#junkenstein x reader

Part Six:

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The small pressure of what should've been the unnoticeable or ignorable weight of a mouse running across your stomach caused a jolt of reaction from yourself. You sat up in bed annoyed and tired. From what your adjusting vision could see, you made out the white ball of fur skittering across the room and under the beds with the help of the moonlight.

On the bed, the moon highlighted the sick woman in a distance and you sighed. Maybe it was because of the burden of caring for her or the placement of your name in that book that prevented you from sleeping but you couldn't help but feel sick yourself. You tried to lay back down on your firm bed. The flat pillows added to the stone feel as they gave you no comfort to your neck. The blankets themselves didn't prevent any cold either. An overwhelming sense of irritability grew in you as you lifted yourself out of bed, replaced by the heightened awareness of being watched. You froze at the side of your bed, facing the door and all the other sleeping women. Aside from the cold, your skin shook with an electric feeling and you could feel all of your hair go on end. Your gown stuck to your frame in sweat and your breath caught itself in your lungs.

Someone was watching you.

Your heartbeat increased and your stomach turned as you turned back to the wall on the opposite side of your bed. With your eyes still adjusting to the dark you could see the faint outline of a shadowed figure where the moon could not reach. Someone seemed to be standing there. You squinted your eyes and blinked numerous times but it was as if spider webs laced themselves between your lashes to prevent you from seeing and kept them shut. The figure hazed and retreated further back into the corner of your room, melting its already dark silhouette in the pitch black of the space. A Soft sound seemed to flood into your ears again with the disappearance of the mysterious guest and for once you were relieved to hear a hearty cough from that sick old lady.

It's too late to fall back asleep you thought now, wide awake and adjusted to the dark. The cold had chilled your bones to the point where they shook under your skin and you could feel your teeth chatter for brief moments at a time. With your hair still on end, you rubbed your eyes and walked out of the maid quarters and down the hall towards the kitchen.

Unlike the greys of the day sky the castle, through the open walls and gardens, was flooded with blue light. Against your bare feet, you could feel the cold and smooth cobblestone, feeling a few imperfections if you cared to pay attention to it. In a daze, you thought about the book.

A simple accidental explanation seemed unreasonable. Deep down you felt as if it was intentional. Things for some time have gone unchecked, punished, or realized. Pushed back and forgotten so you could continue as another maid who had come and gone through the century. But recently it was as if you had woken up from a still sleep into a wave of anger that had begun to fester inside of you over time. You acted for more of a notice, not necessarily by others but by yourself. A definition or demonstration of existence, proof you were and are here. The lack of the book recognizing this destroyed that desired and set you back into the shadows of all the others who wished to keep you there.

A thought of hope and desire which lay dormant, turned into a rhythmic pattern of anger and pain, like the heartbeat now caught in your head, one beat more pronounced than the other.

Bump , bump , bump...

Your heart naturally beats until it delay a thump by the mere second joined the pattern.

Bump , bump , clank , bump , bump , clank...

You couldn't see it but what had woken up that desire was walking down the hall adjacent to the kitchen, giggling and chattering to himself with his mix-matched steps. Like you, he too was absorbed in his clouded mind to realize you have turned the corner in front of him until his eyes caught your frame through the dark light in the split second before you both walked into each other.

"What's sard' bones are you roaming around for?" Junkenstein hissed.

"I- excuse me, who-"

"Blimey, you're a dumb wit,"

You rushed to figure out your surroundings, heading pumping in pain, confusion, and astonishment, looking at the scientist highlighted by the night glow. The blue's of his glasses transparent at this distance to see his annoyed eyes. "I'm sorry I wasn't necessarily paying attention-" you began.

"Clearly."

You glared at him, eyes quickly softening as you continued to speak.

"-and with my head screaming at me...it's been difficult to sleep." As the conversation started you both looked each other down, you notice a familiar book in his human hand, pages marked, and his muddy steps following behind, and him, noticing the tire in your eyes and your worning gown cut a few inches short from your uniform. Luckily the night provided enough darkness to prevent you from seeing what you two had discovered. "Again, I'm terribly sorry."

Junkenstein broke his silence with a scoff, gently hitting your shoulder as he walked by and a page graced the floor. You bent down grabbing the yellow-dirted page, noticing a "C E M"  through the fold. You also noticed that the page's edges were cindered off by fire. His peg leg stepped twice and you met his eyes again as the sheet was taken from your hands.

"By any chance, were you at the library?" You asked.

He squinted his eyes. "No. why would I, a genius," his voice quickened, "dwell in there if I have my own." He smirked and regrettably, it struck you.

"Must be seeing a ghost." Without any more of a reply he left, a subtle slam of his door left you in the hall alone. You laughed to yourself. Standing in the cold astonished at the blank look he had given but also the excitement his annoyed tone gave you. The book itself was from the library, there was no mistake in the leather cover aside from your missing name. But if he was there now and then, how did he disappear?

You looked back at the stairs behind you and back at the way you came. He had to have been there. Determined to find out another mystery you continued to the stairs, your right foot stepping in the mud trailed in by his peg leg. Quickly you ventured up, holding your breath and sweating in the nostalgic fear they gave. Halting at the top the sound of laughter and crying. Around the corner on both ends of the hall, no one stood and no one sounded to come. Stepping out of the staircase the laughter and crying rang out again but more hushed than before. Instead of turning to the library, you turned right in the guest wing of the castle. The doors on each side of you remained locked, the ones opened, empty as you peered in and closed the door. After a few more seconds of silence, the sounds appeared again, the laughter replaced with chatter before disappearing. You peaked into another empty room and closed the door. You came to the end of the hall and could still hear the crying and decided to turn back. A cold chill ran up your spine and you flinched, spinning back around and following the crying to the right once more, quickly meeting a wall. Strangely you felt as if a door should have stood there. You had a memory from years back of a door here. Closely leaning against the wall you pressed your ear against it and the crying rang out clearly.

"Y/N!" Amelie pulled you back with a firm grip on your arm, tightening it as you glanced back at her.

"What are you doing here?" She whispered.

"What- me? What are you?"

"I had an order from the king to prepare the guest rooms."

"That should have been done in the day."

"Yes, but I didn't manage to get to it now have I?" Amelie swung your arm towards the hall you came. "Return to bed. Now. Nobody should see you like this."

"You see, I had to grab something at the library for-"

"You are not permitted in those quarters."

"When in preparation-"

Amelie stepped up to your face firmly pushing you back. "No, as I'm ordering you, go, back, now."

"Is there any guests up here?"

