#eventual found family

[yournaothings]

***Please be aware; there is violence and mentions of death in this chapter. After all, it's the Murder Time Trio.***

Yo! Here comes another chapter!  Reader, you have a nickname. Also, remember! These murderous skellies are based off of CJ_Does_VA's Killer, BlankSceneVA's Dust, Anger_Is_Flawed's Horror, and CallmeSlate's Nightmare.

With that being said, please be aware of the original creators of these characters. I forgot to mention them in the first chapter, whoops.

Killer Sans: Rahafwabas Dust Sans: Ask-Dusttale Horror Sans: Sour-Apple-Studios Nightmare Sans: Jokublog

->

After the three murderous skeletons had their laugh, Horror was nice enough to help the human back up onto their feet. "Hehe, that looked like it hurt! Here, let me just-" He reached closer with a hand towel he had grabbed from the counter and helped clean the blood off of their face. The human's face contorted in pain as Horror wiped away the blood, their face sore from hitting the tiled floor so hard. "Thanks, Horror." They sighed once he was finished. "I appreciate it." 

"It's no problem, heh." Horror tossed the now dirtied hand towel behind him, landing on top of Dust's head. The bloody part of the towel slapped him in the face, while the rest rested on top of the hood that covered his skull. "Ugh! Horror! What the fuck!" Horror hummed as he turned to see why Dust was so upset, only to laugh at Dust. "Hah! That's hilarious!" Dust glared at Horror as he tossed the towel aside. "I'm going to kill you." Horror tipped his head towards Dust while pointing at him with a wide grin. "You can try, buuut~ You won't be able to." 

The human laughed softly while the two bickered back and forth, their hand raising to hide their smile. Killer chose that moment to steal his human's guest's attention away from the others.  "So, now that that's over with! I never asked! What's your name, human?" 

"Oh," The human smiled at Killer, easily forgetting that he had just been holding his knife way too close to their face several minutes ago.  They introduced themselves.  "It's nice to finally meet you, Killer. Regardless of how it all started, I'm very excited to be here." Killer's grin widened, giving off such a mischievous look.  "It's nice to meet you too, toots. But, I think the name Angel is much better for you." He grinned at them. "Anyway! Like I said before, be aware of your surroundings and you'll be juuuust fine. Or not. You can never know when it comes to me~"   Despite the warning yet again, they smiled.  "What did you have planned for the day anyway? Anything in particular?"  "I'm glad you asked!" Killer grinned at them gleefully, before grabbing their hand and started to drag them out of the kitchen and towards the back door. Angel eagerly followed, hoping whatever Killer had planned was going to be exciting! 

The other two skeletons finally stopped arguing with each other as soon as Killer left the kitchen. "He's going to kill them." Dust states as he and Horror watch Killer drag the human guest out of the house and to the backyard. "Yeah, probably." Horror hummed. He turned to glance down at Dust then to the back door before deciding to follow after their chaotic skeleton buddy. Dust sighs from exhaustion, before he too followed after the others. 

Killer placed Angel in front of a tree that clearly has been used as target practice with very sharp objects. "I really don't think this is a good idea, Killer." Angel said, feeling themselves sweat nervously and giving Killer a fearful look. "Ah, you'll be fine~! I never miss~" 

Angel fidgeted in place while they waited for Killer to prepare. Killer grinned mischievously, spinning his knife around expertly. He turned around to adjust his camera, grinning to his audience. "Are you guys ready to see something great?"  Just as Killer turned around and prepared to throw his knife, Nightmare wrapped his tentacle around Killer and lifted him off of his feet before he could do anything harmful. 

"What are you idiots doing now?" Nightmare asked, annoyed with Killer. He glanced back at the human-  "Oh, I forgot about you." He turned fully towards the human, frowning.  "Really, boss?" Killer asked as he spun his knife around and stabbed it into Nightmare's tentacle. Nightmare's expression shifted from annoyance to an irritated glare and he tossed Killer back towards the house and out of frame from his audience. Killer screamed as he flew and crashed into the porch; Horror and Dust finally stepped out of the house. There was silence for a good solid minute before Dust leaned over, pointing and laughing at Killer's pain.  

"You fucking idiots." Nightmare sighed heavily in annoyance. He pinched his nasal ridge, his one eye socket closing as he felt a headache coming on. "I don't know why I still keep you three." At the sound of the human's snickering, Nightmare straightened his posture and shot them a glare, making them press their lips into a thin line and straighten up. He could see the grin they were trying to hide, as well as feel the bit of fear they had. 

"I never get tired of watching Nightmare toss you around like a ragdoll." Dust said as he started to calm down from his laughing fit.  "That was pretty funny."  "What did you do this time, Killer to make Nightmare throw you?"  Dust asked, all three clearly ignoring Nightmare, who remained in place.  "Well, he popped in right before I got to show off my nice knife skills to Angel and the audience. I may have stabbed him a little too hard~" Killer grinned excitedly; he wasn't fazed by Nightmare tossing him. 

"You idiot." Dust huffed out, before returning to his usual calm and volatile self. "Heh-" Horror snickered before turning his attention to his boss. "Oh, uh, hey there, boss!" Nightmare sighs, rolling his cyan eye light. "Get the fuck over here, idiots." 

Angel leaned against the tree while Dust and Horror made their way closer, Horror moving to check on them. Angel smiled reassuringly up to Horror. All the while, Killer struggled to get himself unstuck from the outdoor furniture he got trapped under. 

Killer dusted himself off before teleporting over to stand beside his boss.  "So, what's going on, boss? I thought you were busy with work?"  Nightmare glared haphazardly at Killer, then Dust. "Come on, you're a part of this now, too~" Horror told Angel, as he placed a hand on the back of their neck and firmly nudged them towards Dust's side- Killer was on Dust's other side. Nightmare remained in front of the four.  

"I have a mission for you all. One of my conquered AU's is being overtaken by my brother and his stupid Stars. I need you three to go and cause more chaos and negativity." Killer pulls out his knife and spins it expertly while giggling with excitement.  "I'm game~"  Dust shrugged; "Sure." Horror grins and summons his axe.  "Sounds like fun~!" Nightmare relaxes his tense shoulders, before gesturing towards the human.  "Take the human with you." Killer grins and salutes his boss. "You got it, boss!" 

Nightmare rolls his singular eye light before telling them which AU they were going to, before melting into a puddle of goo and disappearing. Killer giggles as he teleports beside Angel and wraps an arm around their shoulders.  "You're gonna love this! Oh!" Killer perks up and turns to his discarded camera. He walks over and picks it back up, booping his audience.  "Heheh~ don't worry, everyone. I'm bringing you along, too~" 

"Which AU are we going to, anyway?" Angel asks, smiling; however, it didn't quite reach their eyes. They were a little worried. Actually, worry didn't begin to cover how they felt. They were afraid. What if they got hurt? What if the three murderous skeletons left them behind? They fully expected to go home after their time with the Murder Time Trio. 

"It's another Classic AU, but the humans made it a game to hunt and kill monsters." Killer explained, grinning. "If Dream and his Star boys have been meddling in that universe, then the humans and monsters may have found peace. Which means, we get to kill whoever we want and blame it on the opposite side!" Killer laughs as he spins his knife once more, before finally pocketing it and preparing to teleport to the AU with his team.  

Horror pulls Angel close, his larger arm wrapped around them, as Killer gripped their hand, his other hand gripped Dust's hand. Dust shot Killer with a small glare, before he took Horror's other hand. "Let's get this over with." Dust huffs. "Aw~ Don't sound too excited, Dust~" Killer snickers. Dust stares straight ahead- right at Angel and grins.  "Try not to get yourself killed, human. I suggest you find a hiding spot until we've finished." Angel tensed, their heart racing within their chest; this was a really bad idea. "I'll do my best to stay alive. Don't leave me behind, though, okay?"  Dust grins underneath his hood, yet his two colored eye lights glowing ominously.  "No promises~" 

---

There was a heavy atmosphere of negativity that seemed to be slowly lifting away and being replaced by what Angel would describe as positive energy. 

"Ugh, you can definitely feel Dream's magic here." Killer grouses as he watches the mayor speaking to the group of humans and monsters just ahead of them. The young human ambassador was making a speech with the King and Queen of the underground; they were indeed making a truce. A deal of peace. 

Thanks to the strange trio of stars, both humans and monsters have seen eye to eye and wished to bring this unnecessary war to an end. 

Yuck. 

"Alright, boys." Killer grins, his liquid hate dripping much faster from his eye sockets. His grin was sharp and dangerous, his eye sockets narrowing in a predatory glare. He was ready to go! "Remember what Nightmare said. We've got to get rid of Dream's positivity." 

"Yeah." Dust nods as he adjusts his scarf around his neck.  "It's about time to gain more LV." He glances back at Angel, notices how they grew even more tense since they arrived.  "Hey, I'm serious. Don't get yourself killed. Find a hiding spot and we'll come find you later." Angel frowned, they kind of wished Nightmare didn't make the trio bring them along.  "Okay." 

"Actually," Killer interjects as he continues to watch the ambassador, the king and the queen on the stage.  "I've got a little job for you."  Horror and Dust turned to look at Killer, curious as to what he had in mind.  "Break up their little meeting, you can do whatever you'd like. Make them scared, so they can start scattering like frightened sheep." 

Angel looked surprised, then uneasy. "Um, are you sure, Killer? What if something bad happens." Killer glances at Angel, his grin sharpening. "Don't worry, Angel~ We've got your back~ I know you'll do great out there." "Heh, yeah! We won't let any of these losers hurt you. All ya gots ta do is scare the crowd. We'll do the rest." Horror explains to Angel, his own grin wide and dangerous. Angel stood before the three skeletons as they stood at the ready for the attack. 

They knew these skeletons were murderers. They knew this, yet they followed Killer's streams and other servers. During the streams, Killer was a lot of fun to interact with, to watch and play games with. It was so easy to forget that he was a, well... Killer. Now, standing before him and his teammates, the reality settled in. Today should have been a fun day hanging out with the Murder Time Trio. They were supposed to go on fun trips, or play video games! Not... Not this. 

Killer isn't asking for you to kill anyone.But, he wants me to be a part of this mission. Which will lead to so many individuals' deaths. Would you rather run and hide, or show the three skeletons that you're up for the task? You're brave, after all, right?Right... I.. I can do this. They said that they wouldn't let anyone hurt me. Right, I can do this.

Closing their eyes and taking a deep breath in, Angel prepared themselves for their simple task of scaring the crowd. The rest would be up to the murderous skeletons.  Angel exhaled and opened their eyes, nodding to the three. "Okay, I'll do it." 

Killer's grin widened, his grip on his knives tightening.  "I know you'll do great!" He encouraged them, then gave his signature laughter.  Angel couldn't stop the grin that lifted their lips. His laughter was contagious, and surprisingly helped calm their anxious nerves. Turning towards the crowd, Angel breathed in deeply once more, held it for a few seconds before releasing it.  I just have to scare the crowd, then go find a safe place to wait out the rest of the mission. With their task in mind, Angel hurried towards the crowd. 

