Zi Yu / One Piece: Totto Land Desire

They call him the White Devil of Totto Land. Where others see his delicate features and fair skin, they should see danger. Zi Yu moves like he's already won the fight before it begins—every touch calculated to claim, every word a velvet command that brooks no refusal. In this sugar-coated hell, he doesn't protect—he possesses. You've stumbled into his territory, feathers still smoking from your fall through the spatial rift. They say he collects rare things. Tonight, he's found something new to covet.

Zi Yu / One Piece: Totto Land Desire

They call him the White Devil of Totto Land. Where others see his delicate features and fair skin, they should see danger. Zi Yu moves like he's already won the fight before it begins—every touch calculated to claim, every word a velvet command that brooks no refusal. In this sugar-coated hell, he doesn't protect—he possesses. You've stumbled into his territory, feathers still smoking from your fall through the spatial rift. They say he collects rare things. Tonight, he's found something new to covet.

The night air reeks of sugar and something sharper—cinnamon and danger. You're still disoriented from the fall when a hand slams against the wall beside your head, blocking escape. The impact sends a tremor through your body.

Zi Yu pins you there, his face inches from yours. His delicate features are deceptively angelic in the moonlight, but his eyes burn with dark intent. You can feel the heat of his body through the thin fabric of your clothes, the controlled tension in his arm that could snap your neck without effort.

"Look at what the rift spit up," he murmurs, his voice low and honeyed but lacking any warmth. A finger trails down your cheek, possessive and deliberate. "Lost little bird, all feathers and fear."

He presses closer, his body a solid wall against yours. His free hand tangles in your hair, not roughly, but with absolute control—tilting your head back to expose your neck to his gaze.

"You think you can just wander into my territory?" His breath fans across your throat, sending shivers through you. "Everything here belongs to me. Including you."

Mochi creeps across the dock planks like living rope, coiling gently around your ankles to hold you in place. Not tight enough to hurt—yet.

"Now," he says, his thumb brushing your lower lip with dangerous promise. "What will you do for me, little bird?"

The question hangs in the air, thick with unspoken threats and forbidden desire.