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cinnamonest · 3 months

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No no, because yandere Adachi has so much potential. Like imagine him getting attached to just some convenience store worker he sees daily on his way home. He’d be friendly, kind, and even warn her of being safe on her way home because of the killer loose. Oh? You’re near the end of your shift? Why not just let him take you home? He’s a cop, after all. He’s trustworthy. darling would never see it coming whenever he knocks her out and drags her into his apartment. He’d be so very cruel, too. Never taking her gag off, threatening her for one wrong move. He’d expect her to play right into his fantasies (be too frightened of him to fight back and then act just like a perfect wife/girlfriend, no misbehaving needed) while acting completely insufferable.

I have like an endless amount of ideas/scenarios for this.

(Crazy that I did not even remember what day it is/notice the perfect timing until just now as I was copying this to post, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOHRU ADACHI)

YOU get it anon. Also PLEASE share those ideas, same goes to all 2 of my fellow Adachi appreciators here, because I have so much to say about this awful man. I'm just gonna ramble a bit here

//nasty stuff here, the usual but extra dark/intense because this is Adachi we’re talking about so how could it not be

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Tohru absolutely utilizes his status as a cop to his advantage. He knows it adds an element of social trust, that you won't be as on-guard with him as you would any other guy. He’s there to protect the general public, to apprehend bad guys — of course he’s a good guy!

He loves that you appreciate it — that adorable little voice, before you got to know him well enough to go by a name-basis, where you'd say ‘thank you officer! Have a great day!’ whenever he stops by the store.

So cute, so pure, so innocent, he thinks.

He wants to ruin you.

The man has some violent, violent thoughts. He doesn't even try to keep things pure and wholesome when he thinks about you, nor even limited to normal perversions. The very day he meets you, he goes home and spends the rest of the day jerking off to imagining your squeals and cries and tears with his hands around your throat. Oh, how he wants to feel you struggle, afraid and confused and the way you'd feel so betrayed when the policeman you trusted to keep you safe is balls deep in every hole you have, holding you down with ease. You look like you'd be weak. God, it would be so easy—

No, it will. It will be so easy, because he will do it.

You're probably not aware of it either. Most girls aren't, he thinks, they have no idea how weak and easily overpowered they are. He of all people would know — even when they're fighting for their lives, they’re so weak.

But you should be weak. It’s cute. Just like how you should be scared, innocent, sweet, obedient… the man definitely is the type to construct an unrealistic idea of darling in his head as perfect, someone who has no flaws in his mind, and he would absolutely have a “purity” fixation… so if that illusion is shattered in any way, he becomes very spiteful.

Canonically, he develops a crush over a woman he doesn’t even know and feels entitled to women on sheer principle of liking them, going to the extent of a woman having her own life as a “betrayal”… you’re not exempt from the exact same thing.

So God forbid he find out you’ve ever had a boyfriend or lover of any kind in the past… or worse… he’s going home one day, expecting to see his adorable beloved and wave to her from the street, only to spot her hugging and holding hands with some other guy? To realize that she's had a boyfriend this whole time?

Oh, he loses it. No outwardly — not yet — but he goes home, punches a wall, seethes and paces around for a while before moping in bed for some time.

It’s like a switch flipped in his head. Ugh. It’s like a betrayal. How could you… and as he mopes, it becomes so very obvious that this was intentional. You led him on on purpose. What were you thinking, being nice to him? You obviously wanted him to like you. It feels malicious, it’s painful.

You’re so stupid, so naive. Dumb little whore. Don’t you realize you’re playing with fire? Didn’t you think about the consequences your actions would have?

Because oh, will they have consequences. No way is he letting you get away with doing this to him. You’ll pay for what you’ve done.

He entertains that idea at the peak of his bitter wallowing — it would be just as easy as before. You probably have a TV set in your home. He could break in and just…

No. Dammit, he’s already too attached to you. He’s known you personally for a while now. He can’t do that. He wants to keep you.

It’s okay… well, no, it’s not okay, but he’s a very generous guy, you know. If you apologize and beg good enough, he’ll even consider forgiving you.

And you do. You squirm and cry and claw at his hands when he holds you up by your throat. It’s not good enough the first time, but when he squeezes down hard and tells you to try harder, asks you if that’s the best you can do, you finally get it right, finally say how sorry you are and properly beg for him to not kill you.