"Guest? No of course not. I can't tolerate your stupidity right now-"

"I heard-"

"There's no one, here," she pushes you by your chest as you stepped back further down the stairs. "Leave."

You stared at her expressionless.

She pulled onto your hair and your lack to wince at the pain turned her away. "Don't let me catch you again."

With brows crossed in anger, you turned away yourself, ignoring the ghostly cries behind the wall and towards the library, maneuvering through the dark castle. You mumbled to yourself, cursing Amelie and yourself for not noticing she was out of bed. The further you got down the hall the warmer it got. In a distance, a blue glow and a light hum rung out. Getting closer to the source your eyes adjusted to the bright rippling body of the scientists' robots standing at both sides of the throne room. Admiring its height you inspected it by touching the metal and hovering over the heat its body radiated. It didn't acknowledge you or your touch. Like the first day you had seen one in the throne room, it amazed you just the same. An almost sentient life constructed by the power you couldn't understand, short circuits of lightning and plain armor metal. The only peculiarities it had to you was that it was standing here without the scientist present.

The wood doors with dark latches they stood by fumbled under the weight of someone approaching. For a moment you stared at them, running to the intersecting hall when you realized someone was coming your way. You hid with your back pressed against the wall and waited to peer out once the people had left.

Out stepped two tired travelers, an older woman with a patch covering an eye and a younger man with a hat and cloak that hid him in the dark, both bounty hunters.

As you heard the two leave the room you peaked around the corner catching a glimpse of their backs before they disappeared. As the door closed slowly you could see the king talking to a knight. What had them awake and seeing visitors at this time was beyond you. Outside and through the window you stood by, oddly left open, the moon was at its highest peak suggesting the very dawn of the night. Taking your chance now that the door to the throne room had closed you made your way to the library, peering back once again.

The library itself still remained lit with some odd candlelight for the hour, but there was enough darkness to hesitate your way through, avoiding the center tables and ends of shelves. You grazed your hand on the top shelves feeling each spine, reaching a tilted book covering an obvious gap. This was the spot you had grabbed the book listing each name of the kingdom, besides it a red book with no title. You grabbed the book and skimmed through the pages understanding it held nothing but teaching guides for knight interest.

This confirmed what you saw in the scientist's hand.

Further down the shelf another book ever so slightly tilted to fill another gap. The book covering its vast place this time held information about the land's soil and advisements about gardening.

But what book was supposed to stand here?

Curiously you looked around the whole shelves, the perfect alignment of each book making it obvious when things were misplacements. Turning round to the end of the row you scanned around for the path the scientists disappeared in. The candlelight only assisted you to its dying ability from the library doors as you ventured into the dark with what little you could see, and after wandering cautiously you felt a pocket of cold air and what could be a familiar hum at another wall. With a hand out front hovering over the brick, you reassured yourself of a strange flow of air coming from the wall. Placing your hand against the wall you traced the brick lining to where the corners met and fell into an invisible space. You drew your hand back and stared at the wall curiously. The humming stopped but as you brought your face closer to where your hand fell through you could hear the distant sound of dripping water falling into a bucket. Then a glass shattered and you pulled back. This was no wall but a found the passage.

Just barely fitting your body through, the library doors opened and you froze. Though you couldn't see Wynston had walked in and towards the shelf, you were looking at. He too was looking for the book of names and he crossed his brows at the missing sight. As you judged from his fleeting steps he had walked away and one by one the remaining candlelight went out. He left you in complete darkness.

Standing there, you contemplated whether or not to keep going down the passage or back into the maid quarters before the early morning routine began. It was dark and you didn't know where you'd end up if you followed the passage that winded down some steps. Against the ladder, you decided to continue on and slowly felt out each step with a foot before confidently stepping down. Not long do you approach a soft light and could see the final steps of the case. Hesitantly stepping into the light, you found yourself in between two rows of books and bottles. The room brightly lit from the candles on the walls and desk smelled of something distant and clean, not quite definable which you made sure to figure out later. The air itself was warm and for the first time, a room felt welcoming to you and you alone.

The books on the shelves matched the library, some differing by some gold decorations along the spine or covers. Even though most were browns they were rich in colour, used but cared for. The shelves on the bottle were much like the herbs in the kitchen, leaves and dried fruits in jars, flowers with their cut stems, and liquids of odd colours and written labels. The collection along this shelf was impressive as you picked various ones for closer examination. As the books had unique decorations a few you held had little skulls or clouds. One you held was wrapped in thin black paper and a lid held down by some string. Inside the jar, as you slowly unwrapped it, it held white powder and another drawing.

A small mouse with crossed-out eyes and a bigger mark over the image.

"Flour?" You spoke out loud, hearing a shift of movement as soon as the word slipped out. You placed the jar on the shelf and a jar next to it budged forward. In a split second, you instantly caught and placed it back. You looked at the jar again. The writing on the label sent your heart into a craze.

It was the same medicine jar you were given for the sick hag.

Walking to the end of the shelves you could see a desk littered with sheets, books, and strange instruments, an open space to the left where water dripped, and to your right, you saw the shut door all the children use to avoid. Beside it, was the bed where Jamison Junkenstein slept.

For a second it felt as if a spark of energy shocked you in an overwhelming sense of adrenaline with your ears ringing and your feet shaking. But your eyes remained wide and you shoulders scrunched back up to your face. You felt like you were breathing too much for your lungs to carry and stepped back into the desk. The wood made a sound. You froze in place, he didn't move. Sleep began to waver again when a blink made you realize how dazed you were. Everything around you which had felt high in unseen energy seemed to fizzle out in that same stillness when you came in.

There laid Jamison Junkenstein

This is where he went when you had chased him in the library.

He seemed to have sighed and your chest fell. He didn't move or turned back. Your hands left the desk behind you and you stepped forward. He still didn't move. On your left alongside the wall to his bed, some shelves hovered against the wall, and under it larger hand-drawn diagrams hung. Marked out in black ink, red, and blue, one diagram taking the center read as three maps stacked on top of one another. A bold line, a small detail in red had you recognize the wide angles as the library and what had to be the way into his room.

Beside the map were diagrams of his mechanical hand and leg with listed alternatives for parts.

Clever.

