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toiletwipes · 2 years

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MONSTER/PRISONER • DAY ONE OF KINKTOBER

Summary: To heal a murderous beast only for them to execute said beast... these times are not only hard but confusing as well. Good thing you'll be rewarded generously, right? Right?

Word Count: ~14.6k words

Character: Wilbur Soot

Warnings: I romanticized the shit out of this situation, so its probably not realistic. Also I did no research. Take this as you will with like a pinch of salt. Also sex and brief violence. Me thinking I can be funny. friends to strangers to one night stand to the only person you can literally be around. :) (also if i remember right, i do not think we fuck wilbur as a beast so maybe i could post that for the actual first day.)

Kinktober Masterlist

tag list: @oyakuya @ruminationnn @despicablenotions @grrrlsagainsthumanity @wolfie-doggo @boiled-onionrings @struggling-with-time @midnighthasstruck @modx-reborn

Being a child of a nurse did you many favors, born under a watchful eye with medicine as her witness, you were the picture of health. However, being your mother did not pay her, so taking you into a Lord's castle was her only choice, lest she let you out into the filthy world of bacteria and illness.

You worked with her, as best as you could, and though you were but a child, you were introduced to many things.

One, you met the Lord of this castle, the one overseeing the region between two distant rivers. And though in the summer, it was a place of beauty, it's a monster in the harsh winter. The castle was carved into the singular mountain dividing the rivers in the first place. The harsh winters brought sickness into the castle.

Sickness to your boss.

He coughed something ugly into a handkerchief, and your mother, ever the healer, stayed beside him with you behind her, holding the bowl of warm water. You'd watch her dip the water in and squeeze it out, looking her in the eyes as she told you something quiet, your eyes peering around her figure, looking at the man with golden hair splayed around his pillow. Covered in thick, lavish blankets. When she turned around, his eyes opened and you couldn't even think when they caught your gaze. When he grips her wrist weakly, muttering something to her you couldn't hear, she nods and guides you to place all of her things into the bag.

She doesn't explain much, only that it's important that they're quick. She's ushering you through many flights of stairs, and if you had to guess, it was to the top of the tower, the one on the left. The one tucked closer behind the actual castle, between the mountain.

When she opens the door, she tells you to bow, to show respect. Like you'd done with the Lord, except instead of a lord, when you peaked at the lump barely covered in anything, there lay a child. Not much older than you.

His hair sticks to his head with sweat and his limbs are bound to the poles of the bed, his body sporadically thrashing in sleep.

"Child, do what I did with Lord Craft, tend to him." And though you'd been less than eager to tend to a patient that clearly was more than ill, looked as though he'd been cursed by a witch, you walk over to him, patting and smoothing the fabric of your own apron. He didn't look any different than the kids in your town, save for the rope and clear signs of something medically serious. He looked... normal.

Sort of.

You fill your own bowl up, pouring it in with an unsteady hand and painfully aware of your mother's piercing stare. The towel dipped and squeezed, you leaned on your toes to try to reach for his forehead, a gasp left you as his body jerked away, sitting up as best he could restrained, frantic eyes glancing between you and your mother. "Who- who are you people, who sent you?" He asks, his accent unlike his father's, shoulders bunching together as he tugged at his restraints.

"I'm your nurse," you blurted out, and he looked taken aback. His eyes look you over, a small but healthy child, with the older and actual nurse standing against the back wall, and he just barely relaxes. His muscles release tension and his shoulders sag downwards. "Now if you'll lie back down," you press down on his bed, nearly kneeling on it to push one of his shoulders down. His shock makes him easy to move, despite hearing your mother's soft call to stop. To leave the boy be.

"Why are you my nurse, shouldn't it be her?" He asks, clearly as confused as you are. But for you, you weren't allowed the same curiosity.

Yet your mouth opened faster than you could think of the consequences, "why are you my patient?" Making eye contact, you wipe his forehead from the matted hair, cleaning off his face as well. Your mother's stern voice curses, reaching your side and pulling your arm away from him.

"I am so sorry for her lack of manners, sir, Lord Wilbur, we'll excuse ourselves."

And as she turns the two of you, after forcing you to bow once more, her fingers dig into your shoulders, guiding you to the door, when his voice cracks as he calls for you.

"Don't leave!" You instinctively turn to look at him while your mother stills in shock. He doesn't make eye contact but he continues. "Please." His head turns and you recognize the look in his eyes.

He's lonely.

"I'll behave myself, I promise." You try to whisper to your mother but her grip loosens up already, letting you move back to his side.

"I won't leave you until you're cured, I promise." You try to say as quietly as you could to him and though he looked like he was in pain, he smiled. It was an ugly, sad smile. You'd never forget it.

Wilbur, the Lord's cursed son, would never be cured as it turned out to be.

You remember being in the room at his request, close to the wall with your head down as you listened to the healing mage explain to both his father and him that whatever he had, it was dormant for now but he was more than likely going to have this illness for the rest of his life.

As everyone trickled out of the room, his father gave you a glance as he closed the door behind him.

"I'm never getting better." His words choke out of his mouth, tears trailing down the sides of his face, and you could feel your heart break.

It'd been several years since you first met him and to see him come this far just to be told it'd never go away, it must've been so terrifying.

Especially since they had no idea what it was. That was probably the second-worst part. He'd always be sick and he'd die never knowing why.

That is if they had kept him.

You remember the last night you saw him as a kid, it'd been your fourteenth birthday, right before his fifteenth, and you had brought your favorite book into the castle to share with him. He'd so graciously helped with your reading ability, and not that your mother didn't want you to or couldn't, she found it easier to teach you by ear than by the texts. And soon, when you had the time and money, you borrowed books from your neighbor, Miss Alyssa.

They offered solace for the both of you, with Wilbur reading every book in the castle's library twice and you who'd only cared for the equally new adventure it brought. Reading. With the Lord's son.

Your mother had other patients so she often left you alone and though he'd usually have guards with him in the room, he asked if they'd only stay outside with the ability to check in on the two.

They did, every so often, but it gave the two of you privacy neither had quite appreciated more.

You brought the book in with you, pulling it out from one of your pockets to find Wilbur sitting on his bed, rubbing at his appendages. The ones that no longer had any restraints on them.

Your mouth dropped open, running towards the bed as you dropped the book on top of the covers and gingerly took his wrists in your hands, turning them over. They only had scarring from the usage over the years but... they appeared to be fine.

"Why— why did they take them off?" They never took them off, only loosening the grip to clean the skin underneath but never actually taking off.

He doesn't look at you.

"They said I'm going away to my mother's estate where they have better healers, better clergies, better... everything."

His hair wasn't as soaked in sweat and it was actually somewhat curly, and deep inside of you, you wanted to touch it.

"I can't go with you, can I?" His gaze turns to you and one of his hands removes itself from your grasp, only to hold your own. A lump formed in your throat as he told you that you'd be staying with your mother, to replace her in the future when she either retired or died.

"I'll send letters every day so you can't forget me." He laughed, and it was a beautiful sound, his laugh. You wanted to put it in a bottle and hide it away from everyone else. You wanted it to yourself. The Lord's son's laugh. You'd keep it only in the prettiest of the jars.

"Promise you will too." His laughter ceased slowly, watching you with careful eyes as you didn't laugh, as you cried before him.

"I'll write two letters every day." He squeezes your hand, and you smile through the tears, through the blurred vision. Even with your eyes blinded by the tears, he was still the prettiest boy you'd ever seen.

The rest of the day, you read the book with him. All around his room, by the windows, in front of the door, mostly on his bed. He let you on his bed, just for a few minutes. ("You've taken care of me and stayed, it's the least I can do." As if his friendship wasn't the greatest thing he'd ever handed you. You'd like to think it was friendship, at the very least.

Not every patient kisses their nurse on the back of their wrist when they leave.

"I shall hope to see you in the next life, dear." And after the door closed behind you, your mother was waiting with a handkerchief of her own, dabbing at your face as she guided you home, away from the castle.

"Lord Craft was ever so kind to let us leave our duties early, said something about the rain to come in the night." Hearing about the weather made your heart race with panic, would Wilbur survive the trip to his mother? A hand grasps at the front of your sleep shirt, trying to still your heart, trying to reach in with a clawed hand and beg it to leave you alone, to stop thinking about what could have been and what will be.

What Wilbur would look like in the future and if he'd live long enough to be seen so.

Your mother tells you goodnight just as the first rain droplet hits your roof, belly full of food and eyes heavy with exhaustion, but you couldn't help it. You watched outside of your window as the rain poured and in the distance, the castle. You hope that Wilbur makes it.

The next time you saw Wilbur was about ten years after he left.

During the years he was gone, you had made excellent progress with your literacy, scanning books over medical and fantastical texts alike. Lord Craft had deemed you well trained, behaved, and thoroughly educated. He offered you a more permanent position in his staff, your own supplies and even more access to the castle's library. Even a room should you need to stay overnight.

You accepted all of it.

Your mother was less than impressed.

Something about how she wanted more for you, how she wanted you to be able to travel the world and see what it has to offer you. But you didn't need what the world had, you only wanted what was left of the time you had with her. They were numbered and when the days grow longer, she grows weaker. It was her unfortunate truth.

Lord Craft arranged for a comfortable last few days for her, offering her a bed with expensive sheets and soft pillows. Your mother always asked for you to lay with her as often as you could. It took strength to hold in your sobs every night you had with her in that elegant room. The best doctor they found, he offered you much of his sympathy. Nothing else he could do.

And on her last day, you read to her the very same book you read with Wilbur. You read to her as best as you could, but before you reached halfway, she had already moved on.

Your mother died a few years before the guards had arrested something quite... strange.

Ten years since you last saw Wilbur, three years since you buried your mother, and one week into the new prisoner's stay here at the castle, the Lord summoned you.

The discussion took hours, none of it being your fault entirely. You had your concerns but the Lord's advisors had much to say about giving such care to a prisoner. One that was responsible for a village's destruction.

Your concerns being that of course, what if it got too close and you were injured? You wouldn't be able to treat yourself entirely. And then of course, yes, you weren't sure if you wanted to treat a murderer.

Craft was resolved, however. Steadfast that in order for the village to receive true justice, the one responsible must heal and then it would be executed. Justice properly delivered.

You didn't know how to feel about that, but after forcing the rest of the room to leave, he had told you that no matter what, you should never speak to the creature, that you should only treat its wounds and leave as soon as possible. It's possible that whatever it is, it can be passed on. Whether through blood or spit, he didn't want to risk it.

"Just do your job well and be done with it, I will make sure you are paid handsomely. Could even take the trip your mother wanted for you." Hearing the last part, of course, added to it sweetly.

You nodded.

When you were being led down to the holding cells, the guards offered no support, no words of empathy. Or even gruesome stories about the wretched beast.

Only silence welcomed you.

No matter. You were more than used to it.

Until you reached the bottom of the stairs and the lamps hanging from the short wall, well, they did very little to hide the monster.

Your breath catches in your throat and though there are bars separating the two of you, the hairs on your skin stand up.

One guard has a hand on your elbow, the other unlocks the door. "If you need to leave, shout for us." They say under their breath before you're nudged rather roughly to enter the cell.

It's damp, it's repulsive, and you find that if there wasn't a giant monster in the way of it all, it still would be a cramped space.

And speaking of Mister Monster, its a big thing of matted fur. It looked to be curled into its side, body heaving with stuttered breathing, and you figure its got a few broken ribs. And depending on how fast it heals, you could be well out of town before the spring rolled around.

That's when it hears you, heart beating something wild, you were sure you could hear the sound of your rushing blood past your ears. It hears you panic and before anything, its head barely lifts up.

You can see the unbothered eyes, the way it barely acknowledged your existence. “Its been sedated, work as fast as you can and you should be fine.” One guard says but decidedly locks you in there with it.

You try to control your breathing, deep inhales and shaky exhales, despite this being your scariest patient yet… its still your patient.

Taking quick steps towards it, you tentatively reach a hand out, wondering if the sedatives were enough to keep it calm for you to be able to look for any wounds.

“One of the guards had nicked it towards the stomach, I would be careful checking around there.” Oh, thank you for your input, guard who’s ten times more likely not to get bit if your hand went digging around the injured stomach area.

You inhale sharply before you reach a hand into its fur, and as you do, it makes eye contact, and there’s a low rumbling vibration emitting from it. You don’t know what the monster means by it but you’re sure if it wanted you dead, it probably would’ve done something by now.

You rake your fingers through the fur, beginning a little hum, trying to distract yourself and hopefully help soothe the beast.

Its head settles down.

“Hello there, erm,” there’d been no name for the murderous thing, however, being kind and slow is a precaution that could only help, and it had turned its head to look at you, its eyes incredibly big and round and… soft. Like a baby’s. Taming that part of you that wanted to soothe this creature, take care of it, shield it from harm. You actually stomped it out. Internally of course.

“I’m here to help you heal, so I’ll need to take a look at your stomach.” Its ears perked up and immediately went to the back of its head.

And at this point, it’s safe to say that whatever it was, it resembled a cross between a bear and a wolf. Dastardly heartbreaking with the big eyes and the whine that singed the air.

“I know, it’s not ideal, but please, if you can, turn onto your back.” You step back a little and its head tilts towards you when you stop combing your fingers through its fur. Reaching into your bag for a pair of glasses, one that was supposed to help you look for injuries better, you wait for it to move.

It doesn’t move.

In fact, the beast curls into itself even more, whining and probably unwilling to bare its stomach to you, probably not helping that there are guards here who remind it of the whole reason for the wound.

“Please, I promise to make it quick!” You whisper, trying not to glance behind, the guards might not only agitate it further, but also endanger you just as quickly and this whole will have to be called off. “Please, turn on your back.” It doesn’t move.

Biting your lip, you turn your head and they’re immediately moving towards the gate but you swing your arm out, shaking your palm. You need to try to move it without the help of them. Sorry boys, not sorry.

You reach into its fur again, using both hands to knead into its skin. Little tension releases but there’s enough. You keep massaging the skin, every now and again reaching downwards, with the way its body is positioned you were almost certain you could take a peak at its stomach, if anything just to confirm if there is an injury there or not.

Its eyes always followed your hands and as they reached the main area, the supposed injured area, its skin tensed and a very low, although lazy, growl rattled inside of your ears. Bells are ringing through your head, saying you should stop, move your hands before you lose them. But you needed to find it. You needed to heal it. You needed to heal it to inadvertently kill it in the end. It’s what that village deserves in the end.

You sent warning glances of your own to the beast, commanding it to take it easy. And just like you, it disregarded the warnings sent its way.

“Alright, that’s enough excitement for today,” the guard closest to the lock started fiddling with the keys but just as the door flung open and they reached for your body, the beast let out something pitiful, akin to a pained scream, as you pressed your hands right into the stab wound. Teeth snap at empty air as you are snatched away from the beast, hands red as you’re unable to process how fast the guards move you. You’re out of the cell and safely away, the door locked and the other guard is gripping you by the shoulders.

The three of you leave the agitated monster to sulk, licking at its wound as you ascend towards the common area of the castle. The guards don’t say anything as you retreat to your room, scraping the bits of already drying blood into one of those tiny jars. After wrapping a cover over the jar, you pick up some extra books that may be helpful and you head over to the mages’ wing, and hopefully, come out of it with a salve.