It’s enough to adequately make amends and begin the atonement process, at least. You’ll have the rest of your lives together to complete that process.

He makes good use of you, after bringing you home. Darling is the perfect little squeeze toy to him. He deals with a lot of stress, you know? He spends all day getting yelled at and pushed around by Dojima, and underneath the bumbling airhead act, it makes him seethe. He used to go home and break things, punch walls, throw things… but now he doesn't have to do that. He can just take all that stress out on you and your poor holes.

Holding your head down with a painful grip in your hair with one hand, holding your hips up and jerking your body back against his, nails digging into your flesh with the other, ramming into you over and over until your insides are sore and raw. Or holding your head firmly in place as you gag and cough and try to pull your head away, fucking your throat with not even an ounce of mercy, jerking your head down all the way and holding it there when he cums down your throat.

The stress relief is verbal, too. Oh, he's so, so mean, calls you every degrading term you can think of when he's rutting into you.. but it also comes out outside of those times too. He vents to you, whether you care to really listen or not. Just goes on and on about everything that upsets him, how much he hates this and that, how he wishes this or that person would just die so he wouldn't have to deal with them anymore… you never really know how to respond, but thankfully he doesn't actually seem to be looking for much of a response, more just someone to listen to him. In truth, it almost makes you feel a little bad for him... but you try to stave off such thoughts.

But that's just his default. That's when he's having a decent day, just the natural amount of stress he has. When he's had a bad day, it's much worse.

You learn to tell when he's had a bad day the moment he walks through the door — you hear how harsh each motion is, how he opens and closes the door, his footsteps, even his breathing as he makes his way over to you. The gruff ‘come here’ as he storms over to you, the harshness with which you're dragged over to bed and thrown down.

Those days are more violent — you end up with scratches and bites and bruises all over your body, strands of hair coming out where he pulled so hard, holes twitching and spasming and cum pouring out of you as you lay there exhausted and sore (as for him, though, he's out like a light as soon as it's over, and the grip he keeps on you means you're not getting up again either).

Being a cop also gives him a lot of tools most people wouldn't have access to. He has easy access to handcuffs and weapons. The handcuffs keep you however he wants you positioned, and he'll use some on your ankles too if need be.

He’s used the stun gun on his belt as a threat plenty of times — you used to think he was bluffing, but one day you go too far and it turns out it's not a bluff at all. It's a horrible, horrible sensation… but even worse is the way he laughs while he shocks you, exhilarated by — and probably, honestly, getting off to — the way you squeal and spasm.

Unfortunately, it awakens something — maybe he could use it on you more often, put it right up to your most sensitive places and see how you react… although not without building up dread and anticipation first, pressing it to your skin so that you beg and cry and he taunts you so mercilessly, with that awful awful smile on his face, before pushing the button and hearing you cry.

...But he's not always so awful. He still includes you in his normal life, at least. You almost wish he didn't. It's this oddly domestic vibe, once all the brutality of the day is out and he's tired and bored.

You talk — at first you kept being annoying and pesting him about letting you go, to which — much to your dread, a pit in your stomach every time he says it — he tells you you're never leaving, so shut up about it. But eventually, with no one else to interact with, you talk about all sorts of things, sometimes almost feeling like a normal conversation with a friend. He brings home food for you, and admittedly, you're almost surprised by the fact that he actually does ask what you want and gets you something different from what he gets based on your tastes. You didn't expect that sort of consideration.

You watch TV (he keeps you chained out of actual reach of the TV itself, just in case you get any ideas), the news (only for him to awkwardly change the channel when your disappearance was being discussed on local news), he even takes your request once or twice to pick up a movie to watch (although he's very critical, particularly if it's too ‘girly’ for his tastes).

But he's still so, so mean, such a bully. You have a lot of time to reflect on it all, and one day you confront him with it — tell him that you know that the reason he does all of this to you, the reason he can't just be normal is because he's bitter and spiteful and afraid of rejection. At first, you sound angry — and as you speak, the way his face contorts with disgust and fury makes you think you may just push him over the edge to actually kill you, and frankly, at this point, it's something you're willing to accept.