"They're something else, eheh." Horror chuckled, his grip on his axe tightening as he readied for the attack. "You shouldn't have included them." Dust said to Killer, the hooded skeleton's gaze remained on their human guest  before looking at the crowd- specifically on one individual.  "They're going to get hurt."  "Aw," Killer's usual gruff voice was mixed with bloodlust. He was going to let his audience watch him and the boys in action, but there would be too much going on that would trigger his viewers. He may be a murderous monster, but he was careful with those he enjoyed having around; therefore he wished to protect them if he could.. Sorry, audience. There won't be any cool fight scenes this time. 

"From this day forward, there will no longer be any more violence between mankind and monsters-" "It's a lie! While the ambassador, king and queen were speaking, they had monsters set out to kill innocent humans!" Angel shouted, startling the crowd and upsetting the King and Queen.  "What-? That's not possible. Everyone is here-" "Then why did the monsters try to grab and kill me?!" Angel pointed to their still sore face, (how did they not start to bruise from their fall this morning?)  "They're on their way here! I managed to escape them to warn you!" 

"There are no monsters attacking humans! If you're just trying to start something-" The Undyne of the AU stepped forward, trying to stop the panic before it caused chaos.  

"Oh no!" 

"I see them! They're here!"

"Liars!" 

The humans began to scatter like startled mice escaping their predator. Many humans shoved monsters out of the way, some even started to fight the monsters. The humans didn't play fair, either. Attacking the weaker monsters, while others didn't mind attacking the stronger ones. 

The Queen called out to everyone, trying to get everyone under control again, but it was already too late. She gasped when she saw a monster jump into the frightened crowd, knife raised high above his head and landed on top of a monster. A blast of magic caught her attention, followed by painful and horrified screams. The Queen covered her mouth with her furry paws, her soul aching with dread and sadness as she watched not only the monsters, but the humans be slaughtered by these strange monsters. The bodyguards and security were quick to usher the King, Queen, and Ambassador off the stage and to a private black in color vehicle. However, before they could climb into the vehicle, a large and heavy axe came crashing down onto it, destroying the front end of the vehicle. Another monster stood before them with his dangerous and predatory grin.  "Heh, no one's leaving, 'm afraid." 

Chaos flared around the stage. No one bothered the retreating human as they hurried to a safer place and waited for the boys to finish. Honestly, Angel didn't really want to watch. As much as they enjoyed watching the boys playing their violent video games, Angel wasn't one for a front row seat to real violence. In fact, they could feel their heart racing with anxiety. They had to get to a safe place, where they could calm down and not think about what their favorite streamers were doing. 

They didn't get very far when a familiar skeleton cut off their pathway to an empty shop. Angel struggled to stop before they ran into the skeleton. "Oh shit!"  "heh, you're right. oh shit is right." This AU's Sans wasn't happy at all. Instead of going after Killer, Dust, or Horror, this Sans came after them.  "got a question for ya, kid. you wanna have a bad time?" Angel tensed, but stood their ground. They straightened up their posture after having almost run right into Sans. They knew there was no lying their way out of this. It was Sans, after all. Hell, even if they told him the truth, Sans would still try to fight them. They were sure of it. 

"I'd rather not have a bad time- Shouldn't you be trying to help your monster friends?" Angel asked, yet was shocked when Sans didn't get angry with them, or at least more than what he already was with them.  "shouldn't you be helping your monster friends? where exactly did you four come from? i knew it wasn't a good idea to let those others stay."  "You mean Dream and the Star Sans'?" As soon as they said it, they regretted it. Stupid! Why did you say that?! Sans narrowed his eye sockets, his grin tightening with uneasy and distrust.  "you know them? are they a part of your team as well?" Angel thought about this for a moment, thoughts whizzing through their head as they thought their options over.  

"I know of them, but I've never met them before. Dream is not on their team-" Angel started to explain. Sans cut them off, immediately.  "whose team are you on? and don't think about lying to me, kid. i'll know if you are or not."  Angel felt nervous, but they would be okay. The boys said they'd keep them out of harm's way. They just needed to get away from Sans, or at least distract him.  

Killer's cackling echoed from the stage. Screams were heard, kids crying, and yelling as some humans and monsters fought against the Murder Time Trio.  Angel turned to watch them. They left the young children alone, but killed the parents. Angel's heart squeezed in heartache for the children.  The Ambassador would probably reset again, and judging by Sans' skull dripping with sweat, he didn't want that. Just thinking about it was making Angel regret their decision to help. This AU was finally getting to a happier chapter, and the Murder Trio swept in to tear away that peace. And worse of all, Angel had helped them with it.

Sans noticed the hesitation in Angel, the guilt and regret were written clearly on their expression. This AU's version of Sans was quick to summon a bone attack, aiming it right at Angel. An attack that was meant to strike down the enemy was wasted when Angel snapped out of their thoughts and dodged the sharpened bone. They stumbled on their feet and paused to look at Sans in shock, before they provided themselves a quick getaway;  "I wouldn't waste my time with me. You better go check on your brother, instead." 

This didn't help them in the least. Sans pretended to be relaxed, and unbothered at the idea of his brother being hurt. His grin grew tight from this intense situation. His eye lights were only white dots within his darkened eye sockets.  "my brother can take care of himself, kid. you should worry about yourself instead."  With this being said, Sans pulled Angel into an encounter. They hadn't thought about this happening, what if they weren't able to run away? What if Sans actually hurt them or worse? Angel took a deep breath, willing themselves to relax. 

"I don't want to fight you." Angel said, refusing to fight and instead tried to reason with him. Sans chuckles once it was his turn and attacks them again.  "sorry pal, i don't see eye to eye with you." He says, closing his right eye socket, while his left eye light ignited with his magic. Angel was able to dodge most of the bones sent their way, but got nicked in the arm a few times. Hissing in pain, Angel took a moment before they made their next move. Again, they refused to fight.  

"Please, just let me go, Sans. I don't want to fight you. Go protect your brother and everyone." Angel told him. Sans' grin tightened, his eye sockets narrowed. "i never told you my name, kid." Angel froze, their eyes widening once he pointed out their mistake. Shit.  Sans prepared his attack and sent a cascade of bones at them. This attack was harder to dodge, but Angel did their best to avoid getting too severely injured. They received several cuts, most were shallow. They knew they were going to be bruised up badly. One bone shot up from the ground and pierced through their left calf, tearing through skin and muscle. Angel cried out in pain as they fell to their knees once the bones disappeared. 

Angel had a hard time catching their breath, the pain made it hard for Angel to focus on Sans. It was their turn now... They raised their head, shaking from the pain, and looked Sans directly in his eye lights with a look of determination.  "I'm not going to fight you, Sans." 

"jeez, kid." Sans chuckled, sweat dripping from his skull, unnerved by the stubbornness and determination this human had. "what's your deal, kid?" He chose to not fight this round, unsure if that was the right decision or not. Angel sighed and finally was able to spare Sans. "I wasn't lying when I told you that I didn't want to fight." Sans stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets, feeling uneasy about letting the human go.  "I just don't understand you, kid." Sans sighs as his shoulders drop from the tension before walking over to the human and reaching out a skeletal hand to help them up. 

"Hey." 

Sans and the human jolted at the dark and murderous voice and looked over to see Dust standing nearby with his Gaster Blaster preparing for an attack.  "Don't touch them." Angel bit back a scream, afraid that they'd be hit by Dust's attack. However, Sans had teleported away, only for Dust to already be two steps ahead of him. His Gaster Blaster shot the energy beam, decimating this AU's version of himself. 

"Oh shit, Angel!" Killer was suddenly beside them, helping them to stand up.  "That's a nasty wound there." The human released a heavy sigh, letting the tension fall from their shoulders.  "It hurts like hell." They were still bleeding, but they were glad to see that Sans had missed hitting an artery. "Oh man, little one." Horror grumbles as he finally joins the two skeletons. He gave them a worried look, from their injured body to their contorted painful expression. "You alright? Lookin' pretty beat up there."  The human nods.  "You can say that again.. But, I think I'm alright. I just need to be taken to a hospital-" 

"We can't do that, Angel. Thankfully! We have Cross! He knows a little about healing humans. Come on, let's get you back to the house." Killer said and gestured for Horror to pick them up. They yelped when they weren't quite prepared to be moved so suddenly, but relaxed in Horror's arms. "Don't worry, little one! I'll be gentle with ya. Good ole Cross will take care of you when we get back." Angel peered over his shoulder to see piles of dust and humans laying around. "You're all finished..?" They asked, feeling a little sick to their stomach.  "Yeah," Dust responded first, his gaze fixed on the pile of dust from this AU's Sans, before turning to look at the human.  "Sorry for not getting here sooner."  The human slowly blinked before offering Dust a smile.  "Don't worry, Dust. You made it over just in time. Thank you." Dust hummed as he looked away.  

"Okay, seriously guys. Let's get our human home." Killer said, as he prepared for all of them to teleport home. He squeezed Dust's hand a little too tightly, letting Dust know that he was upset that the human was still showing favoritism towards Dust rather than Killer.  Dust glanced over at Killer and grinned slyly.  "They still like me better."  "Ugh! Shut the fuck up, Dust!" Killer snarled as they teleported out of the AU. 

---

"What did you guys do to them?" Cross asked, sounding exasperated as he looked over the human's injuries. They sat on the counter yet again, where Cross carefully looked at the injuries.  "Dude! They fought a Sans, and won!" Killer exclaimed with his usual excitement.  "Can you fucking believe it?! This amazing human fought another version of us and won!" He grins at Angel, nudging their side.  Angel jolted from the bit of pain that came from his elbow pressing against their sore side. Yet, they laughed softly and felt their face flush from receiving such praise.  "I actually thought I was going to die." "But, you didn't!" Killer's voice raised as he hyped them up. He suddenly turned towards his camera, his audience finally back to see the aftermath of the mission.  "Did you hear that?! Angel fought against a Sans and won!" 

Cross simply ignored Killer's excitable energetic self while he carefully rolled up the human's pant leg to get a better look at their wound.  "This doesn't look too bad, but we do need to clean it. I don't think the Boss has anything for that, so I'll go grab some supplies from the store." He glanced up at the human, looking perfectly serious, just how he always did.  "Stay put, I'll be back." Angel nodded and blinked a few times when Cross suddenly disappeared from sight. 

Killer was busy talking to his audience, explaining to them how the mission went and the aftermath of his human's fight with that AU's Sans. Horror was busy cooking up some food, claiming that the monster magic will help with Angel's healing. Dust was already sprawled out on one of the sofas and snoring. Angel heard a noise and glanced over to see Nightmare slipping out of the shadows of the hallway and walked into the kitchen, his expression contorted to one of disgust.  

"What the hell happened to the human?"