It wasn’t a whole wing, more along the lines that it was two or three bedrooms for the mages and they made it work. And when you presented it to the one who did most of the healing magic in the castle, he had an interesting reaction.

“Fresh? You got this fresh off your hands?” He asked, eyes glancing towards you as he took the flakes of dried blood towards his set up next to his bed. (You once asked if it was safe, sitting on his bed and sharing a bottle of something expensive he had slipped from the Lord’s own personal collection, if it was safe to sleep next to constantly changing chemicals and elements and of course the residue left from magic research. He shrugged.)

“Yeah, that won’t taint the sample, will it?” You ask, more than comfortable with standing against a wall away from the table of open beakers and a variety of scattered ingredients.

“Hardly, but you mean to tell me that you touched the damned thing?” He scrapes about half of the blood into a mix, a cloud of smoke slowly funneling out of the container. You’re hesitant to even be in the same room but his sister comes in and she’s immediately investigating what he’s currently getting up to.

He wasn’t exactly known for reasonable and practical methods of magic. A little bit like those mad scientists in the books you’d read with Wilbur, absolutely out there. But that’s exactly why you went to him instead of staying in your room and freshening up your knowledge about the abnormal beasts in this world and their biological make up.

Well, you brought your books with you so you could do it here while your unpredictable mage worked, heh, his magic.

And after his sister left him be, and you finished one of the two books you brought with you, he presents you his own pretty vial of a glowing liquid. “If you can touch him, maybe you’ll be lucky to get this in him.” He hurries to clean up his station, and by cleaning, he means leaning a hand out of a window with each jar in it, washing it with the rain pouring outside. You’re more so distracted with the vial. Worries bubble inside of you.

“Inside of him, meaning I have to get him to drink it?” And this mage, Ant, doesn't stop moving, shaking his hands from the liquid and you groan as droplets flick into your eyeballs.

“Well, you could always pour it over his open injury, which it would work, but I think you want something all encompassing.” He shrugs off his coat, loosening a tie. Another mage walks in, this time with an arm full of vials and cups and jars full of concerning material, his eyes follow him. “And if you want to feel up the poor bastard a second time, be my guest, want my advice though? Just get him to drink it and get it over with.” He moves to follow the struggling mage and dismisses himself from the conversation.

You sigh, rubbing a palm over your forehead, looking as the liquid glows and sparkles in the dim light. It was pretty at least.

“Why don’t you wait for tomorrow? I feel it would be safer then,” Craft says, glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he barely looked up from his novel, and though he was of high importance, he never seemed to run out of free time to read. Lucky man.

You lick your lips, mouth drying as you try to think of a reasonable answer. “Well, my Lord, I fear it might get infected if we wait any longer.” Very meek, will be dismissed in a second.

Then the strangest thing happened, Lord Craft sat up, biting his lips as he took off his glasses. “Infected? And you’re sure about this?” Justice must be very important to Craft, because you haven’t seen him this concerned since Wilbur lived here. You nod. He heaves a heavy sigh, “very well, go on then, make sure you have two guards with you, we need him alive and healthy.” And then he struggled to say the last few words. “For his execution.”

… he?

“Sorry, he, my Lord?” You looked at him, sure, if you had felt the beast up a little more you might’ve found the reproductive organs but you remember your first monster. A monster with none of that. Still, not everyone is like the first.

“Indeed, he’s a man. A murderer and a beast, but a man all the same.”

Nodding, you excuse yourself, brows scrunched in confusion as you head over to where the guards you knew, you knew they’d be in the courtyard.

Now they weren’t the same ones before. The ones before had taken part in stopping him before he moved onto the next town over. These guys were your friends growing up, and because your mother had been favored by the Lord over and over again, some of the other kids of the staff didn’t take too kindly to you being there. They were the ones who stepped up and shielded you from any harm.

Though this meant they were more than likely going to stop you from going anywhere near- near…

Near his mouth.

Humanizing him had been a bad idea, because for you, you could pretend that the beast who killed was deranged, out of control and that you could heal it and move on. Maybe avoid the actual execution but regardless.

You didn’t know if you could just move on from him. Curses weren’t your area, far from it, but if you could get with Ant, maybe he had a chance. Though… what good would it do? Being cured? He’d still be executed.

You reach out, palm covering the cold walls as you turn your eyes away from the steps below you, nausea washed over you. The mere thought of his execution is too much. Finding out he was human in the end, did nothing but worsen your situation.

You sigh as Michael turns towards you, about to ask if you were okay but you kept moving. This needed to be done.

Would this concoction cure him? Your mind thinks to itself as you take the last step, looking at where you last stood. So close to him… your mind flashes to when he looks at you, eyes wide and big and, gah! You cover your face with a hand for a brief moment, he’s a beast, a murderous one at that and you had a job to do.

A patient to heal.

And though your friends, Michael and Connor, were definitely hesitant to even open up the cell and let you in, you told them at the first sign of danger, they had full permission to yank you out of there. But you had a job to do and you needed to get him to drink what Ant had so kindly concocted up for you.

The faster this was done, the faster you could try to forget about this.

They let you in, any conversation died as they kept their eyes on you. You breathe in just as deep as the first time, watching him sleep had slithered anxiety underneath your skin. You needed him awake and you needed every last drop inside of him.

“Hey big guy,” you say, patting the ground, trying to let him know you were here.

His ears perked up and though his eyes opened and saw you, he didn’t move.

He huffed and turned his head to the side.

“I know, I don’t like this either, but,” you breathe in, trying to reign your nerves in, “I need you to take some medicine, can- can you do that?” You ask, reaching in your apron’s pocket, revealing the exceptionally bright vial. A whine emits from him.

“Here,” you uncorked it for him, leaning down to about your knees where his head was, height-wise. You wave it by his nose, and you can see it flare, but you hummed disappointedly. Well, it’s not like he was about to take both of his opposable thumbs, grab it and say down the hatch. It couldn’t hurt to try though, you think to yourself in a flash of bitterness. But you stomp it down. Breathing in again, you brush a hand over his head.

“I’m not here to hurt you, I promise. I only want you to get better.” Several minutes pass by and you decide that in order to get this glowing stuff inside of him, you’d need a better angle. You cork the vial.

Moving your apron, you take a second to sit down, looking over your shoulder to throw a strained smile as they make eye contact. They do not approve of this at all. Not one bit.

Sucks for them, you think as you turn your attention back to the beast at large. He was tense, even more than before but as you continued to scratch at his head, smoothing down his fur, he relaxed. Bit by bit. Even gave you trouble when you moved your hand under his chin and he let his head drop down and lean all his weight on that one.

“Don’t mind me, sir,” you mumble, scratching at his head and biting down on the cork, pulling it off with your teeth. Using your fingers, which, against his very large head, looked like they belong to a child, you pull down his top lip. You nudge his head to lean on your knee as you scratch behind the ear.

You hear your name called from behind you and it scares you how fast the beast’s head had straightened up, looking at you with such wide eyes, ears flattened against his. “Don’t do anything stupid now, he isn’t a lap dog.” Michael called slowly. You nod.

Reaching for his head now, he backed up but you were determined. Your fingers surged forward, pushing down on his lip and tipping the liquid into his mouth. Flinging the vial somewhere, you hold his mouth closed as he thrashes in your grasp. Not hard enough to throw you across the room, still lying down, but absolutely determined to spit it out. You hear the door open but as soon as you feel him swallow in your grasp, you let go, feeling arms drag you out of there.

But the two guards don’t pull you up the stairs, no, along with you, they stare with their mouths gape open as the large beast coughs, hacking something up. Something is spat on the ground and it’s not pretty.

You have that tiny urge in you to scrape some of it up to give to Ant, but you’re too busy watching as after he had coughed whatever it was out of his system, he stumbled to his feet, crashing against the wall. Wails coming out of his mouth as whatever was in Ant’s vial was working its magic. “We need to go,” Michael said as he tugged on your arm but you shake your head. “Don’t be stupid, come on, we have to go.” But you plant your feet in the ground.

“Alright, let’s go.” Connor didn’t waste any time trying to talk you out of it, ignoring your yelp as he heaved you over his shoulder, ignoring whatever you had to say.

“I need to make sure he stabilizes, assholes!” You cry, pounding on the back of his chest plate as he pauses on the staircase.

“You cannot be serious.” Michael said dryly but Connor ignores.

“I’m not, no, of course not.” Connor says but then he drops you to your feet, letting you rush to the bars, “his Nurse is, though.” The two of them have their hands on their weapons, ready to pull it out and defend you but you’re not worried. You’re worried about your patient dying due to an experimental treatment.

And the justice that would be lost.

You watch as he trips over his feet, crumbling into this big pile of fur while something starts to smoke inside the cell. “What the hell…” you say, telling Michael over your shoulder to unlock the cell, and when he doesn't move fast enough, Connor does it for you, letting you go in and blocking the exit. As soon as you’re in, you could see the smoking coming from the actual beast, the ball of fur actually… shrinking too.

You reach a hand out, face scrunching up in confusion as you touch the fur, and the head, oh the head of the beast turns from its spot on the ground and he moans in pain, turning onto its side and then before your eyes, as the body continues to shrink and morph into something familiar, most of the fur sinks into skin. All except for the head.

What you’re left with is a mop of unruly hair belonging to a tall, gangly body. His face is hauntingly familiar.

“Oh fuck, he is human.” Connor decides his best course of action is to run up and go get help. Michael doesn’t leave.

“He’s just a man? I thought he was just a monster.” Michael mumbles to himself, hand very much on the hilt of his sword.

“He’s cursed,” you say, pulling out a rag and tugging the hair from his face, wiping the skin of dirt and sweat. Ant didn’t cure him, he healed any wounds or injuries he had. The curse is set off from inflammation or pain, maybe. Millions of thoughts run through your head as you take his head into your lap.

“What are you doing?” Michael asks and as you skim over his body, you see nothing of concern. No injuries, not even a scratch. Though there are plenty of scars on his back. You bite your lip.

“Taking care of my patient, Michael.”

“You have his head in your lap as if he was a child, and frankly, he isn’t. He’s a man who made a conscious decision to slaughter an entire village. So if you have any pity for him,” his tone had grown harsh and you couldn’t help the flinch in your body, “get rid of it. He’s not going to get the royal treatment just because he turned into a human.”

Michael hears commotion up the stairs so he is very much hesitant to leave your side, but you shove his leg to the side, returning your hands to cradle the head with the rag over his forehead. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

He hurries up the stairs, his curiosity winning over and it’s just you. You do have a slight fear he’ll try to escape but then he’d have to actually get up. And in his current state, although healed, you can’t imagine he didn’t experience any pain during the process. He’s not that much of a threat.

It’s not hard to get lost in his face, so familiar and yet so strange, long brown hair and eyes that flutter open and close constantly, you could barely tell they’re… a nice shade of brown. You could laugh at yourself. A murderer, in your lap, and he has the audacity to have pretty eyes.

Turning your head at the sound of people, you could see Craft rushing towards you and he doesn’t say a word as he lifts the almost limp body up, hands turning him over and finding something awful.

The two of you make eye contact and then he orders for a room to be made. No explanation to anyone else.

Craft asks in a quiet voice if you tell no one what you saw. And you nod, too stunned to think about doing anything else. You wait with him as two other guards lift him up to take the man up the stairs and to a new room.

It’s almost midnight when you find yourself in the room they’d prepared, eyes scanning a book you’d brought with you while you waited for the man to wake up.

You had so many questions. And the stubborn, childish part of you wanted to ask how in the world he had the same birthmark as Wilbur Craft.

You waited for two days and towards the later part of the afternoon where you could see Hannah talking to a woman in the gardens below, he started to talk.

“Where am I?” His voice was incredibly hoarse, but you didn’t answer him immediately, only pouring out a cup of water and holding it up to his mouth. His hair had been pushed back from his forehead, and you could see the confusion in his eyes as he drank from the cup.

“You’re in one of the sick rooms, you know, the room we put our sick people in to heal them better.” You lie, you honestly didn’t want to know if this man is who you think him to be, and it wasn’t a complete lie. You did have a shared area in the castle with other nurses and doctors where the staff could get medicinal help. It just wasn’t this room. Biting on your lip, the words tumble out faster than you could help yourself, “do you know your name?”

His eyes left you, only staring at the fireplace on the other side of the wall as you refilled the cup. “My name is Wilbur.” Your hands freeze as you realize what he’s said. His eyes catch your mistake, looking at the outstretched, frozen movement. “You know me, don’t you?” You don’t have a second to answer that before the door opens to the right of Wilbur, revealing a lone Lord Craft.

He says your name, “it’s a lovely day outside, go enjoy yourself.” Wilbur’s head turned from his father’s face to yours in a flash and his hand reached out, catching your wrist and withholding you from leaving.

Wilbur swipes his tongue across his lip before speaking, “actually, I had asked if they could stay here with me, I’m- I’m feeling faint.”

“You’re not in any position to ask for a lot, Wilbur,” he doesn’t make eye contact with his father. “But we will talk before tomorrow.” The door closes behind Craft and you’re alone with Wilbur.

Wilbur who left you and never sent the two letters like he promised. Wilbur, who acquired a curse and slaughtered an entire village.

The same Wilbur who stares at you now.

“I thought I heard your name when I was- you know, but I couldn’t be sure. Not a lot of things were-” your eyes turn to his fingers still wrapped around your wrist. “Clear.”

His eyes didn’t leave your face even after you had stopped staring at his fingers.

“Say something.” His voice, not as hoarse, but it brought you feelings you didn’t want to think about. Guilt. Frustration. Anger. Sadness overridden it all. You missed him so dearly.

“What happened to those letters you promised? Two a day, wasn’t it?” You muttered, eyes darting away as you didn’t want to think about the ones you’d sent. Did he even read them? His fingers squeeze you in his grasp.

“I swear I meant to-” you try to tug on his grasp, but he continues, even trying to sit up to hold your arm with two hands, “but it was out of my control, they took me hostage, they made- they’re the reason I am what I am.” He grounded out as if he was about to be overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing kind of emotion. You look back for a second and he’s clenching his jaw, tears barely holding their ground in his eyes. “I need you to know it wasn’t my fault.” Your chest aches with the amount of air you’re hardly breathing.

“Wilbur,” you breathe in, eyes darting away as a hand comes to cover his own, not knowing how to react. “I need some air.” Pulling your arm out of his grasp, you don’t hesitate to wipe away from your undereyes, moving around the bed to reach the door but then he begs something of you.

“Promise you’ll come back? Please?” Your breath is caught in the back of your throat and it took everything in you to look back at him, the handle of the door already turned in your hand. But it catches you still. His face. His battered body free from harm and his face that you had loved and dearly missed.

“I… I’m not sure I can.” You wrench the door open and just as swiftly close it behind you, breathing in mouthfuls of air, swallowing as much as you could while walking to your room.

Your vision is blurred as the walls begin spinning and you’re just grateful you made it to the door, even if your hand shook as it unlocked it. And as soon as you’re in, you lock it again, tossing the key onto your desk. Angrily sniffing as your fingers messily undid your apron, taking everything out of your pockets. And when there was nothing to undo, to take away from your person, you toss yourself onto your bed, face buried into your old pillow.