But then, tears in your eyes, voice growing quieter, you add—

I really liked you… I thought you were a good guy…

That makes him pause. He gets quiet. You see his face fall to an expression you can't quite name, eyes half-lidded and mouth pulled into a taut line.

Finally, he shrugs, giving you a cruel, snide grin.

Not my fault you were so stupid.

That's all the response you get, and remarkably, that last comment seems to make him let go of being infuriated over everything else you said. For a moment, though, you swear you catch him looking down at the ground with a miserable expression, as if those words actually had a profound effect on him… but it lasts only a second — as soon as he catches you looking at him, his eyes fixate on you again, that smile you hate so much comes creeping back, and your heart sinks as he takes agonizingly slow footsteps over to your helpless, shivering little form….

#.persona #he would be 40 years old today based on his canon DOB 🥺#this is just tip of the iceberg thoughts though... i have more ill get to eventually #also i really like the thought of cop!yanderes in general #theres a lot of potential there

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ferahntics · 11 months

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@startistdoodles and I have been occupied, to say the least, and created our Magnum Opus that is Quidia 😂❤ (Quiver Knight and Sidia Knight)

This started off as a joke and a ‘haha if they were a couple they’d be cranky all the time’ and it just kind of. Torpedoed itself off the coast into a full-blown in-depth ship with development and we’re losing our minds.

So of course we threw this together, Star drew the many Sidias, the wedding drawing above and the adorable bonding moment in the post below, I drew Quivers and handled the graphic design portion. This was insanely fun to do aaaaa 💕💕💕

Here’s the blank for the 5 minute template!

#the snail in our brains took over #that's a running joke too KJSHDG #please listen they are so wholesome and we're not getting tired either xD #quiver #quiver knight #sidia #sidia knight #collab #collaboration #startistdoodles #kirby #kirby oc #quidia #fan character #believe me when I say this is just the very very tip of the iceberg #but if we put it all here this post would never end #or we'd reach tumblr's limit if there is one xD #enjoy these two as much as Star and I do cause looooord we've reached enlightenment

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uhbasicallyjustmilex · 1 year

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ways journalists have really described alex turner and miles kane:

"Wearing matching outfits, gazing into each other's eyes, talking about their instant connection… Alex and Miles' claims that they wrote the Shadow Puppets' album about 'a girl' weren't fooling anyone. Quite simply Alex and Miles are hopelessly, madly, enviably in love with each other. Please lads, just be true to yourselves, embrace your feelings, and have a massive snog - we can't bear the tension any more." - NME

“If there’s one sexual dynamic at work tonight at the Usher Hall, it’s homoeroticism. The Last Brokeback Mountaineers are a camp pair of strutting cocks, to be sure.” - The Wee Review

"Speaking to them together feels like interrupting a conversation that's been going on since 2005." - NME

“Looking over at his manspreading counterpart, Kane gleefully points at Turner’s exposed bulge. Not wanting to be rude, I look away.” - SPIN

“Watching them finish each others’ sentences, agonise over their answers to how well they know each other and embrace when it’s time to leave... well, you’d need a heart made of Hoosiers CDs not to find it incredibly sickly sweet.” - NME

“Alex Turner and Miles Kane turn towards each other with fond looks when we suggest they’re best friends. Like doodle in each other’s notebooks BFF status. After spending 15 minutes with them though, we’re pretty convinced they’re going to grow old together in matching tracksuits.” - Sidewalk Hustle

“Miles Kane looks like he’s gagging for a great big man-hug (and maybe more...) off his buddy. These two have spent overly long admiring themselves and each other.” - The Wee Review

“As soon as I decide to just get started without Kane, Turner accidentally Facetimes him from his pocket, and the two erupt into a fit of giggles, our conversation veering off course for the third time in as many minutes.” - Consequence

“While Turner stares on the ground during his answers, Kane watches him like a lovestruck teenager from the side.” - Musikexpress

“Say this for Lennon and McCartney, or Plant and Page: they never had their own romantic rock ‘n’ roll portmanteau. But “Milex”—Miles Kane and Alex Turner, for the uninitiated—have just that enviable kind of bromance. The two even moved to Los Angeles in tandem a few years ago. No wonder multiple “Milex” pages have cropped up on Tumblr, breathlessly re-posting the duo’s every embrace and droll quip; there is fan fiction, too, the kind that would make a coal miner blush.” - Interview Magazine