"Boss, Boss!" Killer spun around so quickly, Angel wondered if he gave himself whiplash. Did skeletons get whiplash? Hm, I wonder.  "Angel fought a Sans and they won!"  "Who the fuck is Angel?" Nightmare sneered, glaring at the energetic Killer.  "Silly! It's our human here!" Nightmare's gaze left Killer to look at Angel.  "Oh, uh. Good job." Nightmare pat their head, before noticing the nasty wound on their leg.  "Why are you letting them bleed out in my kitchen?" Killer chuckled before turning to grab another towel to lay under Angel's leg. "This isn't really your kitchen, boss. Remember? It's CJ's." Nightmare sent a half-hearted glare to the annoying skeleton.  "I don't care, you're allowing blood to containment the area where we cook." He then glanced over at Horror and narrowed his eye socket at him. "I'm surprised you're not getting upset with Killer for this." 

"Hmm~ Huh? Oh, yeah. It's not sanitary to have blood near the food- but, it's okay, Night. We'll clean everything up!" Horror said before going back to humming while he finished up the little snack he was making for everyone. "Oh! Annnd~ Here we go!" He used his magic to summon the plates and silverware, placing the food on each plate before sending them to Killer, Angel, and Dust. Killer caught his plate, his food shifting a little from the impact. Angel gently took their plate and thanked Horror with a smile. Dust's plate fell on top of his face, smashing against him before falling onto the floor and spilling all of the food. Dust snorted and sat up, looking around. "Who the fuck did that?!" He snarled, angry that he was awoken from his nap. "Aw, Dusty Rusty Mus-" Horror began to say, pouting a little from his delicious food being wasted.  "Finish that fucking name and I'll murder you." Dust threatened, his eye sockets narrowing as his eye lights went out. 

Horror only laughed and took that as a challenge, his good eye socket narrowing as well.  "Dusty Rusty Musty Poo~" Dust off the sofa in a split second, his Gaster Blaster summoned and ready to blast Horror away.  Nightmare sighed in annoyance and sent his tentacles to grab Dust and pull him away. "No fighting in the house!" Dust sputtered as he freed an arm and pointed accusingly at Horror, who stood in place, giggling and happily chewing on his food. "Horror started it! What the fuck!" "Yeah? Well, I'm going to finish it!" Nightmare raised his voice, threateningly. Dust sputtered a moment longer before giving up and fell limp in Nightmare's hold. Pleased with this, Nightmare dropped Dust onto the floor, where Dust just laid and pulled his hood over his head even more. A clear message to not mess with him any longer. 

"Okay," Cross appeared again, his arms full of human bandages and cleaning liquids. He dumped them on the counter beside the human.  "Just so you know, this is going to hurt." Cross warned Angel, before he acknowledged Nightmare. "Oh, hi, Boss."  "You didn't tell me you were back." Nightmare grumbled and crossed his arms.  Cross frowned and tried to hide his face in his scarf.  "I forgot..." Nightmare sighed as he pinched his nasal ridge. "Ugh, just don't let it happen again." Cross nodded as he got busy cleaning the human's wound. "Yes sir." 

Cross began to work on cleaning around the wound before carefully cleaning the wound itself. Angel hissed from the pain, but managed to sit still for Cross to finish.  The silly goofball of a skeleton known as Killer provided them with a distraction as he suddenly appeared beside Cross, his chin hovering just above Cross' shoulder.  "What're you doing, Crossy?" Killer asked in his gravelly voice. This surprised Cross, making him almost hurt the human. He glared at Killer before shoving him back.  "I'm taking care of your human. Why did you let them get involved in the mission? What would have happened if they died?"  Killer laughed. "Oh, Crossy~ I knew the human was going to be okay. But, that's not important. What is, is where you have been all morning! I wanna know!" 

Cross leveled a look at Killer from over his shoulder, before going back to fixing up the human's calf.  "Boss gave me a solo mission. It's none of your business." Killer grinned, yet it didn't reach his eyes- in fact, his bone brow twitched from the irritation Cross was causing.  "Aw, come on, Crossy~"  Nightmare's heavy sigh hardly caught Killer's attention, as always; Cross and Angel glanced over at Nightmare, watching him struggle with trying to remain calm from Killer's antics. "I gave him the solo mission because I knew you fuck ups wouldn't be able to complete it!" Nightmare growled, glaring at Killer and Horror- Dust was still on the floor, snoozing.  "Wait, what?" Horror asked, sounding a bit crestfallen. "Hey, that was really mean, Boss!" Killer playfully pouted, moving over to lean closer to Boss. "We didn't fuck up this last mission! We did exactly what you asked!" Angel frowned, their eyebrow raising in curiosity. "Nightmare wanted you to kill everyone?" 

Nightmare glared at Killer, his tentacles whipping from his irritation.  "We didn't kill everyone! Just the nobodies!" Killer explained, grinning at his Boss.  "If I find out that you idiots caused another reset in that AU, I'm killing you." Angel felt bad for saying anything-  "You're not really going to kill them, are you?"  Nightmare turned his glare at Angel. "No." He grumbled.  "I'm just going to beat the crap out of them." "Haha! I knew you cared, Boss!" Killer laughed, before he was suddenly tossed out of the kitchen by one of Nightmare's tentacles. "Whooa!"  

Horror snickered and started to make more food. After all, Dust had wasted his food- even though it was somewhat his fault. Besides! He was still hungry! Oh! And don't forget about the human! They needed enough magic to help that wound and their sore body! 

"There," Cross said as he finished wrapping their wound. He straightened up and offered a small smile to Angel.  "It's not perfect, but you'll be fine." Angel smiled as they finished their snack. "Thanks a lot, Cross! I appreciate it!"  Cross' face glowed from his purple blush, and he mumbled an embarrassed and quiet, "You're welcome." He hesitated for a moment before turning away and leaving to go spend his free time elsewhere. 

"I hope you've had fun, human. It's time for you to go home." Nightmare said as he stepped closer and gave them a small glare. Angel smiled at him, which perplexed him. They should fear him! Or at the very least be uncomfortable around him.  "I suppose I am ready to go home. Thank you for letting me come hang out with your boys. It was a lot of fun, even though I ended up hurt on a few occasions." 

"What?!" Killer was suddenly in the kitchen, pouting at his boss. "Come on, Nightmare! Please, please, please don't send them home, yet!" Nightmare turned to face Killer and frowned at him. "I'm not sending them home; you're going to take them home. Take Horror and Dust with you." Killer perked up, excited to see which AU his favorite human fan lived. "Wait, really?!" He turned to grin at Angel, Horror and Dust having turned their attention towards the human. "Hear that, Angel? We're taking you home! I hope you're ready for me to see where you live! Heheh~ I just might stalk you, too!" He laughed. Angel was excited, yet nervous. They lived with their friend, and they were sure their roommate was home. "I can't wait." Angel said and smiled nervously.

This might end up in a disaster... 

((Note from Author: I just want you all to know that literally half of what happened in this chapter was NOT on my plot list. -crying face-))

[phantom-peachie]

hhhh,,, skyward sword,,

screams incoherently

[chez-cinnamon]

So I was talking to some friends on Discord and we were discussing how some movies had cartoon characters with this white guy driving car scene.

I'm just stuck thinking about Fionn and the Welcome Home cast crammed into a car having this same exact moment and it's cracking me up xD

It definitely starts out that way LMAO

[eatmyheartoutjpg]

𓇻 𝗧𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗕𝗟𝗘𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗥 ᵃʳᶜᵃⁿᵉ ˣ ᵍⁿ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ;; Multiple short chapters. Platonic. In which you're a teenage troublemaker who ends up on Silco's radar. He ends up taking you in (unofficially adopted). 𝘼/𝙉 ;; Will be a multi-parter! This is a short series and collection of dynamics, interactions, and scenarios. I really wanted to write something about the reader being an unofficial adopted child of Silco's. These are also longer than what I usually post!

11.30.24 Masterlist

You were an orphan, like countless others scraping by in Zaun. But unlike some, you didn’t mourn the absence of family. Having never known your parents or having a guardian figure, you thrived on independence, learning to fend for yourself from an early age.

Without any guidance, you grew up doing whatever you pleased—and that often meant getting into trouble. Fights became your playground, and through sheer stubbornness and repetition, you honed your combat skills. Street scuffles were your life, and though you didn’t start all of them, you were always ready to finish them. You’d end up earning quite the reputation. People either cursed your name or watched their backs when you were around, wary of a flying fist coming their way. To some degree you enjoyed that wariness. 

One day, your bold attitude landed you in the wrong scuffle—or the wrong crowd, so to speak. After an intense fight, you realized (too late) that the people you just beat down weren’t random street thugs; they were Silco’s henchmen, and worse, they were highly respected in the Undercity.

For someone like you, it wasn’t personal, it was just law of the land in Zaun. You didn’t even keep tabs on Zaun’s power dynamics. But your little “incident” painted a target on your back—and it got Silco’s attention instantly.

Now, teens causing trouble wasn’t anything new for Silco, but your knack for stirring chaos caught his eye. The more he heard about your raw combat skill and reckless attitude intrigued him—and irritated him in equal measure. He ordered Sevika to track you down, wanting to know more about the unruly fighter who was making waves across the streets, still debating on what to do with you. Sevika couldn’t help but be somewhat interested in who you were as she gathered intel. The laundry list of curses and complaints thrown your way amused her—maybe even reminded her of herself back in the day. Still, orders were orders, and soon, she was on your trail, something you were not aware of.

It was a quiet moment for you, perched on the splintering wooden railing of a dock, snacking and enjoying a rare moment of peace. The dull noise of the Undercity buzzed in the background, but here, it was calm. Or so you thought.

You didn’t hear the heavy footsteps behind you– it was masked by the sound of the waters below– and didn’t register the looming presence until–

“Gotcha.”

The world tilted as a rough hand yanked the collar of your jacket. Your snack fell into the water below, splashing quietly as you were unceremoniously hauled off the railing, landing hard on the dock with a loud thud.

The impact let out a shock of rippling pain down your spine.

“What the hell?!” you snapped sharply, coughing and groaning as you scrambled to your feet.

Towering over you was Sevika, her imposing figure blocking out the dim glow of the lights behind her. She stood with arms crossed, her mechanical arm gleaming faintly, flanked by a few henchmen you didn’t recognize. 

“Guess you’re the little punk everyone’s been complaining about,” Sevika said, voice dry with amusement, though the amusement didn’t fully reach her eyes.

You narrowed your own. “What’s it to you?”

“You’re on Silco’s radar now, kid. Consider this a courtesy call.”

“Fuck.” you uttered under your breath, holding back a loud groan at your own recklessness. You weren’t the type to keep up with Zaun’s underworld hierarchy, but even you knew the name. “I don’t work for anyone, it wasn’t a hit job or anything, just another street fight.”

Sevika tilted her head, unimpressed. “Right. Let’s just make this easy. You’re coming with us.”

Your fists slowly clenched as you narrowed your eyes at her. “Like hell I am.”

And before anyone could react, you swung at Sevika, aiming squarely for her jaw and landing a very solid hit.

It didn’t faze Sevika in the slightest. She responded with a calculated strike to your side, knocking the air out of your lungs. The henchmen moved in, but you weren’t going down without a fight.