Every part of you trembles as sobs tear through you.

Your patient-turned-best-friend had been kidnapped and tortured and though he probably was conscious for half of the slaughter, he was still himself.

And he would still be executed.

It might even be sped up now, due to the fact Ant’s completely healed him and the beast side of him is gone for now. He would be executed for a crime he could not be blamed for.

It was all so unfair.

The next day Craft had found you in the library, reading something from your childhood. You thought it could’ve brought you comfort. It didn’t.

He had reached with a hand and knocked at the table you’ve sat yourself at. Pulling the glasses off from your face, you frown at seeing the Lord, wondering if you had any other tasks to do.

“Will asked where you had been all day, asked if you would have time to change his bandages?” Your lips flatten into a line, he didn’t have any bandages but if somebody had put them on and he doubted the credibility of the person because of who he is… you wouldn’t put it past someone to somehow poison the actual bandages.

And you never did promise him that you’d be back.

But you don’t hesitate to get up, save your place in the book before silently following Craft to Wilbur’s room.

He leaves the two of you be, asking that you come by his room later to discuss other topics of interest. No doubt why his son is asking for you.

You’re stiff as you ask about the bandages and just like you thought, he had casted his eyes away and his mouth open, croaking a little bit before returning his intense gaze towards you. “There are no bandages.” You’re tempted to leave the room at that but he has something else to say. “Phil told me that I have a few days before I’m executed.” Vision blurs once again, and you’re not entirely sure why.

“It was an entire village.” You mumble to yourself, turning away from him. You turn to the window and cover your mouth, eyes looking everywhere, unable to stay still as your thoughts run faster than you could process.

It wasn’t hard to feel as if the ground had been ripped from underneath you. You couldn’t even have him back for long. You couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

You hear the ruffled movement of covers being moved. And at the last second, you turn and you’re faced with his lanky body overtowering you, arms outstretched. And though your mind screamed to turn away, to push him from you… You missed him too much. You could hardly control the sobs coming out of your mouth as you buried your face into his loose shirt, arms thrown around him and clutch at his skin. His arms don’t hesitate to hold you, arms around your waist and shoulder, pulling you impossibly closer.

“Fuck, I missed you every day, wanted to tell them to turn around, wanted to walk all the way back to you.” He kissed the side of your head and your heart ached hearing him spill the words faster than he could keep it in. “Wanted to tell them no one knew how to take care of me better than my nurse, wanted to say- fucking, anything, to get them to go back.”

“It’s not fair, I- I just got you back.” Your voice cracks towards the end of your sentence as you speak into his chest. No matter the circumstances, you couldn’t hate him. You couldn’t stay away from him.

“I know- I know, I’m so sorry.” He then puts pressure on your shoulder, pushing you gently away from his body. Eyes connect and you wonder if he could feel your broken heart and then you can’t think at all, when he ducks his head, slotting his nose against yours, nearly kissing you, lips barely brushing against each other. You suck in a breath before you press into him, arms thrown around his shoulders and pulling him into you.

His arms, again, wrap around your back, and you can feel each of his fingers press into your clothes, digging to feel you. Time doesn’t pass normally as you could barely breathe, kissing him with all you had. Trying to convey what you felt in the time you had lost with him. Both of you had hands moving over skin, his coming up to rest on each side of your face, pulling away briefly.

“We can’t do this,” you say but he shakes his head.

“You tell me you don’t want to and I won’t touch you again.” You breathe in heavy, eyes falling from his gaze to his lips and when he began to move his hands away, you quickly pressed them back into your face, unwilling to let him go.

“It’s not about if I want it, it’s about how wrong this is. You’ve killed people, Wilbur, you’re going to be executed for your crimes.” Fat tears roll down your cheek and he comes in close to kiss them away. He leans his forehead against yours.

“I’ve made my peace with it, you’ll have to as well.” You didn’t want to.

You didn’t want to make peace with the cruel fact.

“I won’t.” You shook your head.

“No? Then do something about it, but I’m not going to taint our last moments together. Let me do something right, darling.” Oh, the pet name, your knees nearly gave out, oh wait, as one of his arms comes around your waist, you realize they actually did. Okay, that’s a little embarrassing.

Regardless, this is a dead man walking. And you can’t help the way you feel about him. He can’t either.

It’d be much harder to walk away than to see what he had in mind. And you wanted as much time as you could have with him, selfishly.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He repeats, angling your head up, cradling it as he rubbed his thumbs under your eyes, making your stomach flutter. You nod, hands squeezing his own. “Okay,” he murmurs against your lips, pulling you closer to him as he walks backwards.

At the last second, he flips you two, letting go of your face to interlace his fingers with yours, and pinning them above your head on his bed. He presses his nose close to yours, breathing your skin in as he teases you with a kiss. “I’ll make it right.” He mumbles to you, and then pressed his lips fully against yours with such fervor that makes your head dizzy.

Then his mouth leaves yours, trailing down your jawline, pressing a kiss into your skin every time he moves down and when he made it against your neck, you wondered if he could hear your pulse beating wildly.

And the way his mouth moves against your skin, it’s criminal. You could barely think, only knowing what you want with him. Legs wrap around his waist and one hand leaves yours to slide down your side, stopping at the meat of your thighs and he squeezes it, holding it there like he couldn’t believe it was there in the first place.

He moves on, pulling at your apron and shirt, desperate to see more of your skin. In an attempt to feel less naked, you tug at the bottom of his shirt, trying to tell him what you need. He gets you to pull it off, and of course, he’s beautiful. You remember getting a brief look at his body the first time you saw it, down in those cells, but that wasn’t for your own perverted gain. It’d been purely medical.

Not this time. No, you reach with your free hands to palm at his uncovered skin, looking close and you could see that he had plenty of scars, all thin and silvery, you traced them all. You wonder why he let you but then after a moment, he didn’t care for it, reaching to kiss you again while he pulled your pants off. Your hands come up to cup his neck, bringing him closer and closer to you.

You felt naked no matter what but ultimately it's this terrifying, vulnerability sitting in your stomach. It’s nauseating, scary. Putting your trust into his hands. Full faith he’d take care of you in this moment because you took care of him as kids. Terrifying because since the many years as his nurse, he’s done horrible things with his hands no doubt.

You don’t notice that he’s taken his own pants off, only feeling his cock against your thighs as your hips roll against his. He moans stiffly in your mouth, hands gripping at the sheets on each side of your head. You aren’t paying attention until he pulls away, pushing two fingers into your mouth. “Suck.” He said, and well, you couldn’t say no to that, your tongue swirling over each groove of his fingers, coating them in your spit and when he couldn’t wait any more, he pulled them out, giving you a brief kiss on your swollen lips.

His fingers prod at your hole, pressing in slowly, until you whine. He groans, pressing them deeper, curling them and it’s a whole new sensation, hands coming up to grip his shoulders as he works at making you see stars with his fingers.

And when your thighs begin shaking, the tightening, delicious sensation of a building orgasm under your skin, he pulls his fingers out. You gasp, the feeling fading and leaving you starving, he doesn’t say much before he presses the head of his cock inside of you, that’s when he steals your air.

It’s safe to say that all thoughts were being fucked out of your head, his hips rocking and fucking into you. Dragging his cock against your walls. Kissing the side of your neck, tongue leaving trails of spit on your skin that lead to nowhere. Hands constantly shifting from fisting the sheets to squeezing your waist, holding your own hands and keeping them above your head.

“Fuck- ‘m gonna, gonna cum.” He curses as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, missing the way they gape for any source of air. Hearing him like that? Make your toes curl simply to say.

“Inside,” you stumble over your words, “cum inside.” And the way he stares at you, you’d think you hand placed every star in the sky for his gaze.

His pace quickens and yet his hand comes between the two of you, and it’s completely unfair because you’re immediately barreling towards an orgasm. It washes over you before you could comprehend it, thighs definitely shaking around his waist. And as you do, he cums inside, groaning into your neck.

The seconds that come after… you’re breathing heavily and your vision spins. He pulls out, and you can’t move your legs but oh fuck, his mouth touches your hole, sucking his cum out and licking inside. You cry out, reaching with a hand, grabbing a handful of his long hair to hold onto as he tries to make you cum again and it’s just all too much too fast, too sensitive and he just keeps going-

Your vision blurs dangerously into white as he kneads the soft skin around your thighs, kissing it every now and again.

“Are you feeling okay?” He hums, placing your legs down as he moves to hover over you, a finger trailing down the side of your face.

“I feel-” you couldn’t finish your sentence, noticing how he still pants, sweating the same as you, but his cock hangs hard between you two. “Oh my goodness gracious,” you laugh a little and you reach a hand to grasp him, and he only moans into the air, his head dropping and hair tickling your sticky skin. Your limbs feel like jelly but it’s all fine, you’d work through it if it meant pulling those divine noises out of him.

His hand dives between you two, wrapping around yours and speeds your pace up. And watching him fall apart in front of you is better than you could have thought. He curses as his head comes up, his other hand gripping the two sides of your face and kissing your lips, shooting ropes of cum over your stomach. He groans into your mouth, hand leaving your face as he catches your slight huff of disbelief.

“Did I do that?” You ask teasingly, and he smiles. Oh does his smile haunt you in your stomach, in your chest where your heart skips and pounds and begs for him.

“You do a lot of things.” He says, stealing another kiss.

The next day you had to be normal.

Yes, there’s a new ache in your lower regions, yes, you could hardly think about how you spent all night with him. How tired you are because of it.

No, you needed to be normal because his words before it started echoed in your ears.

No? Then do something about it.

And it truly is that simple. You cannot let him die. For all his crimes, for his curse, you could not let him die for the life of you.

So…

What are you to do?

On the day of his execution, he was told by his father that he’d be placed into the holding cells, he’d been healed and he’d been given too much comfort and luxury for a murderer. He couldn’t even look him in the eyes when he was told he’d be hanged for his crimes.

He didn’t want to die, nobody did, but he had this coming to him.

If he’d fought a little harder, if he escaped faster, maybe if he never left his father’s castle, maybe he’d have a chance. None of that happened. He didn’t have a chance at life.

This is what he deserved.

Clothes already dirtied by the holding cell he was placed in, he heard commotion. Chains rattled and more prisoners came down the stairs, shoved into their own holding cells. He doesn’t look up when they recognize him and start to jab at him with words. His hands had been tied, and he assumed theirs had been too, that is until somebody had grabbed him through the bars of the cell. Turning his head, he sees a guard, and he could recognize them. His beast curse left him with little memories but he’s the one who’d been with you when he turned back human.

Connor, had it been?

With his back against the bars he could only listen if he wanted to keep his neck, “watch for the blue birds, and when you see them, let go,” what? After the short, confusing and quite cryptic message, he assumed it to be Connor, to let go of his neck. He watched out of the corner of his eye, blowing a hair out of his face as the man proceeded to climb up the stairs.

There was no natural light here. No sun or stars. Just dangerously close to blowing out lanterns. He watches them sway to pass the time, he doesn’t know when they’ll take him but they will at some point.

And thinking about Connor’s message left him confused every time he tried to think about it, but in the end, he doesn’t think it matters. They drag him out all the same, making him walk out to the courtyard where people have come to watch. He supposed it’s all the same. He almost wishes they had shot him to death or maybe used the old fashioned big axe to the neck. Quick deaths sure, a little brutal but hanging?

Nobody wants to hang.

And maybe that’s exactly why they chose it, chose the area, the people watching. He assumes relatives and family friends of the village had been let in, unless it's been an open to everyone sort of event. He’s not exactly sure, never got the chance to attend a hanging himself.

What fun it’ll be, his first, and fortunately, yes fortunately if you thought about it for a second, his last hanging.

What he didn’t know is that there is a plan set in motion, one that he’d sort of been privy to, the honors done by correctly guessed Connor. As Craft went on about his crimes, his murders, there’d been somebody behind the person who pulls the lever.

This someone had been expertly arguing with another person, both had been asked to do so and paid to do so by yours truly, Michael. So while the executioner would’ve been on time to pull the lever after expertly tying the noose around Wilbur’s neck, he was so annoyed that he hadn’t even realized that the rope he’d used had been a transfiguration. Someone at the same time had been in the crowd and knocked over a cage.

Holding an incredible, also kind of confusing, amount of blue pigeons that promptly flew to the sky.

Ant was properly paid his dues under short notice and while the floor did disappear from him, the special hatch leading to a drop that, had anyone cut themselves from the rope, they’d surely die from the jagged rocks of the mountain. However, as Wilbur is continually amazed by the turning of events, he is amazed once again when a net catches him right below.

The net hangs and catches him, holding him as the two butchers pull him over the edge, one of them taking a second to tug the rope off. It seems that in the matter of days or years, there’s a little bridge, “right this way, watch your step,” one of the butchers says, mostly singing to himself now but he’s got a grip on his shoulders, making sure he’s steady. For some reason, he is still bound by the wrists. Probably not for some random reason.

“Don’t forget to thank your little friend in high places,” the other butcher tells him, clasping a hand over his shoulder as he helped him into a little corner, past the hole in the wall is a hatch that the first butcher had disappeared down. (They could still hear the crowd’s gasps and shouts being thrown across the court, the bridge being dismantled as fast as they had dropped him.)

“Is this friend a god?” He asks with an almost sarcastic tone, key being almost. The butcher doesn’t like it as much as he had hoped so.

“Should they be?” He throws it back at him.

Wilbur hesitates, “suppose not.” And then he dropped down the hatch.

Wilbur finds himself in a different type of cell, it’s not as dark and he does have a bed. But it’s all the same. He could have the same room as a god, and he’d still be a prisoner if he was unable to leave. Which judging by the locked door and still tied hands, he is.

He doesn’t know how long it had been since the two butchers had passed him off to this crude carriage driver, took the scenic route he claimed, perhaps he took the scenic route on top of some lovely mountains and then proceeded to toss the two of them over a cliff.

Once his body stopped puking out whatever they had given him in that cell, the carriage driver dragged him to the cabin where this strange person was. He really didn’t know how to describe him. He might’ve been hallucinating but this person seemed as if he could transform parts of himself into stretchy, vibrant bits of rope. That’s how he probably dragged him into this prison.

The binds on his wrists, they’ve got an irritated rash going on already.

And that’s when he hears a door slam open and shut a minute after. He hears your voice fill the cabin. “Oh it’s so cold, Karl, how have the two of you been holding up? Not too bad I hope?” Not too bad? What the actual fuck? Anger really digs into his skin, flaring up and he’s trying really hard, using those breathing techniques that pig guy had shown him. Fuck, he really had a grip on his own shifting, why can’t he?

“Here, go get Sap and Quackity, they’re going to need help with the move.” And the door opens and closes again. This time he hears your footsteps across the room, moving towards the locked door.

Anger and frustration just keeps building up as the door unlocks and then you enter the room, dressed in head to toe, warm clothes. Whereas he’d been less than ceremoniously wrapped in a blanket.

“Did they treat you okay?” You ask but before he could answer, your eyes darted to his figure, wrapped in a pathetic cloth called a blanket. “Shit, I told them-” you say, moving towards a closet he hadn’t seen before, pulling out piles of clothing and two big lumps of blankets, barely able to see over the stack as you walked towards him.