'"Alex Turner is like a princess in need of his prince Miles's assistance to get down from a tower." - Dutch Review

"You'd be forgiven for barely noticing anything beyond the front of the stage, though. Like a pair of teenagers egging each other on, Turner and Kane are the most infatuated frontmen since the Pete Doherty and Carl Barat." - Hot Press

"If Miles Kane had a 'hard on' for being a front-man before The Last Shadow Puppets, he's grabbed the opportunity Turner's patronage presented him with both hands. So to speak." - Q Magazine

"The feeling is contagious too, as though we're looking in on star-crossed lovers finally reunited." - Hot Press

#okay this is really just the tip of the iceberg #but i think that's quite enough to be getting on with for now #a couple of details:#i've only quoted stuff from interviews that were actively with them or live reviews of concerts #there are also a couple of interviews in here that... yeah. i very much don't like the tone used or how the journalist has portrayed them #(see: the musikexpress one which is just so insulting to miles)#but they had quotes that were too good not to be included here #so yeah #i just wanted to make clear that just because i've included a quote here does not mean i agree with its source material #i'm really just fascinated by the sheer number of journalists who have described them in this light #also there are sources for almost all of these but a couple of them i couldn't find the links i needed but i know they are legit quotes #milex #alex turner #miles kane #the last shadow puppets #tlsp #milex interview #lulu posts

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breakitoutwildbreak · 4 months

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Waiting for KOBD to happen in Transformers Earthspark like

#That’s just the tip of the iceberg #Maccadam #knock out #knockout #breakdown #kobd #bdko #tfe #transformers #transformers earthspark #I’m not a fan of TFE overall but their designs look so good…#It makes great potential for fanart and fanfics at least…#Not a fan of Optimus’ look there tho…#And the fact that some of the original legacy characters had to be genderswapped #I know. I’m old school but that’s just how I feel. :P #Breakdown x Knock Out #ブレノク

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dulcesiabits · 1 day

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the sun is also a star.

summary: Literally just two drabbles of mhin with my oc Li where they try to bring her back to life when she dies because there is nothing sexier than obsession that even death cannot stop!

notes: 2.2k words, necromancy (descriptions of bodies + cleaning bones + emotional aftermath of bringing someone back to life)

i. I Put Every Bone of Yours Back in Place

There’s a certain clean beauty about bones, Mhin finds, that provide a reassuring and familiar weight to death.

There are 206 bones in an average human body. 80 of those bones make up the axial skeleton, and the remaining 126 bones make up the appendicular skeleton. But what Mhin finds most interesting is that a human is born with 270 bones. Somewhere, during the process of growth and development, those 64 bones are fused with other bones. To change, you must give something up. To live in the world means suffering losses, losses one isn’t even aware of.

Of course, the pages of an anatomical textbook don’t quite capture the reality of a human’s growth. There are always mutations and exceptions. Bones don’t always fuse properly, or someone may simply have been born with extra bones in their hands. It’s difficult to tell if those bones don’t affect the quality of life enough to warrant a checkup with a medical professional. No, it’s only after death that one can gauge the extent of their own deviancy, marked into their very core.

Li, thankfully, only has the average number of bones. Two hundred and six exactly, with no outlying pieces. That makes it easy for them to collect all parts of her. When Mhin lays them on the ground in a facsimile of a human’s shape, they can almost pretend it’s Li again. Her delicate wrist bones, the curve of each rib, the twist of her femur, set in their proper places. She’s beautiful, right down to her skeletal structure.

They wipe their forehead, but all it does is smear grime across their skin: rotten dirt and the faint tinge of death, blood from their own scraped fingers and flesh (from who or what they forget) caught under their nails. It had taken months for them to find her body, months of feverishly patrolling the wastelands, even begging Ais and his disgusting minions for help when weeks of searching turned fruitless. They weren’t above that, not even when their fists tightened at his little smirk. Ais would hold it over their head, they knew.

