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turtletaubwrites · 2 months ago

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Numbers Game ~ Chapter 40

One More Chance

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 12.7k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Run Rabbit ~ ALT BLK ERA | Broken (feat. Amy Lee) ~ Seether

Summary: The Hunt is nearing its end, but it's still too early to tell who your favorite is. At least not before that red-haired Hunter claims the final date tonight.

Ch. 39 Recap: Detailed recap is directly below the cut!

Author's Note: This one is big, and not just the wordcount. I hope you enjoy the ride! 🥰

Dark Content Warning: No bracketed scenes, but brace yourself for Uncle Cedrick and some Sylvad family bullshit. And ya know... the feels, as usual 💜

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been there since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

Extra Tags/Warnings:

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! This fic (And This Chapter in Particular!) contains spoilers for current One Piece plotlines!!! Sorry y'all, I've been trying to keep most spoilers small or vague details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Mental Illness, Grief, Hospitals, Doctors, Mental Health Treatment, Toxic Family, Childhood Trauma, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Death of an Unnamed Character, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

Ch. 39 Recap:

Reader had to say goodbye to the man of her dreams on Uncle Cedrick's orders. He claimed that he was being generous, but that Iceburg didn't have anything they couldn't buy.

Crocodile tried to find anything useful in the recordings of his sweet girl at the asylum, but all he saw was that fifteen year old girl breaking, and that doctor praising her for admitting what she was: a monster.

Kat struggled to pretend while her sister had to keep smiling at the villainous Vinsmokes.

Mihawk found purpose again, a feeling he'd forgotten. He kept up his hunt through the seedy underworld, following the trail of greed while he left a trail of blood behind him.

Reader managed to relax and enjoy the second date with Katakuri. That Sweet Commander was too sweet, but Reader still couldn't make any promises.

Shanks felt desperate as his failures kept growing, until he finally hit his mark. He had sworn to become a villain to save Buggy's star, yet he would have preferred violence over the threats he made against Katakuri's little sister.

Reader managed to avoid being alone with Yonji during his second date, at the cost of his soldier's pain while he beat them bloody. She praised him, and managed to pretend during the breakfast the next morning. Neither Kat nor Reiju had joined them for breakfast, and the thought of her sister being happy helped Reader keep up her smile.

Now, the Hunt is nearing its end. The wedding will be in two days, but first Reader must face the final date, and the red-haired traitor that wants to claim her for himself.

One More Chance

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Run, little rabbit. Please, run away.

This island was lush, abundant, a thing of true beauty.

Yet the sight of that wild rabbit hopping through the courtyard made you want to scream. If only you could move, you would run to it, protect it from the hunters and their hungry arrows, their greedy fingers, their gluttonous mouths.

That little bunny never stood a chance.

Uncle Cedrick had already snapped his fingers for his bow, all eyes on him while he aimed for the helpless creature that was stupid and unlucky enough to interrupt him.

Looking away didn’t save you from the little horror. The image of the rabbit’s extravagant death was spread too large across the screens, and your cowardly move to look away only trapped you more.

A hunter’s eyes tore through you, and you choked down stupid hope that you might survive longer than the creature that was bleeding its life away onto the pretty cobblestones while leeches and wolves applauded its dying breaths.

Those soft, brown eyes were arrows, and you knew that you were nothing to that greedy hunter but something to capture, to claim.

You were nothing but a little bunny to him, and tonight it was his turn to win you. To claim you.

His lips curled just slightly, a wicked little smirk that would have made your skin crawl if you hadn’t been holding in every piece of yourself that you could.

The screen behind that red-haired hunter showed a servant lifting that prize into the air, blood staining all that pure, white fur.

You returned Shanks’ smile, hoping that your death would be as quick as that little bunny’s if he was the one that caught you.

Hoping you would feel his blood on your hands first.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The Great Red Haired Shanks was drowning. He couldn’t fucking hear a thing, could hardly breathe unless he could watch the rise and fall of her breath, nearly bolting across the courtyard whenever she’d hold it in for too long.

Her eyes caught his, and cruel hope filled him.

Shanks smiled at that wounded star, aching for tonight.

I just need one more chance.

Y/N’s smile was perfect. So very sweet that the leeches around him began to swoon over the berries they’d bet on him winning the lovely heiress.

Her smile was anything but sweet. That charming pirate had seen behind the mask, catching just a flash of hate shining through every glance she sent his way.

I’m gonna save you, Y/N. I promise.

“Sorry about the mess,” Cedrick bragged while he drew everyone’s attention back to himself and his twisted, little game. “I know you all have been dying to hear from our lovebirds after that delightfully savage tournament last night—”

“My apologies for the interruption…”

Cedrick managed to rein himself in, but Shanks caught that flash of rage in his eyes when the towering hunter cut him off. He didn’t seem to be as good at pretending as Y/N, at least not when someone else was hogging all the attention.

“But of course, Katakuri,” Sylvad bowed his head just a fraction while the hunter kneeled before the little stage he shared with his niece. “You’re well known for your impeccable manners, so I imagine it must be important.”

“It is.”

Shanks didn’t want to watch this. He’d already downed the sparkling wine they’d poured into another carved glass for him this morning, so there was nothing to help him swallow his shame.

He had promised to become a villain for her. It was for her. For Buggy. For Mihawk.

He had to save her.

But that wounded star had stopped breathing again while she waited for that sweet commander to speak.

Was it really for her?

She still wasn’t breathing.

It wasn’t for her, was it? I came here for Buggy. For Mihawk. I came here to soothe my own fucking guilt.

No. I came here to use her again. To get what I want.

Shanks wasn’t good at pretending, unless his own delusions counted. He had truly believed that he was a good man.

What kind of man believes he’s good? Believes he’s better than others because he does what’s right? What he decides is right?

Who the fuck am I to decide what’s right?

Even with waves of self-loathing and guilt crushing his greedy heart, that Emperor of the Sea couldn’t stop.

He just held his own breath until she stopped holding hers.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Of course. Of course, your last hope was kneeling before you. It felt like the cruel twist of a knife that you could tell he wasn’t smiling beneath those feathers. You were a fucking idiot for getting attached, for getting to know this lovely dream too well before it ended.

Katakuri’s deep voice barely reached you, hitting just enough to confirm what you already knew.

It’s over.

“I am so sorry, Y/N,” that voice failed to soothe. “I want to stay with you, to take you with me, but my family needs me now. I must protect them. I’m sorry—”

“I understand,” some alien part of you spoke. Leeches made noises over your sweetness, but you weren’t sweet. You were empty. A doll with nothing inside. “Thank you, Katakuri. I hope your family is safe.”

Those crimson eyes saw you too deep and you needed to scream. The need was so intense, it felt like the screams were tearing you apart. So close to falling to your knees,

Leave. Just leave. Go away. Please!

Family. What a fucking joke.

Fuck. Now you were about to start laughing. This was not good.

Katakuri had moved slightly, but he tilted his head while he studied you. He seemed to pull his hand away before he’d reached for you, and you were grateful when he left without another word.

There were so many words around you now. So many sticky, pointless words, some of them from your own lips.

You were hardly there while you made it through the interview with Yonji, hardly there while you praised that rabid, little puppy dog whose hands pulled you too close. Like you were his favorite chew toy.

A flash of red caught your eye, but you couldn’t look at that other hunter while you praised the one beside you on the stupid, green couch he’d brought with him.

Numbers. Counting. Math. That would help you get through this.

Three minus one is two.

Two minus one is...

One hunter would leave you drugged and strapped to another table, only this time you’d be dissected, violated, forced to birth monsters until you died.

The other hunter made you sick with hate, with disgust. The traitor that broke Buggy’s heart, that used you to steal him away, only to abandon him again. A dangerous man, a monster. Just a fucking leech that couldn’t get what he wanted from your dead father, so now he would hurt anyone in his path to tear it from your flesh.

A hunter claiming his prey, with not a thought for the pain the rabbit must feel while its heart’s blood spilled at his feet.

Either choice meant death.

Pros and cons.

You weren’t naive enough to think that you had a real chance at killing an Emperor of the Sea. Even if you did, you’d be trapped on a ship full of terrifying pirates that he’d threatened to punish you with the first night you met.

Both options were torture, but red grew in your mind. It spread, slow and thick like the blood of the man that was killed just for insulting you.

Shanks had hurt Buggy. He would hurt him again if he got the chance.

I’ll kill him for Buggy. At least I can do something for him before it’s over. If I can kill him, then everything else is fine.

But you couldn’t kill him tonight. Tonight, you would pretend, you’d please the monster, so he’d steal you for himself. Tonight, you would use him to forget the world.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

Red Haired Shanks was always searching. Not for treasure or glory, but for the perfect tavern.

For years, every tavern was fine, filled with bunnies and booze, laughter and ease, but every now and then he’d find what he needed.

“There you are,” Shanks whistled as he raised his mug. “You never know who you’ll run into at a tavern, eh, old friend?”

“We’re not friends, asshole,” Buggy spat, already so flustered and cute when Shanks leaned against his shoulder at the sticky bar top before he leaned away. “We’re enemies.”

“Come on, Bugs, it’s been a couple of years since last time, hasn’t it,” the redhead coaxed. It felt as though the world was falling away, nothing but that lovely clown and the unacceptable space between them. “At least let me buy you a drink. Something sweet?”

He held in his laugh at the way Buggy frowned, the way everything about him was so bright, so vivid. Shanks studied every movement until he saw the shift in those crystal eyes, and he couldn’t help but scrape his bottom lip through his teeth at the feeling of victory it gave him.

“Ugh, fine! But only because you owe me,” the clown sighed, his skin a bit flushed beneath his greasepaint while he downed his drink.

“Lead the way then, old friend,” Shanks purred. His body was tingling when he gestured toward the nearly empty tables in this shitty, wonderful tavern. Finally, the world felt right again.

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰��🌲🌲⏰~~~

“Just follow me, star,” Buggy soothed your panicked breaths. “You know your captain will catch you, don’t you?”

“Yes, Captain, it’s just—oh gods!”

You were too breathless to pout at his smug laughter while you clung to him, the only anchor within reach. Buggy had guided your steps, holding your hands while he floated beside you, but you’d barely moved across the tightrope before slipping off, and into his waiting arms.

“Come on, I’m not about to let my flashy financial advisor go splat,” he teased, and you couldn’t hold in your squeal while he floated you in circles toward the ceiling of one of the many true circus tents in Buggy Town.

“Financial advisor’s usually work at a desk, you know,” you pleaded, closing your eyes against the striped tent that spun around and around, faster and faster. “On the ground!”

“Where’s the fun in that?”

The heat and danger in your clown’s voice sent your thoughts away. No frustration, no fear, just Buggy. Right here, right now.

“My pretty star shouldn’t be stuck on the ground,” he taunted while he floated even higher. “Will you shine up here with me, baby? I won’t let you fall too far.”

“I know, Buggy,” you managed to gasp while he tossed you just enough to shift your position in his arms. He stopped spinning to let you cling to him, wrapping your legs around his waist while you tried not to look down. “I know you’ll save me.”

Those words felt dangerous, but the look in Buggy’s eyes made everything disappear. His slow, crooked smile sent warmth through your body, even while he spun through the air again.

“Of course I will,” your clown yelled a bit too close to your ear, and you giggled before he kissed the sound away. Buggy ate at your lips, desperate for the taste of you. His hunger pulled little moans and whines from your lips while he gripped you tighter around his body.

Still hanging on to him with your arms around his neck, you grinded against the hard length of him, always so fucking needy for you.

“Fuck, baby,” he broke the kiss with a groan. Gloved fingers dug into the meat of your ass, until he wrapped one arm around your back to hold you steady, still bobbing too high above the three rings you kept forgetting were there. Until he tugged the glove from his free hand off with his teeth, letting it fall and fall while his bare fingers teased along your thigh. “My girl’s so fucking good for me. Can I—”

“I need you, Buggy.” You had said that the night you met, that truth growing more with every moment that he stole you from the world. “Please—gods, yes!”

He was still floating, still standing in the air while you clung to him, yet Buggy managed to curl his fingers beneath the costume he’d picked for your tight rope act. He pushed that shiny fabric aside before working himself into you while your eyes watered at his wicked praise, his panicked thrusts, his pretty little noises.

You wondered how he got the leverage to fuck you like this, as though he were standing on solid ground while he held you. Then he hit so fucking deep, using the weight of your body to bounce you onto him, and you were too far gone to wonder anything at all.

All you could do was take him, take every delicious feeling he gave you. Still, as terrifying, and thrilling as fucking so high in the air should have been, you couldn’t fight against the dangerous hope that this feeling was real.

It was stupid. Naïve. You had tried again and again to shove it down, to just enjoy it while you could.

Buggy made you feel both safe and free. It couldn’t be real.

Right now is good.

“Gods, star… You feel perfect,” Buggy moaned through stuttering thrusts. “Come for me. Shine for me, baby. Just. Like. That.”

His name from your lips turned to screams while you came together, floating through space like stars in the sky. He couldn’t seem to stop his own pleasure, forcing his come even deeper inside you as though he could carve his own home within your twitching body.

“You don’t want me to stop, huh, dollface? Want me to—

No more dollface. No more Sylvad smiles.

“Hey, Star, what’s wrong,” your clown panicked when you were frozen by those hopeful thoughts. He cursed softly when he pulled himself out of you before racing down too fast. You shut your eyes against the spinning world, surprised by how many tears spilled when they closed.

Buggy caught every tear that fell, and you smiled at him when you felt him making strides across something thicker than air.

