched him from an alpha to an omega. It's a bit painful growing a womb, but by the end of it, he's moaning in pleasure as his hormones shifted to those of an omega.

After Steve finishes his heat, he tracks down Dustin, upset that the kid accidentally bitched him. Dustin feels sorry and takes Steve to Eddie, who will know how to turn him back into an alpha. Though Steve doesn't want to try any more potions, he goes with Dustin to meet Eddie to see if he actually has a solution.

Steve arrives with Dustin at the tower, only to find that the omega in him is going wild over the alpha's scent. Dustin relays the problem to Eddie, but Eddie is clearly not listening as he seems aroused by Steve's scent, too. Eddie makes up an errand for Dustin to run, and Eddie fucks Steve right there on his potions table.

Dustin returns shortly after they finished fucking for the tenth time and doesn't seem to know what was going on in his absence. Eddie agrees to make the potion to change Steve back, except it doesn't work. The only reason why it wouldn't work was if Steve was pregnant, making the affects of the spell permanent.

As it turns out, the potion also made Steve hyper-fertile. Not only did he get pregnant super quickly, but nine months later, the local midwife delivers all six of Steve and Eddie's baby nuggets.

Guards/Brainwashing - Steve works as a day-shift guard at a magical prison that houses the most dangerous magical creatures known to the kingdom. One such creature is a hawk-like siren named Eddie who has been responsible for the sinking of numerous shifts and the deaths of many of crews. He's kept in one of the high-security wards where they have enchantments that supposedly nullify the inherent magical nature of his voice.

Eddie is personable and sometimes chats with Steve on shift, asking him about his day. He seems to be one of the more model prisoners, serving his consecutive life sentences without much of a fuss. Also, the other prisoners don't bother Eddie, so he doesn't bother them. All in all, Eddie seems to be taking imprisonment very well.

Because of the highly dangerous nature of the inmates, guards sleep on site in their own barracks, even on their days off, they must return to the barracks for sleep in case of an emergency. What no one knows, however, is that the night watch has been compromised as the enchantments stopped working in his cell.

Every night, Eddie sings a song for the guards and commands them to release him. He doesn't escape, however, and instead heads to the guard barracks where Steve sleeps, so he can sing to him. Eddie's been working a deeper song on Steve to sway his heart and loyalty in order to make Steve into his beloved mate.

The two have intimate intercourse each night while Eddie wraps Steve tighter in his spell. Steve assumes these are only dreams since there's no way Eddie would still be here if he could freely leave his cell as he did at night. He begins to believe that maybe he actually has deep feelings for the siren prisoner.

This continues until the spell is complete and Eddie can take his prize away from the prison. He brings Steve to his nest, where Steve is happy to stay because of the song that binds him.

#show: stranger things #steddie #my fics #alex answers #wip wednesday #but on a friday

16 notes · View notes

hisunshiine · 2 years

Text

—cures for idiosyncrasies | jjk

→ pairing: wai! jungkook x reader → genre/au: victorian era!au, pride&prejudice vibes, fluff → chapter rating: M → wordcount: 3.2k words → chapter warnings: mentions of the patriarchy and sexism women face, alcohol use, hangovers, cursing, patient attacking medical professionals, minor injuries, drowning in Jungkook’s eyes, kissing → credits: @peachiilovesot7 I AM SO GRATEFUL FOR YOU, and @moonleeai, you hype me up to the clouds! it makes me enjoy writing so much more because of the two of you and the feedback you provide. → an: I realized that in my world building, I did not adequately explain how debuting, courting, engagements, etc. work in the Whims & Inconsistencies series! Please enjoy this one shot featuring a side character, that touches base on this in a way that I hope is easy to understand but also is hidden within a fun one shot! → an2: This is part of the whims and inconsistencies series but can be read as a stand alone, though this chapter does contain a spoiler of chapter 6 of WAI and a lot more would make sense if you read this after chapter 6 (or 7) .

whims & inconsistencies: series masterlist map of Sonyeondan taglist: @firesighgirl@jungshook7

You’ve lived in Sonyeondan all your life. This quaint town with a citadel in the middle is all you’ve ever known, never having ventured north to the capitol, as women are not allowed to go for formal schooling. Exceptions have been made recently, sure, but not in the areas that you are interested in. Your father is a physician, well known in Sonyeondan and surrounding areas, as he serviced several other towns nearby. Growing up following his long coat and lambskin bag of medical supplies, your interests are in medicine.

Unfortunately, women are “too delicate and sensitive” to be in such occupations, so despite all of the knowledge you have gleaned over the years with your father, your choices in medicine are to be a midwife. Indeed, you did like babies and children, but you hate how limiting your options are. It feels like a waste to your intelligence to be stuck in one specific field of medicine, and for it to be looked down upon, as if child rearing in any capacity was delicate or sensitive.