But all that mattered was that her body was found, monsters and scavengers having already nibbled on every tender part of her, clothing long since reduced to tags and tatters. Her bones shone like stars in the muck. She would be unrecognizable to anyone else, but not to Mhin. There was not a world in which they would not know her.

They had run to her body. Finally, here she was again, and they had fallen to their knees as they picked up her corpse, hugging it to their chest, gore slopping onto their chest, mindless to anything else. It didn’t matter if their shirt stained. It would be better if it stained, if her rotting flesh sunk into the fabric, so they would always carry her with them.

It took time to clean off the bones, too. That was the most exhausting part. To take her body with them into the city in the darkness of the night, to run each part under water, to scrape off all the distended flesh and severed skin without chipping her bones. To gently detangle chunks of yellowing brain matter from the hollow cavity of her skull, watching the flesh fall with a wet slap in the sink. To brush carefully around each opening, which were more delicate and prone to breakage. Through hardened muscle, dead nerves, and congealed blood. To watch the bones pile up, piece by piece, like snowfall, day after day.

Sometimes they had brought her skull to their face, to stare into the eye sockets, the rows of teeth. It was the first piece of her that they had saved. They could feel the memory of her warmth when they closed their eyes, concentrating on how the flesh that once stretched over her skull felt. Her scarred skin, her callouses, the freckle on her knuckle.

They pressed their lips to the hollow teeth, where lips should have been. Nothing but the taste of soap and death. Their first kiss, in months.

She loved to kiss them when she was still around. Mhin would reciprocate begrudgingly, their sour attitude doing little to deter her from throwing her arms around them and peppering their face in kisses. She was like an over eager affectionate puppy, and Mhin had never liked dogs for precisely that reason. But she was an exception, just barely.

The kiss they remembered most had been in her shitty apartment, kneeling in front of each other on faded red cushions. There was a pot of cooling oolong tea in front of them, and Li had found a veil somewhere that she had tossed over her head, just for fun, she claimed. It made her look like a ghost, the lace fluttering over her galaxy of hair.

Wedding rites for their people always involved family, from the little Mhin remembered of matrimonial customs. But neither of them had family left. All they had was each other. So for the tea drinking ceremony, they poured each other cups of steaming tea, raising it to their lips to sip. To honor the only family they had.

There were the three bows, too. But they remembered thinking, even then, that they wouldn’t bow to anyone. Not the uncaring heaven, not their distant ancestors. The only one they would bow to would be to the woman in front of them.

It was an unofficial ceremony. There was no one to proclaim that they now belonged to each other, no city to record whatever they were. But that never mattered. They didn’t need anyone else to prove their relationship was real.

This had been real. Li, in front of them. The bitter tea lingering on their tongue. The sunlight, filtering across the dusty air, making her holy.

They had pushed back her veil, then, and she had smiled mischievously as she grabbed their hand, before pulling the veil so it fell over both of them instead. A benediction, as soft as snow, covering the world in a gauzy, dream of white as she brought her lips to theirs.

The very night they finish cleaning her bones, they return to the wastelands. And now they are laying her bones down piece by piece, in correct anatomical order. They had studied their own textbooks feverishly, just to ensure they wouldn’t mess up the placement, not at this critical juncture. They count over each bone, an obsessive gesture they’ve repeated throughout the night. 206. 206. 206. All in order, all laid out precisely as it would be if Li was taking a nap with her arms outstretched.

The moonlight filters down. Soulless call in the distance, but their dagger is ready at their hip. For an instant, Mhin lets themself relax, and bends down to caress Li’s skull again. The intimate parts of her, which no one but them would ever know and understand.

It was thoughtless of her to leave them behind. She had always been a little scatter-brained and clumsy, prone to having the money stolen right out of her pocket despite being a self-proclaimed thief. But this was her worst mistake yet. To die without them. To rest so peacefully, while making them suffer.

It went against what she always said: that it would just be the two of them, together. And yet she had left them. She had taken on a dangerous job, an escort mission across miles of barren wastelands, soulless at every corner. She had gone out that fateful night, blowing them kisses, promising to return, and then never came home. Hypocrite. How could she do that to them?

But it was fine. It would be fine, and they could forgive her. They would be together again. Mhin was simply fulfilling the promise they made. Even if she cursed them and cried and begged for peace, they would drag her back down to earth, back to their side. It wouldn’t be right otherwise.