One swing after another, you landed solid hits. One of the henchmen doubled over, clutching his ribs, while another stumbled back with a forming bruise on his cheek. You grinned through the pain, exhilarated by the chaos.

But you were easily outnumbered.

Sevika grabbed your wrist mid-swing and twisted, forcing you to your knees. “You hit harder than you look,” she said, almost impressed, before shoving you toward one of the henchmen.

“Let’s go.”

You struggled and cursed as they dragged you away, your ego bruised more than your body. You lacked self preservation, but you did feel somewhat satisfied that you somewhat held your own.

They dragged you through the dim, twisting back corridors of the Last Drop. The faint hum of machinery and the murmur of voices blended with the steady clink of Sevika's boots. You didn’t bother to struggle much anymore—you’d exhausted your strength fighting them off earlier. Instead, you focused on memorizing every twist and turn, every detail of this place.

Finally, the henchmen shoved you through a large iron door into a dark, smoky room. At the far end sat Silco, reclined in a high-backed chair, one leg crossed over the other. His mismatched eyes, one fiery and orange, the other cool and calculating.

“Ah, so this is our troublemaker,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with curiosity. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbow on the arm of the chair. “You’ve been... busy.”

“You’ve been meddling,” you shot back, ignoring Sevika’s warning glare and subtle shove. 

Silco chuckled softly, gesturing for the others to leave. 

“Stay,” he added when Sevika started to follow. She stepped back to the corner of the room, arms crossed but watchful.

You crossed your arms, refusing to show weakness even as your body ached from the earlier fight. “If this is about your guys, tell them not to pick fights they can’t win.”

“Bold,” Silco remarked, a smirk playing on his lips. “But misguided. They weren’t the aggressors, were they?”

You hesitated but quickly masked it with a defiant glare. “You’ve got something to say? Say it.”

Silco stood, slowly walking toward you. He stopped just short of entering your personal space, his hands clasped behind his back. Up close, his presence was even more unnerving, his calm demeanor belying the power he held.

“You’re reckless,” he said, his voice low but firm. “No regard for alliances, no understanding of consequences. And yet...” He tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle piece. “You’ve made it this far. Alone. That takes talent.”

“I don’t need your approval,” you quipped..

“No, but you need someone to temper that fire,” Silco replied. “Without guidance, that strength of yours will get you killed. And quite frankly, I’d rather not waste such potential.”

You frowned, unsure where this was going. “What’s your point?”

“My point,” he said, stepping back slightly, “is that Zaun doesn’t need another wild card running loose. You’ve proven your capability. Now it’s time you prove your loyalty.”

You blinked. “Loyalty? To you?”

“To Zaun,” Silco corrected, though the distinction seemed thin. “But under my guidance, yes.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he raised a hand to stop you.

“Let me be clear,” he said, his tone icy. “You can continue down the path you’re on, burning bridges until there’s nothing left—or you can accept my offer. A place in my network. Protection. Purpose.”

“And if I say no?” you challenged.

Silco’s smirk returned, sharper this time. “Then I let the Undercity decide your fate. The enemies you’ve made won’t hesitate to tear you apart. Sevika, for one, seemed to enjoy your little scuffle.”

You clenched your fists, glaring between Silco and Sevika. The room felt suffocating, the weight of the choice pressing down on you. You hated getting bitten back for all the shit you’ve pulled, and this seems to be the hardest bite.

You’d always been independent, always fought for yourself. The idea of working for someone—even someone as powerful as Silco—felt like a betrayal of who you were and what you pride yourself on. But his offer wasn’t without merit. Protection in Zaun meant everything.

“Well?” Silco prompted, his patience clearly finite.

You stared at Silco, jaw clenched, weighing your options. The fight in you wanted to refuse outright, to spit in his face and walk out the door. But the logical part of you—the one that had kept you alive so far—knew better. You’d already pissed off too many people, and the promise of protection wasn’t something you could dismiss lightly.

“Fine,” you muttered, glaring at the floor rather than meeting his eyes. “I’ll... work with you. But don’t think for a second I’m bowing down or calling you ‘boss’ because that’s really corny.”

Silco’s smirk grew, and you hated how satisfied he looked. “Good,” he said simply, turning back toward his desk. “I don’t need your indifference, just your cooperation. For now.”

Sevika let out a quiet snort from the corner, clearly amused.

“And what exactly am I supposed to do?” you asked sharply, crossing your arms. “Run errands? Break kneecaps for you?”

Silco waved a hand dismissively as he sat back in his chair. “Nothing so crude. You’ll start small—learning how we operate, understanding what it means to be part of something greater than yourself.” His mismatched eyes fixed on you again. “In time, we’ll see where your particular talents are best put to use.”

“You mean I’m on probation,” you said dryly, unamused at your situation.

“Call it what you like,” Silco replied with a shrug. “But consider this: I see potential in you, and I don’t waste resources. Prove you’re worth the trouble, and you’ll find more freedom under my wing than you ever had on your own.”

You hesitated, the words lingering in your mind. Potential. Freedom. They didn’t sit right with you—not yet—but you couldn’t deny the opportunity he was offering.

“Fine,” you said again, more firmly this time. “But don’t expect me to like it.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Silco said, his tone light but his gaze piercing. “Sevika will guide you. Welcome to the fold.”

ˢᵉᵛᵉⁿ

[mydarlinglaszlo]

they're holding hands! for the last time (on this documentary) 🥺💕

[starry-bi-sky]

danny and officer martinez's relationship in "late at night, when the nightingale sings" in a nutshell:

Martinez: FREAK! GET YOUR FUCKING KID!

Battinson, on the other side of the crime scene: he don't bite

Martinez, with Nightingale firmly attached his arm, visibly biting him: YES HE DO!

*points at them* Danny is the Bugs Bunny to Martinez's Elmer Fudd.

Another Officer: i can't believe you're fighting with an actual twelve year old. Martinez: i swear to god that is not a twelve year old, that is a little hellion that crawled out of batman's shadow one dark and stormy night and decided to dedicate his existence to tormenting me. Officer: Are you really that mad about him putting a sticky note on your back-- Martinez: thats not the point

in danny's defense: the word "freak" is. a mini beserker button for him for.... obvious ghostly reasons, so like, even if its not directed at him, he still very much unappreciates Martinez's insults at Battinson. Danny may or may not be projecting.

he's not going to hurt the guy! not in any serious or permanently disfiguring way at least! But he is going to leave mean sticky notes on the square part of his spine that he can't reach, and stick salt in his 3AM Late Night Crime Scene Coffee, and kick the bottom of his heel while he's walking so he stumbles. And other petty, infuriating things that tally up and boil over, over time.

[edwinisms]

you ever think about how edwin got like. no warning, no time time to process, nothing, when he reappeared on earth faced with the fact that virtually everyone he knew in life is dead. his parents? probably died in the 1950s or so (at best) almost forty years prior to edwin’s return. if any of his classmates were still around, they’d have been elderly, possibly senile, and in a few years they’d all be gone– except, of course, edwin. nothing looks the same, cars look like spaceships, there actually are spaceships, he can no longer see the stars, and everyone he knew is dead.

[thebunnednun]

In the Arms of a Stranger Charlotte Katakuri x Bride! Reader (Part 1)

He's been popping up on my timeline for a while so I think that means he's getting a series. Pretend he's younger, or don't.

This is gonna be a long one folks.

Spolier: Reader ate the "Kage Kage no Mi" fruit.

Summary:

Kidnapped from the safety of your Straw Hat family and drugged into a forced marriage as a cruel act of revenge by Big Mom, you find yourself in a luxurious yet suffocating room with Charlotte Katakuri, the formidable son of your captor. Fear and desperation grip your heart, but amidst the terror, an unexpected truce begins to form.

As Katakuri reveals his own discomfort with the marriage and vows to protect you, a fragile bond develops. Together, you navigate the tension and uncertainty, finding solace in each other's presence.

In the midst of vulnerability and shared fears, even in the darkest times, unexpected comfort and trust can emerge.

Now, on with the show!!~

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

The opulent grand hall reverberated with the lively chatter of guests and the melodious clinking of glasses, creating an atmosphere of celebration and merriment. However, amidst the splendor, [Name] couldn't shake off the overwhelming sense of displacement.

Her thoughts continuously gravitated back to her beloved Straw Hat family, from whom she had been abruptly separated due to this arranged marriage. All you could remember was being stolen in the night and being presented before a large pink woman.

The entire ceremony had unfolded like a hazy dream, and now, as the night descended, it marked the beginning of their wedding night.

Your knowledge of Charlotte Katakuri, your enigmatic new husband, was shrouded in intimidating rumors, leaving you feeling apprehensive.

'Fucking shit.'

The heavy oak door to their lavishly adorned chamber clicked shut behind you, the sound echoing ominously in the vast space. Silence descended like a suffocating blanket, pressing down on you with palpable weight. Your breath caught in your throat as you stood in the center of opulence, surrounded by the extravagant display of wealth.

The room exuded grandeur at every turn—the king-sized bed, adorned with layers of sumptuous silk, beckoned invitingly, yet it felt more like a throne of isolation than a place of rest. Ornate furniture, carved with intricate designs, adorned the spacious chamber, each piece a testament to extravagance. The soft glow of the dimly lit chandeliers cast ethereal shadows across the room, adding to the surreal atmosphere.

But amidst the splendor, there was a profound sense of unease, a feeling of being ensnared in a gilded cage. Despite the luxurious trappings, the room felt suffocating, each embellishment serving as a reminder of the confinement you found yourself in. The air seemed heavy with unspoken tension, and the silence seemed to magnify your solitude.

Your gaze flitted around the room, seeking solace in its lavish décor, but finding none. Every corner seemed to echo with a sense of captivity, each ornamental detail serving as a stark contrast to the freedom you longed for. Your heart ached with longing, yearning for the warmth and familiarity of your Straw Hat family, where safety and love awaited.

In this ostentatious chamber, you felt like a trapped bird, yearning to spread your wings and soar back to where you belonged. The opulence that surrounded you only served to emphasize the stark reality of your confinement, amplifying your desire to break free from this golden prison and return to the embrace of those who cherished you most.

In a moment of sheer panic, you found yourself drawn to the large bed dominating the center of the room. Instinct took over as you dropped to your knees, your movements frantic and unthinking. With trembling hands, you crawled beneath the bed, seeking refuge in the shadowy space beneath its expanse. The rapid thudding of your heart reverberated in your ears, a deafening drumbeat of fear that seemed to echo through the room.

As you huddled beneath the bed, your breaths came in shallow gasps, each inhale feeling like a struggle against the weight of impending doom. The confined space offered little solace, but you clung to it desperately, your body curling into a tight ball as if seeking protection from the encroaching darkness.

In the dimness beneath the bed, the world outside seemed distant and unreal, as if you had retreated into a realm of your own making. The shadows enveloped you like a comforting cloak, shielding you from the harsh reality that lurked beyond the confines of your hiding place.