The patriarchy could suck bollocks for all you care, but you must abide by its rules nonetheless. Thankfully, you benefit from your father’s positioning within the hierarchy of professions, which means now that you have debuted into society, you’re able to have almost any man your heart desires, with a hefty dowry to the man who takes you into his family.

Sitting at the table in the front room of your father’s clinic and apothecary, you check-in a man you know well. Park Jimin is lithe, with a lean frame and beautiful angles outlining his gorgeous face. He is best friends with Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook, who you know of pretty well. Taehyung and Jimin have been frequent flyers in the clinic more recently the past few months, often with a diagnosis from your father of a “two-penny hangover”.

Lord knows the amount of alcohol the three consume could put the rest of the country to shame, and their behaviors that pair with it are best described as despicable. It wasn’t always that way, but ever since you heard that Lord Kim had fallen ill, Taehyung seemed to come around more often for tonics to cure his head ailments, dragging Jimin more often than not.

Jeon Jungkook, the last of the scallywags, never dares show his face here when nursing his consequences from a night out, as he is the apprentice of your father. And what a handsome, muscular, infuriating apprentice he is.

You’d instantly taken a dislike to Jungkook when you met him on his first day at the clinic almost a year ago. Proud and sarcastic, you hated the way he walked around as if he was so accomplished, when he was a novice in this world, your world, if the patriarchy would ever let you be more than a midwife or the secretary in your father’s business.

With an exasperated sigh, you call Jimin over to you so that you can gather information for when he sees your father. Jimin is slow moving, but you can’t help but to eye his fluid motions, his body still spectacular despite his hangover.

“Could you possibly lower your voice, YN? My head aches fiercely.”

You roll your eyes as you hold the metal nib tightly in your hand, akin to clenching your fists.

“I am but speaking in a normal volume, Park Jimin-ssi. Now, you should know this questionnaire by heart.”

“Indeed. Park Jimin. Twenty-six. Headache. Possibly from the amount of ales given to me at the tavern.”

“Wow, I’ve written this so many times over the past few months, if only I had access to a printing press to make copies so I no longer tire out my hand.”

Jimin laughs at your joke, despite it being at his expense, and you can’t help but smile at his good naturedness towards you taking the mick out on him.

“I’ll let my father know you are here, and get started on that tonic I am sure he will prescribe for you so you can get home and feeling better faster, okay?” Despite the reputation their gang has garnered over the last year or so, your interactions with Jimin never seem to line up fully with what you’ve been told. Nor Jungkook, but you push the thought out of your mind, not wanting to think about all you’ve gotten to know about the young, promising physician.

“Thanks, YN, you are the woman of my dreams right now.”

You can’t hide the warmth that rises to your cheeks at his words, though you almost spill your small bottle of ink when you hear his friend's voice from behind you.

“Now, now, YN, shouldn’t you wait for your father to tell you what he needs? Wouldn’t want to go wasting any of the ingredients because of an assumption.”

“Hello to you too, Jungkook. I’m surprised you’ve made it in today. What with Jimin here as a patient, I would think you would be in a similar state hiding out from my father.”

He places his hands on the table you’re sitting at, leaning into your space with a wicked smile gracing his handsome face. You hate the way his proximity leaves your thighs rubbing together. You hate Jungkook. Why does he make you feel this way?

“YN, do you think so lowly of me?”

“Someone needs to—or else your hubris would take you aflight and carry you off to another town…actually maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

“Don’t deny it, you would miss me if I were to leave.” Jungkook brings himself impossibly closer, his lips almost brushing yours as he continues in a whisper, “I would surely miss you.”

You ache to pull him closer, part of you wanting nothing more than to punch that cute mole under his luscious bottom lip, and then kiss it better. He moves back suddenly, the patient slip for Jimin in his hand as he heads back through the door to deliver it to your waiting father.

“Why do you toy with YN so much?” Jimin’s head feels much better now that he has rested and drank the tonic he was given. “One would gather that you were interested in courting her.”

Jungkook leans his head back onto his mattress from where he sits on the floor, resting after work while Jimin sits cross-legged atop his bed.

“She is just fun to wind up, Jimin. Plus, she’s smart, she jokes back with me instead of running off in tears, and I quite enjoy the view.”

“And still, you evade my questions. YN debuted at the beginning of the season. She has yet to be engaged to anyone. Your family must be interested in you starting a family—mine sure is, and our mothers gossip far too often for you not to be feeling the pressure as well as I.”

Jungkook nods as best as he can from the angle his head is at.