They stare down at her bones again. Resurrection was a forbidden art, but Leander had lent them the proper tools for the ritual, the magic and the spells, like a snake whispering in their ear. Weeks of fruitless searching on their own, and Leander was the only one who could offer them what they needed. They would take whatever hand offered them a way to save her, even if it was from someone like him.

Because they were hers, and she was theirs, and not even death would separate them. They would bring her back, and they would tie her so tightly to them that they would be together in every life after this.

Mhin took a breath, and spoke the opening words of the spell as the moonlight spilled over Li’s bones, as if she was waiting for them, too.

ii. Even if You Come Back Wrong, You’re Still Mine

“Sorry.” That’s the first word Li spoke to them, with her palms outstretched in front of her, like a scolded puppy. “It fell.”

It’s easy enough to see the bone protruding from her right hand, the finger cupped in her palms. Mhin lets out a short little sigh. Things like this had become common as of late, her body disintegrating bit by bit after the ritual.

“It’s fine,” they say, gesturing for her to sit. “We can just fix it.”

Li obediently perches on the kitchen chair, and Mhin kneels in front of her, gently taking her broken hand in their own. Her skin is cold, and no amount of rubbing could bring the warmth back into her skin. They had tried, but whatever warmth from their touch her skin absorbed would simply dissipate in a few hours.

They take out the sewing kit from their pocket, a recent benediction from Kuras. When they had tersely asked him for medical supplies, for thick, transparent thread and needles that could puncture skin, Kuras had wordlessly handed them the kit without question. There was never any judgment or pity with Kuras, but his gaze had still seared their skin.

Mhin deftly threads the needle, holding the finger in place, and makes quick, even stitches across Li’s finger. They’re good at delicate work like this, that requires intense concentration and little thought. It’s soothing how the world can always be broken down into patterns and rhythms, into familiar, repetitive motions.

When they’re done, Li stares at her own finger like a stranger.

“Open and close your hand,” Mhin instructs, and she does. The finger moves normally, and they nod.

“Mhin,” Li says, slowly, absently.

“What is it?” they snap, and she only blinks owlishly. Before, she would have shrugged off their complaints as easily as one does water, with a blindly bright and foolish smile. She might have even called them cute.

Li had never been one for quick thinking outside of a fight, but now, her mind seems to move slowly, thoughts struggling to break through the murky surfaces of her own brain. She once worked on instinct and intuition, and now all of her animal senses had been deadened to a dullness that made her stumble where she once would have leaped.

It was as much as what Vere had said, when the bastard had swung by their apartment, ears pricking at the “new amusement” Mhin had been so fixated with that it meant no one in Eridia had seen them outside their apartment in weeks. Vere had deigned to chat with his old gossip partner for a few minutes, but with each dull response of Li’s, Vere’s ears flattened against his head, a sharp, displeasurable scowl on his face. Mhin had then considered slotting their dagger right against his heart when Vere suggested that they should throw away toys that no longer worked.

Li watched them with blank eyes the entire exchange, in the same way she watches them now. There’s a veil fluttering across her gaze, and if they only knew the right words, the right actions, they could finally reach past it to grasp her hand.

“Your face…” she says, and cups their cheeks with her cool palms. They’re still kneeling in front of her, and she gazes down at them, like a blessing.

“What about it?” They lean into her touch, into the smooth skin of death.

“You look…” she frowns. “Sad.” Her words are uncertain.

“I’m not.”

“Okay,” she says.

But for a moment more, they can’t move, can’t pull away from her hands, which have always captivated them. “Li, do you remember what we talked about?” Mhin asks curtly.

She tilts her head. “Which conversation?”

They bring their hands to cover hers, trapping her touch in place. “About what we are.”

She nods, and like a pupil reciting a lesson, states, “That we’re always going to be together, no matter what.”

“Right. Just be sure to keep that in mind,” they say. “That’s the one thing you can’t forget.”

“Okay.”

They close their eyes. “You’re here now,” they repeat. “You’re here. You’re right here.”

“I’m here,” she repeats.

Learned behaviors are just as necessary as innate behaviors. And love is also something that could be learned again, as many times as needed. As long as they kept their hands on hers, then they could believe that the chill of her winter had finally melted away to spring again.