A list of measurements wrote out a pattern for his coat and another paper with the rough plans of the metallic beings that's hovered around the castle. Beside the last sheets is a ripped page with listed names. You frowned. Each name written down littered in notes was of each of the maids and Amelie's stood out in an aggressively drawn circle. What was curious was the bottom of the list reading

"there's one more missing"

Junkstein moved closer to the wall he faced, curling in a ball except for the stretch-out prosthetic leg. He laid in the sheet that barely reached the ends of his bed, and slept in his lab coat. His metal hand was still attached to his arm and his googles sprawled on the floor. With sleep beginning to threaten you, you stood above him, his brows still crossed despite the fact that he was asleep. You bent down and grabbed his goggles, admiring their blue and reflection they threw back at you. You glanced back at him one more time as he moved in discomfort and you felt the chill yourself. Placing his googles on one of the shelves you returned back to the desk to reassure him he still possessed the blue book. Under another map, drawn by another with thinner marks it laid between two assumed journals. The other scattered diagrams amazed you at their detail of the anatomy of human and non-human.

You fought with yourself to stay in his room and see some more of his work but retreated back to where you had came. The whole experience replayed in your head once again while you were in bed, smiling at the fact that someone had noticed that you were missing.

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Note: I might make a part 2 depending on how much people like this one. Let me know if you want a second part.

Part 2

Your Uncle wasn’t amused. He rarely was these days. The Doctor’s machines weren’t entertainment to him but servants. It saddened you because you found them endearing. That wasn’t your only problem. You developed a small crush on Junkenstein, and if your Uncle, the Lord, found out he’d be furious. He was already trying to find you a suitor.

You stumbled through the darkness of the castle. A lantern would draw too much attention to you. Once outside the lights and the moon helped your vision. You could finally see where you were going.

His castle was nowhere as big as the one you lived in. For that, you were thankful. You hated the empty feeling it had for being so large.

You knocked on the door and waited for an answer. After a few minutes you knocked again. And then again. Until finally you heard shouting from the other side and the door swung open, narrowly missing your face.

You jumped back in surprise and stared at Junkenstein. He had apparently been yelling something when he cut himself short at the sight of you.

You regain composure and smiled. “Good night, Doctor Junkenstein.”

“Princess?” He blushed. “What are you doing out so late?”

“I uh…” you thought about how to say it. “I wanted to visit you.” Junkenstein seemed surprised by this.

“Me? You wanted to visit me?” He questioned. It was as if the statement made him more giddy. Well, it did. He got a burst of energy suddenly.

“Well, yeah.” You replied. He took no time in pulling you into the castle and slamming the door behind the pair of you.

“I’ll give you the grand tour of the place, princess!” He placed his hand on your back and guided you up a pair of stairs.

You blushed brightly. Good thing the stairway was dimly lit. “You don’t have to call me Princess. Call me (y/n).”

“(y/n)? That’s a pretty name.” He blurted out. His eyes widened and you let out a giggle.

“Thank you, Doctor Junkenstein.”

“Jamison.”

“What?”

“My name is Jamison.” He muttered.

“Alright.” You said as you two reached his lab. “Jamison it is.”

He showed you the run of the place. Mainly his lab, though. It was huge. He showed all of his projects: finished, still in the works and even failed ones.

You spent the rest of the night with him. The two of you talk about anything and everything. The sun was about to start rising which is when you knew you had to get back to the castle.

He walked you to the door and said your goodbyes.

It became a nightly thing. Every night at the same time you’d sneak out and go to visit him. You had almost been caught a few times. Almost.

Junkenstein’s castle became a second home. And you two grew closer until one night he finally confessed his feelings to you. After that night a romance blossomed.

He still came to the castle with his machines to “entertain” your Uncle. But your Uncle seemed more agitated lately and treated the machines even worse than normal. It didn’t help that every suitor he presented to you you denied.

One night, however, things were different. Junkenstein was jumpy and more stressed.

You took his hands into yours. “Love, what’s wrong? What has you so irritable.”

“It’s nothing to worry about,” he held your face in his hands. “But when I’m done with my work, everyone with regret the day they laughed at me!”

“We can—” you stop yourself from finishing that sentence. Junkenstein stood there, waiting for you to finish what you were saying. “We can runaway. Leave this place. Go somewhere we’ll be accepted. Away from my Uncle, away from the town.”

“We will leave,” he said. “We’ll leave if my plan doesn’t work.”

“And if it does?” You asked. He smiled and kissed you softly.

“Then we have no reason to leave.”

This is my first time ever writing (and reading!) anything Junkenstein based, did I do okay?NSFW is under the cut (its lowkey but hey ho)

You worked in the lab opposite yourcrush, Jamison Fawkes. He went by the nickname of Junkenstein (or Junky) aroundcampus due to the rumours on his latest project. Somehow, with many endlessnights and way too much research, the man had created his own monster, a livingand breathing being. You were absolutely fascinated with anything he created.You found yourself hanging around his lab after hours in the hopes to catch aglimpse of him. Every time he would catch you and ask what you were doingworking so late. You could only smile and ask him the same thing.

One morning, you were working on yourown research when you heard a knock on the door. You paused your work and movedto open it. It slid open and there stood Jamie himself, grinning like a madman.“Y/N!” He beamed, beckoning you out of your lab, “Come look!”

You gingerly slid out of your roomand into his. There, for the first time, you saw it. In the flesh, there stoodJunkenstein’s Monster. You gasped, grinning at the marvellous sight. “Wadda yathink? You’re the first person I’ve shown ‘em to!” He nodded eagerly at you. “It’s… incredible!” You gushed.

Jamie laughed, jumped up and down andwrapped you up in his arms. But then he realised what he did and reluctantly letgo of you.  “And that’s not even the best part.” Helaughed awkwardly, bringing a hand to the back of his neck and he nodded at thebeast before you.

It moved, taking its first stepstowards you. You were shaking a little out of both fear and excitement. Hismonster stopped just in front of you and it raised its hand, clutching in it alittle bouquet of flowers. You smiled as you accepted them.

Jamison blushed, “Yeah, I kindataught him to do that.” You turned to him and smiled,

“It’s wonderful, you’ve truly outdone yourself.”

Later that evening, you were stillbusy working on your projects when you heard another familiar knock on yourdoor. You were still smiling from the flowers as you got up to answer. You tooka longing gaze at the bunch that were propped up on your desk.

The door slid open once again toreveal Jamie stood there just like before. Before you’d even seen him, youcould tell he’d been blushing in anticipation. “Hey,” he whispered, “I figuredyou’d still be working, mind if I join you?”

Suddenly, your mind went blank. Allyou could do was nod and shut the door behind him. Your heart was pounding andyour head was racing. “S-so are you d-done for the night?” You stammered andlaughed nervously. You were fine earlier… what happened?