“You okay, baby?” Anxiety rippled off him when he laid you on something soft to look you over. “I’m sorry, did I—”

“I’m okay,” you choked out while you touched his hand that cradled your cheek. Relief moved across his features, but not enough. “Thank you, Captain. I’m just happy to be here with you.”

Your clown paused, and his eyes flashed with anger, with disbelief. You hated that look and all the disgusting people that must have trained that reaction into him.

Then those crystal eyes melted, warmth seeming to fill him to the brim before he squeezed your cheeks.

“Well, I wasn’t about to leave such a flashy girl behind, but if you really feel like thanking your captain, I can think of a few—"

“Buggy!” Laughter spilled from you now, even as you struggled against his grip on your face. Your giggles slowed when he stared at your lips, brushing his thumb across your mouth. The taste of your own tears nearly stopped you, but your sweet, lovely clown kissed you before breathing his next words against your skin.

“I like the smile better.”

The warm tears that fell now were joined by more laughter, and more dangerous hope, while he kissed your true smile again and again.

~~~⏰🌲🌲🌲⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

The dress was pretty.

It felt light and soft against your skin. A comfortable sundress to enjoy a picnic under the stars. Your locket even fit the theme, but you still kept it tucked away when you weren’t fidgeting with it.

Yet, you preferred the other stupid costumes you’d been forced to wear.

“That red looks lovely on you, sweetie,” your mother gave a flawless smile. She leaned against the vanity to beam at you while her stylists finished your hair. While you tried not to bite them.

At least it wasn’t your mom dolling you up today.

Closing your eyes against your mother’s perfect smile, you fought to shove out the image of a broken doll in a red dress.

The trill of a transponder snail tore a gasp from you, and the voice that followed was worse.

“Delaine, be a dear and bring your daughter to my office. I need to check in on our little bride before the final date.”

“Of course, Cedrick,” your mother purred while she gestured for the servants to finish up. “We’ll be right there.”

Delaine Sylvad kept her smile while she led you to him. She gave you to your uncle once again, and she hummed when he brushed his lips against her cheek before she obeyed his order to leave you alone with him.

Your mother left you without a second glance.

“My, my, Y/N, what a sight you are,” Uncle Cedrick praised. His eyes raked over you as though admiring a prize horse before gesturing toward the beautifully carved, but uncomfortable seat across the desk from his own cushioned chair. “Take a seat, niece. We need to have a little chat.”

Emptiness flooded your mind slowly, fog rolling in until the world felt dull.

Good.

“Enough of that,” he snapped his fingers in front of your face, cutting off your escape. “The Hunt is almost over, niece. I need to know who your favorite is.”

“It’s too early to tell,” you recited. His smug little smirk only proved that your instincts were right.

“Not to worry. I believe I can help with your decision,” your uncle laughed, so at ease.

Uncle Cedrick toyed with a decorative arrow that he’d displayed on his massive desk, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off it while he started tapping the side of it against his palm, gesturing with it while he spoke.

“It really is your choice, Y/N,” he taunted, twirling the arrow a bit before pointing it at you over the desk. Aiming straight for your heart. “Do you remember what your choices were before the Hunt? Did you figure out the pros and cons?”

Nothing matters.

“I can be well.” You only clenched your jaw a bit. “Or I can be unwell. And I want to be well, Uncle.”

“That is all I want, you know,” your uncle lied, his voice dipping low. It might have sounded gentle if you didn’t know what he was. “I only want what’s best for you, and for our family. That’s why I am excited to tell you about a little extra deal I made.”

He wiggled the tip of the arrow in front of your eyes, grinning as though it was all a game. You managed not to flinch, but your eyes closed against your will for a moment to fight against the dizziness the movement had caused. His smile had deepened after your show of weakness.

It is a game. His game.

“Aren’t you going to ask about the deal?”

“What’s your extra deal, Uncle,” you drowned in impotent rage.

He sat back with a laugh, bringing his pristine shoes up to rest on the corner of the desk. You were suddenly aware of the tension in your own body, your legs shaking slightly beneath that red fabric.

You shook more when he ordered the servants and guards from the room before pulling a small snail from his desk. He patted the creature, his fingers grazing the horned shell until its eyes flashed red.

“Well, I might be getting ahead of myself,” Uncle Cedrick tilted his head back and forth while he twirled the arrow in lazy circles. “Tomorrow your Hunters and I will discuss the arrangements. If they don’t agree, then they are out, but if all goes well…”

“Fuck.”

“Do pay attention, dear. You have a date with an Emperor to get to, so I’d hate if I had to repeat myself.”

An apology forced its way through your lips while you watched him sweep all that splintered wood onto the floor. Your uncle caught you slipping away again, so he’d broken that arrow over his desk, startling you back to whatever fresh torment he had in store for you.

“You have your choices,” he started, and his handsome features were finally starting to warp, a hint of the monster that only you could see. No one else saw what he was, or they were just too greedy or scared to admit it. “Now that you’re well, you will fulfill your duties as a Sylvad and marry a suitable match. You get to choose between an Emperor of the Sea, or a Prince of the Germa Kingdom. Such a spoiled, little bride.”

“Yes, Uncle.” Your voice was sweet, and you almost laughed at how skilled you’d become. It would never be enough. “Shouldn’t I be leaving for my date soon?”

“You’re quite right, dear niece,” your uncle agreed. He lowered his legs from the desk, brushing a few splinters from his slacks before smiling at you again. “Vinsmoke Judge and his partner have some riveting plans for their new research institute. I was considering sending an offer to fund some of their ventures after the Hunt, but they proposed a deal that I just couldn’t refuse.”

You couldn’t count your breaths. There weren’t any while he left you waiting again.

“If you choose to marry the Emperor, then one of the Princes will marry Kathryn instead,” Uncle Cedrick announced, cheerful while you struggled to understand. “Such a fine match, and after all these years of waiting for her selfish sister to stop holding her back…”

“No.”

“Yes,” he mocked your desperate tone.

You were awake now, no drifting away, no escape. Just fear and denial flooding your veins.

“They’ll use her, Uncle. Those princes were born without feelings. They’re vicious!” The monster before you looked pleased while you fought to steady your voice. “You can’t give her to them. You won’t.”

“I can and I will,” Uncle Cedrick seethed, eyes wide with fury as he slammed his fist onto his pretty desk. Just for a moment, he let you see how he truly felt when something in the world dared to displease him.

His show of hatred stilled your breath, but that snarl was followed quickly by his charming, Sylvad smile.

I liked the snarl better.

You had to bite and chew the inside of your lips, sick laughter nearly ruining you again. Your uncle pressed his finger to your lips now, shutting you up.

“Please, mind the hysterics before your date,” he scolded, removing his hand from your skin to pet the horned snail again. Its slow eyes drooped, that red fading out while he studied your face.

Looking for signs of weakness.

His fingers drummed against the gleaming wood of his desk; your eyes caught on the movement. He kept that abhorrent rhythm going until you wanted to claw at him. Finally, he traced those fingers down the side of his desk until he winked in time with a sound like a snap, like something clicking into place. The painting on the wall beside you moved, the little cedar trees opening a window to another room.

An enclosure.

Uncle Cedrick hummed a cheerful tune while he leaned through the window to pet the massive projector snail. Always so many fucking snails. He guided it to aim toward the opposite wall until its eyes cast something you knew you didn’t want to see.

The selfish urge not to look was shattered when you heard her.

“Let me see my sister,” Kat demanded, the words icy with rage. She gritted her teeth, flinching away from the hand that dared to reach for her face.

Your sister wasn’t restrained. She didn’t look hurt.

Kat was sitting between two monsters on a pretty, green couch.

“Don’t worry so much, princess,” Niji purred, thankfully pulling away from her.

“Yeah, the last date is starting soon,” Ichiji soothed, unable to hold in a satisfied laugh. “We can watch your sister all night.”

They weren’t touching her right now, but you were already running toward the door when he cut the feed.

“That’s enough,” your uncle sighed while you struggled with every door out of the massive office. He’d locked you in a cage with him. “You know very well that I am not bluffing. Now, do you understand your choices, or do we need to— “

“You can’t hurt her,” you declared, willing yourself to wake up from this nightmare.

No. No. Not real. Not her.

He just smiled, gently stroking the horned snail until its red eyes glared at you.

“They’re gonna breed her! Torture her! She could die!” There was no change in that charming face. “Please don’t let them hurt her, Uncle. Please, she’s your daughter!”

Words that you’d never spoken hung in the air, and your ears rang with aching silence as though your body had tried to pull them back into you.

If only that ringing silence could have stayed to spare you from his sadistic laughter. He was still cracking up while he relaxed back into his seat, gesturing for you to join him.

“My little smarty. Did you think that was a secret,” Uncle Cedrick mocked while he caught his breath. He dabbed the moisture from his eyes as you slumped into that uncomfortable seat across from him. “I must admit, your mother and I were sloppy at best when it came to hiding our transgressions. Only a fool like my brother could have missed something so glaringly obvious.”

Uncle would have dragged you back anyway, but you fought to stay present. Only your nails on your thighs through that thin, red fabric kept you here.

she needs me

“I’m disappointed in you though, Y/N. I thought you were smart enough to keep your mouth shut.”

“but...”

“But what,” he scoffed as he leaned over the desk to pinch your cheek. You were too lost to even flinch.

“you won’t hurt her you won’t let them—”

There was no fighting it. Your body was starting to carry the inevitable future for you, although your mind was still small. Parts of you had run away, but he didn’t bother to chase them down.

“My daughter has the opportunity to elevate the Sylvad line.”

His voice wasn’t loud, but you winced at the force of it. He leaned back, his pretty shoes on the desk again, but you couldn’t let your eyes wander there. If you looked away from his gratified gaze you would disappear.

You had to stay.

“Finally, I can bring our family the respect, the honor we deserve.”

Uncle Cedrick’s mask fell just enough to show that monstrous hunger. That greed. What do you get for the man that has everything? What more could he possibly be hungry for?

It felt like it had always been you. Your pain, your humiliation, your supplication.

But your suffering was just the bonus prize.

“Arbo never cared about leaving a mark on the world,” your uncle spat now, his revulsion growing with every word. “No ambition. No pride. He rejected every opportunity to lift our family name above the merchant class. No, my idiot brother just wanted to spoil his selfish, little numbers girl.”

“stop”

He would never stop. He kept going, even as your body started rocking back and forth, breaths going heavy and wrong.

“Your daddy was always weak-willed. Pathetic.” Uncle laughed at the tiny sob that escaped your lips, even while you chewed on your flesh to keep them shut. “Arbo’s obsession with you held us all back, Y/N. It even got him killed. That sentimental fool couldn’t even wait a fucking week to fetch his ungrateful brat a toy boat—"

“please”

Broken doll.

Broken sobs tore through you now, and you curled in on yourself. Breathing hurt, you couldn’t see, couldn’t hear over the horrible, broken noises.

nothing now nothing now nothing—

“Stop crying.”

Dolls should be quiet and still, so that’s what you were. Just a doll when he knelt beside you. Not real when he touched your face, sneering at the pathetic tears on your skin.

Uncle Cedrick held his broken doll by the chin, but his words couldn’t hurt something that wasn’t real.

not real

can’t feel

“The choice is yours, dear niece,” came a voice that meant nothing. “Marry a Vinsmoke, or your sister will take your place. If you don’t want the pirate then you know what your options are, but Kathryn will wed one of those princes if you don’t.”

One more burning tear stained your cheek while his fingers pressed just a bit more into your skin, still careful not to tarnish his little doll. Your uncle never needed to use his hands to hurt you. He’d broken you just fine with his words.

Now he had trapped you into this reality, this world that he owned, because you couldn’t let yourself slip into nothingness. You couldn’t be that selfish again.

“I’ll marry Yonji,” you spoke with a voice like your mother’s, “but only if they let Kat go. They can’t touch her.”

Uncle Cedrick patted you on the head when he stood, and you counted your breaths while he picked up his transponder snail from its decorative table. He sat in his comfortable chair, placing the snail he’d dressed to match his own image beside the horned snail that was beginning to slump while its eyes still flashed red.

“Kat will be staying with her future brothers in law until your vows have been sealed,” he declared, the threat sending fresh terror to rip through your heart.

He stroked the horned snail again to let it rest. His fleeting mercy was given only to the toys that bent to his will.

“Don’t fret though, niece. I won’t let my daughter become anyone’s mistress, not even a prince. She’ll never be a cheap whore like your mother. Speaking of,” your uncle trailed off before making a call, your mother’s, ‘hello, Cedrick,’ floating from the snail’s sticky lips. “Delaine, dear, please come tend to your daughter. She could use some freshening up before the big night, and we can’t have her running late.”

You stayed here. Distant, but not empty. Suffocating with a gentle smile while your mother dolled you up.

“Don’t forget the rules of the Hunt, dear niece,” Uncle Cedrick reminded you as he guided you to the courtyard. “Our guests are here to have fun, so be sure to show the Emperor a good time. Can you do that, smarty.”

“Yes, Uncle.”

~~~🌲~~~

There were no stars out yet, but you stared into the golden sky all the same. Your pretty dress and the picnic blanket beneath you did nothing to keep the gentle breeze from sending shivers over your skin.

The theme of this date was crueler than your uncle could have known, but it was your own fault for choosing it from the list. Another opportunity to torture yourself, and now you wallowed in it.

Stargazing.

Waves and waves of grief poured through you while that darkening sky revealed each star like a mirage. Hope had done nothing but torment you, yet you couldn’t wish it away.

You had felt true love before meeting your fate. If your sister was safe, then everything was worth it.