Your mind raced with thoughts of escape, the urgency of the situation pressing down on you like a heavyweight. You couldn't stay here, couldn't bear the thought of what awaited you on this dreaded night. Your only thought was to find your friends, to seek refuge in the familiar embrace of the Straw Hat crew.

But for now, beneath the bed, you allowed yourself a moment of respite, a brief reprieve from the chaos that surrounded you. The stale air hung heavy in your lungs, but you welcomed it, using the precious moments of solitude to gather your thoughts and steel yourself for the challenges that lay ahead.

In the suffocating stillness of the room, time seemed to lose all meaning, stretching out into an endless expanse of silence. Every creak of the floorboards, every whisper of the wind outside, seemed magnified, as if the very air itself held its breath in anticipation. The weight of the mansion pressed down on you like a suffocating blanket, its oppressive atmosphere adding to the unbearable tension that hung in the air.

And then, like a harbinger of impending doom, you heard the door creak open, the sound slicing through the silence like a knife. Your entire body tensed, muscles coiling with apprehension as your breath caught in your throat, the air thick with trepidation.

With each heavy footstep, Katakuri drew closer, his presence a looming specter in the darkness. The sound of his boots on the plush carpet sent vibrations rippling through the floor, each thud reverberating through your bones and echoing the pounding of your heart. Every nerve in your body screamed for you to flee, to escape the approaching danger, but you remained frozen in place, paralyzed by fear.

Closing your eyes tightly, you prayed fervently that he wouldn't notice you, that you could remain hidden in the shadows beneath the bed. The darkness offered scant protection, but it was all you had, a thin veil of concealment against the looming threat that lurked just beyond your hiding place. As Katakuri's footsteps drew nearer, you clung to the desperate hope that somehow, against all odds, you would remain undetected.

'Please, just go away. Don’t look under the bed. Please.'

As Katakuri's heavy footsteps halted mere inches from the edge of the bed, a tangible sense of dread settled over you like a suffocating shroud. His presence loomed over you, a looming shadow of menace that seemed to envelop the room in a cloak of darkness. The air grew thick with tension, each breath you took feeling like a struggle against the oppressive weight of fear that pressed down upon you.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly as you held your breath, every second feeling like an eternity as you waited in agonizing anticipation. And then, mercifully, the footsteps receded, their retreat a faint echo in the silence that followed. The sound of water running in the adjacent bathroom filled the room, a stark contrast to the stillness that had preceded it. Relief washed over you in a shaky exhale, but beneath the surface, the gnawing fear persisted, a constant reminder of the danger that lurked just beyond your reach.

'This is my chance,' you thought, determination flickering in the depths of your eyes as you seized upon the opportunity before you. With a surge of adrenaline, you scrambled out from under the bed, your movements swift and urgent as you surveyed your surroundings for any sign of escape. Your heart sank as you realized the door was securely locked, a barrier that stood between you and freedom.

'No, no, no!' The panic threatened to overwhelm you, but amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a glimmer of hope emerged. You remembered your Devil Fruit powers, a latent ability that held the key to your salvation. With a fierce focus, you channeled your energy, merging with the shadows that danced along the edges of the room. The sensation was eerie, like slipping into a cold, dark void, but you clung to it desperately, knowing it was your only chance at escape.

Invisible to the naked eye, you slipped through the crack beneath the bedroom door, your movements silent and swift as you navigated the dimly lit hallway beyond. Your heart pounded in your chest as you caught sight of Charlotte Opera, his figure looming ominously in the distance, a dagger glinting menacingly under the harsh glow of the overhead lights.

'Perfect,' you thought grimly, steeling yourself for the perilous journey that lay ahead. With determination coursing through your veins, you set off into the unknown, every step a testament to your unwavering resolve to reclaim your freedom at any cost.

As you moved stealthily through the labyrinthine corridors of the mansion, every step careful and calculated, your heart pounded in your ears like a thunderous drumbeat. The oppressive silence of the night was broken only by the faint sound of your own breathing, each inhale and exhale amplified by the tension that hung thick in the air. Every corner you turned seemed to hold the promise of danger, every shadow concealing a potential threat.

With practiced ease, you closed the distance between yourself and Opera, your movements fluid and silent as you closed in on your target. In a swift, decisive motion, you snatched the dagger from his grasp, the cold metal of the blade sending a shiver of anticipation coursing through your veins. It was a small victory, but in the face of the looming danger that surrounded you, it felt like a lifeline—a tangible symbol of your determination to fight back against the forces that sought to hold you captive.

Retreating back into the safety of the shadows, you clung to the dagger tightly, the weight of it comforting in your hand. It was a small but significant tool of defense, a reminder that you were not powerless in the face of adversity. With renewed resolve, you prepared yourself for the ordeal that lay ahead, steeling yourself for whatever challenges awaited you.

As the sound of the shower ceased and the lights in the bedroom dimmed, plunging the room into an even deeper darkness, your heart rate spiked once more. The tension in the air was palpable, each moment stretching out into an agonizing eternity as you resumed your hiding spot beneath the bed. Holding your breath, you braced yourself for whatever might come next, your mind racing with frantic thoughts as you prepared to confront the dangers that lurked in the shadows.

'Now I have the advantage but how do I get out of this?'

As you lay hidden beneath the bed, your mind raced with frantic thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. The weight of the dagger in your hand offered little solace as you grappled with the overwhelming fear of the unknown. How would you escape this predicament? What awaited you beyond the confines of this ominous mansion? The uncertainty gnawed at your insides, leaving you feeling small and powerless in the face of the looming threat.

Before you could formulate a plan of action, the bathroom door swung open with a sinister creak, unleashing a wave of hot steam into the room. Through the swirling mist, you caught a glimpse of Katakuri's towering figure, his presence like a malevolent shadow in the darkness. The air seemed to thicken with dread as his cold, unyielding gaze pierced through the haze, fixating on you with chilling intensity.

And then, in an instant, the shadows were banished by a blinding light that seared through the fog, illuminating you in its merciless glare. The stark contrast between light and darkness rendered you vulnerable, exposed to the full force of Katakuri's unwavering scrutiny. Panic surged through you like a primal instinct as his eyes bore into yours, stripping away any semblance of safety or sanctuary.

Before you could react, his hand closed around your wrist with a bone-crushing grip, dragging you unceremoniously out from your hiding place beneath the bed. The sensation was like being ensnared by a predator, helpless against the inexorable force of his advance. With each heartbeat, the reality of your predicament sank in, filling you with a visceral terror so profound it threatened to consume you whole.

"No, no, no!" The words escaped your lips in a frantic whisper, a desperate plea for escape that fell on deaf ears. In the face of Katakuri's relentless advance, you were overwhelmed by a sense of dread so potent it bordered on madness. As he loomed over you, a silent harbinger of doom, you were plunged into the depths of a nightmare from which there seemed to be no waking.

As you struggled against Katakuri's iron grip, fear surged through your veins like a torrential wave, threatening to drown you in its icy embrace. With a surge of desperation, you plunged the dagger into his wrist, a desperate bid for freedom born of sheer instinct. He grunted in pain, his reaction more annoyance than true agony, but it was enough to momentarily loosen his hold on you.

With a gasp of relief, you tumbled onto the bed, your heart pounding in your chest like a frantic drumbeat. Scrambling away, you fought to put as much distance between yourself and your assailant as possible, your movements frantic and uncoordinated. But your escape was short-lived, and you soon found yourself falling off the other side of the bed, landing with a jarring thud on the cold, unforgiving floor below.

As you lay there, your mind a whirlwind of fear and confusion, a thousand thoughts raced through your head in rapid succession. "I hurt him. What now? Will he kill me?" The questions echoed in your mind like a relentless refrain, each one more terrifying than the last. The cold floor pressed against your back, grounding you in the harsh reality of your situation as you struggled to catch your breath, your chest heaving with the effort.

Amidst the chaos of your thoughts, a fierce determination took hold, driving you forward in spite of the overwhelming fear that threatened to consume you. "I can't let him catch me. I have to survive this. I have to get back to my family." The words rang out in your mind with a clarity that cut through the suffocating haze of terror, fueling your resolve with a newfound strength.

Though the fear was almost paralyzing, the thought of your Straw Hat family served as a beacon of hope in the darkness, a reminder of the bonds that tethered you to the world beyond this nightmare. With each breath, you drew upon that strength, channeling it into a desperate bid for survival as you faced the terrifying unknown that lay ahead.

As you lay on the floor, your body trembling with adrenaline, the sound of Katakuri's approach sent shivers down your spine, his silent footsteps amplifying your terror. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, your senses heightened to a fever pitch as you struggled to control your racing heart.

'He's coming. What do I do? Think, [Name], think!'

The suspense was suffocating, the air thick with tension, as you fought to steady your breathing against the overwhelming fear that threatened to consume you.

With each step he took, the weight of his presence bore down on you like a suffocating blanket, leaving you gasping for air as if the very atmosphere had turned against you.

'I can't stay here. I can't let him catch me again.'

The thought echoed in your mind with a sense of urgency, driving you to action even as panic threatened to overwhelm your senses.

As Katakuri's shadow fell over you, his form looming ominously in the dim light of the chandelier, you felt a primal instinct kick in, a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His eyes, cold and unreadable, seemed to pierce through the darkness, fixing you in place with their unyielding gaze. Your heart hammered in your chest, thoughts whirling in a frantic blur as you braced yourself for whatever came next.

'This is it. This is my only chance.'

With fear coursing through your veins, you struggled against Katakuri, desperation lending strength to your movements. In a desperate move, you slashed at him again with the dagger, hoping to fend off the looming threat that hung over you like a shadow. But Katakuri's response was swift and merciless; with a single, precise motion, he knocked the dagger out of your hands, sending it clattering to the floor, far out of reach.

Desperation filled your eyes as you whispered into the cold night air,

"Please, don't touch me!"

The world seemed to stop at this notion. Your words hung in the air, fragile and trembling, a desperate request for mercy in the face of overwhelming fear. The room fell silent, the weight of your plea echoing in the stillness as you awaited his response.

For a fleeting moment, Katakuri's intense gaze softened, his resolve faltering in the face of your vulnerability. Slowly, he pulled himself back, giving you the space you so desperately craved. You lay there, still clad in your wedding dress, a poignant reminder of the night's cruel irony. Tears welled up in your eyes, spilling over as you squeezed them shut, your body wracked with silent sobs.

In that moment of vulnerability, you were acutely aware of the fragility of your existence, a pawn in a game far beyond your control. The weight of the night's events bore down on you like a crushing weight, threatening to engulf you in darkness. Amidst the despair, a flicker of hope remained, a small ember of resilience burning brightly within you. You would endure this trial, you would survive, and you would emerge stronger on the other side.

But right now you really just needed to have a healthy cry.

Katakuri's massive form crouched down before you with surprising gentleness, his imposing stature momentarily softened by the tenderness in his movements. Despite the weight of his presence, there was a certain grace in the way he watched you, as if he were keenly attuned to the fragile state of your emotions. His usually stern expression bore a subtle shift, hints of compassion and understanding flickering across his features like shadows dancing in the dim light of the room.