“I told them to give you something more.” You mutter, biting your lip as you pull out a knife. Cutting the binds from his wrists. “Apparently they’re not as big fans of you as I am.” Hardly the truth. He knew they weren’t exactly his friends but the truth? Getting to live another day is quite a rush. Getting to live another day just to spend it in a prison again is hardly a life he wanted to lead. He almost wished he was left to be hanged.

Then you tend to his rashes, biting your lip and flickering your eyes between his face and his wrists. And when they were done, you started pushing his shirt up and he had to hold your wrists, catching your eye when they looked up, eyes wide and panicking.

“Hey, I think you need to calm down okay, I can dress myself.” Although he may have snapped at you, you didn’t hesitate to give him the space he asked for.

“Course! I- uh-” you clear your throat, wiping your nose for a second as you stand. “I’ll be in the other room whenever you are, um-” patting your thighs, you give him a brief smile, “ready!” And then you close the door behind you. The lock never clicks.

He still feels bitter about the prison part, being toted off to different handlers didn’t make it any easier when they’re only doing it to appease someone, not to save him.

Though, remembering why he’s in this mess, he receives a huge wave of humility and also guilt. He definitely didn’t deserve getting a second chance, and he definitely doesn’t deserve your space and materials. But to turn them down after probably risking your life in helping him, it would probably be a slap to the face as well.

He sighs to himself, slipping his old, torn clothes into the softer, cleaner set you had put out for him. Wrapping a coat around himself, he found it wasn’t necessary to wrap a blanket around himself. Already running on a hotter temperature, more than one coat is just overkill.

In any case, you turn around to see him dressed better for the season and the extra added blanket wrapped. You nearly smile but you keep it to yourself, turning around as you look back at the map. “We still have a long while to travel, but I think if we leave around sunset, we could get a decent amount of ground between us and the castle. The farther the better.” Speaking into the silence is relatively harder, knowing someone is listening but you can’t hear a single thought they have. Especially about your plan. “But with the help we need, they all pretty much have the same requirement.” That’s when you turn around, bracing yourself for a reaction, avoiding his eyes. “That you’re either bound or sedated.”

He doesn’t respond.

He moves sluggishly across the floor. He settles himself by the window. “No.”

You feel your body reacting faster than you could think rationally. “No? Wilbur, it’s just for a few hours at a time, and this time, I will be with you every step of the way-”

“I don’t want to be bound by rope or chains or even by silk, and I refuse to be sedated. I never wake up the same… person.”

You don’t want to do that to him. You didn’t want to but you need him safe, and going through this process is necessary for his survival.

“What if they’re loose or what if I just gave you some lavender and you pretend you’re knocked out?” He says your name after you start rambling, trying to come up with solutions time and time again. “Please, just trust that you’ll be safe, I will make sure of that,” you end up by his window, close to his body. Wanting nothing more than to be far away from any society that’ll hurt him.

Wanting him all to yourself was a nice touch but that’s not the point.

His hand reaches out, grabbing your wrist. This time, his thumb rubs over your veins, nail gently scratching at your skin. “If I’m not completely free, saving me was a wasted effort.” Then he let go. He stands up, pushing the thick blanket off of his shoulders, walking past you and back to the room. “I’ll be gone before it gets too thick outside.” And you’re desperate to fight against that stupid, idiotic plan of his but he nearly slams the door. But he doesn’t slam it. He doesn’t even close it.

Your eyes sting with tears, trying to calm yourself down. All you wanted was for him to be safe, all you did is keep him safe.

Sucking the snot back into your nose, you turn around, looking at an approaching wagon. And a soft call of your name. But because your vision is a little blind and it does look like three guys you knew, you don’t hesitate to open the door. It is now that you can hear the sound of shouting after a particularly hard blow to your forehead, you don’t even comprehend falling to the ground but perhaps that is just how being knocked by a gun works.

The next time you are conscious it is surrounded by the dark and the cold. Snow greets you with a particular bite, and when you are completely aware of your surroundings and the increasing headache pounding against your skull, it’s now that you are nowhere near the cabin you’d bought with the money your mother left you. (The very same you were going to give to Karl to pay for his help.)

In fact, you’re alone. Completely and utterly alone. You move to sit up, hissing as you notice your bruised limbs, as if you’d gone through a little hell before waking up.

Hearing the woods surrounding you not be completely silent, though, is a blessing. Surviving five minutes of it is not one of yours. Shivering from the lack of clothing needed for this weather, you bear through it, you look around, finding very little luck until you see a familiar lump of fur. Crawling over to him, you wince and let out little gasps of pain, grinding your teeth to get past it as you finally made it.

Whether he’d be nice like this, you’re not sure if you care, you just need his warmth.

Sinking into his fur, you let out a sigh, feeling a little better. A low rumble vibrates through your body, but even like this, you know it’s him. “Sorry if I woke you…” you mumble, turning against his body to curl even more against him.

You know it's probably not a safe time to fall asleep but he’s so warm, and he keeps vibrating and it’s easy to lose yourself in it.

Truth be told, Wilbur wasn’t a total pain in the ass when you woke up, all human and everything and dressed in the same things as before you had been knocked out. Of course you asked him about it, but he didn’t share much, just that the bare minimum.

Three people heard about the two of you through a grapevine and decided they wanted a bit of reward money. Either that or be paid thoroughly for their services underground. He made sure they couldn’t hurt the two of you anymore, and when he came to as a human, feeling better in his skin… he took the two of you away.

No doubt after helping him, you wouldn’t be welcomed with open arms. Chances are you’d receive his sentence. And after everything the two of you went through, he didn’t want that.

So he walked with you on his back, walking until he couldn’t even recognize the smell of the trees. Couldn't smell another person for hours before he finally collapsed. And by then, being a beast was easier on him, energy wise, so that’s where you woke up.

Of course, waking up away from him didn’t make sense whatsoever, but you figured he was holding something back that, should it have been important, he would’ve told you.

So, you didn’t bring it up again. And when you try to stand up, and inevitably fall because of the giant pain in your leg, he’s there to catch you. (And when he pulls you onto his back, saying nothing about your weight, and then loading a bag onto his arm, he begins a trek, he says nothing then. Nothing about anything. You wish you knew why.)

It’s almost noon when he puts you down, setting you on a log when he decided it was enough.

“Why didn’t you escape by yourself?” It would have been easier to ditch you. Especially since your way made him uncomfortable in the worst ways for him.

He drops the firewood into a pile, cracking his neck as a hand comes up to ruffle his hair. Turning around, he doesn’t make eye contact as he moves past you to get more of the wood. And by the looks of it, if he’d been normal, it’d take five men to carry what he did. He’s avoiding the topic at hand, though.

“Is it so hard to believe I didn’t want you to die?” He asks, finally turning to you after you had grabbed his arm, giving him your own specialty begging eyes. “Do you think that little of me, that I’d rather save my own ass than take the time to save yours?” His voice is bitter, and you wonder if you’d made a mistake in asking.

You don’t let go, even using him to pull yourself up, ignoring his silent huffs. Even standing next to him, with his help, you can’t help the way you look at him. “It doesn’t matter what I think, you saved me and I’m alive because of you.” You want to tell him he’s more than what they forced him to be, you want to tell him he’s more than capable of being kind. You just don’t know whether or not he’d listen or ignore you.

“Maybe,” he said, like he was trying to dismiss it, like it didn’t mean anything to him, but you can see, you can see it in his tense muscles, his eyes looking everywhere but you. Shaking your head, you use both hands to squeeze his shoulder.

“I’d be dead if it weren’t for you.” And because he didn’t seem like he could handle anything else, you decided to leave a simple kiss pressed into his clothed shoulder. Moving away to sit down, he pulls you in for a hug, breathing deeply into the side of your head, unwilling to let go.

“Is this how it felt the first day you saw me?” He asks but you don’t answer. You’re not sure what he’s feeling but if he’s comparing it to the day you saw him as a human- you’d have to guess that it’d be a little bit strong for him.

You wonder if the day after will be like that as well for him. Where his emotions ran faster than he could process, where he gave you the idea to get the two of you out of there. (You knew him better than any doctor could in this world. Sort of. You knew how to treat him. You knew how to help. You knew he never liked any of that.)

He didn’t say anything, not that he didn’t want to, but it seemed for the first time, he was at a loss of words. You could hear him open and close his mouth, but every time you heard him begin, there wasn’t a finish. You didn’t need him to say anything. You understood.

Tilting your head back, you watch him with curious eyes until he pressed a shaky hand against your cheek, holding you in his palms. “I genuinely don’t know what I’d do with myself if I let you die.” And then as shaky as he breathed out, he kissed you, hands holding you like he couldn’t quite believe the two of you are okay.

It’s here you collapse in his arms.

When you come to a second time, you’re in an actual bed, with a doctor tending to your arms and fever, one you had briefly thought you had as a joke before you had passed out on Wilbur that first night. And like you thought, one superhuman with a regulated body temperature way out of the normal range for most ovens could not keep the two of you warm enough.

Wilbur sat in a chair beside you, listening tentatively. You’re sure he never looked tired before, maybe slightly exhausted but the bags under his eyes betray his cool exterior.

Not that he had one before, but it did show just how much you truly did affect him. Not that you’d put yourself in danger but the reassurance is nice here, smiling at him when you could. Settling his nerves whenever he got concerned over how much you’ve been smiling. Said that you’d never smiled that much, never whenever he was around and only when it was about books. When you were kids.

Well, you remember liking the way he told the stories in the book, how he made them come alive in a way he couldn’t with himself. It always made reality feel that much duller. Still, the doctor said to rest until he dismissed the two of you.

It’s on the fourth day of sitting on your bum, reading books to Wilbur with his head in your lap. The relationship between the two of you confused you, no doubt it does the same for him. Just because he gave you one amazing night between you two didn’t mean you had to marry him, despite there being a history already there and the chemistry never faded. Things just take the forefront of your minds, like surviving this trip. And this bedrest.

And this is when you are put into custody when the doctor gets word about Wilbur, shoved into a cell with your hands bound alongside Wilbur. “You can’t just leave them here, they’ll die!” Wilbur shouted so many times at the guard to get a doctor and get them medical attention but no one was listening. Not a single soul. Except you.

You begged him to hold you if you ought to be dead in a cell.

His bound hands lifted straight into the air, wiggling you in his lap as he pulled you in, draping his arms over your shoulder, giving you the perfect place to get warm and a nap.

He held you for days, until he could physically not. They dragged you away. By the bandaged arms. He had shouted and screamed until his throat was raw and hot tears poured down his face. He didn’t know what to do with himself at that point. Slumping against the cell wall, he closes his eyes, breathing every now and again to see if he could find you.

You weren’t being held with the other prisoners, but he knew you were in distress.

The burning anger began to build when a metallic scent grew stronger, mixing with your pained screams. Steam came off of his skin as he seamlessly shifted from a man to a beast. The rest is history.

“Tell us what you know about the man who can turn into a beast.”

He asks many questions about Wilbur, about his weaknesses and strengths,but all you can do is weep, letting out a scream that tears up your throat as he shocks you again and again. Then the door literally rips off the hinges.

Something tackles your torturer and though you’re still dealing with the aftershocks of electric torture, you’re on the brink of consciousness. Watching as after a second, the man stopped screaming and the beast stood up, maw dripping with blood. But you could only spit out your own and smile, he was your beastly friend after all. He tears your bindings off, letting you lean on his fur for a second before the fur in your face turns into the clothing you saw him in when they took you away.

“You’re okay,” he says and you have half a mind to wonder if he’s saying it to reassure you or himself, and he keeps repeating it as he bends down for you to lay yourself on your back. And after doing so, he shifts again, fur returning to your hands and face.

You’re not conscious for the rest of the escape but after you come to, you’re in a warm bath, with Wilbur washing you. He pauses as he watches you wake up, and yes of course his face burns a pretty pink but this is the second time he’s seen you naked. And this time, he’s not doing it for his sake, you need to be washed down. All the dirt and grime can do a nasty number on your injuries. You tell him to continue, you’ll lead him in terms of bandages.

And when the water drains and all that’s left is your shivering body, he helps you sit up, draping a towel over your body. He helps pat you down, hoping that his warm palms help in any way before he reaches under your knees and cradles your back, heaving you out of the tub and out of the washroom.

You see the room it’s connected to, a bed with a chest at the foot of it. And really, nothing else, curtains shielding the windows, a rug on the floor. You don’t catch anything else when he sits you down on the bed, reaching for something on the bed you didn’t see.

“Did you really steal medicine, Will?” You ask lightly, hoping to be able to tease him for it. He barely smiles as you guide him through it, rubbing a salve over your burns, he wraps them with great care, apologizing profusely as you’d wince and hiss every so often. When you were done, he helped pull a shirt over your head, bottoms to cover your ass, and though it’s been a rough week, you could still appreciate when a pretty man is on his knees helping you get dressed.

And when he’s done, he stands in front of you, unsure of what to do, but you do. You pull him down to lay with you on the bed, scooting aside so he has room. He’s stiff as a board but you pat his arm, laying your head on his shoulder and trying to go to sleep.

He shifts from under, moving to hover over you, hands at each side of your head. Your eyes open slowly, smiling as you catch him in the act. Knees pressed into either side of the mattress, he had you trapped. Like you could go anywhere to begin with. As if you would leave if you had a chance. “Come on, Wilbur, kiss me.” Your bandaged arms reach up to drape over his shoulders but he’d bitten his lips till they bled. Worried over you. You could see the thoughts turning in his head. You had enough of those thoughts.

“It wasn’t your fault, Wilbur. You know that right?” You ask, watching as one of his hands came close to your face, thumbing over a particular mark on your face, just watching it.

“I could’ve stopped them at any time,” he said, “I could’ve gotten you out earlier.”

“I’m out now.” You say, each word stressed and enunciated. Clear.

He didn't say anything else, under his breath you might’ve heard him agree reluctantly but by then, he had leaned his head down, bumping his nose against yours as he kissed you rather gently, hands moving down to cradle your jaw before you press your mouth harder against his. Wanting something a little more.

That’s when he breathed in through his nose, moving one of his hands to the back of your neck, moving his lips against yours with every intent of stealing your breath.

Your hips buck up against his, moving to wrap your legs around his body, trying to get closer any way you could. He breathes heavy in your skin, trying to commit every part of you to memory, the way you sighed when he palmed your waist, the way you whined into his mouth when he dipped his fingers beneath your bottoms.

How your head tossed back after he sank his cock inside of you, bandaged hands reaching up to grab at the pillows by your head, eyes lost somewhere before he had to reach up with a hand and pat your face, “still with me?” He murmurs, genuinely scared for the answer, stopping fully before he has the chance to fully bottom out inside. Your eyes reach his and you couldn’t help yourself, rolling your hips.

“Still here,” and you reach up to hold his face as he trembles a little bit, from the pleasure or something else, you’re not exactly sure. You hope it's mostly because of the pleasure. “You?”

He nods, fast and then asking if you were ready, you smile, taking one of his hands and interlacing your fingers together. He smiles this time and when he pulls out of you, leaving just the tip in, you hate the emptiness you felt. You didn’t have time to complain before he, just as slowly, thrusted back inside of you, catching the way you keened when the veins on his cock dragged against your walls.