Bargaining with the stars above while distant eyes enjoyed the show was a balancing act. It took all your strength to keep your pitiful cries inside. No matter how many times you tried to push it down, your mind went back. Back to that strange, little island you’d almost called home.

The steadiness you held impressed even you. It almost pushed you into laughter, until guilt finally won out over grief.

Buggy had given you so much. All you’d given him were lies and betrayal. You had abandoned him just like all the rest, and now you couldn’t even die for him. You couldn’t kill the monster that hurt him.

You couldn’t stop your disgusting desire to betray him again.

Pretty, shining stars were dancing above you now, yet you kept your relaxed position, not even digging your nails into your palms. Those stars dug into you instead. They pierced through your sick heart while you tried to soothe your own guilt, and you clung to that beautiful locket while you gave yourself permission to hate yourself even more.

Pretend. That was all. Just one more night to pretend.

One more night to forget the world, even if it meant letting that traitor use you again, for no other reason than to numb your own pain.

Selfish. I never deserved you, Buggy. I wish I could kill him for you, but I… I wish—

A shooting star cleared your mind for one, shining moment.

Why is it so dark?

“Hey there, little bunny. Sorry about the wait,” said a domineering pirate that knocked over the basket of food when he walked across the picnic blanket.

The leeches were loving the chaos, and the growing chill in the air made you aware of how long you must have been lying there. That Emperor of the Sea was late, and he’d left you for the vultures to pick at, squawking with pleasure while you’d been fighting not to cry.

He was still late.

“The chief didn’t feel like stargazing, so we set up his tent for your date instead. Hope you don’t mind.”

That tall gruff man offered his hand, and you were too foggy to resist. A few strands of his long gray hair fell over his eyes while he got you to your feet, but he only shook them aside. He kept his warm hands on you, smirking when he caught your eyes widening at the impressive flex of muscles across his arms and chest.

“The name’s Benn,” he shared with too much heat in his voice. That name spiked your heart rate, even more now as he lifted your chin to meet his gaze, pulling you against him.

Leeches were louder, but there were more voices close by that you couldn’t make sense of yet.

“Don’t be scared,” Benn scolded when you tried to step away. “The crew’s only here to make sure your date doesn’t get interrupted.”

“Yeah, the Captain’s got big plans for you,” shouted a deep voice from behind you. It was too close, and more taunting hollers and whistles followed.

Somehow, humiliation broke through your guilt and grief, and you gave another useless attempt to get out of this man’s reach.

“What do you mean,” you growled, too much rage in your voice.

“That’s a question for Shanks, bunny girl. I’m just the delivery man,” Benn shrugged, his eyes still heavy on your skin. Then the overwhelming pirate threw you over his shoulder and ran, to riotous applause and laughter. The Red Hair Pirates flanked you, teasing and taunting along the way.

Benn moved so fast that you almost missed it while you struggled in his arms. He’d placed one of those muscular hands on your ass, smoothing down the thin, red fabric of the sundress while he charged on. The image of his groping touch was blown up across the screens for all the guests to revel in. They gorged on your humiliation, still cheering and jeering so loudly you could hear them through the forest he’d carried you into.

Maybe I can kill him tonight.

That vengeful thought was doused quickly by the memory of your waiting sister, so you had to swallow it down. Remember your place.

This world belonged to greedy, monstrous men like your uncle, and like this Emperor that had ordered for you to be delivered to him like a meal. The Hunter and the prey whose blood would stain his hands while he feasted on its flesh.

Might as well close your eyes and try to enjoy it. You knew what this hunter could do, and the threat of danger reminded you of how sick you were.

Breaking out of the tree line again, you recognized this rolling set of hills, even though you could only see behind your captor while you bounced over his shoulder.

So many scrapes, bruises, and grass stains had followed you and your sister home from the spot you’d named, “Upside Down Hill.” The two of you would roll down the slope again and again into the basin-like stretch of grass until it was filled with laughter and squeals. It was surrounded by hills, just more piles of dirt, but that dip in the world had always felt a bit special. Magical.

That had to be where you were headed when Benn’s steps tilted down, as though you were descending into the earth itself.

You weren’t.

You were carried like a sack of potatoes through the thick flaps of a tent, the scent of the traitor filling that warm space.

“Package for you, chief,” Benn grunted as he tossed you onto a bed in the center of the large, captain’s tent. If you weren’t too busy catching your breath and trying not to flash him while you sat up, you would have bitten the fingers he ruffled through your hair. “Ooh, look at that fire. You didn’t tell me you caught a bratty, little bunny.”

“Out,” Shanks ordered, and the power behind that single, quiet demand made you freeze like prey, yet again. Your anger meant nothing against such a beast. “Make sure no one’s within earshot. Bunny and I need some privacy tonight.”

“Aye, chief,” Benn submitted as he turned to leave, his job complete. That older, powerful pirate nodded in deference toward the hunter that held your gaze.

Shanks’ eyes weren’t soft. He stared at your heaving chest while he lounged on a pretty, red chair; your body was still frozen except for the desperate breaths that pounded through you. Every instinct told you to run.

Run away.

There was no point in running anymore. Just let the beast devour you one more time. Just stop thinking, just feel something before you married a fate worse than death.

He kept you waiting in silence long enough that you broke loose, aching to feel anything but this. You crawled across the bed toward him, ready to beg. Shanks went to his knees, and you nearly wept with need, but he avoided your greedy hands to pull a small box from under the bed.

“You kept me waiting out in the cold quite a while, Emperor,” you purred, pushing that red fabric higher up your thighs while your fingers traced along the skin. His eyes were frightening now, but you didn’t care. Nothing mattered. “I thought you were going to keep me warm.”

Shanks clenched his jaw as he looked down at the box, setting its contents onto the red chair while he slumped onto the worn rug beside it.

Confusion and terror filled you in equal measure while the traitor patted the little, horned snail.

A jamming snail.

What more was this monster planning to do to you that he’d need this much privacy? Surely, he’d save any real punishments for after he owned you. The presence of his crew in the surrounding hills made your mouth dry, but the memory of his manic eyes while he’d played with you didn’t fit with whatever was on his face now.

“Shanks,” you muttered helplessly while the snail’s eyes turned red.

The Hunter crawled to you, sitting on the floor at your feet while he took your hand in his.

“Stop.” The plea was useless when it left your lips. You didn’t know where it came from, only that those brown eyes looked soft again. Too soft.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” the leech lied too fucking well. “I’m sorry for everything. Please, believe me. I came here to bring you back to Buggy. He’s waiting for his star.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

“Fuck you!”

“Bunny, I…” Shanks was pathetic again, useless against this woman’s rage. Y/N had ripped her hand from his grasp to crawl off the bed until it was between them while she paced. She kept glancing at him and forcing her eyes away, as though the sight of him made her sick.

Maybe it did.

“Really,” she spat, near manic while her hands clawed into the air as she spoke. “Winning isn’t enough for ‘The Great Red Haired Shanks?’ You have to fucking torture me too?”

“It’s the truth, bunny—Y/N,” Shanks nearly whimpered as he crawled around the bed, careful not to spook her as he drew closer. He had to keep crawling while she tried to keep the bed between them, disgust in every frantic movement. “I promise, if you marry me, I’ll take you home to Buggy. Home to the Cross Guild. I’ll do anything, please, believe me!”

That wasn’t… I didn’t.

There was no way that his last, desperate words had been a command. He could never do that to an innocent. Never to someone he cared about, someone so sweet.

The Emperor of the Sea was choking now, the air in that little tent burning into an anger so vicious that he winced, almost shielding his face from the blast of it.

How can she carry all this inside her, he wondered, cowering yet again.

“Believe you,” Y/N mocked while waves of cruelty suffocated him. “Even if I believed you, I know what you are.”

She’d seen through him from the start.

“You think I’d think better of you for using me to get to Buggy,” Y/N challenged, gritting her teeth while she leaned over his slumped form. “I think I’d prefer it if you used me for berry, or to destroy a Jewel Tree for your magic fucking boat. Knowing you, you’ll try to do it all, won’t you? The Emperor wants EVERYTHING!”

Buggy’s star was shining with white, hot rage, stunning the greedy Emperor at her feet. She was so good at hiding, so very good at pretending. Yet, Shanks was awestruck at the sheer weight of hatred she could hide inside that precious body.

“Out,” Shanks ordered again, feeling his first mate’s concern before the man stepped too far into this storm of murderous wrath.

“Chief,” Benn checked in through the flap of the tent. Y/N’s eyes went wide with fear and fury at the sound of his voice before turning that malicious gaze back onto the trash at her feet.

“Get out,” Shanks commanded, the flavor of domination too familiar. Too easy.

He held his breath to brace for her fear, but Y/N just slumped onto the bed, her body loose while her head lolled to the side to meet his gaze. The tent was still thick with her emotions, but they seemed to slow. Less heat, but a feeling of sickness grew, nausea pouring through him.

The sight of exhausted tears in her eyes made him unable to tell which one of them those feelings belonged to.

“Why don’t you get out, Shanks? I know you don’t want me. I’m just in the way.”

“Shh, bunny. Don’t say that, please.” He almost touched her hand again, catching himself before another wave crashed down.

A wave of madness, of cruel laughter that ripped his worthless heart to shreds. She writhed on the bed, mocking and taunting, spitting words like acid to sear his flesh until nothing but bones and burning truths remained.

“You want me to be quiet so you can pretend I’m not there? You can fetch Buggy his star and sail away together on your magic boat. I’ll just sit in the corner so you can have everything you fucking want.”

“No, please—”

Shanks couldn’t think. It felt as though he’d lived too long without shame, and now an ocean of it was being forced down his throat.

He couldn’t breathe while that wounded star sneered at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare tell me, ‘no.’ I watched you. You took him from me, even when we were—I know I had no right to feel that way after everything but…” Y/N pulled him close, dragging him by the collar of his cloak while her voice cracked with pain. So sharp and jagged, Shanks could feel it in his own body, deeper than all the rest.

He’d caused so much pain.

“You made Buggy forget about me,” she sobbed, anger still present in the air like a weapon within reach. “You pretended I didn’t exist, but I forgave you. I told you to fucking take him, Shanks! You promised me!”

“Y/N—hey? Bunny,” Shanks panicked. The air around them had gone calm, everything soft and heavy when the woman before him went limp. He reached for her pulse, dreading that it would be as still as the air she’d been dominating a moment before.

Maybe she passed out? She couldn’t hide all that energy so quickly, couldn’t—

His fingers found that miraculous pulse on her neck, drumming slower and slower, until his own spiked at the touch of her hand on his. Y/N sat up straight as she held onto him. She stayed so calm while she begged.

“I can’t go with you, Shanks. I told you already, remember?” She made him dizzy, trying to remember something vital, but he couldn’t look away from her. “You promised that you would take Buggy and make him happy, but you lied! You promised me that you’d love him with everything in you.”

Buggy.

Shanks shook himself, but it was too late to save those words. Words he’d always meant to say to his oldest friend but never found the right time.

I don’t deserve it anyway.

He pulled back enough that she was pulled forward slightly, refusing to free his cloak from her shaking hands. Her eyes were wide and unblinking as though she was trying to keep her tears at bay, but their failures had already stained her cheeks.

“You promised. So, leave,” Y/N demanded. “I want to stay. Please, make him happy.”

“Bunny,” he gasped while he reached for his last chance, fumbling with it as though he wasn’t the ‘Great Red Haired Shanks.’ Finally pulling it free, he held the key between them and almost huffed a laugh at the adorable look of confusion on her face.

This whirlwind of a woman had overwhelmed him so thoroughly that he’d nearly forgotten the little key in his pocket. This key that he might have worn down into nothing if he held onto it another night, the tiny bit of metal like a worry stone to soothe his wretched soul.

Y/N was still staring at it, brows furrowed until he cleared his throat.

“That’s a pretty necklace you’ve got there, bunny,” Shanks breathed, a little freer now that Buggy’s locket had spilled from that red dress. He was feeling too much hope, but he was too damn selfish to fight it. “Whoever gave it to you must have good taste.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

Somehow, no matter what corner of the world they’d passed out in, the air always tasted sweet when he woke with Buggy in his arms. Shanks had never been a morning person, yet his body seemed to crave that feeling as much as his heart did.

His body seemed to grieve the loss of it, a split second of fear before he melted into the pleasure of feeling his lover beside him.

“Mornin,’ Bugs,” he teased, trailing his breath along Buggy’s shoulder while his little morning whines got louder.

“Shanks…”

His eyes rolled back at that perfect sound. He needed to make it louder, needed to hear it again and again. Shanks held himself back, though he was nearly drunk on Buggy’s sleepy moans.

He had to savor this.

Buggy wasn’t ready to come back yet, but the future Shanks held in his mind made every goodbye all the sweeter. He didn’t want to dwell on the absence when he could look forward to every chance encounter. Especially when each time they parted brought them closer to that lovely future.

He didn’t see any other future ahead, except for the days he drank his doubts away.

Buggy would join him in the end.

“Of course you will,” Shanks almost commanded as he whispered along Buggy’s ear.

“I will—what? Ah, shit,” Buggy squirmed away when he caught eyes with his lover, though he didn’t squirm very far. “You’re still here? You’d better pitch in for this room since you—Fuck. Idiot…”

“That’s no way to greet a guest,” the red-haired pirate teased, his hand curled around Buggy’s body until he found his clown waiting and ready. Until Buggy started moaning again and the rest of the world, the rest of time, disappeared.

“You’re more of a PEST than a guest,” the clown complained before Shanks gripped his balls, tugging slightly until Buggy relaxed against him. “Asshole.”

“Is that an invitation,” Shanks chuckled. He left kisses now while he pressed his cock against the squirming, grumbling clown. “Missed me, didn’t you, Bugs?”