He laughed and nodded, “Yeah, the bigguy needs his rest as do I.” You smiled and before the both of you entered abrief awkward silence. “Listen.” Jamie spoke first, snappingyour attention to him and out of your head. “About the flowers- “

But he stopped talking when he sawhow you’d kept them on your desk. He approached them and rubbed the petalsdelicately between his fingers. “You… You kept them?” He turned to you, walkingover to you and catching your heart when he stared into your eyes. You laughedawkwardly and looked away,

“Well, I thought they were very pretty! And I mean this place couldalways use a little bit of- “

Jamie cut you off when pressed hislips against yours. You melted under his touch a little when his hand met yourwaist. “I really like you.” Heblushed, smiling a little.

You breathed a sigh of relief and ranyour hands up his chest so that they could effortlessly fall off his shouldersand around his neck. “Well it’s a good thing I really like you too.” You kissed him back as he smiled.

His grip tightened around your waistas he kissed you so hard you had to lean back. Oxygen didn’t matter to him ashe seemed to live through kissing you. You managed to take the hint when hebegan to nibble on your lower lip.

Smirking, you pulled away. Youstepped backwards, watching him watch you as you moved towards your desk. Youpushed aside a bunch of your paperwork and reached out your arms, inviting himto come closer.

He was on you on an instant. Both hishands were feeling up and down your waist and his mouth was back on yours. Inone swift motion, he had you in his arms and up on the desk, your legs wrappedaround his waist. You felt him growing more confident, moving his lips fromyours to your neck and ear, his hands trailing under your shirt and hipsrocking against yours.

His fingers grazed your bare skin andyou moaned a little. You heard him chuckle and go in harder, groping at yourwaist and stomach. Your head was buried into the crook of his neck. His handsworked their way up, unbuttoning your shirt from the bottom as he went.

When his hands finally reached yourbreasts - you were already a mess but somehow, he managed to get more out ofyou. You moaned his name, you could tell he liked that because it made him biteyour neck with more force. His hands slid down your back and began to fiddlewith the waistband on your jeans.

Ask and you shall recieve… eventually! Thank you so much for your patience; i am happy with how this turned out! :D

Junkenstein’s Romance (Junkenstein x Fem!Reader)

Word Count: 999 (I am not kidding.)

Characters: Junkenstein, Reader, Junkenstein’s Monster, Hayseed.

The crisp autumn air sighed sweetly through the castle’s open window, the warm sunset piercing into the Monster’s eyes. He didn’t mind the pain, as much as he minded all of the color, and sweetness, and… blech. It wasn’t the sunset that was causing such distress, however; it was more of the romantic tension in the air between his creator, Professor Junkenstein, and a particularly acute female scientist that he was working with for the time being. Junkenstein was being so much more… fidgety than usual. He chuckled at everything she said, practically hitting the roof with the top of his head after every kind remark she made to him. He was an imbecile, and she seemed to find that adorable.

“… So you can see it too, aye?” Hayseed sighed, swinging from side to side on the Monster’s shoulders. Due to his straw construction, Hayseed needed not worry about breaking his back on the rough exterior of the beast, and used him as a sort of playground.

“Something has to be done about this,” the monster mumbled, scratching at his rotting teeth with his massive scythe-like hook.

“I was thinking the same thing! Now, I was thinking of a more discreet death… more of a giant boulder kind of thing, but if you wanted to go for a more brutal approach…”

“No, you blathering idiot. If Master Junkenstein truly cares for this girl, we have to do something,” the monster sighed, “because he is not going to do it on his own.”

“Oh, yes, right! Haha!” Hayseed jittered, obviously not following. “So, we help Junkenstein… make a move?” By the time he had finished his sentence, he had hoisted himself up and wrapped his legs around the Monster’s shoulders, resting his chin upon the matted coal hair of the creature.

“My thoughts exactly, my flexible friend.”

  I can totally try and do something along those lines :) Might not be exactly as you hope though

Pulling your hair back up into a neat ponytail, you pulled on your shoes and apron. It was early in the morning and after another rather boring sleep, you were plenty ready to get back to work and start trying to create something new, something…different.

Carefully you walked down the hall, past the doors of the others sleeping away in nearby rooms. Stealthily, you slid yourself into what was a large room the size of a gym. There were tables and machines and such all over the place. Half of the room was yours, and for the most part was a bit tidier.

The other half belonged to the other scientist you worked with, Junkenstein. He was an oddball, that one, with wild hair and a adventurous glint in his eyes that was only matched his crazy enthusiasm.

The two of you were polar opposites, Junkenstein being a rather brilliant but sloppy lunatic and you were more neat and organized. You liked for order and discovery. He lived for choas and destruction. Everything he created had a tendency to go berserk, for better or worse saying. Everything you made was meant to help society.

So when you discovered that somehow you’d fallen for his crazy charm, it stunned you. And now…to your embarrassment, you were having trouble being in his presence without getting all silly and flustered.

Speaking of him..

A loud clang came from the room, startling you and causing a small high-pitched shriek to escape you.

“Ow!” yelled a voice as there was another bang, and then the a moment later, Junkenstein lifted his head from behind a table, rubbing his temple. “What’s with all that racket, aye? I hit me noggin’ good, me did!”

Junkenstein paused when he noticed you, the annoyance slipping away and then the barest of blushes filled his face. “O-oh! Y/n…Didn’t…ah…didn’t know ya would be awake this time…” he said, all shy.

The sight of him had your heart pounding and you couldn’t help the blush creeping up into your face too. “U-um…y-ya…Couldn’t sleep..,” you managed, having to look away. Why did he always catch you off-guard like this? Why couldn’t you just be blunt about your feelings?

Because, you thought, the chance of someone as great as him liking someone like you…was impossible.

“Um…I’m gonna go…work on some things before breakfast,” you said quickly, needing to escape the ache that filled your heart at the thought. Was it really impossible? Unfortunately, like him, you were also oblivious to the obvious fact that he liked you.

“O-okay,” Junkenstein said, wishing he would stop tripping over his tongue. God, did he think you were beautiful. You were the smartest girl he’d ever met and you never made him feel stupid for how his inventions usually turned out..he was positive you were soulmates.

If only he could say how he felt….but he was so terrified.

“Just talk to her,” growled a voice behind him, startling Junkenstein as he’d watched you walk away. His monster stood there, looking tired and irritated with his arms crossed. “Just spit out what you want to say already.

Junkenstein looked away, picking up a pair of tweezers. “She wouldn’t ‘ave me, y’know that,” he says, in honesty just as nervous as you.

With a growl, his monster lifted him off the ground. He was sick and tired of seeing Junkenstein moping all the time because he didn’t know how to talk to you. It was time for him to man up and get his girl.

Walking over to you, you were startled to see Junkenstein being carried by his monster over to you. One looked panicked and the other irked.

“Whats going on?” you asked in confusion.