“F- fuck,” he gasps and your stomach flutters, not just from his cock filling you up that every thought you had leaves your pretty little head, but you loved the way he sounds. Like you had this hold over him, a chain around his neck that only you had the key to. That idea didn’t stay long.

Losing yourself in him, the way he smells, the way your mind spins when his hands roam your body, the way when he reached a certain spot and you keened, soft whimpers pouring out of your mouth as he fucked into you faster, pushing your legs up by the back of your thighs. Your hands placed over your head, gripping onto the metal bars as you could feel yourself come undone by him, that delicious burning feeling overtaking you. Squeezing his cock as you cried his name, Wilbur didn’t last that much longer, pleasure burning in and under his skin, licking at his nerves as he came inside of you.

Breathing is the only thing filling the room, and as he pulls out of you, he kisses you delicately, as if he didn’t want this to end. Neither did you.

He sits up, using the towel you had used to clean you up, taking extra care of your sensitive hole, leaving the room to get water, you shuffled underneath the blanket. You needed some rest.

Though you still had some questions.

So when he came back, hair falling into his eyes as he came back dressed lightly. “Tired already?” He smiles this time and you can’t help the way your heart pounds faster, losing more feeling out of your knees even after having been fucked. You take the glass of water and before you could stop yourself, you ask.

“So who’s house is this then?” You ask and he scratches his face, sipping at his own cup.

“Apparently my father’s, found his name on some documents. Found an old painting of his father. Didn’t even recognize him.” You look at him, watching as he stares at the wall. Dirty liar.

It’s fine though.

“Will anyone find us here?”

He looks back at you, his lips almost curling into a smile immediately when he catches your eye. It dropped when he looked back at his cup, taking another sip while shaking his head. “Nobody should find us here, not for a long while.”

“So we’ll be all alone, then, huh?” And his eyes gain a little bit of that sparkle, smiling at you completely this time.

“Do you not want to be alone with me?” You could hear it though, you could see him withdrawing the tiniest bit. You reach for his hand.

“It’s all I ever wanted,” and his shoulders relax.

“Good,” and from the look on his face, it was the thing he needed to hear.

The two of you have plenty of time together to say the rest of the words you buried deep in your throat, plenty of time to say whatever is left in your heart.

But when the two of you have slipped underneath the covers and you’re pretty sure he’s drifted off to sleep, you say three little words underneath your breath. They weren't a big deal, only a truth you struggled with for a while there. And though as you’re falling asleep, you wonder if you feel him press those same words into your neck.

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fic #minors do not interact #mdni #eggplicit #ktober 22 #hot hot hot #k: monster #honestly its pretty vanilla #i've only got feelings in this fic no kink no monsterfucking i am a mess #you guys should still love me though #no i didnt edit this why would i

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xxanimecoolgirlxx · 3 months

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I know I’m late to the party but

Im glad that the armadillo wolf armor got upgraded/revamped. Now I can actually feel semi safe letting my doggos out w/ me

Though tbh, this was the shit Stampylongnose needed back in the day. Would’ve saved so many dogs

#Minecraft #dogs #minecraft dog #minecraft armadillo #minecraft 1.20 #stampylonghead #stampylongnose #minecraft 1.21 #minecraft update #late

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chevvy-yates · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday Whenever

Got tagged by @elvenbeard, @gloryride, @cinnamon-mey and @morganlefaye79 ! thanks! <3 Idk if it was last week or two weeks ago bc I lost track of time.

I tag: @dreamskug, @humberg, @imaginarycyberpunk2023, @alphanight-vp, @wraithsoutlaws, @heywoodvirgin, @pinkyjulien, @kharonion and @rosapexa – also everyone who likes to do it as alway and no pressure!

—

Since I've been sick for nearly a week and before that more busy with blorbo bday shots during the last weeks I came not to anything new since then other than just thinking about blorbos.

but I can share this pic now, that was only a test to see how it is to have three spawned bubis in a game now:

Thyjs is so darn pale!

I had Vijay and Thyjs talk about Ryder in another answered ask the other day I would like to share here again first as not many have seen this and it means a lot to me so:

Vijay: "Ryder's a complicated dude, but a real lovely one. You can't hate him, even if you wished for it. Yes, he's got problems with his tonality an' is easy to erupt. If you only get to know him superficially you may not like him. It's not easy to become his choom, but if you are allowed to be — bro, he's the best choom you can have. Never met one as loyal as Ryder — at least not before meeting Thyjs — Ry's like that lil' pup phenomenon; the stray black lil' doggo you found wandering aimlessly in the streets and picked up to bring home with you. Result is a super loyal strong watchdog who will be alerted immediately once someone approaches. I can say of my own experience that he's extremely protective if you happen to be in his rather small friend circle. He will do anything to protect you from the bad. He's a good boy and therefore my best friend forever."

Thyjs: “I didn’t know what to think of him in the first place. He talked to me with such an arrogant tone, on top in German. Ik was totaal geïrriteerd. Unsure if I would like him. He's got quite some personality. But knowing him better now, I see who he truly is and when it is the ‘other Ryder’ coming through. There is something about him I did like from the very first moment: his honesty and straightforwardness and his strong will to withstand the pain he endures every day. I can only imagine how he must feel. So I decided to give him a chance. En ik ben eerlijk — he's one of the kindest people I’ve met. Ry willed to show me the city — he hardly knew me. Hedecided to trustme even though I served those who he despises most. He offered me to stay at his place, as I had none, until I made some eddies for an apartment. I enjoyed spending time with him more and more. He made me put down my strict soldier shell I usually keep up, allowing me to appreciate the more casual life now as I cannot pick up my soldier career anymore. Thanks to him I’m a little more of an outgoing person now too I guess. Ryder saved my life! I owe him my protection and he magically made me fall in love with him. It was the least I expected to happen. He helps me explore my own feelings as I struggle with emotional numbing even though he has a hard time to express himself either. In private he's the loveliest and most caring man I've ever met. You can only fall in love with him."

I'm currently spending some time when I find the energy for it to write on a monologue Ryder is doing (he pretends he speaks to Tommy though) how he feels about Beast and Vijay saving him. It's lots of feelings I struggle to put into written form atm. In my head it sounded so good and it made me cry but writing it down myslef is a bit disappointing. Dunno how long it will take me until I think it is good enough but if I ever finish it I'll post it for sure.

#thoughts #wip #wip wednesday #wip whenever #about. ryder von scharfenberg #about: vijay steyr #about: thyjs de wit

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wario-speedwagon · 5 months

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Dave and Old Sport Adopt a Kid: Chapter 11

Hello again! I have a nice beefy chapter for you today! To those who saw that I posted this chapter three days ago on AO3, uhhh... no you didn't! ;) Jokes aside, I hope you enjoy the chapter! <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 10

Chapter 11

She was furious.

They’d succeeded. Again. For the Orange Guy, it was now the second time, yet for the Purple Guy, well, who knows how many times it’s been now.

And she could never do anything about it except clean up after them. Time after time again. And it was all because of this dang box, because of this dang music that messed with her dang programming...

She could vaguely hear the sounds of Dave’s obnoxious voice responding to Phoney’s obnoxious yelling; always the same game of cat and mouse between them every time. The Phone Guys frustratingly never learned. But now this time his voice was mixed in their games as well. Why him of all people, why would he, why would he ever?

That strange Shadow Doggo must have been right. He really must not have a soul anymore. She could only bet that Henry must have stolen it from him, it was the only way any of it made sense...

No, she was sick of reasoning in circles like this; she needed to find a way to stop them.

Because they’d only taken four souls this time. Dave always took five, just like he always took them in costume, always took them into the Saferoom, always took children for his victims; never with any aberration. It was almost like some sort of sacred ritual or something to him.

So that meant they still needed one more child. That also meant that there was still a chance to save someone. Still a chance to stop them.

So if only this awful music wouldn’t keep her in sleep mode, she could—

Huh? She felt a slight impact against her box. Someone was definitely nearby.

And before she could ponder it further, the lid of her box was lifted, silencing the music and blinding her with light from above.

Seizing her chance, she slowly, with gratification, climbed up from her resting position, stretching to her feet, finally enjoying the fullest of her vessel’s towering height after being cramped for so long.

And then she looked down to see that it was a child that had freed her. A… purple child? She glanced and saw that the colorful culprits were still being held up by an angry phone in the distance before she returned to considering the strange child before her, puzzled. And the same child returned a similar stare back up at her.

And then her instincts kicked in. This child was completely alone, she would be an easy target for them. She could save someone today! So she stepped out of the box, the child stepping away cautiously.

“What’s your name, little one?” her soul whispered to ease the girl's fears.

But the child only maintained her silent, diligent stare.

“You’re all by yourself today, aren’t you? I can be your friend today if you like! Come, I can take you somewhere we can play together!” she reassured, extending her hand to the child.

The young girl considered the puppet’s gesture carefully, but then a moment later, she rather cheerfully took her clawed hand, to the puppet's great relief.

She led the child along, perhaps a little too hurriedly, before the Kiddie Stranglers would see them across the room. First, she would take the lone child to a safe place, the one place those two would never go to find her.

Then, she would take matters into her own hands.

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

It was so strange. The way the puppet moved, it was almost like it was hovering more than merely walking mechanically. Whatever it was, Violet couldn’t take her eyes off it as it led her along the side of the dining room. And it also regularly looked back to check on her with its eternally smiling face.

Frankly, Violet was dying of excited curiosity about where this thing could possibly be taking her. And soon she figured out that they were heading for the side hallway.

But then she was pulled along with more haste after the puppet glanced back again, and looking back herself, Violet saw that the Phone Man was sternly and briskly heading toward their end of the room, although for the main stage and not their corner of the big space. Was the puppet trying to avoid him? Or was it something else—?

They’d finally entered the dingy maintenance hallway, and to her surprise, they then quickly turned to enter the women’s bathroom of all rooms.

Why did it want her here? Maybe it wanted something else than just playing with her?

As the puppet chanced a last fast look out the door, it then closed it behind them rather hurriedly before returning to attend to Violet again. Or rather, it went back to staring eerily down at her again like before. It was hard to tell with its unchanging expression, but with how it kept tilting its head at her, it almost seemed… curious about her as well? She was unusual for a child, perhaps.

But Violet felt exactly the same way about her new friend, and she decided to confidently walk up to the puppet for a better look. She wanted to see it all up close, the way it was built with its thin, twiggy legs, its cool claws, its freaky mask—!

And then she felt light, plasticky claws pat her on her head. She looked up to see it looking directly down at her, and so on simple child’s instinct, she hugged it in return.

Evidently the puppet was either not ready or not designed for hugs, because considering their height difference, when Violet hugged the puppet, or more specifically, its knees, she hugged tightly that she ended up tipping them both off balance onto the ground.

After their collective impact, Violet realized she’d probably done something pretty bad considering this was still (probably?) a robot... but the puppet merely pushed itself sitting upright and thumbs-upped at her (or whatever the closest equivalent was possible with only three fingers). So she laughed and went for another hug for its torso, and this one, the puppet returned with its rope-like arms wrapped around her.

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“So what should we do today, old sport?” asked Dave as he slid his rabbit head over his own to complete the Spring Bonnie(TM) character.

“I dunno, you were the one with a plan.”

“Right. Well then, new plan! How about we hit the arcade and play Breadbear all day?”

“Sounds good to me! Whoever has the lower high score has to let Pruny experiment on them with her ‘gift’!”

“What the hell does that even mean!? What IS that stuff you got her!?”

“Let’s just hope you don’t find out the hard way, hm?” Sportsy challenged smugly behind his own Spring Freddy(TM) visage.

“Oh like hell I’m lettin’ you win! I’m ace at Breadbear!” And of course, by “ace,” Dave meant that he knew how to tamper with machines to his favor. Old Sport didn’t stand a chance.

The two continued trash-talking each other as they left the Saferoom to face the child-infested wilds of Freddy’s.

…

And once she heard their approaching voices grow quieter again, the puppet chanced another peek through the bathroom door. Good, they said they were going to the arcade, that area was nice and out of the way. Now if she could find a way to sneak past Phone Guy—the only person in the building that would dare attempt to stuff her back into the box—then she could escort the child out of the building, and hopefully it would understand to never come back for her own safety…

“Hey little girl— Hey! Where’d you go!?” she suddenly panicked. This was not the time for her to run off!

But she was certain the girl didn’t sneak out the door beneath her without her somehow noticing, meaning she was certainly still in here somewhere.

“Oh, I get it…” she remarked. “Well, ready or not, here I come!”

But of course, the only places she could reasonably be were one of the four closed stalls, so one by one she opened them.

First…

…empty.

Second…

…empty.

Third…

…empty

Fourth…

…“Found you!”

And to her delight, the girl began giggling as she hopped down from the toilet lid.

“Well aren’t you a little scamp—”

And then she scurried out of the stall. And then for the bathroom exit—

“Hey, no, don’t—! Get back here!” but she was already gone. Wow, she was surprisingly fast.

But so were the Kiddie Stranglers.

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As she held the hallway entrance door, Violet glanced behind her to see the puppet was indeed after her. Good! She promptly pushed open the door as she fled for the best hiding spot she could find in this delightfully busy dining room, but not before flashing her pursuer a mischievous grin on her way out.

“OH NO YOU DON’T!! THIS ISN’T A GAME, LITTLE ONE!!”

But the child obviously wasn’t listening.

“Oh come on…”

So the puppet did her best to keep up with the purple child, but once she also exited the hallway, the kid was already gone in the sea of Freddy’s daily chaos.

“Oh come on!”

So she started sorting through toddlers, most of which were very intimidated by her. But then she caught the Phone-head in the corner of her vessel’s eyes.

“OH COME ON!”

Violet giggled quietly to herself underneath the dining booth table, knowing the puppet right next to her was completely oblivious to the fact that she was right there as it started to walk away from her hiding spot.

So she promptly got up and ran for a new fun hiding spot!

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Dave’s HP fell to zero and the words “GAME OVER” flashed before his screen yet again, mocking him yet again. Threatening him with Pruny’s mystery concoction yet again.

“Dammit!” he kicked the Balloon Boy that had hauntedly reappeared next time him since last time he anger-kicked him away. It of course went flying with a kid laugh again.

Dave glanced next to him; Old Sport was still laser-focused on his own game: tongue poking out of his lips and eyes unblinking.

Finally. The perfect opportunity.

Dave sloooowly slinked down to a crouching position, slowly enough for Jack to not notice any sudden movements. And as he crawled to the back of the machine…

She started giggling upon being discovered.

“Pruny!? What are you doing back there?” he hissed in whispered shock.

She quickly jumped to her feet. Dave patted and scruffed her hair in affectionate acknowledgement before then using the same hand to push her head back down with him to a crouching level.

“Alright, kid, I’m gonna show you something fun, but you’re not allowed to tell Sportsy, ya got that?”

She nodded emphatically.

“That’s my girl.” He started unscrewing the bolts of a panel with a screwdriver that he always had on hand somewhere on his person.

“I’m gonna show you how to win at Breadbear.”

He popped off the metal lid and set it down carefully so as to not make too much noise. He then searched around with his hand for wires—well, the right wires, as there were more wires than the average Joe knew what to do with.

But Dave Miller was no average Joe.

Eventually he felt the right area for the set of cords he was looking for. Now with much more precision, he felt for exactly the right one, feeling for their connection points with the circuitry boards for guidance… ah! There it is!