“Shut up and fuck me already,” Buggy ordered, though his voice was breathy while he fetched the lube with a floating hand. Now he was squirming so well, lifting his thigh to let Shanks in. The red-haired lover played and praised, fingers reaching and stretching before he claimed his clown.

Perfect.

“Knew ya missed me, baby,” Shanks growled, triumph coursing through his veins when his body found Buggy’s again. Still lying on their sides, his hand reached around to grasp that swollen length while his own, brutal cock made all those pretty whines return. “You’re so good for me, Bugs.”

“Fuck, please,” Buggy whined when Shanks stopped stroking him. He gave out the cutest, little yelp when Shanks nipped at his neck, still pounding into him when he replied.

“Please what, baby? Missing my touch already?”

Buggy turned to look at him over his shoulder, those beautiful eyes so desperate while he frowned.

Shanks snatched that blue hair, and Buggy disconnected his head from his neck to turn into that hungry kiss. He was rewarded with that greedy hand back on his leaking dick, but Shanks bit the clown’s lip to keep him from ending that delicious kiss.

The red-haired pirate drank in those precious noises now. They kept going while Buggy twitched and came in his hand. Such perfect noises while Shanks filled him up, so fucking high while he shoved himself deeper and deeper. Only the urgent need to breathe could have broken that kiss.

His clown stayed for a bit. Shanks ached to keep him now, but he took what he could get. Buggy stayed in his arms long enough to catch his breath before he was bickering again.

Shanks smiled at Buggy’s frown, even while he floated away.

It wouldn’t be the last time.

~~~⏰🔴🔴🔴⏰~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

A key.

A missing key.

The onslaught of emotions you’d just drowned in seemed like nothing compared to the sickening mix of horror and hope that little key had sparked.

“No.”

Shanks looked pained at your cowardly word, but he didn’t reply, and he didn’t move.

The key was just there, and you wished you didn’t have to know.

A laugh, twisted and terrible, left your lips when you reached for it; your shaky hand was smeared with makeup and tears, and the thought of your pathetic cries was too much.

This was too much.

“I can help—”

“DON’T TOUCH ME,” you screamed, batting that greedy hand away while yours fumbled with that warm lump of metal. That chain of guilt and brightness slipped easily from your neck, yet the loss of its weight was heavy, pulling you deeper into the quiet earth beneath you.

It’s just a picture. I’ll get to see his face one last time. That’s good.

You hadn’t looked at it in a while, and the pressure of more stupid tears burned your throat as you traced your fingers over the pretty pictures. That ship and its shining star. That six and its spade. That keyhole and it's no longer missing key.

The locket fell with its key, just a lump of metal on the bed while you held onto the true source of that warmth. You cradled an ear in your hands and somehow the raging storm of emotions within you went still.

It wasn’t the sick stillness of escape. This stillness was quiet and warm. Soft and secret.

It made you forget the world.

It was just you, and Buggy, and his ear that had gone pink like it always did when he got flustered, when you praised him, and kissed him.

For just a moment, you were free. The vision was so clear that you laughed with gratitude. The most precious daydream played out in that one glorious moment, and it made everything alright.

Everything had been worth it.

“Thank you for saving me, Buggy,” you breathed over his skin. “But I need you to stop. I need you to let me go.”

“Bunny, wait,” cried the red-haired hunter when you placed that lovely ear in his hand. “Please, tell me what you need. I’ll do anything.”

There was no mirror in the tent that you could see, so you did what you could to clean the mess of makeup and tears from your face. Shanks followed you while you searched, while you stretched your body that felt so perfectly light without that chain.

Everything was fine now.

There was just one last thing…

“Please, love him,” you smiled up at the Emperor while you cradled his cheek. “You owe me, Shanks.”

Bells. Distant, but drifting through the hills. Soon you would leave this magical tent, this dip in the world.

Better to end it now before the pain hit again.

“Let me go, Shanks,” you sighed, still giving a true smile when he blocked your path to the exit. “I want to—”

“I’ll kill him for you,” the monster vowed, those soft eyes gone hard as steel. His voice clawed through your stillness, until fear filled your veins. It started slow like poison, drifting up from the floor until you were nearly paralyzed beneath his looming form. “Let me end it right now, bunny. All these leeches deserve it, don’t they? Cedrick deserves—”

“Don’t you dare hurt him!”

Too much fear and rage slammed through you, so you couldn’t even laugh at the dumbfounded look on his face.

The bells were closer.

“Same goes for you, Buggy,” you let out a hiss, regretting that your last words couldn’t be sweet. “Tell Crocodile and Mihawk, too. If any of you hurt my family in any way, I will never forgive you, or myself. I will hate you all with everything in me.”

“But…” Shanks tried, but his mouth hung slack, his shoulders slumped while he still stood in your way.

“No buts, Emperor,” you mocked. Your precious moment was gone now, replaced by anger and disgust in the only weapon you had. You were disgusting, but it would all be worth it. “If you hurt any member of my family, I will kill myself. You’d have to keep me in a fucking cage, but I’d still find a way. Now, let me go.”

The Hunter didn’t move, but he didn’t stop you from going around him.

The night air was cool and sweet, but the fluffy robe wrapped around you like burning chains. You closed your eyes until you were shut away, not wanting to gaze at the sky again.

You’d seen just a piece of your true love tonight, and no other shining stars could compare.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

She was gone.

Red Haired Shanks stared into the space she’d left for what felt like decades, frozen in shame and disbelief, until glinting red caught his eyes.

“Wait, Bugs! I…”

The jamming snail’s glowing eyes drooped, slowing until the creature slumped within its horned shell. It looked nearly as sick as the failed hunter felt.

Shanks collapsed onto the bed, resisting the twisted urge to kiss Buggy’s ear, to take comfort, to take and take like he always did.

He’d failed them all. He couldn’t do anything.

And now he’d wasted his chance to apologize, not willing to risk the slim chance that he could still do any fucking thing to help.

He returned Buggy’s ear to that locket. It was a new, lovely worry stone for him to use.

I’m no hero. Just an asshole.

Sick laughter surprised that Emperor of the Sea when it spilled from his lips, the memory so bittersweet as it flooded his mind.

Y/N’s first accusation.

It hadn’t been that cursed island; it was that sweet, sick girl. She had held up this mirror, and Shanks could only thank her, pitiful and weak while he cowered beneath his own reflection.

“Too much fun,” Benn asked, that deep voice too soft while he leaned over the bed to look him over.

Every bit of his life felt like a lie.

“Nothing another bottle won’t fix, old man.”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Nothing was real. Waking, breathing, moving, all felt wrong. It was supposed to be over already, yet you still existed in this unfamiliar body.

You still had to function for a few more days and Kat wasn’t there to remind you to eat.

Your mother did the bare minimum, beaming at Shanks while she tasted all the dishes on the breakfast spread to encourage you to act like a normal, pretty doll.

How could you eat when the Emperor of the Sea kept his eyes on you?

The Hunter had almost been late, and he almost smelled like wine, but his voice was soft and villainous, and his gaze was a cruel torture. Temptation and punishment for your weak, selfish wants.

Yet, nothing could have weakened you more than the knowledge that Buggy was listening.

Shanks would keep him close, and any word you spoke would reach him.

How could you eat when you were being flayed alive?

“You must have had quite the date,” Uncle Cedrick quashed what remained of your useless hope. “Seems you wore out the little bride already. Need some coffee, niece?”

There would be no escape, but Kat would be safe, and Buggy would be loved.

That’s good.

Everything else is fine.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Red Haired Shanks had woken early.

Stupid, fucking birds were chirping too fucking close, the sharp sounds piercing through his skull. None of the bottles he’d drunk had fixed a thing.

The pain of the bright, loud morning outside his tent hadn’t woken him; that warm lump of metal in his fist was enough. His clown was there, listening to his failures that piled higher and higher. He could have suffocated beneath the weight, as though this grassy basin was being filled with a mountain of dirt.

He could have laid there until the end, let the earth bury him away. The Emperor was nothing but a coward, relieved that he could drift into darkness on his own now. He didn’t need the pomp and circumstance, the admiration or the trust he’d been gifted by so many.

Visions of laughter and smiling faces poured through like poison.

Shanks did want all of that. He wanted the life he’d made, and the comfort and steadiness that only being a hero could grant.

Yet, it was never enough.

More than anything, Shanks wanted to be a hero for the people he loved.

I’ve been going about this all wrong.

Shanks pieced himself back together, struggling not to think out loud. He held that warm metal in his pocket to keep from speaking to the piece of his love that dwelled within it.

I came here to be a villain, the red-haired hunter reminded himself while he watched Y/N fading away behind a smile and an empty plate. Shanks worked the crowd during their vapid interview, still disgusted by his ability to charm, and bewildered by her ability to pretend.

Y/N seemed truly empty now. Broken.

It’s not over yet.

She had slipped from his grasp, all that energy inside her gone cold. He’d spent so long chasing her, yet that precious little bunny had never been his prey.

“Dear friends and Hunters,” his true prey beamed. Cedrick Sylvad had taken the stage again, controlling this insatiable crowd with ease. He seemed to glow when his game was played out, when his toys followed his every whim. “It’s been an honor to host you during this Hunt. Only two remain, and in two days’ time, one of these Hunters will claim her.”

Shanks followed his prey’s guiding motion to stand beside him, the green-haired prince flanking his other side.

Leeches. Vultures. Pigs.

The horde of vermin writhed and squealed with pleasure, as though Shanks couldn’t kill them in an instant for treating him like a toy, just there to amuse them.

“We will have a day of rest tomorrow, so our Hunters and their lovely doe can think on their choice,” Sylvad announced. He dared to put his hand on Shanks’ shoulder, so at ease while he enjoyed the attention. “I wonder which of you will be joining our family… Either way, this wedding will be one for the books!”

Shanks nearly ended the man on that stage when those owning fingers squeezed his shoulder, shaking for just a moment as though showing off his new toy.

He couldn’t kill him. Couldn’t.

But Shanks would hunt him all the same.

~~~🔴~~~

The next day was dark without that wounded star, her fading light still more beautiful than anything on this greedy island. No amount of wandering, or jokingly asking for his little bunny, could guide him to her.

Even her mountainous rage and despair were absent from the air, as though she’d faded away completely.

It would have been easy to find her. He could just take her. His power shook beneath his skin, tempting, calling, seducing. Like an addict, Shanks had to ward off every bargaining thought.

If he wanted to be a hero, he’d have to do this the hard way, which was harder with every passing hour that his prey kept him waiting. Everywhere he looked, his own stupid face was displayed beside that cocky prince. Decorations and invitations to a wedding that was more of a game than anything else flooded the space.

Shanks frowned at one of the banners again, zoning out on the foggy treetops and decorative arrows and leaves.

Antlers were the only hint that Y/N was involved in this wedding at all. They framed the title, ‘The Hunt Is Over,’ leaving the faces of the Hunters to float above the trees, arrows pointing down toward the tantalizing question that so many had already lost berry over.

‘Which Hunter Will Claim Her?’

~~~

It really was pretty. If Shanks didn’t want to rip out their throats, he might have praised whoever designed the annoying sign that he couldn’t stop staring at.

“Excuse me, Emperor Shanks?”

The pretty servant girl cleared her throat. Her eyes flew wide with fear when she met his stony gaze, until he remembered that he wasn’t there to slaughter them all. She blushed at his false smile, his charm enough to cover the violence humming within, at least for this pretty girl that led him deeper in deeper into the monster’s den.

“There's my favorite Emperor,” Cedrick welcomed Shanks into his gleaming office.

Every perfect item seemed in its perfect place, except for a wooden chair along the wall beside the desk. Y/N’s uncle motioned for Shanks to sit across from him in a cushioned chair that matched his own, but that wooden chair left a hint of disgust on the pirate's tongue that he had to choke down.

He tortures his food before he eats, doesn’t he?

Shanks had to focus now. He had to charm this beast. Yet, it was all he could do to soothe the beast within him when Sylvad ordered his guards and servants from the room.

He couldn’t kill him. Shanks couldn’t go against her wishes, but he knew he was right on this.

Cedrick Sylvad deserved to die.

“May I confess something rather embarrassing, Shanks,” he smirked, like a child that already ate all the sweets. It was all the pirate could do to keep pretending, so he nodded while he reached for the offered glass of whiskey to have something to cling to.

“Of course. You’re one of my most fashionable friends now, aren’t you?”

The beast laughed with pleasure while they tapped their glasses, hunger in his greedy eyes before he spilled his secrets.

“The truth is, I’m a bit of a fan,” Cedrick laughed at himself, and then at Shanks’ blank face. “I was enamored with tales of the Pirate King growing up. The thought of being so powerful that the world declared you a king… I couldn’t get enough of those stories. Quite a cliché fantasy for a second son, I know. Yet, here I am, sharing a drink with Roger’s apprentice.”

“To Roger.” Shanks raised his glass again, hoping that the old man couldn’t see him now.

“To the One Piece,” Cedrick urged, a manic glint in his eyes while they toasted again. “And to Hunters and Kings that claim what’s theirs.”

The man laughed while he opened a hidden window into a room beside the desk, so many glinting shells in that luxurious snail enclosure. The beast was having so much fun, almost giddy while he played with his toys.

The newest was a familiar, horned snail, but its red eyes stayed dormant for now, while he lined up a large projector snail to face the opposite wall.

“Shanks, I am about to share some delicate family secrets with you. Regardless of whether you accept the terms of this marriage contract or not, I hope that you will take them to your grave.”

The beast dropped his smile with this somber tone, but Shanks could still taste it. He was having fun.

“You have my word,” Shanks lied.

“I’m glad to hear it. I am going to show you something quite shocking, and quite dangerous. Please hold your questions until the recording is over, and the horned snail is active.”

He didn’t wait for a reply before dimming the lights for the show.

Shanks almost killed him then. His own Haki fought against him, and he had to conquer himself now, otherwise that greedy island would be nothing but dust.

That wounded star… It was a nightmare. Endless clips of that broken girl reaching her breaking point, sick laughter filling the space while Shanks fought not to reach for the locket.

Many of the scenes were in a hospital—an asylum, but the Emperor swallowed down more bile as other scenes followed Y/N through the world, as though everywhere she’d gone had been owned by this monster and his fucking snails.

Each clip was short, but they all showed him what Cedrick wanted him to see.

