𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕊𝕚𝕞𝕦𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟 || Karl Jacobs x Reader

43|| Fix You

It was terrifyingly calm in the cave, the smallest hums he'd create to pass time would bounce around the closed area, along with the crash of water by the shore outside. The echoes ends up annoying him though with how long the tune would repeat and he ends up forgetting it no matter how catchy it seems.

It was dead cold of night and it felt nothing but punishing, particularly this time of twilight. But it's better than the scorching sun in the desert. He'd choose this brisk temperature over the heat of the glowing ball of gas in the sky.

His eyes were closed, drifting smoothly to a dreamless sleep. The repeating actions of yesterday, today and tomorrow bores him to his grave, he only wakes to eat then wait for that witch show up and 'fix' him. 

That wench... She should've known by now that her party magic isn't enough to battle willpower, why do they think that he's doing this because he's under a spell? He's not.

There were explosions yesterday though, it made the witch panic but when she came back, her face was ironed into a calm expression, it irked him to his core that none of his teammates are trying to save him but he still has faith.

Lord Herobrine will not forsake his favorite general.

Willbur hugged himself, hiding his half-covered hands on his armpits before turning to lay on his side, the sharp mounds of the stone dug through the material of his coat.

The low temperature in the cave shouldn't affect him since this body is acclimated to a chilly temperature where it rains as often as breathing.

As his heartbeat gradually slows down with his breathing, the rare feeling of serenity engulfs him. As he sinks further and deeper into relaxation.

Then out of nowhere, something tight curled around his waist in an iron grip. His eyes flew open and were met with the view of brown roots latching onto his legs and hands before he could even try to move them away. 

He snapped his head behind him, dread befalling on his face as dark figures stood in the dimly lit space, his heart raced in his chest as he attempts to break through the vice hold of the roots.

"Whoever is trying to fuck with me, you will pay for this!"

"We need you to calm down."

"Niki?" He doesn't know why but his heart ached in his chest when he heard her voice.

"Do it quickly!" Phil's voice jumps in as Wilbur felt something pierce through the loose areas in this coat before he felt a hand grab the back of his head.

"What are you doing?!"

Nothing will ever surprise him more than the ache that hits him like a freight train. Because moments after someone's hand touched him, the pain that surged through his body made him ramrod straight, a scream of agony slipping leaving his lips.

He couldn't breathe, his senses overridden by the onslaught of pain that suddenly flowed into his system. He has gone through many hardships before but mental magic will always hurt him. 

Everything around him dulls as the ache seemed to intensify more when he thought it was at it's best.

As his screams echoed in the area while the mage who held his head attempt to remove his so-called curse, his powers gathered in his chest as if the chains the damned god of life and death has snapped open from pressure. 

Herobrine's protection spell surfacing from the depths it was hidden as Wilbur's 'will' is threatened.

Wilbur could hear someone screaming but their words were blurry. as if he was underwater and their noises sounded like garbled nonsense.