As he spoke, his voice was a soothing murmur, low and gentle, cutting through the tense silence like a soft breeze on a stormy night. "I promise I won’t hurt you. I have no intention of consummating this marriage given the situation." His words hung in the air, a lifeline extended to you in the depths of your despair. For a moment, the weight of your fear seemed to lift ever so slightly, replaced by a cautious glimmer of hope.

Slowly, you opened your tear-blurred eyes, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of apprehension and longing. You searched the depths of his gaze, seeking any sign of deception or malice, but all you found was sincerity shining back at you like a beacon in the darkness. At that moment, with a trembling breath, you allowed yourself to believe, if only for a fleeting second, that perhaps there was still goodness to be found in this world, even in the most unexpected of places.

As you looked up at Katakuri, his presence no longer looming over you like a specter of fear, you found yourself daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him to be a decent man despite the circumstances.

In the tranquil hush of the room, every breath seemed to echo, a delicate symphony of tension and resignation. Katakuri's presence, once a looming specter of dread, now exuded a sense of quiet patience, a silent invitation for you to find solace amidst the chaos of your emotions. The opulence that had once felt stifling now appeared almost ethereal, the soft glow of the chandeliers casting gentle pools of light that danced upon the walls like fleeting whispers.

"I promise,"

His voice resonated like a soothing melody, a gentle reassurance that hung in the air like a fragile thread.

"You are safe here. I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to."

The sincerity in his words was a beacon in the darkness, a glimmer of hope amidst the shadows of fear that lingered in your heart. Tentatively, hesitantly, you allowed yourself to believe him, to entertain the possibility of a sanctuary within the confines of this ornate prison.

Your trembling began to ebb, a gradual release of tension that mirrored the softening of your surroundings. With each passing moment, the weight of your fear lessened, replaced by a cautious sense of calm that settled over you like a comforting embrace.

Though the scars of your ordeal remained, there was a flicker of resilience in your gaze, a silent acknowledgment of the strength that lay dormant within you.

In the stillness of the room, you took a trembling breath, your pulse slowing as you dared to let go of the grip of fear that had held you captive for so long. And as you met Katakuri's unwavering gaze, you found yourself taking the first tentative steps towards reclaiming your sense of agency, your spirit unbroken.

Tears of anguish continued to stream down your cheeks, silent witnesses to the pain that still weighed heavy on your heart. But intertwined with the sorrow was a sense of gratitude, a profound acknowledgment of the small mercy that had been extended to you in this moment of vulnerability. And as you met Katakuri's gaze, you found solace in the silent understanding that passed between you forged by the circumstance you found each other in.

As Katakuri stood before you, his imposing frame now softened by the absence of his wedding attire, you couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in his demeanor.

His broad shoulders, previously concealed beneath layers of formal clothing, now stood bare and unadorned, accentuating the raw strength that lay beneath his stoic exterior. Black sweatpants hugged his frame, emphasizing the powerful muscles that rippled beneath his skin with each movement.

And then, there was his face. Without the intimidating mask that had become synonymous with his identity, Katakuri seemed almost vulnerable, his features exposed to the harsh light of the room. His expression was unreadable, a mask of neutrality that belied the turmoil that lay beneath the surface.

But it was the intricate tattoo that adorned his left shoulder that drew your attention. A complex design of swirling patterns and symbols, it seemed to tell a story of its own, each line and curve a testament to Katakuri's strength and resilience. The tattoo, a mark of his heritage and lineage, spoke of a past shrouded in mystery and tradition.

As your gaze lingered on him, you realized that he had caught you staring. A flicker of self-consciousness crossed his features before he rose gracefully to his feet, moving with a fluidity that belied his size. Without a word, he retrieved a box of tissues from a nearby dresser, placing them gently in front of you with a silent understanding.

"I... I'm nervous too,"

He admitted, his voice a low rumble that filled the room.

"This marriage... it wasn't fair of my mother to impose it upon us like this."

There was a hint of frustration in his tone, a rare display of vulnerability that caught you off guard.

"But for now, we must act as a normal couple. It's the only way to avoid suspicion."

You nodded, taking the tissues with trembling hands as you tried to wipe away the tears that stained your cheeks. The gesture was small but significant, a silent acknowledgment of the fragile truce that existed between you. As you dabbed at your cheeks, you couldn't help but notice the smudged makeup that marred your reflection in the tissue.

Seeing your distress, Katakuri's expression softened, a rare display of empathy in the midst of chaos. "You should shower and change out of your wedding dress," he suggested gently, his voice a soothing balm against the turmoil of your emotions. "I'll... I'll wait outside."

"I thought we couldn't leave until... you know," you murmur, glancing towards the bed where memories of the night's events lingered like ghosts.

Katakuri groans, his frustration evident as he pinches the bridge of his nose. "I forgot," he admits, before letting out a resigned sigh. His gaze returns to you, softer now, tinged with a hint of apology.

"I will wait inside the closet then. Knock three times when you are finished."

But as he starts to rise, you find yourself unable to let him leave just yet. "Wait!" you call out, your voice trembling slightly.

He pauses, turning back to you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. As you rise to your feet, legs shaking with the weight of the evening's events, you move closer to him, heart pounding in your chest.

"P-please help me with the buttons in the back," you request, your voice barely above a whisper. His gaze meets yours, and for a moment, the air between you crackles with unspoken tension.

He holds your gaze, the intensity of his stare making your heart race even faster. With a nod, he steps forward, his fingers deftly undoing the buttons of your wedding dress. The fabric falls away with a soft rustle, leaving you exposed and vulnerable in its wake.

You shiver at the sudden rush of cool air against your skin, his strength evident in the ease with which he undoes each button. When he's finished, you look up at him, meeting his gaze once more.

"I promise I will not touch you," he reassures you, his voice gentle yet firm. With that, he steps back, putting distance between you once more, before retreating into the walk-in closet.

Alone once more, you take a deep breath, the weight of the evening pressing down on you like a heavy cloak. But in the quiet of the room, you find a moment of solace, a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos.

With the now slumping dress held against your form, you rush into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a shaky hand. Locking the door provides a momentary sense of security, and you slide down onto the cool tiles, back pressed against the door.

As you sit there, the events of the evening replay in your mind like a broken record. The way Katakuri had grabbed your wrist, the fear that had gripped you, and the unexpected restraint he had shown when you stabbed him... it all whirls around in your head, leaving you feeling dizzy and confused.

You consider asking him about it, about why he didn't retaliate or even mention the wound. But the thought dies on your lips as you glance down at your now discarded dress, realizing that it's probably not the best time to bring it up.

Instead, you focus on the task at hand, turning on the shower and letting the warm water cascade over your body. It's a welcome respite from the chaos of the evening, and you take your time, letting the steam wash away the physical and emotional residue of the night.

As the water cascades down, you can't help but think about how to contact Luffy or the rest of the crew. Pudding seems like the safest option, given her past interactions with your friends. But the logistics of reaching out to her are daunting, especially with Katakuri lurking just outside the door.

Eventually, you finish your shower, wrapping yourself in a large fluffy towel. Glancing at your reflection in the fogged-up mirror, you're struck by how tired and sad you look. With a sigh, you reach for a face towel, intending to run it under cold water to reduce the puffiness around your eyes.

But as you do, you realize just how large the towel is, a stark reminder of the size and strength of your new husband. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, but you push it aside, focusing instead on getting dry and applying lotion to your body.

Once you're sufficiently covered, you peek out from under the bathroom door, listening for any signs of life in the room beyond. When you hear nothing, you slip back into the room's shadows, quietly making your way to the dresser drawers in search of clothing.

You avoid the underwear set Big Mom had insisted you wear beneath the wedding dress, opting instead to dig through the drawers until you found something. Among the array of garments, you manage to find a black bra and underwear set that fits you perfectly.

A note from Pudding accompanies the lingerie, explaining that it's the best she could do under the circumstances. You hug the note to your chest, grateful for Pudding's help, before slipping into the undergarments.

Next, you find a slip that Pudding had also left for you. Pulling it over your head, you revel in the softness of the fabric against your skin. It's a simple yet elegant piece, with delicate lace adorning the edges. As you adjust the straps, you notice how the slip drapes over your figure, accentuating your curves in a flattering way.

'Would he even like something like this? Oh my God no, I can't believe I just thought of that!'  

You feel your ears begin to heat up again until you turn away from the mirror. Looking down, you're struck by the contrast between the darkness of the lingerie and the sexiness of the red slip. It's a visual representation of the conflicting emotions swirling inside you.

'This won't do.'

Still feeling vulnerable, you return to the dresser drawers, your fingers trailing over the various fabrics as you search for something to provide additional comfort. Finally, you come across a large white shirt tucked away in the back of the drawer. Pulling it on over the slip, you're enveloped in its soft embrace, the oversized fit offering a sense of security you desperately need. With each button fastened, you feel a little more grounded, a little more ready to get through the night.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves as you catch a small whiff of something. The scent of donuts and fire lingers on the fabric, a faint reminder of Katakuri's presence in the room. You pause, the shirt draped over your shoulders, and bring the collar up to your nose, inhaling deeply. The familiar aroma envelops you, warm and comforting, like a gentle embrace in the midst of chaos. It's a reminder that despite the circumstances, you're not entirely alone.

Closing your eyes, you allow yourself a moment of quiet reflection, focusing on the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest as you breathe in the calming scent. For a fleeting instant, the weight of the world lifts from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of peace and tranquility. It's a small respite from the turmoil of the night, but one you cling to nonetheless.

With a steadying breath, you lower the collar of the shirt and let your hand fall to your side. The fabric drapes loosely around your frame, offering both physical comfort and a semblance of emotional refuge. You're still trembling, still uncertain of what lies ahead, but at this moment, wrapped in the scent of cologne and the soft embrace of the oversized shirt, you find yourself before the closet door.

"Hey, you can come out now."

There's no movement from the door. You feel confused before remembering what he had said and raising your hand to gently knock three times. Your knuckles rap lightly against the closet door, the sound echoing in the silent room. For a moment, there's no response, only the hushed murmur of your own breathing. Then, from within the closet, you hear a soft shuffle of movement, followed by the creak of hinges as the door swings open.

Katakuri steps out, his presence filling the room once more. His shirtless form is a stark contrast to the imposing figure you've come to know, his black sweatpants hanging loosely on his frame. Without his mask, his face is revealed, and you can't help but notice deep scares that adorn his face, the sharp fangs that poke out of his lips.

He meets your gaze, his expression unreadable, before his eyes flicker down to the floor, a slight flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "Sorry," he murmurs, his voice low and hesitant. "I didn't mean to make you wait."

You shake your head, a small frown tugging at the corners of your lips. "It's okay," you reassure him, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm ready now."

With a nod, Katakuri steps aside, allowing you to pass him and make your way back into the bedroom. The scent of mochi lingers in the air, a comforting reminder of his presence beside you. As you settle back onto the bed, the oversized shirt enveloping you in its warmth, you can't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected kindness of your new husband.