~~~

‘Don’t worry,’ the young girl cackled while she rubbed her hands over her face, smearing lipstick down her chin while her little sister cried at her side. ‘It’s just dolls! Just pretend. Just a brokendollbrokendoll—'

‘I’ll make you poor, and dead. Don’t forget, your daughter’s not well!’

The wounded star was older as she breathed her rage against her mother’s face. A hint of fear showed in her mother’s eyes before Y/N walked away, harsh laughter following her through the halls.

Her laughter.

‘Everyone here wants to help you, Y/N,’ floated an unnervingly soothing voice from off the screen while Y/N struggled with the restraints at her wrists. ‘We want you to get well.’

‘And I want you to fucking DIE! Haha HA!! That's right, you piece of shit, I’m going to fucking KILL YOU!!—‘

Y/N had no laughter or tears in the last clip. Just fury on her face while she lunged across a breakfast table toward her smirking uncle. Dishes shattered as she sent things flying, but she seemed to break more once the guards and servants pulled her back, soothing voices guiding that empty girl away.

~~~

“My apologies, Shanks. I know how shocking it must be to see such a sweet, young girl for the monster she truly is,” Cedrick sighed, the corner of his lips hinting at his delight. He swapped out his toys now, the visions of nightmares replaced by the jamming snail’s red eyes. “Please, allow me to explain.”

The Emperor of the Sea couldn’t speak, but the beast didn’t seem to mind. Cedrick filled their glasses again and enjoyed the sound of his own voice.

“My dear brother was quite sentimental, if you recall,” Cedrick began, almost including Shanks in the conversation. “He cared for my dear niece so much that it broke the poor girl’s mind when he passed. After all these years of treatment and support, I’m afraid that Y/N will always be sick. That last clip was just a few weeks ago, you see.”

The burn of whiskey on his tongue. His mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

“I’ve done everything I can to protect her, and the people around her,” Sylvad bragged, resting his feet on the edge of his desk. “Unfortunately, Arbo put us all in a difficult position with his will. That sick girl is his sole heir, and she’ll only become the heir when she marries. Even more dangerous than that, he declared that whoever my niece marries will own half of our family’s company once the vows are sealed.”

Shanks remembered to act surprised, but he still couldn’t speak. Cedrick nodded at his furrowed brows and continued on.

The beast knocked on the wood beside the jamming snail, drawing the Emperor’s eyes. Controlling even him.

“I’m sure you can understand why I’ve gone to such lengths to protect Y/N from her father’s blunders. The poor girl isn’t well. Putting her, let alone whatever villain that decides to take her for himself, in charge of her father’s legacy would be cruel. Shameful.”

“Of course,” Shanks managed to say something, although he wasn’t sure what.

The beast seemed pleased by the sound, his tone shifting while he tilted his head back and forth.

“I have had the great honor of guiding my family through this storm,” Sylvad dragged on. “I will do everything to protect the Sylvad family legacy, so I have allowed my sick niece as much freedom as possible, but it’s time to set things right. She’s unwell.”

He had to stop sinking. Shanks had to wake up.

Had to fix this.

“So, she needs a husband that can head the company? I didn’t think—”

“Y/N needs a husband that will sign their half of the company to me so that I can continue to run it without exposing how vulnerable and violent Arbo’s favorite daughter is.”

Finally. Finally, fucking getting somewhere.

Cedrick pulled a crisp sheet of paper from the drawer beside him, laying it out along with a wooden pen carved and etched with gold branches and leaves.

“This seems a bit rushed,” Shanks teased, trailing his fingers across the contract. “What if Y/N doesn’t choose me? What if I decide to take her and elope instead?”

“Such a pirate,” Sylvad chuckled, as though praising a favorite pet. “As you’ve seen, my dear niece has been sick since she was a child. We have kept it hidden to protect her dignity and the family’s reputation, and although we’ve kept the full details of Arbo’s will hidden as well, it wouldn’t matter. Y/N can’t get married.”

He gave a deep laugh now, leaning his head back after Shanks’ confused expression.

Shanks was going to kill this man if he kept this going much longer.

“Due to a legal conflict of interest with the stipulations in Arbo’s will, Delaine wasn’t able to take on the role after he passed, so my sister-in-law came to me for help. As Y/N’s conservator, it has been my duty to keep her healthy, and to provide as much freedom as is safe for someone in her condition.”

The realization hit the Emperor like a punch to the gut, but he sipped his drink to keep from showing it.

He really does own her.

“So, don’t go getting greedy, friend,” Cedrick scolded, tapping the contract between them. “Even if you steal her away, I must give consent and sign the documents for her marriage to be binding. Worry not, I’m sure you’d rather be out on the seas than mired in paperwork. You’ll still gain plenty of wealth, land, resources, a butchered Adam tree… Hells, I can even call in favors for you if you need certain areas cleared on your path to the One Piece. The Sylvad family takes care of its own.”

Shanks looked it over, noting that all he said was true. All it asked of him was to transfer over his portion of the Sylvad company immediately upon marriage. If he married Y/N, her uncle would win.

He signed it. He was here to charm the beast.

“Wonderful,” Cedrick purred while he studied Shanks’ signature and added his own. “Now, regarding the question of Y/N’s choice… I’d like to offer you another deal, in case my dear niece chooses the prince. You will gain everything from this agreement, except you will be marrying a younger, healthier, less… traveled bride.”

Cedrick pulled a picture frame from the top drawer of his desk, smiling at it before he laid it between them like he had the contract.

Kat. Y/N’s little sister, beautiful, even without the matching family smile.

“I understand if you’d like to punish the brat that cost you the Jewel Tree Adam all those years ago,” Sylvad beamed over his steepled fingers when Shanks met his gaze, “but I assure you, Kathryn will make a much finer Queen.”

“Both of these deals favor me,” Shanks tried, lost in the riptide of this man’s little world. How could he charm the beast when the beast kept pulling him closer, offering more and more? “What is it that I’ll be bringing to the table? There’s no company to sign away for Kathryn, is there?”

“I’m a fan, remember?”

The pleasure in those words shifted the air in the room, and Shanks was too busy trying not to be sick to figure out why.

“Follow me, Shanks, I’ll prove it.”

He obeyed, following the man that owned too much across the large room to stand before one of the many paintings of cedar trees along the walls.

Sylvad was humming again when he pressed the side of the gilded frame. The painting swung out on a hinge to reveal a few smaller frames that held various wanted posters and newspaper clippings inside, but Cedrick drew his attention to the article in the center.

It was old, so many secrets protected behind glass and gold.

“That article doesn’t say much,” the beast sighed, letting Shanks read it, as though the pirate could read a thing right now. “But the author is a friend of mine, so I got to hear Morgans’ real take on the God Valley Incident. Rumors that even that old bird wouldn’t risk putting to paper, but if they’re true… Well, I’d be an even bigger fan.”

The Emperor could just leave. Run like a coward from the sick desire in his enemy’s eyes. ��

But he had promised.

“What do you mean,” Red Haired Shanks asked. He hoped he could tear that question from the world, so he’d never have to say those fucking words again for the rest of his life.

Cedrick took in a breath, wetting his lips before gripping the Emperor’s shoulder again. He couldn’t know how close to death he was.

“Sylvad’s are good at keeping secrets, Shanks,” he promised before leaning close enough to breathe the secret along Shanks’ ear. “My nieces would be honored to carry the blood of Dragons.”

No. Run away.

Shanks couldn’t run. He’d promised to become a villain to save her. A monster.

Cedrick Sylvad dragged that greedy hand along his arm, not even flinching when the Emperor looked down his nose at him.

This trash thinks he can own everyone, doesn’t he?

“Do you agree to both offers, Shanks? Will one of my nieces be mother to a— “

“Of course, Cedrick,” the monster purred. “How could I resist?”

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

Author's Note: Wowzers, this one was a lot. I've had this chapter outlined since before the Hunt began, but finally getting to write it felt intense. I think I psyched myself out, lol. I hope you enjoyed it! Also, who's ready for the wedding?? I have some wedding plans drawn up already, but I had to stop myself from focusing too far ahead until I got to this point, so I don't have a chapter estimate yet. Knowing me, this might be a lengthy wedding, lol. It'll definitely be a wild one though 🥰

Chapter 41

This world is hard, and finding ways to help can be overwhelming. Operation Olive Branch is a volunteer, grassroots effort committed to the collective liberation of all peoples, and they prioritize transparency and community. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of fundraisers, as well as other ways to help.

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turtletaubwrites · 3 months ago

Text

Numbers Game ~ Chapter 39

As Ruined As Hope

Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 9k+

Ao3 Link

Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Chapter Tunes: Monster ~ Meg Myers | Lips Like Sugar ~ Echo & The Bunnymen

Summary: The end of the Hunt looms closer, and although your sister is the only hope you should cling to, it's hard to resist your favorite Hunters. It's hard not to enjoy a second date, even while the walls are closing in.

Ch. 38 Recap: Detailed recap is directly below the cut!

Author's Note: When I first started writing fics, I was a bit of a Plantser, but mostly the stories just unrolled in my mind as I went. (To be fair, I was in a very long mixed/manic episode when I started so that may have had something to do with all that Pantsing 🤷‍♀️). Then I decided to add Shanks to this sexy pot, and the Cross Guild party chapters got me HOOKED on Plotting. It's been rough getting back to my old writing speed with all the life things, but all of this has been plotted and outlined for months, and it feels SO satisfying to finally get it out to y'all. I can't wait to show you what comes next 🥰

Dark Content Warning: Uncle Cedrick is his own warning, y'all. I've also bracketed another recorded scene from the asylum, so please skip to the summary directly below the scene if doctors, mental institutions, or related topics are heavily triggering for you.

This is a core theme of the story, but I have done some time in those "grippy sock vacations" (both as a patient and as a peripheral worker), so I know how dehumanizing and painful it can be. This story has been heavy, and I wouldn't blame anyone for stepping away or taking a break. Whether you keep reading or not, I hope you know that you are not alone. You deserve to feel safe and worthy of kindness and love. 💜

Also, I hope everyone remembers the tag/warning: Cross Guild Boys are VILLAINS. It’s been there since day one, so 🤷‍♀️

Extra Tags/Warnings: The smut in here has a lot of spit. Here's your warning since I haven't tagged that before. I swear it's there for a good reason, lol 🤤

Alternate POV Symbols:

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for current One Piece plotlines!!! Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small or vague details, but Cross Guild is endgame, lol.

Ch. 38 Recap:

Shanks continued to struggle with his guilt and failures, still not finding a way to use the advantage the Concealer had given him.

Buggy & Crocodile found what comfort they could in each other while Buggy heard his star find pleasure and sorrow across the sea.

Reader tried to fight against hope, but realizing that she wouldn't mind ending up with four out of the five remaining hunters left her feeling free, especially when one of those hunters taught her how to fly.

Kat tried to have something for herself, but pushed that hope aside when the lovely Vinsmoke princess revealed her true goal. Reiju warned Kat of her family's plans, and vowed that she would kill the reader if she married one of her brothers.

Reader promised her sister that she wouldn't choose a Vinsmoke after learning how they planned to use her, but reader knew it wouldn't be her choice to make.

Now Reader's hopes had shrunk down to two out of five, and the reader braced herself. She remembered that hope was fucking stupid.

As Ruined As Hope

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Pretend, please pretend.

Luckily, a scowl wasn’t out of place on your sister’s face, but the violence in her eyes was too vivid.

You were good at pretending. No fear or disgust in your eyes, no hint of a snarl on your lips.

Just that smile, just warm laughter, just pretending while your green-haired suitor drooled over you at breakfast.

Kat was glaring, ignoring the princess at her side while she watched you flirt with the simpering monster.

“It’s too bad she can’t leave the island yet,” Uncle Cedrick lamented. His voice had shifted enough for you to hear through the cloud of compliments Yonji surrounded you with.

That tone of torment always pricked your ears.

“Y/N just loves snails, don’t you, niece,” he taunted. Slime crept up your skin at the satisfaction on his face. “Have you seen the Germa fleet? Incredible creatures, aren’t they?”

“Yes, Uncle, they are quite—”

“It takes a specific environment to cultivate such large and intelligent snails,” Judge spoke over you, taking your uncle’s attention again. “Given your family’s diverse real estate, you may already own an adequate forest to begin your own colony.”

“You know, our kingdom can shift however we like,” Yonji bragged while he trailed fingers along the side of your neck. Kat’s eyes were burning into him, and you were amazed that his flesh wasn’t sizzling against your skin. “I’ll let you tell my snail where you want to go, and we can take my whole tower with us on our honeymoon. Where does my pretty princess want to go?”

Visions of crumbled sandcastles filled your weak mind while you smiled at Kat until the rage in her eyes calmed into casual disdain.

“Prince Yonji, you’ve already shown me how to fly,” you purred, faking a sip of your drink so you could lean away from the green haired prince. “Now you say we can go anywhere I wish? It sounds too good to be true.”

The prince’s response was too saccharine to fully take in, especially when all you could focus on was keeping everyone’s attention away from the hate in your sister’s eyes.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

“Sis—”

“Sorry sweetheart, I need to borrow your sister for a bit,” their uncle cut in, cupping Kat’s cheek before nudging her out the door with the Vinsmokes.

Great.

Of course it was fake. Y/N was frighteningly good at pretending for the leeches she hated so much.

It’s just pretend. She’s going to drop them. It’s just for appearances, just for this stupid, fucked up game.

“Hey, Kat,” Reiju crept up behind her, that poisonous voice too soft. “Would you like to take a walk before the hunt?”

“No, thank you.”

Kat found her way outside to breathe some air that hopefully hadn’t touched any royal lips that day.

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

So many flavors of smiles to choose from, yet he had chosen this one. Uncle Cedrick had always been a master at playing pretend, but all these years of owning you, owning everything, had dulled the skill. Or he just didn’t need to hide anymore. Too much wealth and power to give a shit about what the cattle thought of him.

Or the deer.

“Take a seat, dear niece,” he commanded, gesturing for you to sit too close before pinching your cheek. “It’s about time for a check in, don’t you think?”

“Of course, Uncle,” you smiled. His smile only grew more feral, more pleased, and you tried to brace yourself.

“Do you have a favorite yet—or is it still too early to tell,” he taunted, cutting you off before the words could leave your lips. “Well, did you at least enjoy your little fantasy?”

Nausea roiled in your gut. No matter what his next words were, your body knew they would make you sick.

Uncle looked his happiest when he was tearing you down.

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Empty. I’m empty.

“Aw, and here I thought I was being so generous,” your uncle complained, the hurt in his voice so thin and brittle it was hardly noticeable over the pleasure. “I made sure you got a chance to get him out of your system. I hope you enjoyed getting violated by your daddy’s best friend. He's been asking about you for years, and it’s been ‘mm, well,’ so damn irritating. Did you scratch that itch of his?”

Nothing. Nothing at all.

Your ears were ringing. Your eyes were wide, but they stayed dry while you stayed still.

“Or did you already let him fuck you way back when,” Uncle Cedrick baited you. You couldn’t let him in. “Iceburg never struck me as a monster, but you always acted like such a little slut, even before your dead daddy trauma—”

“You’re the monster.”

No. Nonononono. Be empty. Empty.

STOP!

You couldn’t stop.

Ears were ringing. Body was shaking. Nails dug into your palms. Teeth bit into your cheek enough to draw a hint of iron. It was the only thing that kept you from tearing that slow, evil smile off his face.

“Are you seeing things,” he asked, but the concern in his voice was only there to trap you. “Remember to breathe, niece. You wouldn’t want to hurt a family member because you’re hallucinating, would you? You know I’m your human uncle, not a monster, right, Y/N?”

There were tears of terror and rage in your throat, but you’d let yourself choke on them before letting him see his salty victory on your cheeks.

Pretend.

He was winning. He always won.

“Oh my, you’re not looking well, Y/N. Let me call for the doctor.”

“I'm fine.”

Fuzzy. Things were going fuzzy, and that was so much better. You just had to be a doll until he wasn’t looking.

The monster smiled as he reached for you. The way he stroked your hair might have felt soothing from any other hand, but you had to fight not to gag at his touch.

“I’m your uncle, remember. All I care about is protecting our family. I must make sure that you’re not a danger to yourself or others.”

“I’m feeling well, Uncle. I’m sorry.”

How strange. It seemed like words had left your lips.

“I’m relieved to hear that, niece. Run along now,” Uncle Cedrick gave a lazy snap before pointing toward the door. “Go fix your face for the hunt. You’ll be sending that shipwright home in less than an hour, and we can’t have you looking so sad about it.”

A pause went on too long, and he pulled your chin toward him, forcing you to keep your eyes on his.

“Why...”

The laughter that left him was sharp and satisfied, as though he’d been waiting for you to ask.

“Please, dear niece,” Uncle Cedrick scolded you, letting go of your face to tap the tip of your nose. “I know you’re smarter than that. It’s impressive how well Iceburg’s done for himself given he started out on a literal pile of trash. Still, there’s nothing that dockworker has that we can’t buy. Let him down easy though. I’d rather keep his business than buy it, at least for now.”

Empty.

“Of course, Uncle.”

“There she is,” he breathed against your ear while he dragged you to your feet, cruel hands guiding you toward the door. “My little smarty.”

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐊 🐊 🐊 ~~~

He may have drunk all the scotch on the island. Bourbon didn’t quite do the trick, but the ex-Warlord couldn’t make it through this torture without some kind of burn.

Although with every night, every brutal moment he sat there helpless on the floor, Crocodile craved the kind of burn that would end this torture for good.

Something. There has to be something.

There was nothing.

All Crocodile found in those recordings was the torment he surely deserved.

He was a monster. He’d been a monster to her before he fell in love, and now he must suffer for his sins.

There was nothing to glean from Y/N’s recorded sessions except for the cruelty of the hells they were both trapped in.

“Just show me something, sweetheart,” the monster begged while his little love screamed and wept on the wall again. “Your uncle, your mother, that fucking doctor... I’ll gut them for you baby girl. Just show me—”

‘You seem calmer today, Y/N. How are you feeling?’

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

His sweet girl was quiet, head bowed before her torturer. If she spoke, that damned snail didn’t pick it up.

‘Would you like to return to your—'

‘I'm sorry,’ she choked out, her face stretching with pain before she sobbed. ‘I didn't mean to. I didn't want to... I'm sorry.’

Dr. Vorsan finally showed his slimy, pale face. Crocodile nearly slammed his hook through the wall when that trash sat at her table, dipping his head to meet her eyes.

‘Remorse is a challenging, but powerful emotion. Even the most monstrous of us can find peace after truth has had its moment.’

The child wept with such force, such pain that it tore through that frightening man until he could hardly breathe.

‘Are you ready to admit the truth, Y/N? Are you ready to start healing?’

‘Yes, doctor.’

His sweet girl should never have to beg, but he listened while she did.

‘What is the truth you've been hiding from?’

‘I'm... I'm a monster.’

No, sweetheart.

‘Why does that word feel like truth, Y/N?’

Somehow that bland face became frightening in its power. There was nothing the villain could do while he watched the doctor tear her apart.

‘I hurt it. I hurt— I didn’t mean…’

‘Are victims less hurt when their monsters don't mean to hurt them?’

He’s dead, sweet girl. All his words are ash, salted earth, don’t fucking listen.

‘N-no.’

‘You're making good progress, Y/N. Keep going. What are you?’

...

‘Keep going, Y/N.’

‘I'm a monster,’ the broken child cried out, and all Crocodile could do was smash another hole into the floor. ‘I'm selfish. I'm sick. I'm not well. I shouldn't— I can't.’

Y/N paused, her head slowly falling forward until her body slumped. She didn't react when her face hit the table with a gentle thud.

‘Good work. You can spend some time in the great room today once you're feeling better,’ Dr. Vorsan soothed, eliciting a soft groan from her still form. ‘Now that you're acknowledging the truth, we can begin to help you. You're a monster because you're sick, Y/N, but I can help you get well. Would you like to get well?’

The slurred moan that left that broken child sounded more like a ‘please,’ than a ‘yes.’

‘This is a huge step on the path to recovery,’ the dead man hummed while he patted her back, ignoring her flinch and the drool that fell from her slackened lips. ‘You should feel proud of yourself for accepting the truth. Acceptance is the only way to wellness. Do you remember what your truth is?’

No, sweet girl.

‘I’m a monster.’

~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~