Setting Junkenstein down right in front of you, his monster gave him a solid clap on the back that would definitely leave a bruise. “Say it,” he growled. “Or i will.”

Panic filled Junkenstein as he stared at him in shock. “You wouldn’t!” he said, sending you a glance. “You ain’t that evil!”

“Watch me,” his monster growled with a glower, before turning his back on him.

Junkenstein was afraid to tell you, but he didn’t want his monster to be the one to tell you how he truly felt. Swallowing, he slowly looked up at you, fidgeting. The moments passed as he tried to make words come out.

And finally, as he stared at you and saw the sweet curiosity in your eyes…Junkenstein realized maybe it was time to tell you.

“Y/n…” he said slowly, face turning bright red. “I…I…”

The tapping of his monsters foot caught his attention and he could tell his patience was waning.

Taking a deep breath, he let it out.

“I’m in love with ya, darl’,” he said shyly, looking away. He just couldn’t meet your eyes…he was so afraid of finding rejection in them.

Astonishment was your first reaction. Surely…surely he didn’t…but he must, or his monster wouldn’t be so irritable. How on earth had you gained his love, you thought?

Your second emotion was joy. Pure and unrequited joy. He loved you. Junkenstein returned your affection. How amazing was that, that the man you admired and adored happened to return the feeling?

Slowly he glanced up, afraid. “Darl’?”

Without a second thought, you threw yourself at him, arms wrapping around his neck as your lips found his. Fingers in his mess of hair, the kiss was sweet and soft and honestly, made his brain turn to mush.

When you pulled back, you were breathing hard and a smile was tugging at your lips shyly.

Part Five:

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While laying in your sleep you began to stir. A headache began to fall upon you and you softly opened your eyes before they rolled back into their sockets. Taking a deep breath you turned onto your back and sighed, gently stretching your legs as an attempt to find comfort. You swam inside the cloths that kept you warm as a chill crept it's way up your torso. It was an uncomfortable and unwelcoming sensation, as if  the very hands of death were holding onto you, caressing your body.

There was a light tug at your leg and you stirred with a murmur. Then followed another tug, more aggressive than the first. In a daze you stretched your arm to cover your leg, but came to find that the soft touch of your blanket was nowhere to be found. Your tried again, annoyed and on your back, searching both sides of your frame with your eyes still shut. The dark shadows of strain and decay travelled further up your leg and pulled once again with such forces that you were physically dragged down to the end of your bed. You gasped in the dark, shooting straight up with your struggling eyes, but with nothing to see, and a headache most painful, you fell back asleep.

There was a fog during the night, traveling through any crevasse it could slither through, stalking the halls for prey and dancing in the gardens before the sun began to rise. As much as you have slept in discomfort, the king did so as well. Almost knowingly aware of the stressor who had snuck their way through the castle walls.

The morning that followed was grey and crisp with cold air. Giant clouds of melancholy rolled over the sun and casted a harsh white light as they dominated the sky. A gloom was presently beginning to set before a dreadful winter would take its place with a slow shift of seasons where the leaves took their time to show it. Long before baring their place of home they blessed a sight of reds and yellows against the harsh monotones of the day. It was the sound of mourning doves which began to wake the people of the land and a stray ray of sunlight that woke you. In the middle of the room, closer to the door, the other maids dressed and chatted amongst themselves as you sat up in bed. Briefly one of the maids looked at you as you searched for the blanket which had gone missing through the night. Amongst the other beds in the room all other blankets remained tucked in nicely, but on top of the sick frame of the maid you've been caring for, laid your warm blanket cruelly resting there. That morning and for the proceeding three days.

"Don't be bothered, the ma'm is sick." One of the maids called out. "No one else wanted to give up their blanket."

"I can see that." You responded.

"Can you now? Don't get smart here, just ready up already for the day."

The maid shared a look with another and continued to brush her hair as you sat your old white gown.

You listened to the orders given out that morning by a maid with chestnut hair in braids wrapping around the bottom of her head and in place for her white cap. Her voice was low and modulated as she spoke to her gathering. You thought back on the sick woman resting behind everyone at the opposite side of the room. Barely motionless with no change in comparison to when she began taking the medicine you've given her. A steady, slow recovery, and fading fever.

"Anything not assigned means you'll continue yesterday's work as perusal. Lena, Amelie, and myself will be assisting rounds in the castle alongside the laundry maids."

You fiddled with the sleeves of your uniform, adjusting it so the sleeves fit nicely on top of the under layer added to combat the weather.

"Eventually we'll need travels to the fair and work in the gardens. Y/N instead of caring for the women return back anon and join those in the gardens nearby."

You gave a silent nod as a reply without turning your attention away from your sleeve.

Many gardens were hidden within the castle walls, unique to its custom design. The main court yard was what you could see out of the castle from the servants area opposite to the hall you were walking upon. Beyond that; stairs, much like the one you hated, stretched up into a hall - officially part of the castle on the left side of the garden.

Once venturing through the castle, down the decorative halls aligned with glorious overpowering windows sided with thick solid curtains, pass the familiar throne room, and ball room dorned in glistening objects, would one arrive to a series of doors. Libraries, studies, and most importantly guest rooms guarded by rich cherry wood.

Then there is a return to those stairs which mainly separated the two sections of the castle. The main castle and the servant living quarters.

As the main castle had one large garden outside of the ballroom with a small division of another -separated by a flowered arch- the extension of the castle and servant area had several less intricate gardens. They held their beauty satisfying yourself and the other maids who enjoyed the gardens' minimal beauty but they didn't amount to the glory outside of the ballroom.

You yawned passing the kitchen hearing a brief commotion as they began breakfast for the king and a tiny squeak as a little thing darted passed your feet. Down the hall, the torch by the scientist's door was out and remained dark.

To your left you entered the garden space. A large rectangular plot of land where the grey light in the sky blinded you momentarily. A few maids were already working on some rose bushes as others trickled in from behind you. Instead of cleaning up some sticks blown over from the wind last night or trimming some hedges by the benches seated at both ends of the garden, you sat in the middle of garden where smaller flowers were being planted and weeded.

"These aren't going to survive long" you pointed out to the gardening maid. She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"The rose bushes is where you should help." She waved her gloved hand at you.

"Very well, but it's getting colder and-" she cut you off with another wave.

The roses stared at you with sad dry petals, begging for forgiveness. The greens of their leaves curled and the only thing barley standing was the sharp thorns out against you as weeds peered out from the roses' base. You sighed.

You lifted one of the weeds for a better look and it pricked you with tiny thorns of its own. In continuing your work you discovered how deep the root of the weeds went, entangling themselves with the roots of the roses.