“Now get ready for…” Dave trailed off, still focused on his tampering.

“Presto! Now whaddya think’a that!”

Balloon Boy laughed in his face.

“BWAAH—!” He screamed and impulsively punched it away impressively far as it crashed against the wall.

“Oh, no—Nononono! NO! Grrr… Shit!”

Uh oh.

“DAVE! What’d you scream like that for, it completely threw me off— …Oh heavens, now what are you doing on the floor like that?” Sportsy interrogated, tone abruptly switching from angry to shit-eatingly smug again.

Great. Just great.

…Wait, but where did—

“Pruny, where’d she go? She was just here!”

“Oh right, I’m guessing she told you to start digging inside the machine and then just up and disappeared before I could see her?” he mocked.

“No but really, where’d she go? I didn’t even notice her leave…”

“Well that’s besides the point. You were caught cheating, and for that, you’re disqualified.”

“Oh bullSHIT! Since when’s cheatin’ against the rules!?”

“Cheating is definitionally against the rules, that’s why it’s called cheating, Dave.”

“No way, you don’t have the authority to disqualify me for cheating any more than I have the authority to disqualify you for… smelling bad!”

“Oh if we’re talking B.O., then it’s not just me who’s getting disqualified, pal.”

“WHY aren’t you two in your suits!?”

“Cuz it’s harder to play the damn game that way, duh!—ow.” Old Sport elbowed him.

*ahem* “Heeey Scott! We were just… taking our legally mandated break?”

“‘Legally mandated break’—How about I legally mandate you two back into your suits before things go even further to heck!?”

“Yeah, sure thing, boss man.”

“That thing’s been out and about somewhere thanks to you two not keeping an eye out for its music box! So if you don’t get that thing back in its box, there will be dire consequences for us ALL.”

“Sheesh, man, why so intense today?”

“HHHHHHHHHHHH”

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Thankfully, despite several close calls, the Phone manager never managed to notice the puppet whenever he would turn his head in her direction or walk past her. It was a good thing the puppet never garnered much popularity among children, but it was even more fortunate that they were more so silently creeped out than outwardly fearful, lest they would get an employee’s attention and try to put her back away.

The puppet, feeling secure that the Phone Guy was well-occupied with the horde of ungrateful toddlers that had appeared by the ballpit, made her way through the party room hallway as her next place to check.

That child—who knows where she could have gone, and who knows where they had gone… It concerned her greatly, and she had made a promise to herself to save this child this time—that his, to save her life rather than just her soul for once.

And unlike her brother, she intended to keep her promise.

And so her focus was set on deciding whether to check the arcade, the office or either of the party rooms first… Who knows when Phone Guy would unexpectedly make his way here (as he was prone to do), so she had to decide quickly.

Both party rooms seemed filled with families, including parents, so that was too risky for now; the office was most likely empty if Phone Guy wasn’t currently in there glued to his computer monitor. Of course, that didn’t mean that purple gremlin child couldn’t absolutely be using those rooms as hiding spots, but the puppet decided she felt most safe checking the mostly-child-infested arcade first.

But as she peered her masked head around the entrance frame, a sinking feeling settled into her soul. Because the first thing she noticed was the awful color orange.

But he was thoroughly invested in the game he was playing. The purple, however, was even more unnervingly absent.

She had to be careful about this. Sure, she knew she intimidated those two more than they intimidated her, but the last thing she wanted to do is be discovered as their opponent in their “game,” least of all by Dave, given his solid track record of dismantling any robots that were actively aiming for his throat (a throat which was ridiculously long, no less…).

She stayed away from being directly in front of any arcade machines that a child would want to run up to and play, opting to quietly hover past their turned backs with a hunched back for a lower profile. She hurried past the aisle of machines that Orange was at, ascertaining quickly that there were no children whatsoever interested in playing any machines near that guy.

And in the aisle behind that she finally found results! A light purple child crouched down, looking into the backside of a machine alongside—

“Oh no,” she couldn’t help but whisper aloud when she saw even more purple next to her, a deeper, far more sinister shade—

She acted fast. She, as quickly as was safe to remain undiscovered, made her way toward the two aubergines who were thankfully also both very distracted. On her way, though, she noticed to her brief horror—

”—Christ!”

—that a Balloon Boy was staring right at her between two machines. Recovering her cool quickly, she promptly picked him up with both claws and speedily, yet silently hovered toward the aubergines before placing the Balloon Boy right in between them and deftly scooping up the child in her arms before either could even notice to react.

When the girl realized herself being carried away, she gasped and turned to see her captor, but instantly calmed down to a sly smile when she noticed it was just her new puppet friend!

The puppet continued carrying her in her arms, speedily making her way out of the arcade, hoping there wasn’t an inconveniently placed Phone Head in her path as she made her way back to the girl’s bathroom.

…

The puppet, of course, had no way of knowing that Violet was excited to rope Dave and maybe Jack into their game of hide-and-seek once they noticed she was gone. She hoped they would meet her new friend, even play together!

…

When she made her way to the maintenance hallway, the little girl suddenly began to squirm free when just prior she had happily enjoyed the “ride” in her arms, and to the puppet’s horror, she was running straight for the Saferoom.

“No, no, no, NOT THAT WAY, PLEASE!”

(Chapter 12->)

#more to come soon next week! look forward to it!#dayshift at freddy's #dsaf #dayshift at freddys #jack kennedy #dave miller #dee kennedy #dsaf jack #dsaf dave #dsaf dee #dee dsaf #dsaf fanfic

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kiruyeen · 1 month

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HEY IT ME YOUR BOI/J (sorry for yelling in text qwq)

Anyways I got a new idea to add to the voidie lore I know it not something I should put in with voidies asit kinda of a sub species but I wanna put it in with voidies world :3 so I'm just going to ramble about it and ask if you think it a good idea or not ^w^ (delete if you think it too long qwq)

Introducing half voids or mixed voids :DDDDD (still working on it give name suggestions please qwq)

These bad boys are alot like voidies/voids but different in one way and that is there much more earth like to put it short but long story it looks at paper

Means that they are/were human or an animal at one point but was transformed into a voidie though not fully it could happen due to many reasons but one of the many reason is due to the cuteness of how animals are

Mixed voidies do still act like their past life self but fully voidies act fully like how their past versions did

Mixed voidie look different from one another and don't look like voidies and mostly just has treats from them but they are still loved and valued none the less by their community's and friends

Mixed voidies normally are animals and some will have pure black eyes or pure white eyes sometimes their just pure darkness with pure white eyes but some look like furrys some are scary than others and some are very cute

Past human mixed voidie normally don't gain both hair goop and face/hand/arms they only can get one if their half though it commonly seen to be the body voidie than hair for most half voidie doesn't mean it rare

Half voidie normally get transformed young and very small as it easier to card for and is less likely to fully transform or go ooof

Mixed voidies normally are made and not born due it could happen if a voidie some how decides to live with a human or adopts an animal though they normally kidnap or save the animals/humans they turn into half voidies

Half voidie do age in a way but normally stop fiscally aging after a while mostly once around when their species would die or starts to age on the inside/decomposing and unlike voidies they can't change how they look so their voidie family normally makes disguises for them using a mask(like one of full face mask) that once put on turns the wearer into the disguise that was entwined into the mask normally only able to be made by using voidie ink

Voidies live within groups and family units like human though their like herd of animals and human units mixed together as they stick close but also will adopt those that are abandoned even if the thing isn't a voidie

Voidies are very welcoming and love half voidies alot as they find them cute

Half voidies can have all different colors and sizes and can come in pastels though their normally the color of what their past versions look like(this is mostly for half voidies that are half human half voidie but also works for half human half voidies that have more human like hair)

Some have voidies can have alot of traits of voidies sometimes looking like a full voidie or only having few too only small traits of voidies

(That all i can think of more at 10 >wo/hj and thanks for letting me ramble tee hee >:3c/hj anyways byeee until nexts week uwu i haven send a ask in a week sorry hope you didn't miss me qwq/silly)

-mama doggo

that is indeed a lot! but I really like it :D catch me with a void furry /silly

#kirus asks #mama doggo

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satanfemme · 1 year

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I kinda hate animal people sometimes. I do think animals deserve to be respected as much as humans do, and they should be given as much autonomy as reasonable, all that, but goddamn so many "animal people" clearly choose animals OVER humans and it's so disgusting. in my city, a human and their dog were shot recently, the human didn't make it, and animal control is fundraising to help save the dog who is in critical condition. and so many of the comments are either fully dismissing the human life that was lost ("I can understand shooting a human but how could anyone hurt a poor doggo", or "omg what a tragedy that the poor doggo got hurt" with no mention of the owner). or there's comments outright BLAMING the owner with literally no reason or evidence at all. all they did "wrong" was get attacked and die, how are they an animal abuser for dying? it's so depressing to see.

#I don't have any point with this it's literally just depressing the way people get dehumanized over nothing #I see it happen every day and experience it firsthand sometimes but this was just such a blatant example it makes me feel ill

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starlightshadowsworld · 8 months

Text

Danganronpa 3: Future arc episode 5.

Thonks.

We're back!

Into a flashack of kid Seiko trying to help a hurt doggo. And ending up saving Ruruka's dog.

This show didn't need to give me reasons for believing Seiko deserves the world.

But I'll take em.

I'm pretty indifferent to Ruruka and Izayoi.

They were asshole's as teens and they're still asshole's as adults.

It is sweet seeing them actually be friends to Seiko as kids.

It's sad knowing how toxic that friendship becomes but that's as far as my feelings to them are.

Also the fact they knew from the beginning why Seiko can't eat sweets.

And than use that later on, that she's cruel for not eating Ruruka's sweets, despite knowing she can't eat them is just awful.

Those two bought this on themselves, I do not sympathise with them at all.

Izayoi vs Seiko is a cool fight.

But I'm sorry "I'll kill you in the name of deliciousness" does not sound as cool as you think Izayoi.

It is a fun line though.

Annnd back to the Director and Munakata.

Where the Director is still impaled and bleeding.

Munakata calling the man who threw him off a glass balcony a coward.

I'm sorry but the flashback of him holding a child in the apocalypse and glaring at it 😂.

Incase I ever thought I was supposed to like you.

I mean I don't hate Munakata.

I wanna strangle him with his own sword but he's such an interesting character.

"You're resolve was terrifying and than you tucked your tail between your legs."

No he just learned how to act like a functioning human being.

You could learn a thing or two.

I do like the Directors speech to Munakata. Because he's talking to him like he's an equal.

Everyone we see talking to Munakata does so he's a King.

Juzo and Chisa once referred to him as the saviour of Hope's Peak in the despair arc.

Which I personally disagree with.

But you see that very few people talk to Munakata like he's a person.

Makoto tries to but Munakata has never seen Makoto as an equal nor does he like him.

But he does have some respect for the Director.

He's the chairman, he's fought with him.

And the only one who can really talk to Munakata as an equal and hope he might listen.

Makoto worrying about Miaya... Who's gonna tell him...?

Asahina going to fight Juzo, not a fight I expected.

Apparently as a boxer he only fights without weapons for oponnents he respects?

... So when you were beating the shit out of Hajime, it was because you respected him?

Uh huh.

Sure.

Honestly I think Asahina can take him. I just believe in my girl.

Also Juzo, can you give an answer that doesn't involve Munakata? Like why are you doing this, just you.

I get it's because you follow him, but you have you're own thoughts my guy.

Back to Seiko vs Izayoi.

I never thought I'd see so many fights in Danganronpa.

"Someone didn't listen to me."

To be fair Seiko, that could be anyone.

No one listens to you, it's kinda sad honestly.

Ruruka you are competing with Munakata for the most bizzare take of the series.

Seiko can't eat sweets and yeah maybe she could've asked about them. But you only ever ask her to do things for you.

Did you ever talk to her, like without needing something?

Ever bring up your talent that wasn't in a way to make her feel bad for not eating sweets?

... Of course not because you're guys friendship is the miscommunication trope.

I'm sorry you get no sympathy from me.

I can't believe I'm saying that but your making Munakata sound like a functioning human being.

And that's saying a lot.

Annnd they found out Seiko's forbidden action.... Fuck.

Back to Director and Munakata.

Ohhh ohhhh we're mentioning the Kamakura project, are we?

He's right though, Munakata's line of thinking is very similiar to what you'd expect the thought behind the Kamakura project was.

Munakata has outranked Ruruka in the insane takes fight, as he denies all of this and goes to kill the Director.

Because clearly this man telling me killing people for hope is bad and is impaled and slowly dying.

Using his last words to try and talk to me as a person, must the one killing people.

... How did this guy pass primary school? Never mind secondary school.

Yasuhiro my dude you don't want to come in here.

Although to be fair... Might be better than what you're going through.

Building shakes and Izayoi's found a secret Monkuma entrance.

Ruruka saying she'll spare Seiko's life if she has a sweet.

Knowing that will kill her... What is wrong with you?

And saying she'll spare her of Seiko kills Munakata, like she's gonna die either way.

Seiko don't, don't do this.

Also Ruruka you calling Munakata a self righteous bastard, while correct is incredible hypocritical of you.

Okay I get Seiko being on Munakata's side, she was expelled from Hope's Peak and he gave her a chance when no one else would.

Makes sense.

Destroying the lights so, that's one way of getting rid of your weakness.

Ruruka, Seiko would have still been your friend if you hadn't taken advantage of her.

And listened to her.

Seiko just wanted a friend.

It's a shame they couldn't have expressed that but it's too late, too much damage

I do like this inner monologue of both of them realising just how much the other meant to them.

God their friendship really is the miscommunication trope.

But I think it's too late.

Monaca back as Miaya just firing weapons and in doing so, allowing Asahina and Makoto to escape Juzo.

Just what is your game here, Monaca?

Unfortunately it knocked out Seiko.

I appreciate Kyoko trying to do detective work throughout all of this.

Munakata if you just waited 5 minutes the Directors gonna die anyway.

You really don't need to do this.

And I get why he'd accuse the Director but it just feels like he's gonna kill him because someone disagreed with him.

Than any actual belief he thinks the Director is the traitor.

"This is not the time nor the place for a mental sparring match, Chairman."

... That what the hell have we be doing for the past 2 episodes?

You're just mad he called you're argument, simple minded.

... Wait!

Waaaait.

The director knows who the attacker is?!

... Fucking hell... If he says the wrong person that he's just signed their death warrant.

Of course we have no idea but Munakata does.

Fuck.

This is not the person who you give that information too.

... And the Director's forbidden action was to answer a question with a lie.

That's smart, that's really smart.

I wondered why he always said I'm answering truthfully.

Holyshit.

... Munakata still thinking he's lying and killing him, what the fuck.

Man is insane.

Like I always try to hear him out, even if I definitely don't agree.

But man, even getting the answer from a man who can't lie, you can't believe him?

Because you have to be right?

My first guess is Chisa

This man doesn't care or have a reaction to anyone but Chisa.

But than Chisa is already dead so it can't be her?

And why would she be the first kill if she's the traitor.

And it can't be Juzo cos he'd have killed Makoto thrice over if it was him instead of Gozu.

And Monaca is still here, so it could just be her.

Soo its a mystery.

And this marks the true decent into madness for Munakata.