~~~

~⚫SUMMARY⚫~

Crocodile watched a recording of the reader in the asylum, and this time, Dr. Vorsan showed himself on screen. The reader was crying and apologized for hurting “it.” She stated that she hadn’t meant to, but her doctor reminded her that intention doesn’t make a victim less hurt.

Dr. Vorsan convinced the reader to accept the truth so that she could become well. He made her repeat that truth.

The reader stated that she was a monster, and the doctor praised her for admitting it.

~⚫SUMMARY⚫~

~~~

~~~��🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Nothing matters. Nothing is real.

Smiling was easy when nothing was real.

“It’s cruel to keep them waiting, niece.” That voice filled the courtyard with laughs of derision and delight, but it wasn’t enough to pull you into the moment.

The arrow he snapped in half by your ear was enough. You gripped the shattered wood, shoving down all the images of what you could do with the broken pieces while the platform moved you, displaying you before your hunters.

Does the prey feel empty before it’s caught? When the deer freezes in place, when its eyes are wide against the threat of danger, does it feel fear? Or does everything fade away until the end arrives?

You hoped for that emptiness while you fought off the hope within you.

These hunters were far less dangerous than hope could ever be.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Doubt was his constant companion now that this Emperor of the Sea had been faced with his own wicked reflection. How could he trust anything that his weak, selfish mind craved to see? How could he trust his own choices after learning how fucking egotistical he’d always been?

What do you mean, he mocked himself while he watched the woman he’d hurt shine too bright for the pain she held. Shanks was caught on Y/N’s perfect smile, fixated on the way she pretended with every breath, every slight movement.

“Forgive me, princess, but I can’t tell you why you should let me stay,” the firstborn Vinsmoke prince crooned while he knelt at her feet. “I’m afraid that I’ve been called away for family duties.”

She was quiet, a few splinters falling from her grip while she waited for the smug piece of shit to finish.

“I have to leave the hunt now,” Ichiji confessed, kissing her knuckles while she clung to that shattered arrow, “but I’ll see you after the wedding. You’re going to be our pretty, perfect princess, aren’t you? I’ll see you at home.”

That smug, spoiled prince stood, kissing her cheek before flying away.

The leeches fucking loved it.

“My, my, what a shame,” Cedrick calmed them, bringing the attention back to his little hunt. “I wonder if Prince Ichiji was the one my niece was sending home. I suppose we won’t find out until they all say their piece. Which hunter failed to pierce her heart?”

Three more foes to tear down before he could claim that wounded star.

“My princess,” the green haired brat purred, “I’ll show you the world. Anywhere you wanna go. Anything for you.”

“I’m here for you, girlie,” his greatest foe smiled. “Let’s sail out of here together.”

“My cute, little bride.” The voice that poured down from that half-hidden face was sweeter than that sweet commander had any right to be. “I’ll take care of you, Y/N.”

It was his turn.

Shanks found nothing but emptiness in those lovely eyes, and it took every ounce of strength he had not to weep and beg at her feet for forgiveness.

But he was here to play the villain.

He wasn’t playing.

“You’re mine, little bunny,” Shanks breathed against her cheek, though his voice was captured, spread across the courtyard for all to hear. “I know you wanna keep playing with me.”

His little bunny gave a perfect smile, soft and coy, and Shanks wondered how many other bunnies had lied with their smiles. He never would have known.

Self-pity was fucking selfish, so that Emperor of the Sea ignored everything but the breaths he counted from her precious lips.

Only three enemies left in his path.

The perfect man that bested him at every turn.

The shitty little prince with too much confidence.

And the only hunter that might last more than a few seconds if Shanks could put them down the way he craved.

Katakuri’s crimson eyes flicked toward him as though he could sense the threat of death in the Emperor’s mind. Shanks huffed a laugh.

If only this battle could be as clean and clear as the violence he craved.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

“Mr. Iceburg,” said a voice from your lips, a voice that didn’t break like you nearly had. “I’m afraid your arrow failed to pierce my heart.”

Your favorite shipwright ignored the shattered wood you offered, staring into your eyes as though he could see the truth behind your mask. The two of you stayed silent while the vultures made greedy noises, excited or complaining over their bets.

Finally, the man of your dreams freed you from his gaze, only to glare at Uncle Cedrick with barely contained fury in his eyes.

“Don’t be a poor sport, Ice,” your tormentor smiled, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as he leaned toward the shipwright. “Your arrow may be broken, but our bonds will never break. You’ll always be a treasured friend of the Sylvad family.”

“Of course. I will always be your friend,” Iceburg spoke to you with a steadiness that stilled your breath. The gentle touch of his rough fingers against your own was almost too much to fight against, and the kiss he left across your knuckles tore a shiver from you that you couldn’t stifle. “I’m here for you, girlie. I just want you to be happy.”

“A true gentleman,” Uncle called out, dragging you away from the man of your dreams.

None of it was real. Just daydreams.

“We’re already down to three hunters? You’ve gone through them rather quickly, haven’t you, niece?” Your uncle chuckled along with the crowd while he pinched your cheek. He pinched you harder until you pretended to enjoy his teasing.

Uncle Cedrick’s little doll.

“Do you know what this means,” he riled up the leeches, and you almost missed the fucking band striking up to build the tension. “This means that one of these hunters will be joining our family in four days' time.”

So much applause, but it wasn’t for you. You were just the bonus prize; the little toy thrown in with the Sylvad wealth and power they all coveted.

“Each will have one more night to win her, and one extra day to fight off any cold feet. Then we’ll find out which Hunter will pierce her heart.”

Katakuri knelt as your buyers were guided before you, and the music dipped, building suspense instead of romance.

How fitting.

The sick humor of it helped you to smile at them while the snails captured it all. Thankfully, you were skilled at looking just close enough to someone’s eyes that you wouldn’t have to feel them, wouldn’t risk them seeing the cracks.