You dug your hands in the hearts of the weeds as a crow above head screeched.

All other maids in the garden looked up at the passing bird as you continued your work. The thorns, sharp and cold as both plants, dotted your hands. Scrapping your nails loaded with the uncomfortable sensation of dirt under them, the dirt rejected you, numbing the movement of your fingers. There was a strange feeling of nostalgia that came from the numbing pain in your hands. Picking at the ground while unknowingly listening to the older women who cared for you, shaming you in secret for not being capable to help around the castle. It was a memory or memoric sense after the events at the stairs where the unnerving presence of that women followed you through the twisted stair case. After you were pushed and shoved around in the hall as well. Sitting in the garden like now, you were planting small white flowers you didn't know the name to. The soil was also just as unwelcoming as it was now. You're throat dried at the memory.

There was crows above head calling that day, much like today. The maids ignored it then with a few muttered comments you couldn't quiet make out.

What was it they said?

It had been disapproving. A curse to someone.

Now all the women glared at the black bird as it landed behind you. The bird kept crying.

You swiped a tear from your face with your sleeve. You fought to remember that day. As you plucked the weeds your hands held themselves to close to the roses and a thorn etched itself into your skin. You raised your hand in the air, shaking it as a response to the sting but kept attending to the weeds. As if the deep cut signaled an acceptance to the scratched pain you continued aggressively, ignoring the thorns that kept digging into your skin. After creating a large hole you found the base of the plant. Tugging at it, you remembered when you were younger and had reached what you wanted to plant those white flowers.

When you had placed the small flowers and could feel something else aside from yourself move in the earth.

You patted the soil on top, closing the hole at the bottom of the roses and could still feel the rumbling and small vibration of something definitely moving through. For a closer look you leaned in to see the soil break, revealing a set of fingers. A hand reached out and grabbed your own hand which resided by the flowers. You screamed out, falling back at the horror with your heart racing in your ears.

You tore the weed from the soil and tossed it to the side, panting. You reached back but instead of your skin catching itself in its thorns the fabric of your sleeve held you back. You tugged and pulled at the roses until the same hand grabbed your wrist, it's flesh as cold as ice. Frantically you shook your arm but the hand pulled you in. Through the thorns, deep into the bush you were forced to see a face emerge out. Her eyes opened and you screamed again, freeing yourself and falling back onto someone else.

"Y/N!"

You stared at the face melting back into the rose bush as the murder's wings above head sounded almost directly beside you. In a distance, your name was called out again but the piercing dazed eyes of the bush stared back. Holding an opaque blue, you could see a slow movement of smoke dancing within them. The face sank in slowly and the thorns dragged on its skin drawing the deepest blood you have seen.

"Y/N" the maid called out again, grabbing at you arm and pulling you up. "Y/N you damn wench pay attention to me! Can't you hear me?" She dragged you to your feet and slapped your arm repeatedly, but as you were still in shock you paid no attention until she slapped you across your face.

The world fell silent once the slap of her hand grazed across your face with an echo. You could feel the gaze of the other maids working in the garden. From where the maid had hit you a stinging sensation arose. She held onto both of your arms but what she proceeded yelling at you was unclear. Your ears rang and the maid began to shake you. Before she could say anymore and react to your silent response you pushed her back. As she walked back to you with another raised hand you pushed her again with a following punch.

Now your knuckles stung and the world began to make a sound again. The ringing in your ears was slowly replaced with the yells of the other workers. The maid who stood with the one you had hit rushed up to you before you could continue to fight the one on the ground. She looked up at you with a snarl and pulled herself up. The maid intervening stood in front of you with her hands raised in protest. 

"Y/N" she called out as you tried to catch your breath. "Y/N, we needed you with the king!" As the other maids helped the one on the ground, with you, they stopped at the mention. "We need more help within the castle and need to have a conversation before an announcement was made. You weren't responding, you never  answer to Amelie. What is wrong with you?"

"She hit me."

"Because you were dreaming off again and scaring everyone. I understand you're strange, all the maids do, but Amelie is bleeding, look at your hand!" The maid grabbed the wrist of your aching hand before tossing it to the side. You looked around you and the entire garden had their eyes locked. You began to protest shakingliy with the staggered murmurs of "but " as you tried to recollect yourself.

Looking at your hands again in a confused daze you gained an odd sense of familiarity, not of the situation, but of the sight of blood on your hands.

They've hit you before, you acknowledge now. A forgotten history of some ill treatment.

You wiped your hands on your gown, hiding the stains of blood in its brown color.

"What does the king want?" You asked.

Amelie stood in front of you, annoyed and in pain. The other maids tended back to their business,  lending one ear out in case of anymore drama.

"There's plans for a celebration for the upcoming harvest. All the maids are to be involved but for the time being just a few. You, are needed to give updates about the madam."  She began leading the way down the wall of your work space to the second set of stairs in the area, parallel to the scientist's end of the hall way.

"I spoke out about how I've shared some of the care for our beloved madam but they still wish for you to be present."

Amelie groaned as the second maid assisted her up the stairs.

"I've mention that I've assisted myself, but there's more to it."

As you entered down a small hall that still held an outlook to the garden you were previously in, the three of you entered the castle officially once passing three smaller steps and the entrance of a gated door. The harshness of the grey light lit up the acoustic halls, emphasized by the echoing steps, as the grey light poured in similarly to the way rays of sun do without the golden colour. Inside this little bit of the castle the cold air trailed along behind you from the gated door. Now out sight or ear range from the others the second maid turned back at you for a quick look.

"We need a report from the doctor."

"And as you've been so kind to relieve the burden of stepping in his deranged space you can understand why we're turning to you-"

"As you fancy him and all," Amelie slapped the girl's shoulder with a laugh of her own. "Don't be so cruel," she insisted as you responded with an uncertain chuckle of your own while recollecting the encounters in your head.

You remembered the first instance you've seen him and how you felt. There was soft curiosity dwindling in the background until you had heard the miss matched steps of his missing leg. Your heart beat began pounding against your chest with an intensity that only rose when hearing the rejection from others. How carelessly they dismissed him as a character in a story told to scare one another. He presented an opportunity to really push the kingdom forward with time and the anger he possessed infested yourself. A passionate anger which correlated with appropriately attractive sharp features.

The curious thought of whether or not what the maids had said was right followed you throughout the castle as they continued to explain other preparation details until eventually they conversed amongst themselves only. With yourself outside of the conversation you  pondered on the idea until it was interrupted by the thundering bellied laugh of the king. You had known you had returned to the throne room where you had first seen the scientist when you heard the king and felt a busied energy that breathed life then what actually stood.  As you wouldn't converse with the king directly, you and the two other maids walked along the scene's edge to a man in dark brown clothing standing in the corner with a scrolled book at hand.

