What would happen after asylumswap pap ecaceped? What would he do? .
Papyrus blasts his way up from the bowels of the facility to the upper floors. Once there, after ensuring that his brother has escaped, he begins massacring doctors and patients alike, spreading carnage and gore all over the pristine walls and floors; no one is safe from his wrath.
The only one willing to see him as a person, not a criminal or a science project.
He approaches her with soft footsteps as she cowers away from him in a corner of the dark children’s playroom, now painted a sickening red.
Papyrus knows he must look terrifying, drenched in the blood of his victims. He is silent as he gets slowly closer.
He doesn’t blame her for her tears and sobbed incoherencies at him. Or her soft screams and weak struggling as he picks her up and takes her from that place.
Papyrus decides it’d be best to teleport away from the asylum and all the chaos he’s caused.
Get to his safe house. A place where he and his angel won’t be bothered.
I saw one of your post mentioning your social anxiety. How do you get over it? I work with dogs and have always worked with animals with EVERY job I've had (mammal intern at the zoo, dog kennel attendent, and now dog playroom attendant). They're soooo much easier to deal with. Talking to people makes me really uncomfortable. I can't make eye contact, I stumble over my words, and I panic and freeze. It's a scary situation for me. How do you do it?
Honestly it’s a constant struggle but mostly I just have to like detach myself from the situation, give myself a sort of script to work off of, and just focus 100% on doing the job, remembering that I know what I’m doing and i don’t have to do anything else
hello all this is a usuk nsfw omegaverse fic !! pls like and/or reblog if u liked so i know that u liked :’)
It had been years since Arthur had felt this good on account of his stupidly hard-working, stupidly oblivious husband. That wasn’t to say that Alfred never pleasured him. He certainly did – the man was even too touchy at times. But apparently something had gone on at Alfred’s work that day, since the Alpha came home with a palpable frustration and an itch for his mate.
A stuffed lion, several worn dolls and a teddy bear with a missing
eye sat in a congenial group on the attic playroom floor. The early autumn sun
slanted through the little windows, making the air hot and still and
illuminating the drifting dust motes. She picked up a chipped cup and poured
the imaginary tea.
Downstairs her family was busy preparing for their departure. The
furniture lay under white shrouds. The shutters were closed. Mother’s voice
echoed through the house, ordering the servants to attend to last minute tasks.
“Violet,” she admonished, “You always eat too many
scones.” The doll slumped in silent attrition. She poured more tea.
The trunks were loaded, the locks checked and rechecked. Mother and
her brothers and sisters and the servants climbed into the four waiting
carriages, amid much commotion, and rattled away. The sun was slanting low
through the little attic windows and dusk was filling the playroom when she
noticed the fading light, the unusual silence.
She stood up and listened. The house was quiet as the grave. She
went to the window. The driveway was empty. She’d been forgotten.
She ran to the door, twisted the knob in a panic. It refused to
budge. They hadn’t realized she was in here, her racing mind thought, and they
had locked her in when they locked up the house. She beat against the door with
her tiny bird-like fists, screamed, cried, but no-one came.
The playroom was
almost dark now, her tea party guests indistinct lumps on the floor amid the
growing shadows. She fumbled her way across the room until she found the doll
cradle. There was an old baby blanket inside. She went to a corner of the
playroom and wrapped the blanket around herself, a huddled, frightened ball.
Eventually she fell asleep.
“The worst part about it all,” the docent says as he leads
the party down the narrow hall to the playroom, “is that the door wasn’t
locked at all.”
He turns the knob, throws open the door. He relishes this bit of
drama, considers it a fitting end to the tour of the historic house. The
visitors crowd into the charmingly antique room, furnished with relics from the
past. A cradle, some teacups, a teddy bear with a missing eye. The late summer
sun slants through the little windows, making the room hot and still.
“The knob was merely tricky, hard to turn. Sometimes it got
stuck. The door was unlocked when they found her, poor thing.”
She sits in a corner,
invisible. She waits to be found. When she is alone, she has tea parties.
(For Anon!) - - You sang along to “1, 2, 3, 4” by Lee Hi as it played from your living room through bluetooth (you were in the kitchen) as you danced around. Your 3 year old son, Sehun, was in his playroom, not minding that his mommy was practically having her own little dance party in the kitchen. Even though he was 3, if you asked him, we would say he was used to it.
You were in the middle of swaying your hips when you felt a strong grip on your waist & you screamed, jolting in their grip as you turned around.
Your eyes widen as you saw your husband, Kris, standing there with the biggest smile on his face. “Oh my god, Kris!” You jumped into his arms & he laughed, cupping your butt to support you. “You’re home early!—Wait, why’re you home early?” You asked him, placing your hands on his shoulders. He gave you a soft kiss before saying, “I got off early.” He gave you a look, “& now I know what you do when I’m gone.” He smirked, “You know, you looked pretty sexy swaying your hips like that. You should dance like that for me one night.” He winked before giving you another kiss. Your cheeks turned crimson & you giggled, “Shut up.”
He carried you to the living room, turning the song off with your phone. He set you on the couch, laying on top of you. He kissed you again & rested his hand on your jean clad upper thigh, lightly stroking it with his finger tips.
You placed your hands on his cheeks, pulling away from the kiss, “As much as I would love for this to go farther, I’m not alone.” You tapped his nose & he smiled, “Speaking of the little monkey, where is he?” Kris looked around the living room.