“To keep it fair, we’ll be drawing numbers to determine the order of the final dates. While we get that set up, why don’t we hear from our bride to be? Chinode, if you would be so kind.”

~~~🌲~~~

The young reporter seemed even more flustered to be peeling you apart than she had the men who hunted you. Mindless garbage spilled from your lips while she tried to catch your true feelings with her questions, pausing now and then for the crowd to cry out their guesses and demands, the pleasure they took at your torment only fueling your need to be numb.

They’d probably get off on your true torture even more than this glittering lie.

“Miss Sylvad, there has been a lot of speculation about your love life over the past few years,” Chinode filled her voice with too much interest, so you deepened your smile while you waited for her attack. “You’ve managed to stay under the radar, even ‘Big News’ Morgans hasn’t reported on the heiress of Sylvad’s since—”

“Come now,” you interrupted with a haughty laugh that would make any leech proud, “your boss knows what a bore I’ve been. Although, it’s been a while since the old bird came down for a movie night. Morgans makes the best popcorn, but please don’t feed it to regular birds. His feathers would get so ruffled if I didn’t warn you.”

Interviews were sparring matches, battles that could destroy the weak, the unprepared. You’d gone far too long without practice and your stamina was running out fast.

Although the laughter of the crowd was tilting, showing you might survive this little fight.

“You might think it was boring, but I’m sure the rest of us would love to hear about your past relationships,” Chinode needled, sounding too fucking sweet. “Do the three remaining hunters have anything in common with an old flame, perhaps? Or maybe you’re regretting that there wasn’t a woman on your list of suitors? It was only a year and half ago since you were spotted at your family’s resort with—”

“I’m flattered, Chinode,” you purred for the crowd. The vultures squawked with delight when you gripped her chin until her eyes grew wide, her cheeks growing pink under the bright lights. You gave every bit of heat you could, letting Uncle's ravenous guests feast on this drama instead of the past you were sick of remembering. “I do enjoy women as well, but I’m afraid you’re too late to join the hunt. You would have made it pretty far though, cutie.”

You dragged your thumb across her lips, hating the last word from your own. Watching the reporter stammer and sway was enough of a distraction for you, and for the greedy crowd, at least for a moment.

Flirting and teasing, lying and pretending; that was the only way you’d survive.

Everyone’s a fucking con artist.

“I hope you’ve all placed your bets,” Uncle Cedrick called out over his tittering guests. He pulled you to your feet to join him at a pedestal that held a beautiful, round cage that he’d spun for effect.

Dizzy.

“Go ahead, dear,” he taunted as he placed three, wooden balls in that golden cage, each carved with a name.

The order meant nothing to you, so you spun that cage again and again until those names fell into their slots. It took you a moment to stop spinning it, to stop staring into that swirling gold.

“And here we have it,” Uncle announced, close enough to jolt you out of it. “The hunters each have one more chance to claim her, although my niece will get to choose the dates this time. Tonight, Katakuri will have her, tomorrow Prince Yonji will have his go, and Emperor Shanks has won the final date.”

Somehow the order did matter, and you swallowed down your bile as the courtyard filled with noise.

So many boring, gluttonous pigs were on their feet, stomping and toasting and squealing in pleasure. It was quite the feat that they could lift themselves up under the piles of priceless fabrics and jewels they carried on their backs. The courtyard seemed to fill with the phantoms of all the people these pigs had trampled, all the blood, sweat, and tears they had sucked from the world around them.

Leeches.

Oh, that felt better. It could be just as reckless if you didn’t leash it, but hate had never left you as ruined as hope. Now your smile tasted sweet.

If only you could spill that hate like venom from your lips, like acid to burn the world around you. Their squeals turned into cries of pain in your mind, visions of violence and terror like a soothing balm. Twisted daydreams for a twisted soul.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

The scent of vanilla filled the air, and Kat was about to go violent if the crowd of makeup artists and hairstylists didn’t let her see her sister soon. Speaking privately in front of staff always felt gross, but she couldn’t even start while Y/N was hidden behind a wall of moving flesh and too many fucking smells.

“Hey, sis, I...”

Don’t do it. Don’t fucking do it.

“Fuck you, Kat.”

The middle finger Y/N flashed her made Kat’s choking laughs turn into a cackle so sharp and sweet that she forgot everything for a moment. Especially when her sister couldn’t fight off her own giggles.

“You look like a fucking cupcake,” Kat wheezed, eyes tearing up. She had to look away, the sight before her almost painfully hilarious, absurd and so fucking good.

“Shut the fuck up,” Y/N spat, annoyance killed quickly by her own snort when she caught her reflection in the mirror again.

Piles and piles of lace and tulle spilled out around her waist, soft whites and gentle pinks like so much frosting.

“Are those... Are those real fucking sprinkles?”

“No,” the cupcake squeaked, clutching at her chest while she caught her breath.

Kat found her struggling with the clasp, her hair too full of hairspray and ribbons to pull the chain of her locket over her head.

“You got this locket from—”

“It reminded me of dad,” Y/N lied softly. Even with her ridiculous makeup, Kat saw a hint of pain in her furrowed brows while she stared down at the locket in her hand. She ran her thumb over the engraved ship and its guiding star before stuffing it beneath the hot pink under bust corset that left more lace to spill over her chest and off her shoulders.

It looked like all that frosting was starting to melt.

“Don’t fucking laugh at me, you twat!”

“Twat? Did you just call me a—fuck, I’m sorry,” Kat choked, wiping more tears from her eyes while her sister failed so thoroughly at trying to look fierce under all those sprinkles and pretty, pink bows. “I just hope your lovely leather boy doesn’t eat you tonight.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t mind,” Y/N hummed. Kat’s jaw dropped, and for just a moment, she was the one being laughed at. It didn’t last long though.

Y/N looked like a fucking cupcake.

The Sylvad sisters giggled together until that cupcake was whisked away.

All that laughter faded, Kat’s face slipping into its most comfortable position. It wasn’t a frown, but it was too far from a smile for everyone she knew, except for Y/N. She was the only person that never pressured her to smile.

Until this morning.

Kat frowned then, walking through the cloud of vanilla perfume that still permeated the room. Somehow that scent had grown even stronger, and her frown twitched into a tiny smile at the thought of sprinkles again.

~~~🐈🐈🐈~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Uncle had almost told the truth when he made his announcement earlier. You had been given a list of themes to choose from, but since you didn’t know which hunter would claim each date, you chose the three most public options you could.

The “theatre troupe” you had picked turned out to be nothing but clowns.

Clowns spilled out of the tent that your date couldn’t fit inside, surrounding you both with so many colors and sounds, so many silly and impressive talents.

So many fake, red noses.

Your uncle’s obsession with driving you mad was so excessive, it brought tears of laughter to the corners of your eyes. Luckily the clowns deserved a laugh, and your madness stayed hidden for a bit longer.

“You look beautiful this evening, Y/N.”

That incredible voice washed over you, but your relaxed sigh turned to a gasp when Katakuri caught a clown that had launched herself toward your pedestal.

“Do not touch her,” he commanded, eliciting sighs from the audience that were watching you more than the performers.

“Thank you.” Your voice was too high. Stupid, fucking clowns. “My sister said I look like a cupcake though. Do you prefer me in leather or lace?”

It was such an effort not to snarl at the swooning crowd. They were distracting you from what could be your last chance for…

There was no fucking room for hope.

“I know you were hoping to watch the show, but I’d prefer some privacy if that’s alright,” Katakuri asked permission, and your smile was true when you gave him a nod. “Close your eyes.”

“Oh gods,” you cried out, embracing the freedom of flying, held so gently while your date saved you from the circus. Soon there was quiet, soon there was a slightly sweet scent in the air, and your body was laid onto something so soft, so comforting, that you kept your eyes closed until you could stamp out that hope again.

“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad,” Katakuri asked as softly as his voice would allow.

You fell back onto that mochi, staring at the pale dome above you while your exhausted laughs flooded the space.

“Y/N,” your only hope asked. That sweet, sweet commander tugged his scarf down as he leaned over you, but that show of trust couldn’t break through. “Can you tell me what you need? I can’t tell what you’re going to say. You just keep laughing.”

You laughed harder, the touch of his large fingers on your powdery face making you cackle when you realized what you needed.

“Fuck,” you giggled as you wiped as many sprinkles off your skin as you could. “Marry? Or kill?”

Katakuri’s sharp brows furrowed while he watched you shake off any semblance of sanity.

Nothing was real. Everything was fucking hilarious.

Katakuri was lovely.

“That’s my life. Just a game. Fuck. Marry. Kill.” You climbed to your feet, gazing up at that beautiful death wish before you tugged at all that stupid, pink lace. “Which one do you want?”

“I don’t—”

“Pick one, please,” you begged and taunted, still fighting with the laces of your pretty corset. “Unless you want all three? Let’s do all three—”

“No.”

That stunning, forceful voice made you gasp, but your hands didn’t stop their task until he lifted you into the air again.

“Please.”

Your voice was too soft, too real, and you tried not to let the look in his crimson eyes break through. It didn’t make sense how his grip on you could feel so gentle.

“If you truly want it,” he rasped, his fangs so close to you now, “I will gladly do the first two.”

You were nothing but melted frosting on his fingers now.

“But you will be a Charlotte,” Katakuri vowed, leaning close enough for you to feel his breath on your skin. “If anyone tries to harm you, let alone kill you, then they will die screaming.”

It felt so real.

Desperately trying to turn that deadly hope into anything else, you relaxed into his hold, your body going soft and loose.

“I will do anything for my family, Y/N,” that lovely, leather boy promised. “I need you, and I will protect you with my life. I promise you—”

“No promises, please,” you reached out, trailing your hand along his cheekbone. “Just be with me now. I want to see how husband sized you really are.”

He was so pretty, especially when that concern in those intense eyes shifted into something darker.

Hope was fucking stupid, but you’d take any moment of relief you could. Your pathetic lips parted, about to beg for him to help you forget.

“Are you sure?”

Katakuri’s voice sent your eyes rolling back. The way he held you had felt safe and gentle, but that heat in his voice was a delicious warning. He was almost three times as tall as most of the men you’d been with. Charlotte Katakuri was a beautiful death wish, and you wouldn’t mind being crushed, devoured, destroyed, so long as this gorgeous man did it right this fucking second.

“Yes, Katakuri. Please,” you dared to demand the terrifying man that held you aloft, so close to those razor-sharp fangs. “Please, let me see all of you. Show me what kind of husband you’ll be.”

Gods, his fucking voice. You were sure that he could bring you with only that heated chuckle, that hum that rolled over you like a wave.

“They didn’t need to dress you like this.” Katakuri teased his breath over your skin while you pulled free from all that lace. You were shaking when he set you down, but you managed to secure your locket around your neck before you lost yourself completely.

Charlotte Katakuri was stripping for you.

“You are so sweet,” he purred, his scarf and vest tossed aside before his huge fingers trailed down his tattooed skin toward those leather pants. “I’m not used to this feeling Y/N, but you have... surprised me.”

“What... What do you mean,” you managed to ask while you tried not to squirm like a bug at his feet.

Holy fucking shit.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

All you could do was admire the very husband-sized man that towered over you, his nude body painted with so much vicious ink. Katakuri laid on his side, an adorable, wicked smirk on that frightening mouth while he observed you.

“I came here because I had to. My family needs you,” he whispered in a voice that was too large. “I need you, Y/N, but I didn’t expect to want you.”

He laughed so deep, so perfect, while you moaned for him, already twitching when he teased his fingers around your body.

“My cute, little bride,” Katakuri praised, taking in a quick breath when you spread your legs for those lovely fingers. “Do you want me too, Y/N?”

Your answer nearly came out in a sob, but he understood.

He gave you what you needed.

“Fuck,” he huffed a laugh, bringing his fingers to his dangerous tongue before returning to your dripping cunt. “So sweet for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, please, Katakuri,” you whined, back arching against that soft, sweet ground when he shoved one of those fingers inside of you, whining again when he withdrew.

“Taste yourself for me,” Katakuri demanded, so low and soft when he pressed that finger against your lips. Pride flared in you at the heat in his eyes, especially when he stuffed a second finger into your mouth.

Just one of his fingers had felt almost as large as a fucking cock when he’d thrust it inside of you, and now two of those fingers filled your mouth while crimson eyes watched you so closely. It seemed as though that sweet commander might actually eat you up, but you didn’t care. You licked and sucked those huge fingers, giving everything to him, everything you could.

“Drool for me, pretty thing,” Katakuri rasped, his lips parting when your nails dug into his hand. “I want you dripping, so sticky and sweet before I use you.”

Your core clenched with need so hard that it ached. Spit and slick dripped from your desperate body; you didn’t even have to try.

“Such a good girl. Look what you’ve done to me, Y/N,” he praised, leaving a trail of spit when he took his fingers from your mouth. That trail of spit felt electric when he grasped his massive, leaking cock. It was too much, but you couldn’t look away while his thumb circled over his tip, mixing your saliva with that huge bead of precum. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Katakuri laughed again, such a delicious sound while you let out another pathetic moan.

“Will you let me use you? Will you trust me?”

Did you say yes? You must have, because your crimson-eyed lover brought his face to yours, stopping your breath before warm lips ghosted over your stomach. Those fangs were so close.

“I’ll be careful,” he threatened. The heat of his breath felt too good.

“I trust you,” came your reckless truth. “Fuck!”

You were deliciously lost when his tongue found you again. Your last hope dragged the taste of your need all the way up your stomach before he teased around one of your breasts, then the other. He gave a wicked smirk when he stuffed your mouth with his thick fingers again, stifling the screams he pulled from you with his other hand.

One finger, then two, and your greedy cunt already felt so full.