"Thank you," you murmur softly, offering a grateful nod as you settle back onto the dresser, the oversized shirt providing a comforting shield against the lingering tension in the room. But as you find yourself propped on the wood surface, a lingering ache in your wrist prompts a question you can't ignore.

"Katakuri," you begin tentatively, your gaze meeting his with a mixture of curiosity and concern, "about your wrist... I'm sorry if I hurt you earlier."

His brows furrow slightly at your words, a hint of surprise crossing his features before he sighs, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's alright," he assures you gently, his tone carrying a sense of understanding. "I knew you'd be asking about that next. And I'm sorry for tugging you so harshly and for any other discomfort, I may have caused you. When I entered and didn't see you, I assumed they were going to send you in after me shortly."

You take in his apology, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at his understanding. It's a response you hadn't expected, one that speaks volumes about his character. In the dim light of the room, you can see the sincerity in his eyes, a quiet reassurance in his presence.

"Thank you," you reply softly, offering him a small nod. "I appreciate your understanding."

He meets your gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between you before he nods, a small gesture of reassurance. But before the silence settles between you, another question tugs at your thoughts, one that you can't ignore any longer.

"Katakuri," you begin, your voice hesitant as you broach the topic, "about your stab wound... How did you...?"

His expression softens as he meets your gaze, a knowing glint in his eyes. "I figured you'd asking about that next," he admits with a faint chuckle, his tone laced with amusement. "My Devil Fruit powers allow me to manipulate mochi, shaping it into various forms and even extending my limbs. When you stabbed my wrist, it was made of mochi, so it didn't hurt as much as you might think."

You listen intently as he explains, feeling a sense of awe at the revelation of his abilities. It's a reminder of the world you've been thrust into, one filled with wonders and dangers alike. But in that moment, as you sit together in the quiet of the room, you find a sense of comfort in the genuine conversation between you.

As the conversation unfolds, your curiosity drifts to the scars that adorn Katakuri's mouth, the faint lines drawing your attention.

"Katakuri," you inquire softly, your voice filled with genuine interest, "what happened to your mouth? Those scars... they look like they've seen their fair share of battles."

His expression shifts slightly at your question, a hint of hesitation crossing his features before he offers a faint smile. "Ah, these scars," he begins, his voice tinged with a mixture of nostalgia and vulnerability. "They're... a remainder of a childhood mishap, you could say."

You sense his reluctance to delve deeper into the topic, a subtle tension underlying his words. "I got them when I was young," he continues, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant.

"An accident involving... donuts."

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, a hint of amusement creeping into your expression despite the seriousness of the moment. "Donuts?" you repeat, unable to suppress a small chuckle.

Katakuri nods, a faint blush coloring his cheeks as he looks . "Yes, donuts," he confirms, his tone slightly sheepish. "I... stretched my mouth open too wide while eating them, and... well, the rest is history."

You can't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, realizing the vulnerability he must feel about the scars. "I'm sorry," you offer softly, your voice filled with genuine empathy. "It must have been difficult for you."

He meets your gaze with a grateful nod, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. "Thank you," he murmurs, his tone sincere.

"It's... not something I talk about often."

You nod in understanding, sensing the weight of his words as you sit together in the quiet of the room. At that moment, you find yourself grateful for the opportunity to learn more about the man behind the mask, scars, and all.

As the conversation winds down, Katakuri glances at the clock on the wall, noting the lateness of the hour. "It's getting late," he remarks, his voice gentle but firm. "You should get some sleep."

At his words, a wave of panic washes over you, the prospect of sleeping in the same bed with him filling you with dread. Katakuri notices the sudden change in your demeanor, his brows furrowing in concern. "Is something wrong?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours.

You hesitate, unsure of how to voice your fear. But before you can respond, he speaks again, his tone reassuring. "I could sleep in the closet," he offers, his voice calm but resolute. "You can have the bed to yourself."

Relief floods through you at his words, gratitude mingling with the lingering fear in your heart. "Thank you," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a nod, Katakuri moves to the bed, but you find yourself unable to follow. The fear still grips you, holding you back from taking that step. Sensing your hesitation, Katakuri pauses, his gaze softening as he turns back to you.

"What's wrong?" he inquires gently, his eyes filled with understanding.

You take a deep breath, summoning the courage to voice your feelings. "I'm... afraid," you admit, your voice trembling with emotion.

"I don't think I can..."

Katakuri considers your words for a moment, his expression thoughtful. Then, with a decisive nod, he moves to the bed, swiftly stripping it of all its coverings. "We'll make a makeshift bed on the floor," he decides, his voice calm but determined.

You watch in silence as he gathers extra pillows and blankets from the closet, his movements efficient yet gentle. When he returns, he offers you a choice of designs for the blanket, a small gesture of kindness that touches your heart.

With a grateful nod, you select a donut design, your fingers trembling slightly as you take the blanket from him. Together, you create a makeshift bed on the floor, arranging the pillows and blankets until they form a comfortable nest.

Katakuri finishes arranging the makeshift bed with a satisfied smile, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes. "Alright, this should do it. I used to do the same for my siblings when they were younger," he remarks, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Turning to you, he waits for your response.

As he mentions returning to the closet, you remember his earlier promise not to touch you, a gesture of respect and consideration that doesn't go unnoticed. You meet his gaze, silently contemplating his offer.

After a moment of thought, you shake your head slightly. "I wouldn't mind if you slept on the opposite end of the pillow fort," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

A small smile graces Katakuri's lips at your suggestion. "Alright," he replies, his tone warm and accepting. With a nod, he settles down on the opposite end of the makeshift bed, giving you a comfortable distance.

The room falls into a hushed darkness as Katakuri dims the lights, casting soft shadows across the walls. You watch him settle onto his side of the makeshift bed, his movements deliberate and controlled. With a quiet sigh, you follow suit, curling up on your side, facing away from him.

As you lie there in the stillness of the room, you try to quiet your mind, to let the events of the day fade into the background. But try as you might, sleep eludes you. Your thoughts drift back to the chaotic events that led you here, to this unfamiliar room in a mansion far from home.

You remember the fear and desperation, the overwhelming sense of helplessness as you found yourself trapped in a nightmare not of your making. The tears come unbidden, silently slipping down your cheeks as you relive the terror of facing a future filled with uncertainty.

Each sob threatens to unravel the fragile calm you've managed to hold onto, leaving you feeling raw and exposed. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing the tears to stop, but they keep coming, a relentless torrent of emotion that refuses to be contained.

The weight of the day's events bears down on you, pressing against your chest like a heavy burden. Your breath becomes shallow and uneven, your heart pounding in your ears as you struggle to find a moment's respite from the turmoil raging within.

You turn onto your back, staring up at the ceiling, feeling utterly alone in the darkness. The quiet of the room is suffocating, the absence of noise amplifying the cacophony of thoughts swirling in your mind.

You try to focus on your breathing, to find some semblance of calm amidst the storm raging within you. But each inhale feels strained, each exhale a release of pent-up tension that only seems to fuel your restlessness.

You toss and turn, shifting from one position to another, but no matter how hard you try, sleep remains elusive. The hours drag on, stretching into eternity, and still, you lie there, trapped in the prison of your own thoughts.

And as the first light of dawn filters through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the room, you realize with a sinking heart that sleep will not come this night.

You feel a presence, and you turn over to find Katakuri looking at you with concern etched across his features. His eyes are soft, a stark contrast to the imposing figure you've come to know. In that moment, you realize he's not just a fearsome pirate, but also a man burdened with his own worries and doubts.

He sees the tears glistening on your cheeks and without a word, he rises from the makeshift bed and retrieves more tissues, sliding them over to you with a quiet understanding. You meet his gaze, studying the lines of tension in his brow, the slight furrow of his brow that speaks volumes of his concern.

It occurs to you then, that he's not unaffected by the events of the night. Beneath his stoic exterior lies a vulnerability you hadn't noticed before, a vulnerability mirrored in your own trembling hands and tear-streaked face.

"Katakuri," you whisper, his name a lifeline in the darkness. He stands at attention, his posture rigid with anticipation. You pause, unsure of what to say, but knowing that you need to say something, anything to bridge the gap between you.

You feel your heart reach out to him, a silent acknowledgment of the shared struggle you both face. He meets your gaze, his eyes searching yours for reassurance, for solace. And in that moment, you see him not as an enemy, but as someone who, like you, is grappling with the weight of their own emotions.

"I... I just want to thank you," you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. "For... for being here. For... for helping me."

His expression softens, a flicker of understanding passing between you.

"You are most welcome."

You glance once more at the bed, then decisively grab the donut blanket and climb on top of it. Katakuri watches you, a mixture of confusion and concern evident in his expression as you make your move.

Scooting back into the bed, you pat the space where you were just sitting, silently inviting him to join you. He stares at the spot for a long moment, his brow furrowed with contemplation, before finally taking a seat beside you.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you turn to him, your voice soft but determined. "If you would accept," you begin, meeting his gaze head-on, "I will give you permission to sleep next to me and touch me, but only for comfort and if you consent to do so. I do not wish to consummate our marriage."

There's a vulnerability in your words, a raw honesty that lays bare your fears and desires. Katakuri's expression softens as he processes your words, his eyes searching yours for a moment before a myriad of emotions flickers across his face.

Finally, he nods, a solemn acceptance of your terms. "I understand," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I accept your conditions."

Relief floods through you, mingling with the lingering apprehension. Tentatively, you reach out to him, your voice trembling slightly as you continue, "But I do need a hug and would like one from you."

His gaze softens further, and without a word, he pulls you into his arms, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. In that moment, as you rest against his chest, you feel a sense of connection and understanding.

As Katakuri's arms wrap around you, you can feel the steady, rhythmic beating of his heart beneath his chest. His warmth seeps into you, a soothing balm against the cold dread that's settled in your bones. His muscles are tense at first, a reflection of his own uncertainty, but as you gently pat his shoulder, he begins to relax, the rigidity in his frame easing with each tender touch.

"May I pet your hair?" he asks softly, his voice a gentle murmur in the quiet room.

You nod against his chest, your consent a whisper in the stillness. His fingers thread through your hair with a careful touch, the sensation both comforting and intimate.

The knots in your chest and the tangled web of thoughts in your mind start to melt away as his gentle ministrations continue. His scent—a unique blend of mochi, donuts, and a hint of campfire smoke—envelops you, grounding you in the present moment and gradually clearing the fog of your anxieties.

You nuzzle into him softly, feeling a newfound sense of safety in his embrace. An idea forms in your mind, a way to comfort him in return.

"May I touch your cheek?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

There's a moment of silence, a pause that stretches on until he finally answers quietly, "Yes."

Slowly, you raise your hand to his cheek, your fingers trembling slightly. As you let your fingers trace over his scar, you can feel the texture of the healed skin, and the vulnerability he rarely shows. His eyes close briefly, and you sense the tension in him easing further, your touch a silent offering of understanding and acceptance.