“I mean, yes, they want me to settle down, start a family, everything that I am sure they pressure you to do. Unlike Taehyung, we are not the third child free to do what we please, when we please.” He closes his eyes briefly. “Courting YN wouldn’t be bad, but since she has already debuted, would she not be expecting an engagement soon after?”

Jimin hums slightly, running his fingers through his hair, effectively messing up his tresses in a good way.

“Yes, if you had courted her before she debuted into society, you would have had much more time to get to know her and see if you would be compatible in a relationship. However, with Lord Kim’s condition—may he rest in peace—we did not have much time to spend on women in a serious capacity.”

“Yes, being there for Taehyung, while I would not trade that for anything, did seem to negatively impact my ability to marry for love.”

“Always the lover, you are. It’s a wonder you’re still on the market,” Jimin teases, lacking malice. He was happy that his friend wanted to marry for love. Yes, Jimin may have bedded several women in his lifetime, but love and sex were not the same to him. Jungkook, however, could not separate the two, and had yet to lose himself to the pleasures of being buried to the hilt below a woman’s skirts.

Don’t get him wrong, he had been close plenty of times, and had buried himself in mouths a plenty, not nearly as innocent as his heart on his sleeve would suggest, but Jungkook often wondered why he was still on the market too. Probably because he harbored a crush on his mentor’s daughter, the beautiful woman who couldn’t stand him.

“Though I think you actually know her quite well despite having never courted, if not YN, then…couldn’t you just choose any woman who pleases your eyes and then, I don’t know, use the engagement period to get to know her?”

Jungkook frowns at Jimin from below him.

“And then if she’s a total dimwit? Or what if we just aren’t compatible at all?”

“I know it is not…ideal, to end an engagement, but it won’t hurt you as much as her. She’ll seem as if something is wrong with her, but in a few weeks all of the girls will be flocking to wed you.”

Jungkook rakes his fingers through his hair, not liking the odds. It also was quite unfair that everyone assumed a broken engagement meant something was wrong with the woman. When people break off courtships, no one cares, but as soon as you cross into engagement, that’s when the woman becomes damaged goods.

“Or, Jungkook, hear me out. You could possibly talk to YN’s father. I’m sure that he would love to have his apprentice as his son-in-law, train you right up to take over the family business and have YN by your side.”

Sighing, Jungkook folds his legs until he is able to rise up off the ground and flop onto his bed dramatically. It’s not that he hasn’t already thought of this. He’s spent a lot of time around you at work, and he thinks you're beautiful, intelligent, passionate, and funny. You have similar interests and if you didn’t hate him, Jungkook is sure you would be open to the idea.

“Yeah, Jimin, I’ll think about it,” he says, hoping to get Jimin off his back about it. “I’ll talk to her, see if there’s a chance.”

At home, you sit at the formal dining table with your parents for dinner. You had returned home before your father to help your mother with some sewing, and now the three of you dine and talk.

“YN, have you thought any more about men we could invite over? You’ve been out in society for some time now, and have yet to promenade or be courted by anyone for over a week. Why, that orphan was seen multiple times with Lord Kim Seokjin and she only just arrived back to town when you debuted. The men here have known you for ages.” Your mother clutches her porcelain cup in her dainty hands, sipping from it while she waits for your response.

“Exactly, Mother. We have seen each other grow up, witnessed each other's ugly years and embarrassing moments. I am probably no more attractive to them than they are to me.”

Your mother tsk’ed into her tea.

“Please, don’t be so dramatic, YN. What about that nice young man who works with your father?”

“Jungkook?”

“Jungkook?!”

You and your father both say his name with different tones. You with incredulity and your father with interest.

“Yes, the Jeon boy. He’s grown into his features, which are rather striking. I hear the way the women talk about him when he’s brought up in conversation. You two would make beautiful children.”

Groaning, you use your hands to hide your face. You do not expect the conversation to detour into Jungkook being a potential suitor.

“I—Jungkook and I—You see, I am not sure he and I would be a compatible match.”

The eyebrows on your father’s face furrow in confusion.

“Really, YN? I disagree. As my apprentice, he shows a lot of the same qualities I see in you. Why, if you were a boy, you would be just like him! It is a shame though, really. I wouldn’t need to train him to follow in my footsteps if that were the case, but imagine! If you were to marry, the business would stay in the family.”

“But Father, he’s so prideful, walks around like he’s so great and knows everything—”

“Yes, quite identical to my only child seated across from me.” His eyes twinkle in the light, full of mirth. “Don’t think I am so old that I don’t hear the way you show off your knowledge in front of him.”

“But Father!”