Annnd the Director is dead.

Seiko's back to normal, and crying cos she couldn't help anyone.

This poor girl.

Wonder what Cure W is.

And the timers hit 0.

Sleepy time.

#danganronpa 3: the end of hope's peak high school #Danganronpa #kyosuke munakata #seiko kimura #ruruka ando #sonosuke izayoi #aoi asahina #makoto naegi #kyoko kirigiri #Long post

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dododan · 10 days

Text

Forgotten Perseverance - Chapter 9

Masterpost

The confrontation with Doggo, made Kath realize how great hatred of people can be. The girl can't deal with it and doesn't want to burden the Windings family with more worries. But Sans sees that something is wrong. Although he himself does not know how to help Kath, he knows a person who will do a great job in this role.

I've already lost count of the time. I don't know what day it is. In the Underground they have a different calendar. The days are the same, but the dates are different. I am not able to tell what day it is on the Surface. Just is it important now?

Sans repeats that I should not lose hope. Someday I will come to the Surface. He says this when we are alone. So that no one can hear that I am afraid. I don't know if I will get my future back. Whether I will ever see my friends again. They probably blame themselves for what happened that day. So do I. I regret so many things. I feel like I'm carrying more and more weight, and it's slowly starting to overwhelm me. Sans doesn't know it, but he sees that something is happening. He just is. It's like he's giving me some silent support, but he doesn't expect me to open up.

I think he just wants to show me that way, that I'm not alone. He usually starts talking about the stars. I guess it's his way of warding off bad thoughts. Stars. Hope that keeps him in his senses. Probably like most of the monsters in the Underworld.

The dream that one day they will see the Surface. These conversations somehow help. I would like to one day tell him how I feel. I have a feeling that they understood me. Only for now I can't gather the courage.

Everyone is trying to make me feel wanted. I guess I'm not as good at hiding my emotions as I thought. Or they are just trying to be nice to me. That day as we returned from our “excursion” I was able to find out what Mr. Gaster had talked about with Sans in the morning. We came back tired. Mr. Gaster was waiting for us in the kitchen. He was peeling about the plat, sipping coffee. He put the cup down as soon as he saw us.

"And how was the trip?" Dr. Gaster asked, coming up to us.

We looked at each other a little confused. No one knew what to answer. What could we supposedly say? We almost started a fight in the middle of the road? Sans fighting with some monster? The guards don't give a damn about their duties? Fortunately, Papyrus saved us. He immediately started telling what good hamburgers he ate from Grillby. Too enthused to say anything else. Unless the little guy is smarter than I thought and well aware of his innocence. Dr. Gaster lifted his younger son in his arms.

"So I am to understand that you enjoyed it,” he announced, and Papyrus hugged him." Well, I think it's time to clean up the studio,” Dr. Gaster added, putting his son down. Slightly disappointed Papyrus stepped back." Perhaps you can help me?”

I didn't have time to answer anything. Honestly, I would rather rest then help. Unfortunately, it is not appropriate to refuse.

"Sure" replied Sans, heading towards the stairs." Come on, we'll make it quick and we can watch some movie,” he added, walking up the stairs.

"Let's go,” said Gaster, putting his hand on my shoulder. "Come on Papy! It won't be so bad!”

"Okay,” replied Papyrus, dragging his feet.

Mr. Gaster's cabinet was located between Sansa's room and Papyrus' room. My parents also had such a cabinet. They usually sat there in the evenings, instead of sitting with me and my sister. The four of us walked to the door, when suddenly Sans put a blindfold on me.

"What are you doing?" I asked, stretching my hands forward reflexively.

"I'm putting on a blindfold,” replied Sans, tying it off. I also heard the creaking of the door and Papyrus' quiet laughter. I didn't really understand it. I didn't even guess what they did for me. I didn't expect it.

“Just why did I need it?" I asked when Sans put his hands on my shoulders.

"Because it's a special cleaning,” he replied, walking forward. I took a few steps forward." Watch the threshold." I took a bigger step, avoiding the obstacle.

"Should I be afraid?" I asked uncertain of what they wanted to show me. It must have been something big if they couldn't show it to me downstairs.

"I don't know. It can make you ashen with electricity if you're careless,” Sans said, letting go of my shoulders.

“Sans,” I heard Gaster's stern voice from the side. I knew that Sans was joking. I had provoked him to it myself. I laughed under my breath." You can already take off Kath's headband,” Gaster added softly." I hope you will like it. I took a deep breath. I put my hands up and then untied the headband from the back of my head. Did he have to make such a knot? Instead of struggling to untie it, I simply slipped it off my head. I took a few steps forward looking around. I saw a room with light-colored walls. Cream-colored. The ceiling, on the other hand, was dark. Navy blue. Small lamps were located on it. They seemed to be hung in messy patterns. I had the impression that they reminded me of something. By the window stood a bed. There was white bedding. Next to it was a tall wooden closet. Opposite it was a desk. On it stood a cup with pencils and pens. There were also several shelves. Part of it was empty, and on the rest stood several books. The same ones I had read with Sans.

"I guess this silence can be taken as admiration,” announced Sans, leaning against a cabinet.

"It's amazing,” I said, continuing to admire the room.

"And you haven't seen the best yet,” said Sans, walking over to the switch.

He turned off the side lights and then turned on the small lights on the ceiling. He was right. It was impressive. The lights were arranged in constellations. There was a big car and a small car. A polar star. Orion and several others. It didn't necessarily reflect the night sky, but it was still wonderful.

" Incredible,” I repeated.

I couldn't find another term. Sans laughed quietly. And Gaster stood at the back with Papyrus.

"Why didn't I know anything?" asked reproachfully Paps, looking at his father.

"Because you're a talker,” replied Sans, walking up to his brother." You don't know how to keep your mouth shut.

The brothers teased like this for a few more minutes. I was grateful to them for this gift. I didn't know how I should repay them. I felt really happy. A corner of one's own is always important. I had a little more privacy with it. I was also able to be alone when I needed it. I was happy, but also sad. I know that Mr. Gaster didn't want to nail me. But my own room made me painfully aware that I would be staying here for a while. Maybe for longer or....

I can't think about it.

...

A few days have passed since the unpleasant encounter with Doggo. Somehow I didn't feel like leaving the house anymore. At least for a while. I didn't want another fight because of me. I bring enough problems to the Windings family anyway. I don't want to add more to them.

I glanced toward the door of Kath's room. She was spending a lot of time in it. Not that I minded. She would just lock herself in there as soon as we started the topic of the Underground tour. She says she's tired or something else. Papyrus didn't notice. He didn't understand it yet. Father was too busy to notice. He said something about the core. They seem to be having trouble stabilizing it. This could have explained the small earthquakes in Hotland and around Waterfall. Unfortunately, no one wanted to say anything. Neither my father nor any of his employees. I didn't really know what to think about this. On the one hand, I was afraid that it was something serious, and on the other hand, my father ran secret projects and was under no obligation to tell me about them. He took his work really seriously.

As time went by, even if I knew about his idea of stabilizing the core I still wouldn't have done anything. I wouldn't have been able to save him and others. I was a child. I don't think even my father predicted that he and his team would die as a result of the accident. They failed. It was the Alphys who managed to find a solution. This is another thing that monsters prefer to keep quiet about.

Katharine really didn't want to leave. Her earlier enthusiasm had dimmed. I understood that, but she couldn't sit in the room all the time. I thought I could get her out somewhere less popular. If she could be persuaded. I didn't want her to lock herself away. She was already lonely enough. I decided to talk to her. Maybe somehow a simple wringing of hands would help her.

At the time, I didn't know what it meant to lose my family. I thought that talking might somehow help. However, all Kath needed at the time was understanding, time and space. The latter I didn't give her much. I thought that occupying her thoughts would somehow help. That's why I talked to her about the stars. I simply tried to be there for her. Nevertheless, I was not successful in persuading her to go out. For this reason, I invited Aplyhs to join us. She was going to drop in for dinner. The doorbell rang. Papyrus immediately broke away from drawing and ran to the door.

A blast of cold air rushed in. I heard Paps and Alphys cheering from the living room.

"Why don't you close this door?" I shouted to them, without taking my eyes off the cookbook. " Do you want to make a snowman in the house or what?

I heard laughter and then a slam. I turned around for a moment glancing at the living room. The lizard and my brother were heading toward the stairs. I guessed that they were going to Katharine. A moment later I heard them all walking downstairs. Alphys poked Kath from time to time, whispering something in her ear. Maybe it was some kind of girl thing? I don't know. She never wrote down what Al told her.

After lunch we spent time in the living room. We mostly changed channels. There was nothing interesting on TV. We had only seven channels in the Underground. Four channels with regional news. One historical, science and children's. After the second round, we decided to play VHS tapes. Papyrus sat at the cabinet, taking out some cassette every now and then.

“And can we watch E.T?" asked Papyrus, holding the cassette in his hands. Looking out of it was a gray wrinkled alien.

“You've already watched it about five times. Aren't you bored with it?" asked Sans, picking himself up against the back of the couch.

“Please!" said Papyrus, making buttery eyes.

At this time Kath and Alphys were talking about something. I paid more attention to them when Kath went upstairs. Papyrus had already managed to put a cassette into the player. He was setting the right parameters without turning his head to us.

“What did she go for?" I asked Alphys, straightening up.

“To get the phone,” said Al, reaching for her bag, which was lying by the couch.

"Whose?" I asked, not knowing what was going on.

I didn't know at the time that Kath had been carrying a phone from the beginning. None of us checked her backpack at the time. We didn't know what she had with her.

"Her,” said Alphys, without even looking at me.

She took out a small pocket knife from her bag. A moment later Kath came down, holding a phone in her hand. She ran over to the couch, handing the lizard woman her phone.

"Are you sure you can fix it? " Katharina asked, looking at Al.

The lizard woman looked at the phone carefully. It had a cracked glass and several dents. Alphys picked up a pocket knife, sliding out a screwdriver. She levered up the back casing, beginning her work.

"Why didn't you ask me to do this?" I asked, leaning back. I looked into the eyes of Kath, who only shrugged her shoulders.

"You know about the stars, I didn't think you also knew about electronics,” replied Kath, straightening up.

“You could have asked,” I said, following the teenager with my eyes. She sat down next to me in an armchair, tucking her legs under her chin.

"You can be quiet,” Alphys silenced us, taking her eyes off the unfolded phone." I'm trying to focus.

Both Kath and I shut up. I wasn't angry that she didn't ask me. I was more a little offended. It was hard for me to say why. However, I had no reason to be angry or anything like that. It was just... It's hard to describe. Maybe I was jealous? I myself am not sure to this day. I just wanted her to come to me with this problem. I was pulled out of my musings by Alphys' voice.

"Fixed,” said the lizard woman, looking at Kath." And what do you think of some improvements?" She asked." For now you only have basic functions and I connected it to our telephone network.

"How much will it cost to use this network?" asked the teenager, looking doubtfully at me and AL. I was surprised by her question. So was our friend. In The Underground, the telephone network is completely free. The King recognized that communication is one of the most important things. Everyone in the house has a landline, connected to a switchboard." Forget about my question. Let's get back to these improvements,” Kath added after a while, seeing our faces." What do you propose?”

“First and foremost UnderNet,” said Alphys, tapping the glass with a screwdriver." This is our social center. Most monsters have it. You could chat with whomever you want and none of the monsters would guess that you are human,” she elaborated on her statement." You could find out what's going on in the Underworld and where you'd better not go if you wanted to take a little trip. We can upload it right away if you want,” concluded Al.

It was clear that Kath was seriously thinking about it. I myself don't know if it would be a good idea. The girl could run into some group that feeds hatred of people. And such things are rather not nice to read. Besides, what would she do if some monster wanted to meet her? But on the other hand, she would have an easier time dealing with Alphys or Saera. I glanced out of the corner of my eye at Papyrus. He was completely engrossed in the movie. He was in no way disturbed by our conversation.

"I don't see any objection,” Kath smiled, leaning over the phone.

Within minutes, the Undernet app was ready for use. The girls quickly tackled setting up an account and setting up privacy. The only problem that arose was choosing a race.

"And what do you suggest?" Kath asked, looking through the list with races.

"Rather some common one,” replied the lizard woman, looking into space." Maybe a dog monster or a cat monster. They are quite a numerous race,” she added, turning to Kath.

" Maybe, and what do you think Sans?" The teenager asked me.

"It's your choice. Most monsters don't pay attention to it anyway,” I said.

"You help us a lot,” said Alphys with a wince, turning to Kath." Then how about a dog?

In response, Katharina only nodded her head. After a while I received an invitation from BlueMoon. I accepted it right away.

"Why BlueMoon?" I asked.

"Why LazyBones?" Kath asked with a smile.

"Point for you,” I replied." Then what other upgrades do you want to upload to her. Because apart from Undernet, the rest of it is not too worthwhile,” I added glancing at Al. The rest of the functions required the use of magic, so their upgrades rather ran out.

“I was thinking of upgrading the camera and the multidimensional clipboard....”

"After all, she doesn't have magic, so how would it work,” I interrupted her.

The multidimensional clipboard or pocket didn't work without using the user's magic. It was enough to point the camera at something and use magic while taking a picture. The item immediately went to the phone's clipboard. It could be summoned at any time. The capacity of the clipboard depended on the user's magic, but no one used it to move houses. Because why would they? Usually some small things were stored in it.

“You don't know that,” replied a slightly indignant Alphys. " People may have forgotten how to use it, but it certainly couldn't disappear.

"Unused magic stagnates. You know this well yourself,” I replied.

There are monsters that don't use magic for everyday life. Even if we are made of it doesn't mean we have to use it. Monsters that consider magic superfluous or have very little of it don't use it. Because of which it thickens and cannot be formed at will. It cannot materialize outside the monster's body.

"This is the case with monsters. Maybe it is different in humans,” replied Alphys.

She had many theories about magic. Among them about human Determination. However, without the right equipment, she could not test them. At least at the time. To this day I find it hard to believe that most of them turned out to be true.

"Then why don't we check it somehow?" Kath interjected. “I may not know what stagnant magic means, but we can check on your phones if I can open this whole pocket,” suggested the teenager, watching us.

I looked at Alphys, and she looked at me. Trying to open the pocket on either of our phones wouldn't hurt her. And it would end our little argument. As kids, I always argued with Alphys about various aspects of science. We each had a different point of view on an issue. Maybe that's why we worked so well together in the lab.

“Why not?" said Alphys, putting Kath's phone down on the table." We can check it on mine,” she added, taking her cell phone out of her pants pocket.

She went into the applications of the large-size pocket. She opened it and handed the phone to Kath.

"Choose what object you want to summon. Some small, tiny thing,” the lizard woman instructed her. Kath listened carefully to her occasionally nodding. When she selected something she showed the display." A keychain. I think it can be for a start,” Alphys explained further, while gesturing with her hands." Now the most important thing. You click the keychain icon and have to imagine magic flowing through your hand. Then imagine that your magic....

"She has no magic,” I interjected.

Alphys immediately turned to me with that deadly gaze of hers. I smiled slightly. I liked to annoy her from time to time. And it was quite a challenge, because she was one of the few who could ignore my jokes.