"Wynston, Y/N as requested."

"Ah yes, thank you," he read through his book again. You scanned the man again taking in his appearance, dark hair and beard, tidy brown fabrics, and polished shoes. He was of thicker stature, built surprisingly of muscle and fat that may be better fitted or common with the knights. Especially those of tired experience. Never once had you been this close to the man or address directly with importance, but due to your age it had been a matter of time for you to be brought up more. Still this, you betted, would be the minim of involvement.

"How is Mina progressing with her illness?" You eye the two maids. Amelie scowled.

"Slowly."  You responded.

"I assumed Jamison is not needed if you have control over it and the housemai-"

"Jamison?"

"Yes, Jamison."

The man continued his dialogue about the elder maid and a usual routine expected to take place to care for her until a dire instant calls to grab the scientist who now had a name.

'Jamison ' you thought, awe founded.

"For the harvest there'll be guests from a far staying in the company of his majesty so a division among the maids will be needed as well as isolation from Mina and those caring for her. I originally placed you three with Aria in care for Mina, but I can switch the positions between Aria and Amelie around," he turned to her, ripping a page from his book. "I'll have you in charge with Aria in creating some of the division amongst the appropriate classes. For now here is what I have arranged, tweak as fit."

"Y/N remains with Mina." Amelie spoke aloud as if to offend you secretly by keeping you at a distant from the party.

"Yes that's what I have written." Wynston reassured while distracted by another in need of his attention. "Y/N before its forgotten, what are the details with Mina?"

"Fever remains but she regained some colour. Can't actually tell if she's better at first glance,"

"Good. I'll need a report,"

"The girls informed me." You spoke out now with an internal desperation to see the scientist again.

"Then I'll leave you to your duties then and have you continue with the plans."

Wynston left the three of you and you followed the maids around as they discussed the given sheet of paper. You had half expected to remain with the sick maid and distant from the event as Amelie knew of your one incident with the stairs and mysterious guest. She had poked fun of you multiple times before after finding you pale and shaking. Then you thought back about the scientist's remark about the maids.

"Y/N, I don't believe Mina has received her turn of medicine. I was left to track that as Aria went to town. She said to mix the medicine with a soup as a trick remedy to lessen the taste."

You nodded and parted ways, relief to be alone and process what you had learned. You felt a strange disconnection almost always throughout your life in a comforting sense. A feeling of displacement but passing peace where moments like this, knowing his name as if it was a dark secret, grounded you. This state of mind drove you back into the throne room where the king still laughed with his order of chivalry; made out of a woman quiet liked by the kingdom, her father (the shortest person you may have ever seen) charged with constructing knights armour and weapons, and a male, age shown by his greying hair.

Heading through Wynston's exit you found yourself by the extended hall of rooms, armoury, and library just before the stairs of terror to the kitchen. You paused for a moment, peaking your head in to an empty labyrinth of books.

'Jamison' you thought.

You knew the library held a record of names to every soul that made up the kingdom. An archive of dates and ends, and locations of homes too. Maneuvering you're way through, you reached some wooden tables centred in the middle of the numerous shelves that exceeded your height. Three of them stood as two sectioned off to the side for privacy with crafted chairs waiting to seat you. On the third table, furthest from you and leading to the back of library, laid a book already open for your viewing and a chair pushed to the side. Unknown to yourself the scientist you were searching for had scurried moments prior before you could've caught sight of him. Though you hadn't known then that he was, there a suspicion which arose as you sat down and sworn to hear some movement behind the shelves away from you.

Turning the pages of the book you began reading the listed names. You expected all names were truly of belonging of those outside the walls as the only ones you could recognize were of those you encounter regularly, both personally and through others. Passing through the pages the order of chivalry caught your eyes:

'Brigitte, Torbjorn, Jack...'

Then the listed names of the maids:

‘Mina, Aria, Amelie, Lena, Hana ..."

Strangely as you reached the end of the list of recorded maids you noticed that you're  name wasn't listed.

You continued to turned the next page, eyebrow raised. The kitchen staff were listed, gardeners, outside help, all but yourself. As you examined the book closer you noted 'Jamison Junkenstein' wasn't listed amongst the villagers either. Turning the final pages, past a space saved for new birth, you came across you're own name imprinted on a thinner page separated from the rest by the remains of a ripped page.

Your first name was written in a different style of cursive , alone, with a start date and frighteningly an end date.

'Y/N……….1204-1209’

Stepping away in bewildered confusion, you heard the sound of a book falling on the carpeted ground. Turning behind you saw that there was nothing there and returned to the book. About two other thin pages proceeded the one with your name but they were left blank with no other name to read.

1204-1209

Another thump in the library caused you to snap back behind you to see the source of the sound. The aisle behind you again laid empty. Another sound and you froze, waiting to hear what would come next. Slowly, you made your way to the back and aisle beside your left and there laid a book fallen on the ground.

Picking it up, it read of some farm land on the outskirts of the village outside of the castle. You placed the book back in it's vacant spot on the shelf and walked to the next aisle where another book laid. As you stretched back up from retrieving the book you saw a glimpse of white and finally heard the muffle sounds of miss matched steps. With eyes wide of realization you ran in the same direction it fled. Each end you've reached you seen the same white turn the corner and raced to catch up.

"Jamison?" You called out. Your heart began to run down each aisle of books as they grew longer. "Jamison?" You called out again and the muffled steps stopped. You found yourself lost in a labyrinth of books. Not once did you come across the table again and as you looked around you realized you have lost your complete sense of direction. Walking down one more aisle the sound of steps and fabric rubbing against itself picked up and this time you caught the glimpse of the scientist's purple glove as he ran off. Out in a sprint you fought to catch up, calling out his name repeatedly. With one last push you turned one final corner and could hear the man's breathing, even a giggle of sorts. But as you sped around the corner you met the ends of two shelves and a blank wall. Dr. Junkenstien was gone.

The library untwisted itself and you found yourself not far from where you started. The book still laid open but away from your name and at the end of the chivalry's list, now short due to a newly ripped page. You grabbed the book and proceeded to place it back into a vacant spot on the shelf where another one, above the shelf you had placed your book, stood. Wether or not Junkenstien had taken it was a mystery to you as you would've heard his steps behind you from the table if he had.

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                You thought about the library while gazing into the bowl of soup back in the maid chambers as your patient laid fast asleep, a bit of her spit still sliding it's way down your cheek.