“I love you, YN. But your mother is right. You have now debuted into society and the dowry sits there, gathering dust in our coffers. And we may not be old, but we would like to have grandchildren some time before we are too tired to play with them—”

“Really, Father! You want to sell me off to the highest bidder so you can have grandchildren? Was I not enough of a handful for you?”

“Oh, darling, you still are a handful!” Your mother laughs, and your heart squeezes at the way your father looks at her, reaching for her hand across the table in joint laughter at their pride and joy: you.

This is why you haven’t settled yet. You want a love like what your parents have, to create a home warm and inviting after a long day of dealing with the turmoil of this world, with strong arms to wrap around you and keep you safe. Strangely enough, in your mind when you picture it, those arms look strangely familiar: muscular and in a coat that hangs next to your father’s at the end of the work day.

It is to no one’s surprise when the Citadel’s homeless shelter sends word to your father’s clinic right at the end of the day that they need him to come help. Coughing, sick children fill their rooms, and they insist a physician is needed so that people can sleep through the night.

You are about to leave to meet with your mom, leaving Jungkook to close up when said apprentice comes to you slightly panicked. He looks good as ever, hair pulled back in a short ponytail. It makes him look much more serious, respectable as a physician, and better allows you to see his eyes: doe-like and filled with warm fire-like embers.

“Your father has been called away to the Citadel shelter and there is a man at the back door. He’s raving mad, and I can’t get him to make any sense to help him.”

You stare, a little shock running through you that his pride allows him to come to you for help, but then you’re moving to help, feet on autopilot.

“Let me see if I recognize him.”

Following Jungkook down the hall, you step into the room behind him, smelling the man in question before you see him. He doesn’t look familiar, with greying hair and more rotund then you expect him to be. Typically someone who cannot afford to dress well cannot afford to eat well either. He sits on the medical exam table your father built, and even in this position you can tell that he is tall.

“Sir? Can you please tell me what brought you in this evening?”

“That dumb cunt, the audacity to mess with me things, grubby paws stealing me money.” He continues to ramble on in a gritty voice, clearly agitated. His hands gesticulate wildly as his mouth moves, volume dropping in and out.

You step around Jungkook despite him reaching out for you, his hands grazing your waist. You regret leaving the safety he provides, but the man doesn’t seem to register that anyone has returned to the room. You approach him slowly, arms open and down by your side to show you aren’t a threat to him.

“Sir? We want to help you, but we need to know what’s wrong. Are you injured anywhere?”

His eyes snap towards you with a quickness that startles you into stepping backwards. It’s not fast enough, and the man lunges for you, hands grabbing your throat.

“Cunt stole all me money! Give it back!”

It’s hard to breathe and your heart feels as if it’s trying to escape your chest. You fight back against his hold, arms scrambling against his fingers where they meet your neck, but your vision goes spotty, darkness on the edges creeping in. You hear loud noises, a voice yelling as air rushes into your lungs. You gasp, seeking oxygen to clear the fog that formed in your brain in the panic. Blinking several times, you take in the sight of Jungkook pinning the man to the ground safely. The man lays prone on the floor, Jungkook’s thighs on either side of him while he uses one hand to hold the man's wrists behind his back.

He doesn’t struggle, in fact, he lays still, muttering under his breath. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls quickly, his hair falling loose to frame his face from the hair band that he had used to tie it back. Letting the rest of his hair fall free to join the other strands, he uses the tie to bind the man’s hands behind his back. Testing the man’s movements, Jungkook slowly releases his wrists and the man just lays there, lost in his own world again. Jungkook looks to where you lean against the wall, those fiery, ember eyes wide and searching, sending a heat across your skin as he moves across the ground towards you and asserts that you are okay.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would become volatile when he saw you, I shouldn’t have put you in danger…your father will never forgive me.” His voice is a low whisper, so as not to disturb the raving man, and once he reaches you, he kneels and sits back on his heels. Hands reach for your face, holding you gingerly as he turns you this way and that, making sure you have full range of motion without any pain.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. Thank you for saving me.”

Your eyes lock with his, and for a moment neither of you say anything. His thumbs still, resting on your cheeks as his large hands cup your face. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, YN.”

He moves in the time it takes for you to blink, eyes shutting as his lips press delicately to yours. You breathe him in, moving closer as if an invisible thread was being pulled to decrease the space between you until there isn’t one. His tongue flicks against your closed lips, and you separate them, allowing him to taste you. Deepening the kiss, you let out a soft moan, one that brings Jungkook back to the present. He pulls away from you slowly, as if he doesn’t want to, but there’s a senile man in the room with you and while you both appear pleased with this turn of events, you know that it’s neither the time nor the place for it.

whims and inconsistencies series masterlist —thank you for reading! feedback is greatly appreciated!! please let me know what you think of this story!

244 notes · View notes