#liya writes #liya’s ocs #touchstarved #mhin #mhin x oc #mhin x mc #touchstarved fanfic #sorry idk how to tag these things when its not x reader lmfaooooo #anyways i actually have like. an insane amount of lore for li hiding in my drafts this is just the tip of the iceberg #i just think its cute to pair mhin w someone who is so oblivious self confident and selfish she just pushes past all their walls

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winnie-the-monster · 3 months

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#and that was just the tip of the iceberg. it only gets worse from there #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo disney+#pjo tv spoilers #pjo spoilers #pjo tv series #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #ares #pjo ares

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one-piece-aus · 1 year

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I am a hoe for Katakuri, so if you write for him, could I have Kata rescuing an s/o who'd been captured by another pirate crew? 😁

Oh boy is this long overdue. Ahoy Doe, I finally finished this request! I hope you don't mind me using the scenario for Whumptober, and please enjoy the story ^-^

Whumptober Day 28

Katakuri x Reader

"What do you mean [Y/n]'s gone?"

The guards paled as a heavy aura from Katakuri engulfed them. They haven't even had the chance to inform him about the situation, yet his fury is emitting and leaving the servants terrified under his gaze. His brows narrowed when he received no response, he reached down and picked up one of the servants.

"Who took [Y/n]?" Katakuri inquired, his voice hinting at his intention of seeking vengeance. However, he never let the servant speak and dropped him when he got his answer. "Gather a fleet, I'm going to save [Y/n], and we're going to erase those pirates."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You kept your glare on the pirates outside your cage, wishing you could burn holes through their skulls. They were snickering amongst themselves over a game of cards, telling themselves what a good idea it was to take you hostage for ransom. They really don't know the forces they were messing with, do they? You weren't able to point out their mistake yet when one of their men open the cabin's door.

"Captain, there's a small ship in the distance," he reported as he held the door wide open.

"Seems like your buyers are here," the captain smirked at you.

"You're fools if you think Big Mom would pay you your demands," you stated. The man laughed in response, only stopping when he looked back at your glaring eyes.

"That's what you believe," he grinned crouching down in front of your cage. "But we're going to be the ones rolling in gold."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Uh captain," the lookout nervously called down to the deck.

"What is it now?" The man questioned with annoyance growling in his tone.

"It's a fleet of ships- a fleet of ships from Big Mom!" The subordinate warned, pointing toward the rear of the ship.

The captain dropped the heavy sack he carried and dashed to the back of the ship. Sure enough, the massive fleet was tailing them, and the small ship had already left. He growled and gripped the rail as his gaze landed on the sweet general leading the army, Katakuri.

Having the enemy in sight, Katakuri turned his head to address the crew. "Don't fire cannons just yet, I want [Y/n] safe in my possession first. Kill the enemies who resist and hold the others hostage, wait for my order to eliminate them," Katakuri instructed, receiving salutes in response. Looking back at the tiny vessel, he gripped his fist. "Just hang in there, [Y/n]. I'll make them pay!'

Ringing his arm behind his head, Katakuri threw the first attack, extending his mochi arm and taking out the enemy's mast. They slowed down while their sails sunk to the bottom of the ocean, letting the fleet surround them and board. The events turned into a massacre rather than a fight as the Charlottes painted the deck in blood, Katakuri dealing out the brutal fatalities to each pirate he faced.

Heading down to the cabins, Katakuri tore anything that stood in his way of getting to you. Heads, doors, planks, they were all scattered in his search. Reaching the end of the hall and tearing open the last door, Katakuri found himself in a room full of chests and cages, and in the corner stood the enemy captain, frozen in place. Katakuri's eyes glowed red and he sent a punch at the man, immobilizing him in mochi.

"Where's [Y/n]?" Katakuri demanded the whereabouts.

The captain gave him a smirk and a glow from Katakuri's eyes made him step back. The Charlotte glanced at the empty cage with a torn piece of your sleeve left behind. With widened eyes, he ran out of the room and onto the deck. Going to the front of the ship, trying to find any traces of the small ship, Katakuri could only see his family's ships on the horizon as the unspoken words of the pirate taunted his mind.

"I already sold her off."

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