“In his play room.” You said.
You & Kris both got up from the couch & held hands, linking fingers, as you walked to Sehun’s playroom where you heard him making loud ‘vroom vroom’ noises.
You gave Kris the ‘sh’ motion with your finger as you walked in the room first. “Hey boo.” You said, walking over to him, sitting down next to him.”
“Hi mommy.” He continued to play with his cars, crashing them together & having them chase each other.
“What would you do if mommy said she had a surprise for you?” You got right to it. You arched a brow at him as you saw excitement & curiosity take over his face.
“What is it? What is it?!” He got up, bouncing up & down, his hands dropping the cars.
You laughed & called out, “Come in!”
When Kris walked in the room, his arms expanded out as if he was waiting for a hug as he got down to Sehun’s height.
Sehun gasped loudly, “Daddy!” His voice shook & he almost tripped as he ran to his daddy, straight into his arms. He wrapped his arms around his neck & Kris lifted him up, hugging him & kissing his cheek.
“Hey buddy,” Kris said, “Did you miss me?” He asked as he walked over to a smiley you, sitting next to you.
Sehun nodded fast, lifting his head to look at his father right in the eyes. “I did, daddy. This much!” He opened his little arms as much as he could & you giggled as Kris dramatically gasped, “Wow! That’s a lot. Wouldn’t you say so mommy?” He asked, looking over to you. You nodded too, “That IS a lot!”
“But daddy’s home early & he’s here now & he just wants to spend it with his little boy & pretty wife.” He winked at you & you bit your lip, smiling.
“Lets play save the princess, daddy!” Sehun chanted, climbing out of his father’s hold to his toy chest where he picked up your princess tiara, his silver prince crown & Kris’s moss green t-shirt that’s supposed to represent him as the dragon.
“Lets do it!” - - - - “You’ll never be able to save her!” Kris said to Prince Sehun, as he paced back & forth on his hands & knees, guarding you as you were behind him, pretending to have your hands tied behind your back like a prisoner.
“Oh Prince Sehun, won’t you save me?” You dramatically said over Kris’s shoulder.
Sehun fixed his crown, grabbing his sword from the floor & pretended to fight the evil dragon who held the princess captive.
“Oh!” Sehun thrusted the plastic sword in between Kris’s forearm & waist, making it look like it penetrated him from the side, “You got me!” He then fell to the ground as if he were dying, “You won this round Prince Sehun! You won this round..” Kris then closed his eyes, poking his tongue out from the side of his mouth mimicking as if he was dead.
“Prince Sehun!” You happily said as he rushed over to you & you hugged him. “You did it! You fought the evil dragon & saved me!” You peppered his cheeks with kisses & he giggled.
“You’re saved princess! Now we shall escape the evil dragon’s dungeon!” He grabbed your hand & dragged you to the other side of his playroom, “We’re safe now.” He gave you a toothy smile. You smiled at him, lifting him into your lap as you sat down, “Thank you my prince.” - - - - After 2 1/2 hours of playing together, Sehun ended up passing out on the love seat in the living room while you & Kris picked up the left over toys that were sprawled around the living room carpet.
“Ahh, that was fun.” Kris laughed, throwing the stuffed bear into the toy bin.
“It was, it was.” You yawned, stretching your arms over your head.
“You tired?” Kris asked, walking over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, tugging on you to get closer to him. You nodded, resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes. “Playing with a hyperactive 3 year old for almost 3 hours can be tiring..” You lightly smiled. “But you were here, which made it even more fun. …. Thank you. Thank you for coming home early & playing with us & letting Sehun create memories like this with us.”
Kris stroked your hair. He walked you backwards until the back of your knees touched the couch & he laid you slowly back down on the couch. “I love doing this. With you two.” He bent down, kissing your forehead. “I wouldn’t mind doing this everyday. Hell, I’d love it if it meant being with you two.” You smiled weakly at him, “It’s been a long 2 1/2 hours for us, so take a nap & just rest. Let me take over because you need a break—you deserve one.”
“Thank you baby.” You said again, pecking his lips before you let yourself go & crash on the couch.
Kris stood back up & began to continue to clean the living room.
"Sneaky little one! When did you think of surprising me like this?" (your choice of my muse)
(going for ares if that is okay)
Puck smiled as he looked up at his master. He had decorated the entirety of their spare room to become a playroom for them, with the walls a dark red and everything else either red or black. On the selves was loads of toys and other things for them to use. He was incredibly proud of himself for doing all this without his master knowing. “a couple of months ago when we broke the bed and had to sleep in here for a couple of days” he said sweetly. “do you like having a playroom now?”
Proof that my house is haunted by a meme loving ghost:
When my brother was a baby my mom said that he used to stare at the corner of the playroom (now our dining room) and laugh and babble on to that fixed location a lot.
I woke up in the middle of the night and saw an old guy who was completely white walking through my room. I promptly his under the blankets and got really scared.
I saw the same man one night while sharing bunk beds with my brother and he saw him too. This time it looked like he was sitting at a work bench.
This morning my phone was out of power and it was lying face down on my dresser. I was making my bed when suddenly I hear from behind me “hi welcome to chilli’s.” and I turn around to find my phone turned on and fully charged with the welcome to chilli’s vine playing from the YouTube app. No one else was home.
In conclusion, I’ve decided that my house is totally haunted by the guy who built it and lived in it, also that the guy, Mr. Thistlewood, is a meme loving piece of trash.