How was it possible to have been lost so suddenly and out of breathe despite moving a few feet away from the book?

You were sure you had seen the scientist too.

This curious thought continued as you tried to sleep. Turned to your side you brain ache to solve the mess you had found. Your name was missing as part of the maids. If it had been scribed it should've been with a last name you've never heard of or the name attached to your estranged mother. Similar to Aria, a daughter also taken instead of birthed. Her's was written with the same ends of Mina.

Still, your name remained alone. There was something about each letter on the page that resonated with you.

It is your name.

You turned to your other side, facing away from the other maids. While staring at the wall you tried to remember your childhood within the castle walls and with time your eyes began to grow heavy. You could hear and feel the beat of your own heart, and the deep breathes of the other women in the room. You could hear the candle left by the empty soup bowl and the wind just outside. With enough effort you could even hear footsteps approaching the room,  and on que, through the darkness and with your squinted eyes, you could see some movement at the bottom of the wall.

Little bits of stone fell out of place to reveal a small tuff of white fur. A rat squeaked it's way out and smelt the air, scurrying off in the dark and leaving you with a smile. You pondered at the newly made hole and returned to the question from before, coming to a conclusion that maybe you do fancy the scientist after all.

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Part Four

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Your steps echoed against the cold brick as you made your journey back to the maid quarters. Remembering the slanted step from before, you jumped up the un-even path and glared at the bottle. The murky green glass held a dark liquid that seem to stain the inside of the glass as you swirled it. Your hand chilled as it held the bottle, and the chill it's sent down your spine indicated it was kept somewhere cold and perhaps dark. The hair on your arms began to stand and a wave of subtle paranoia took over you.

Something was watching you.

You stopped and glanced behind you to see a shadowed figure in the dark. Your heart seemed to stop as the figure stood there growing more menacingly . A cold sensation began to creep its way on your flesh. Goosebumps covered your skin as air felt to slowly escape your lungs. However, before you were fully engulfed with a sense panic your brain dismissed the figure. In a sense of adrenaline you couldn't see it despite knowing it was the there.

Suddenly, an awful presence drew your attention down the hall on your right. Darkness surrounded the set of stairs that greeted you at the end of it. That's when you realized where you stood. A little fork in the castle. A path you struggled to go down when you were a child and unknowingly avoided to this day.

You had collected the trays from a visitors room that night, where a kind women invited by the king was staying. Her hair was as golden as the sun and her skin white as winter, giving her a radiate glow the first time you saw her. However, after seeing her once you had only seen two other times. Once returning from the king's quarters and once through the crack of the door to her room. She had handed you a tray and smiled at you through the small space before sending you off to the kitchen without a word.

Walking down those stone steps is where that night became less enjoyable and from then on a chain of similar events began.

Your feet as child barley made a sound against the cold stone. You focused on balancing fragile cups and plates in the tray which often clinked against the silver metal. Behind you, someone's steps echoed down. As routine you moved to the side to allow space for the person behind you. You waited  for them to past but no one did. Puzzled, you looked behind you and the stairs were emptying and dimly lit by the torch at the top. When you continued down again the steps behind you returned. You looked up again to find that the stairs remained empty.  Yours hands tightened around the tray as you quickly ran down and reached the end of stairs. Every hair on your neck rose to their ends and you could feel your small frame tremble in fear before the last step.

You looked up once more.

Waiting for you was the visitor barely peaking around the corner of the top step with the same smile on her face. You turned back quickly, forgetting the last step and facing a dark figure like the one you have just seen in the present, before falling forward and breaking what was in the tray.

You remember crying that night against the wall as a maid scolded you and another cleaned up your mess. You tucked in your knees as close as you could to your chest trying to explain what had happened over and over again until the older maid struck you across the cheek and grabbed you by your hair.

You remember Madame did nothing to sooth you.

You turned the bottle to its poorly written label and glared down with rage. You remembered the sting on your face after being hit and the words excusing your feelings from the one who should've cared the most. You ripped off the label and rubbed the glue clean off the glass.

The kitchen stood still as you passed it. The mess from the rats earlier had been cleaned and everything stood in place. A small rat squeaked by your foot and you left back to your quarters with the small rat following you.

As you got to the quarters you waited outside the door as your thoughts stirred.

Before you could open the door the maid from the kitchen opened it, sending your small friend squeaking away. Her brown hair was pulled back under her bonnet as her apron on top of her brown dress was covered with flour and stains.

"Good to see you survived visiting that estranged man." She greeted you with a sad excuse of a smile and lead your way in to where the eldest maid laid. The room grew dim as the sun began to set, blessing the room with soft rays of light and dust.

"Yes..." you began, ignoring her comment, "he was quite-"

"Rude?"

You bit your tongue and mumbled under your breath.

"...interesting is what I was going to say." 

"What did he do? Bark at you? Glared at you?" You stared down the back of her head. Hate was a familiar emotion with her. She wasn't part of the eldest group of maids but was part of those expected to take charge once the elders before her died, therefore leaving her treated better amongst the rest. She had more control over the staff and to your disliking, respect.

"I wish the king would rid of him already. There's no place for such evil, ill manner..."

You never wish to follow her orders.

"How much did he say to give? Damn bastard didn't leave a label."

You hated each word out her mouth and wished her heart would stop in place.

"I worry Madame's temperature is rising too much."

You wished to pull her hair,

"She was given tea but I'm afraid all that did was put her to sleep. At least she has no rash or spots, nothing too concerning of the past season."

Let out all the pain she had given you and disgust you held inside,

"How much should she be given? She would've had soup but those filthy rats..."

Spit on her,

"The king has an event arising in the future so you and I, or anyone free if need be, will attend to her care. Do you understand me? Y/N? How much medicine should she be given?"

And strike her across her face as she did to you.

"Y/N! You stupid churl, no wonder you were hedge-born, your stupid ears don't work. I won't ask this again. How much medicine should she be given?"

"A spoonful, should be enough."

The maid turned away with the bottle and gently shook the eldest awake. You glared at her before the Madame awoke with a slight cough. She went ahead and poured the brown liquid into a wood spoon as you prop the old lady up with a pillow.

She sipped the medicine and winced at the taste.

"Not the most delicious thing I've had," she said and the other maid chuckled. As she tucked the old Madame back to bed, you placed the bottle on the scratched up wooden table beside you. The liquid stilled in the soft light through the window where the moon in the sky was quick on its way. You said left them to talk as you resumed to the other chores  before nightfall but while taking a moment to yourself, reliving the anger, you noticed through the dark, right before a right turn, a white lab coat heading down a hall with a staircase at its end.