"Coming back,” Alphys began again, no longer paying attention to me. " Imagine this object appearing in front of the phone. It's like it's forming from magic. You don't have to rush or stress. If necessary, I can explain it again,” finished Alphys, waiting for Kath's reaction.

The teenager took a deep breath. She acted as if she was preparing for a tough crossing on which her life depended. In my opinion, she was exaggerating a bit, however, for me it was an everyday occurrence. Magic had existed forever and ever. But for her, this was something new. Even though she had already spent some time in the Underworld and had become accustomed to telekinesis many things continued to be new to her. She was like a child who sees snow for the first time. Eyes full of curiosity and a certain ray that is hard to extinguish. I fully understood this. However, I also needed time to understand that what is normal for me is something magical for her. Literally.

"Are you ready?" Alphys asked, watching her friend closely.

Although she didn't show it, I knew Al was stressed too. Seemingly people didn't have magic anymore, however, you never know. The people who ended up here were not ordinary people. Bravery somehow passed the traps in the Ruins and broke into the laboratory. No one knew how. In the same way, Kindness handled the Ruins without a problem. Many of the traps required magic. Maybe people possessed something like it? And if someone can't control their magic then they are a danger. Magic is the soul. The soul is magic. At least in monsters. It is subject to all kinds of emotions. Virgin magic is dangerous because it is untamed. That's why young monsters are watched over to master the basics as quickly as possible. Concentration and calmness. Uncontrolled magic can do a lot of damage, more so than its unskillful use. I glanced at Kath. She had closed her eyes. I guess she wanted to help herself somehow this way. To visualize what she wanted to do. It must have been really strange and stressful for her. However, what happened most surprised me. I think it surprised all of us.

A purple glow appeared around Kath's fingers. Barely visible, but still. I straightened up. Alphys looked at me. In her eyes I could see that familiar gleam. The flame that had just flared up and tormented her for many years. Neither of us dared to speak up. We didn't want to distract Katharina. We could see that she was concentrating as best she could. She still had her eyes closed. The glow around her hand shone stronger than before. With much more force and intensity. Even Papyrus, who was busy with the film, turned around. He wanted to say something, but with a hand gesture I ordered him to remain silent. I think he was as amazed as we were. He, too, realized that people DID NOT HAVE MAGIC. Then a purple glow surrounded the phone. There was far too much of it, but the possibility of breaking the phone didn't matter to us at the time. We had discovered something that was a phenomenon in monster science. Human magic could open up new possibilities for us, and most importantly get us out of the Underworld. Or at least contribute to it in some way. Maybe we didn't need human souls at all?

The purple magic soared a few inches above the phone. It began to form into a flower-shaped pendant. After a while it appeared. It was surrounded by magic. He levitated a few centimeters above the phone.

"Amazing!" shouted Papyrus suddenly.

It knocked all of us out of the situation, especially Kath. The purple magic instantly disappeared, and the key ring fell on the table with a clatter. The teenager looked at us and then at the key ring on the table. She herself could not believe what she was seeing. She was totally shocked. Probably more than we were. She opened her mouth, but after a moment she closed it. I don't think she knew what to say at the moment. She looked at Alphys, then at me. She waited. This was one of the few moments in my life where I didn't know what to say. However, I knew what had to be done. My father had to know about this.

"This is fantastic!" exclaimed Alphys, snapping everyone out of their reverie." Can you do it again?" She added quickly, watching Katharina closely.

The teenager was slightly abashed looking at her friend. It was clear that she herself was surprised, or perhaps more terrified, by what she had done. She had used magic. The question was whether it was her own, or some side effect of the treatment. I couldn't risk something happening to her.

"Yes!" shouted Papyrus joyfully."Repeat it!”

"No!" I interjected. Everyone looked at me. Alphys was probably a little angry. Paps was puzzled, and Kath relaxed. She rather didn't want to repeat it for now." We don't know if it's her magic or maybe a side effect of the magic treatment,” I replied." She might as well pass out to us in a moment or.... " What if it's just her magic? That's normal then,” interrupted Alphys. She stubbornly stood by her point. I understood that she had her theories. She understood them and insisted on them, but there were other options." The treatment could have awakened her!

"Exactly. Think. Unstable awakened magic that will take years to stabilize,” I replied. I hoped that the gravity of the situation would reach her. Either magic poisoning or unstable. And it's hard to determine which is worse." Either magic poisoning and any use of magic can lead to harm,” I added.

Either theory could have been plausible at the time. However, magic poisoning is easier to cure than to teach someone who has never had with magic. The gravity of the situation seemed to be slowly getting to Alphys. The initial excitement was giving way to doubt.

" It's best to investigate it right away,” I began.

"How to investigate?" Katharina asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

We visibly frightened her with our theories. She probably didn't understand much of what we were saying at the time.

"It's nothing scary. It's enough to bring out your soul,” replied Alphys casually, turning to Kath.

The teenager momentarily turned pale. We didn't know that people can't see their souls. And even more so that some don't believe in their existence. Not all information reached the Underground.

"Kath, it doesn't hurt,” Alphys added quickly, seeing the horror painted on Kath's face." I can show it to you on mine,” suggested the lizard woman.

“Maybe we should tell Mr. Gaster about it, though?" Al's assurances did not particularly convince her.

She preferred to see it with her own eyes. I don't blame her a bit. None of us came up with the idea of explaining the course of the battle to Kath. Between people or monsters, souls did not appear. They didn't come out. Only during mixed fights did human souls appear. It is not known what is caused by this difference. When a monster and a human fight, the human soul appeared before the human. It's just that the last human hit the Underworld several years ago. We simply forgot to tell her about it. Somehow there was no need. Alphys pulled out her soul. Above her hand levitated a small inverted heart. The essence of existence. Crystal white. Filled with love, pity and compassion. Delicate and fragile. Next to it were numbers. One spoke of the current level of HP life and the other of the level she had. However, human ones are different.

"Now, can I check yours?" She asked while hiding her soul.

Kath looked at her. She took a deep breath. She nodded as a sign that Alphys could begin. The lizard woman brought her hand close to Katharina's chest. A yellow glow appeared around Al's fingers, and a faint purple glow surrounded Kath's chest. Then a purple heart appeared. Katharina's stats looked okay. The level somehow cared little for us, we were more concerned about HP. With magic poisoning, it drops slowly with each use of magic.

If it was indeed poisoning then the HP level should have dropped a few points, but it was within normal range. There should also be some visible cracks or discoloration indicative of foreign magic.

This meant only one thing.

"Congratulations,” said a proud Alphys, smiling slightly." You have just awakened your magic.

...

"You are idiots," announced Gaster, facing us. We sat on the couch, listening to his lecture.

He saw us pull out Kath's soul. Surprised, he asked what was going on. Then Papyrus replied that we suspected Katharina of being poisoned by magic. We didn't have time to say anything. Father immediately told us to stop. He said how dangerous it was, that we should call him right away. He still said something about the effects of taking out the soul during poisoning. However, I stopped listening to him. Instead, Katharina grew paler and paler. Father was able to beat a lying man. Not only was Kath horrified by our theories" at which one could still be wrong, but father's theories were another matter.

"What's done is done," Father said, wrinkling his forehead. He always did this when he was upset about something. He walked around the room." Katharina, come on. I'll take you to the lab," he said, walking over to the coat rack. He took a bunch of keys out of his pocket." I will examine you properly," he added this time, looking at me.

I was a little ashamed. I could have thought this through better. I didn't want to put Kath in danger, and I did it unconsciously.

I stood up abruptly, heading towards my father.

"I will go with you," I replied. However, my enthusiasm was quickly dampened by my father." I will give her encouragement together with Paps.

"No," Gaster said sternly. Fastening the buttons of his white apron.

"But..." I began, but my father silenced me with a hand gesture.

At this point I had nothing to say. Father could not be persuaded when brought to the brink of patience. Neither I nor Papyrus knew any such trick.

"I would like them to come with us," she said shyly." Alphys, too.”

I guess Kath's terrified face and her glazed eyes convinced him then. He sighed heavily.

"So be it for you," said Gaster in a tired voice, creasing his eyebrows again.

Alphys smiled. She stood next to Katharina, touching her shoulder as a sign of comfort. Paps ran up to Kath and grabbed her hand. He pulled her toward her father. Gaster put his hand on my shoulder. He tightened his fingers around my arm. I supposedly knew how to teleport on my own, but it was a long way from Snowdin to Core. I might not be able to make it. It was better if it was Father who teleported us all. He had no problems with it. After all, he was a Boss. A high-level monster. Father had many fights to his credit. However, he never told us about it, and when we started the topic he kept quiet. After a while we let it go and didn't ask about it again.

But going back.

In the blink of an eye we found ourselves in Father's laboratory. The light came on automatically. I squinted to avoid being blinded. A tall room with lots of pipes near the ceiling. Most of them were connected to the Core, but I don't really know what they were for. Part of them were responsible for cooling the Core, and the rest I don't know. Somehow I never took any interest in it. The rest of my father's workshop was occupied by tables collapsed with a mass of papers. Some of them were notes on his research. On one of them, in addition to the papers, were tools and some strange-looking devices. I didn't quite know what they were for. Against one wall were glass cabinets. They were all full of even stranger devices. All of them locked. Father walked away from us. He approached one of his posts. Paps and I had been here several times, so the appearance of this room did not surprise us. However, things were different for our female friends. They looked around, admiring everything. Alphys looked at everything with bated breath. She seemed to have forgotten why we came here. Kath, on the other hand, despite her initial interest, anxiety began to accompany her again. She tensed up. I approached her, putting my hand on her shoulder.

"Hey, you don't have to worry about it so much," I said.

She, in response, only smiled unwillingly.

"Kath, come here," my father called out, not even turning to us.

The teenage girl looked at me. I smiled encouragingly. We both approached my father. He pulled most of the papers to one side, so that there was relative order on one side. A microscope was lying there, as well as several syringes. Before either of us had time to say anything, Father began to explain to Kath what it would consist of.

"It won't even hurt I'll just take your blood," Father said, taking the syringe out of the package." There is magic in the blood, but it is not visible to the eye. It is examined under this microscope. The magic particles in the blood resemble red blood cells a bit," he tapped his finger on the microscope, then took the syringe." Put out your hand," he instructed Katharina. The teenager rolled up her sleeve, giving her hand to Gaster. The man efficiently inserted the needle and drew blood. He removed the needle, handing Kath a cotton swab." And after a shout." He added by placing the blood on a glass plate. Katharina applied the swab to the wound, looking at her father in front of her shoulder.

"What does an infection with magic look like?" asked the teenager timidly.

"Magic in a healthy monster should flow freely. The magic particles should be the same size and shape," the father replied, continuing to work at the microscope." Infection, on the other hand, is the mixing of foreign magic with one's own magic. Foreign magic that is incompatible with one's own magic causes the particles to merge and become deformed, the father said.

"It's like with people and their blood types," Katharina stated.

I honestly didn't really know what she meant by these groups. I was not very familiar with human anatomy. Such basics I knew, because several species of monsters had a similar structure, but none of us had blood. The father looked at the teenager for a moment. He looked as if he was trying to remember something.

"In short, yes," he replied after a moment. He looked back at Kath's blood sample through the microscope. "Hm...”

"What is that squint supposed to mean?" I asked.

Father had a mannerism. When something caught his interest he would mutter under his breath. He had to be brought to the ground to say what it was about.

"It's not an infection," he announced, pulling away from the microscope. At these words Alphys, who had been looking at some large machine in the corner of the room earlier, looked in our direction." It's a theory for now, but the magic treatment has somehow awakened Katharina's magic. I'll have to do more research," he added, getting up from the table. He headed toward one of the closets.

"Wait!" I said, following him. "After all, it's impossible for people to have magic!" I replied." After all, you yourself thought so before!”

“Sans" began his father. Whenever he started like this it was known that a serious conversation was preparing."Theories are theories. Some are subject to change. Others are undermined, and still others gain confirmation," said father, opening a glass cabinet."When you don't believe something and you have the facts in front of you then you have two choices", he continued his argument, looking for something. "You can deny the facts and pretend they don't exist," he said, turning to me."Or Accept them and expand your horizons", concluded my father, walking back toward Kath.

She stood by her side excitedly. She was saying something about learning and getting excited about magic. Papyrus, on the other hand, was running around the lab looking at everything. Somehow he had little interest in what we were doing. Seemingly father was right that I should accept that Kath has magic. However, I was afraid of what was involved. Human magic apparently was in them all the time, but dormant and forgotten. Maybe that's why their souls could break the barrier.

King Asgore had several human souls. They were to be used to open the barrier. The most my father knew about it. I doubted that he would do anything to Katharina. He was not that kind of person. But the discovery of magic in humans created new opportunities to destroy the barrier. I didn't want Kath to feel obliged to help us somehow. The barrier was our" the monsters'" problem. Even if Kath was stuck here, we couldn't use her that way. Besides, we didn't know how her magic would develop. She might as well have been very weak. I approached the rest. Father was explaining to Kath what he had found in her blood.

"It is possible that the magic we gave you when you got here awakened your own. I don't know yet in what way. Maybe it was compatible with her to some degree," my father announced, placing some instruments on the table." It will take me a few days to determine as well as to check that your magic itself is not harmful when used," added Gaster, looking at the sample through a microscope." It will be safer if you don't try to use magic until then. We should still have magic stabilizing pills at home.

"Stabilizing magic?" Katharina asked, probably not fully understanding what my father was talking about.

"When monsters have their magic awakened it is unstable. Young monsters can't use it," I began to explain." Magic is affected by their emotions and they can destroy something by accident. Therefore, until they learn to control it they get pills that do it for them," I added.

"That's right," my father supported me, not taking his eyes off the microscope. He only looked at the sheets of paper and wrote something on them." One a day should be enough.

...

Today was a strange day. No. Strange is an understatement.

I discovered my magic. It sounds so unreal. As if it's all a dream and I'm about to wake up. Only nothing like that is happening. This is now my new reality. I have to get used to it. Mr. Gaster told her not to try to use magic for now. He wants to study it better and find out if I can use it safely. I didn't understand much of what Mr. Gaster said about the stability of magic. He said he could explain it all to me again if necessary and answer any questions I had. Alphys is very excited about our discovery. She was very fascinated by it. She told me many of her theories about human magic and something called Determination. However, she didn't explain it to me. She was too caught up in her theories to be able to talk to her in any way. Papyrus didn't understand much of what happened in the lab. He's only a child, so it's normal for him not to be interested in such things. However, he was happy that he would be able to teach me magic.

Sans, on the other hand...

I'm not sure if he wasn't disappointed sometimes. Maybe more worried?

When I asked him about it he would change the subject. I don't know what it is about my magic that makes Sans so worried. Maybe later he will tell me when he himself is ready. For now I'm not supposed to learn magic. Alphys convinced me to give the Underworld a second chance. We were to go to a less traveled place in the Underworld than the town of Snowdin. Alphys wanted to show me the Dump. It doesn't sound very inviting, but the name is supposedly misleading. The Dump is supposedly where things from my world go.

Al reportedly found many interesting things there. She also managed to put together a computer from parts she found there. Sans also likes to go there. She finds new books on astronomy there, and Papyrus looks for new movies and toys. Some of these things are broken, but no one bothers to fix them. They have made me curious. I can't wait to go there.

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