Katakuri leans into your touch, the warmth of your palm against his scarred cheek seeming to provide him with a sense of comfort and solace. His eyes flutter closed, and you can feel the last remnants of tension drain from his body. The rhythmic motion of his fingers in your hair slows, his breath becoming deeper and more even.

Before you know it, he's fallen asleep, his head resting gently against your hand. The sight of him, so vulnerable and at peace, tugs at your heartstrings. The steady rise and fall of his chest, and the softness of his expression, make you realize how exhausting this day has been for both of you.

You let your hand linger on his cheek for a moment longer, taking in the tranquility of the scene. His steady heartbeat beneath your touch, the warmth of his body, and the faint scent of mochi and campfire smoke create a cocoon of calm around you. For the first time since this ordeal began, you feel a glimmer of hope.

As you nuzzle into him, you close your eyes, letting the security of his presence lull you into a gentle sleep. Wrapped in the warmth of each other's embrace, the world outside fades away, leaving only the quiet promise of a new beginning in its wake.

You're both in this together, navigating the uncertainties of your situation as a team.

_____________________________________________________________

That was part 1 folks, lemme know how you liked it!

Make sure you check out the a03 account by the same name. Everything I have posted here is there in chronological order. I also have other hot One piece characters posted in the masterlist! Give them a read if you please!

Be sure to check out my other works and leave likes and comments, they really help. Drop a follow as well if you please. Don’t be shy to leave me a little reblog if you want. I am also currently taking requests.

I promise I bite~

Seen you soon my loves!!~ <<33

[peasant-player]

Elrond with dramborleg

"His hair was dark as the shadows of twilight, and upon it was set a circlet of silver; his eyes were grey as a clear evening, and in them was a light like the light of stars."

This drawing was for @armenelols and @polutrope post about elrond using a family heirloom "dramborleg".

Oh boy I had so much fun.

My main thought while painting this was " what would be different about elrond?"

And the answer is alot but a the same time nothing.

Elrond is in a way a sad character he kind of lost everything and the only constance in his life is the heralded past of his ancestors/family and friends.

He almost can't remember his parents but he can read about them even maglor is ,despite being a kindslayer, described as strong imposing and a mighty warrior.

His own brother,who chooses mortality,is a revered king!

This elrond that I depicted here is not the lord of Riverdale. Not married yet.

This is a elrond who will stand between evil and his folk.

Just like his ancestors did.

He is holding a legacy of strong unrelenting men who did change the tides of war who done the impossible no one else did before them!.

This is also elrond who found out that his brothers legacy Numenor is at the bottom of the sea - because of sauron.

This is a elrond who becomes a lord for many different kind of elves because he is a different kind of elve.

[deadbaguette]

Some Athena thoughts and headcanons for the ‘Diomedes goes to Ithaca AU’

Headcanon that Athena moves around completely quietly (like how owls hunt). So, Telemachus meeting Athena for the first time he gets the shit scared out of him. Diomedes by now knows the tells of Athena being here (and he has the magic eyes) so he’s the one basically warning Telemachus if Athena is in proximity

Telemachus: are you even listening???

Diomedes staring intently at the dodgy looking owl (Athena) in the tree: …yeah

Athena is very much still cool aunt. But I wanna characterise her as a little more mischievous (which could be interpreted as cunning ig) than she probably is in the original mythos. She keeps a close eye on both Telemachus and Diomedes. Most specifically Telemachus! While she cannot reveal to him that Odysseus is alive directly (she cannot incur the wrath of her uncle just yet), she does help him in starting his little Telemachy. It helps boosts his confidence and helps reassure him that maybe his father is alive. HOWEVER, the sudden disappearance of Telemachus causes the stress meters of Diomedes and Penelope to exponentially rise. And Athena finds this a little funny, so she still withholds the information from them.

Telemachus: Athena… sometimes I wonder if father is dead :(

Athena in disguise clenching her fists to try not reveal anything: … he’s too stubborn to die, have a little more faith in him

Athena:

Athena: Hey, I have a great idea if you’re worried about your dad

-

Penelope stressed out of her mind: WHERE IS HE???

Diomedes equally stressed: I DON’T FUCKING KNOW?.?.????

Athena: *eating popcorn knowing she’ll make sure Telemachus is safe*

Athena is keeping this family very blessed. She is the patron goddess of both Odysseus and Diomedes, and I like to imagine maybe in a more subtle way to Penelope too (I mean… she’s smart, beautiful, AND she can weave???). She’s much closer to Telemachus in this AU than in the original Odyssey, but not like in the way of EPIC?? She keeps her distance from him nonetheless bcs she’s a god and whatnot, but him being close with Diomedes, I imagine Athena has more of an excuse to be around Telemachus growing up.

Telemachus: so.. you knew my father and Diomedes growing up?

Athena trying to act nonchalant, but she’s so proud of them both: you could say that

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Bruce is Jason’s biological father.

He finds out about it during the autopsy after Ethiopia.

[mentha-vacciniumrainbow]

Carmine family shenanigans!

Zestial loves playing with Carmilla’s hair, and the girls love playing with his hat and spider pin. Carmilla loves having fun with her family... it's a win win situation for everybody 🖤🕷🌹❤

A simple drawing, I hope you will enjoy!

Inspired by a post sent by @infinityundone on the Zestmilla discord server.

[oneluckydragon]

"What do you remember of being human, Echo?" The question is out of the blue and unexpected. But Sora offers a patient smile and tilts her head in curiosity, just enough that one of her ears flops over. It's endearing, if anything.

But Echo wishes she hadn't asked.

"Not much. Distinct memories are cloudy." A tired tone says softly, a pained recollection in her eyes and an acrid haze in her soul that endures, endures, and endures, "But I remember the discomfort more than anything. My body always did feel wrong back then. Misshapen. Condensed. Like it was too small for everything buried underneath, and that ache went so deeply some days that it would make my skin crawl. I hated that part the most."

At that, Sora's expression falls. She looks inexplicably sad, as if she'd hoped for a different response, a gentler one despite knowing the harsh truth about the dark future and the struggles Echo must have suffered. "But you had Grovyle, right? I'm sure he took care of you."

"He did, Sora, of course he did." A sigh, a flick of an ear and claws clenched tightly into the churned earth pressed under her paws. "I doubt I deserved his attention, though. I was too busy being angry at the world to give any care back."

In my lore, Echo does not look fully human during their time in the dark future. Since they were Darkrai before becoming human, and as a result of Palkia's reckless shattering of the Dimensional Portal which distorted both time and space, Echo's transformation was broken and accidental. They ended up looking pretty messed up and definitely (not) human. A lot of their characteristics as Darkrai carried over but rather morphed into something else.

And Grovyle, growing up in a world where humans have been extinct for longer than any living pokémon has been alive, has no concept of what a "true" human looks like. The only thing he knows is descriptions of humans from glyphs and texts in old ruins. Thus, he mistakes Echo for an actual human. And Echo, not knowing what a human looks like themselves due to amnesia, accepts this identification with nothing better to use.

[lazyjellyfishcreation]

My thoughts on witcher!jaskier

So, so. I have been looking at a lot of witcher!jaskier shit lately, and eventhough bear!jaskier strikes a cord in my heart, to me, jask will always be a cat. So, with Jaskier being a cat, he would know Aiden, that would be logical. My question: what would their relationship be? my headcanon, Jaskier is Aidens teacher! Hear me out. Julek (jaskier's first actual name) was a promising young witcher of about 50 years old when it happend. He doesn't go to the caravan often because he doesn't like his siblings all that much, but he occasionally does to gamble and drink without having to worry about prejudice. He gambles his fun money away and gets drunk as a skunk in the process. He then remembers just how much he doesn't like being at the caravan and in his drunken mind decides to leave the caravan then and there to continue on the path. On his way out he stumbles into the wrong cart and finds Aiden. Aiden came out wrong. When he went trough the grasses (i hc that eventhough the cats do take in witchers from other schools that came out wrong, they also made their own, and aiden was one of the later.) Usually, a cat comming out with weird mutations isn't a problem, that's the cats school's specialty. But Aiden was a step too far. Aiden was deaf after the grasses. And the mages wanted to know why, so they strapped him to a table, to dissect him later. that's where Julek finds him. at 12 years old, scared, feverish from the grasses, alone, unable to hear, and not knowing what is going got happen to him. Julek, drunk as he is, decides that this is the perfect opportunity to make a shit decision and just. Takes. The kid. Julek just steals this child, and when he sobers up he realizes that that was a shit desicion but can't go back now, not when the kid looks up at him with scared sad eyes and go god he is gonna get so attached to this kid. So, Julek raises Aiden to the best of his abilties. He feeds him, trains him, teaches him the speech of hands (sighn language). Aiden is a smart boy, and phenomenal with trowing knives, he truly has impeccable aim. He's large too. Whatever took his hearing made him grow fast as fuck. Eventually, just when Aiden is getting used to not hearing, after a year or so, fate is cruel to him once again and takes his silent safety. Getting his hearing back is excutiating. Everything is loud, and sounds are so sharp now and it is overwhelming and aiden just want's it to be quit again but it is never quiet and and and. He's not having a good time. It takes him well over a month for him to adjusted to sounds. But now his hearing is better then any witcher's. It's overwhelming and it hurts but at least he can hear the monsters coming now.

All the while they are getting chased. Rememeber: Julek took a kit that wasn't his, not only that, Aiden was supposed to be a sience experiment and the cat mages want him back. so, 3 years after aiden getting stolen they make the desicion to go back to the caravan and claim aiden as julek's kit, to keep them from being hunted.

only problem: only grandmasters can assighn a witcher a kit to go on the path with, and the current grandmaster won't do it, because the mages want to keep him. so, Julek does the sane thing and chalenges the granmaster. If he wins and kills the grandmaster, then he becomes the grandmaster and can claim Aiden. if not, well... he wont be around to witness what they would do to his kit (son) nobody expects this 50 something year old witcher to beat the grandmaster with a century of experience under his belt. Julek is good, but he's (relatively) young. They are all wrong. Julek wins. Aiden is his. He claims his kid, steps down from the grandmaster position and fucks right off. I have so much more for this au but it's late so i might write that later if you want.

[lale-txt]

i knew Soft Launch reached the right audience when the comments about the wlw dating being deeply relatable piled up lmao

[ablazenqueen]

The most upsetting part of this scene (and probably the whole ep) are these two looks:

Because the look on Jeff’s face? It’s hopeful and trusting. He has just the slightest ghost of a smile when he looks at Alan, he looks like he has full confidence that Alan is going to back him up, continue backing him up like he does at the start of this confrontation.

But the look on Alan’s face? It’s doubt. He looks at Jeff and he thinks maybe and he breaks eye contact, looks away just slightly, drops his gaze, because he wants to trust Jeff and he can see the hope in those eyes, but he’s unsure. And even if he chooses to trust Jeff, he’s team leader, how can he not side with his boys? How can he not support the majority, the boys he’s known the longest, the boys who’ve proven their loyalty to him and each other over years, and offer the resolution that most benefits the most amount of people?

How can he not choose the rational resolution, even if it requires squashing that hard-earned trust?