“Such a tasty mess,” Katakuri praised, tearing you into pieces. With all those fingers still fucking you open, the tip of his tongue over your clit was all you needed. You drooled and gushed around his fingers while you came, and you were limp and twitching when he dragged more spit and slick across your body. “I won’t try entering you today, but I want to feel you on my cock. Can I use you?”

“Please,” you begged for anything. Anything this man could give you. “I want you—fuck, Katakuri…”

Pure danger gazed down at you, but you didn’t care while his tongue left trails from your core all the way to your neck before he sat against the wall of mochi and pulled you onto his lap. So many desperate noises left your lips at the sight of him pleasuring himself. He spit in his hand, rubbing along the back of his overwhelming cock.

“Mm, so good for me,” he praised, his deep voice gone breathy while he slid you up and down his length. “Fuck, you’re so wet. Keep drooling for me, my hungry girl, just like that.”

His veins were so fucking thick, pulsing against your core. That Sweet Commander paused his movements to let you melt, and you forgot about everything. Nothing but that silky flesh against your skin. With your core pressed against his base, that swollen tip nearly made it to the center of your chest.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

“Are you ready for me,” he asked while he nudged your locket over your shoulder until it fell behind your back. Part of you almost woke up, but the feel of him twitching between your legs emptied your mind.

Nodding for him, you let yourself make a sticky mess so you could play. The feel of his tip under your hands was overwhelming. He moaned as you dragged your hands down, then laughed as your eyes went wide.

It took both of your hands to reach around him, your fingertips barely touching while you stroked up that wicked cock.

“Hang on, little bride,” Katakuri rasped. You cried out as he dragged you down, the press of skin against your ass was fucking unreal. The feel of his balls beneath you while your clit got so much delicious pressure along his base was incredible. You almost forgot his warning.

He used you.

He used you like a fucking toy, and you didn’t want him to stop.

“Katakuri!”

“Gods... I can feel you coming on my cock,” he praised, pretty eyes going heavy with need while he bounced your body over him. You held on, still adding to your sticky mess while that pulsing flesh rubbed against your core, your stomach, your chest. “Close already, pretty, fuck. Let go.”

He laughed at your whine, dragging you off him to watch you writhing in one hand while he finished himself with the other.

“You want my come, don’t you,” Katakuri gasped, looking surprised again. “I’ll drown you next time. I’m going to take such good... fuck. Such good care of you, Y/N.”

“Please...”

You didn’t want it to be over.

Your sweet, not-a-giant lover chuckled as though he knew how desperate you were.

“I couldn’t cover you in come tonight, pretty, but you’ve been so good for me,” he praised while he laid you on the soft ground he’d made for you. “Do you still want it?”

His words had sent you reeling, but it was nothing compared to the sight of his fingers dripping with his pleasure while he brought them closer.

“Yes,” came your desperate plea, a strangled scream leaving you when he fucked those messy fingers into your mouth and cunt again. His praise, and his teasing tongue against your clit had your eyes rolling back, your limbs spasming in pleasure until he finally set you free.

It felt strange to lie on the ground beside him. He was so sweet, his dangerous mouth quirked in a smile while he stared at you, fingers soothing your skin.

“I know that if I ask, you will tell me you can’t make any promises,” your lovely date breathed, “but I hope you believe me, Y/N. If you marry me, I will protect you. I’ll take care of you. We’ll keep both of our families safe.”

The heat that grew in your throat drew your attention to the chain that had pooled onto the ground beneath your neck. It was a pretty reminder of the only weakness you could afford. No more hope, no more selfishness, just a lump of warm metal to cling to.

His brows furrowed slightly while he watched you struggle to move your body until you pulled the locket free, but he returned your smile.

“Thank you.”

That was all you could say, and Katakuri didn’t push. He just held you close against that massive chest, warmth and comfort so heady; it must have been a dream.

If it was a dream, then the few, dangerous tears that escaped you were fine. He couldn’t have felt that salt on his skin anyway. Even your shame, your weakness, seemed small. Everything was small against this large, lovely dream.

~~~🌲~~~

There were no fluffy robes tonight.

Exhaustion felt sweet, but there was no way to restore the sugary costume you’d started the evening in. Katakuri had done his best to clean his mess, but those very real sprinkles had all been licked or fucked off you.

He took care of you, ignoring the bells and the leeches while he carried you home. It was incredibly warm. It would have been lovely to stay hidden there against his chest, wrapped up in soft, sweet mochi, like you were the center of a treat he was saving for later.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” said that sweet dream. You were still protected from prying eyes when he held you up to your window. He stretched a piece of himself, his delicious power allowing him to creep into your room to open the lock from the inside.

Katakuri seemed to catch your curiosity and hunger at the thought of what else he could do with that delicious power. He chuckled while he set you on your bed, still so gentle with you.

“Goodnight Katakuri,” you sighed. He had been far more comfortable than this lonely bed. “Sweet dreams.”

“Same to you, little bride.”

His face was covered again, but you knew he was smiling. His fingers trailed over your skin one more time, and you managed not to beg him to stay.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

The blood left in the swordsman’s wake almost brought a smile to his cruel lips. Love wasn’t safe, especially not for the people in the way of his.

Dracule Mihawk had never let himself love, but his hunt through the Underworld reminded him of something else he had turned away from, something he had lost.

How long had it been since he felt this? How many years had it been since he’d settled for his title, for boredom, for safety?

The World’s Greatest Swordsman had a purpose again, a reason for being.

What a coward I’ve been...

“Please, I don’t know anything,” his newest obstacle cried.

“Stop lying,” Mihawk sneered. His prey was leaking tears and snot onto the floor while he pressed his boot against his chest. Pathetic. “Who’s your contact? Where have you been getting these fucking snails? Speak up before I tire of waiting.”

“I swear, I don’t know,” the gangster whimpered. “Just another rat, but the pay was...”

Yoru traced along the man’s body, but he stayed silent.

Except for his pitiful sobs.

“The pay,” Mihawk wondered, “Tell me about the pay. Unless you’d prefer to add blood to the puddle of mess beneath you.”

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

Coffee couldn’t wake you from this dream, but you drank it down, grateful that your mother had drunk from the same pot.

Delaine Sylvad smiled at you over her mug, and you envied her that impeccable skill. If you didn’t know it to be a lie, you never would have guessed that she wasn’t a loving mother. You were good at pretending, but your mother had made it her life.

“I was hoping to see Kathryn again,” Katakuri hummed, the words snapping you back to the breakfast table he loomed over. “I brought more powdered doughnuts. I noticed she enjoyed them last time.”

No favorites.

“So thoughtful,” your uncle smiled, his mocking eyes flicking to you for just a second. “I’m sure she had some maid of honor duties to attend to. I’ll make sure she gets them.”

You fixed your face, although Katakuri’s sweet gesture wasn’t enough to stave off your guilt.

Kat deserved as much joy as she could take before your life fucked hers up again.

~~~🌲~~~

“It’s wonderful to see you again, Miss Sylvad,” the eager reporter nearly panted. The two of you were perched on that little platform, but neither the height nor Katakuri’s deadly glare could keep her from risking her life. “I have to say, you had some of us quite worried after your date last night. Not me though, Katakuri. I knew you’d take care of your little bride.”

“You were correct,” he replied, and you curled your genuine laughter into the perfect, coy chuckles that sent hums of pleasure through the crowd.

Your lovely, leather boy seemed to be practiced at handling all the attention, and it was easy to play off his reactions. Even under the weight of eyes, and the pressure of snails capturing your every fucking breath, Charlotte Katakuri helped you relax.

It was nice while it lasted.

Soon you were stuffed into another stupid costume, but your sister wasn’t there to help you laugh about it. The pointy, cone hat on your head was meant for a princess, all glittering green like your pretty gown.

The ugly hat looked too close to a dunce cap for your liking.

Maybe I look stupid enough that he’ll leave the hunt, you sighed to yourself as you were carted out in Uncle Cedrick’s carriage. Dust coated the air as the horses came to a halt, and you held your breath while you smiled at the crowd. The prince knelt before you, the golden sun gleaming off his suit of armor.

“My princess,” Yonji pressed a kiss to your knuckles. He looked at you with those hungry puppy eyes again. No such luck. “You wanted to watch a tournament, huh? How about I win it for you?”

The leeches had dressed up like peasants, although they still ate like kings while they watched the show. They cheered for your eager prince, and the noise they made when you played the part nearly knocked you back.

Yonji’s mouth went slack while you pulled a bright, green handkerchief from your corset. You were glad that you’d stuffed your locket deeper than where the stylist had stuffed this fabric between your breasts, and you hoped it would help you keep this man distracted.

“Please, take this token, Prince Yonji,” you purred, letting him kiss your fingers through the cloth. “It would be an honor to see you fight for me.”

“Anything for my sweet princess,” your hunter crooned. He tucked that green beneath his platemail before revealing that his own armor must be below that shining metal as he floated. The prince lifted you, showing you off to the crowd before placing you at a raised table above a long stretch of dirt.

All that dirt was like a fresh canvas, unspoiled and waiting.

You sat there for hours and smiled at the mess he made of it.

He was a vicious, little puppy, so happy and proud to drag the bloody spoils of his hunt to your door.

Yonji had challenged the other hunters to fight him, but they were nowhere to be seen, so the eager prince showed off his skills by fighting his own men. Soldier after soldier filed in with swords at the ready, until that dirt was kicked up, until blood turned to mud at his feet.

“What did you think, princess,” the manic hunter laughed. Other people’s blood was dripping from him, and he wiped a bit of it from his face before he hovered over the railing to touch your chin.

“You’re amazing, Prince Yonji, I’ve never—”

“Do you want to—”

“I want to see more,” you lied, grabbing his wrist while you fought your own guilt. So much blood in the dirt, and you were begging for more soldiers to take a beating. “Please, Prince Yonji. I like watching you win.”

Yonji beamed, taking your bait again and again, and you praised the terrifying prince for every cry of pain, every drop of red he spilled for you.

Nothing but monsters here.

A deep, quiet darkness pulled you in while you used this brutal game as a shield to avoid being alone with that eager prince. You weren’t supposed to be selfish again, but when you were wrapped up in another fluffy robe and carted away from all that dirt and blood, you were just grateful that it hadn’t been yours.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

The clashing sound of swords was too sweet, too tempting.

Shanks had to swallow down that craving, chasing it down with whatever had been poured into his wooden mug. It didn’t help that his name seemed to have been carved into every bit of wood within his reach, always framed between the cedar leaves that branded everything in sight.

Shanks filled that branded mug again. And again.

It wasn’t enough.

“Hey, friend! How’s it—”

“I have no desire to speak with you,” his enemy drawled, and that large voice drew too many eyes.

“You wound me,” Shanks taunted. He tossed that stupid mug aside to press his hand against his blackened heart. “I just wanted to chat about... I knew it. That’s a neat trick you have there.”

Charlotte Katakuri had shifted, body going rigid before that secret had even been uttered. The Emperor was impressed with this towering haki user, but he didn’t have time to admire the talent.

He had to fix this.

“Why don’t you take me to your little mochi palace for some privacy? Unless you’d rather chat out here,” Shanks motioned to the crowd of leeches, and to the snails that captured his every failure.

Crimson eyes might have brought another man to his knees, but Shanks just smiled, chuckling when his enemy led him away from prying eyes.

“Speak.”

Katakuri towered over him, closing them inside that power of his until the world turned pale.

Shanks feared nothing. Nothing besides his own greed.

I’m the villain here.

“Well, I—”

“What were you going to say about my sister?”

Danger crackled through the air, so tempting and sweet. Violence would be less vicious than this.

“I just wanted to offer my condolences. I know how much of a beast Teach can be,” the villain purred, motioning to the scars over his left eye. “I can’t imagine your little Pudding is doing well in his care.”

“What do you want?”

Shanks almost set himself free, almost reacted to the threat in that deep voice.

“I wanna marry that cute, little bunny out there,” the Emperor hummed as he started to walk around the small, strangely sweet place. “And I want you to leave the hunt so I can take my girl home already.”

“Miss Sylvad doesn’t seem to like you,” the towering man sneered, his mouth still hidden beneath a pile of feathers. “Why would I leave her with you?”

The red-haired pirate was losing himself, letting every shitty feeling tear through him like a landslide.

How far down would he go?

“Come on, friend. You know who I am,” he scolded, watching rage flair in those crimson eyes at the condescending tone. “I’ve been meaning to pay that old bastard back for a long time, and now he’s on my path. Since I’ll be putting him down after the hunt anyway, I’d be happy to get your sister back for you, safe and sound.”

He breathed into the silence, so at ease.

“You know who I am,” Shanks finally prodded. “You know I can save her.”

“I have no reason to trust you,” his enemy noted, distance in his voice. “With Y/N, I— “

“I want that little bunny!”

Shanks almost laughed at the greedy words he’d just snarled. A true villain; entitled, pathetic, and sick. He really was throwing a temper tantrum, and he’d almost let himself slip. Instead, he let his voice turn smooth, but wicked, after that show of rage.

“If you leave the hunt tomorrow morning, I will save your sister.”

Katakuri’s posture had barely changed, but they were so close. Violence would have been better than this.

“But if you don’t let me have this little bride, then I’ll just have to find myself another,” the Emperor threatened. He tried to use the hatred he felt for himself to poison every word, to prove how disgusting and selfish he was. It was the only way to fix this. “How old is Pudding again? I don’t like them that young, but I’m sure I can train her well, if Teach hasn’t ruined her already. I am a sucker for eye contact, and I’ll take real good care of her, brother… You know I can.”

That brother stayed silent, so Shanks just held onto his smile. He would do anything for Buggy, for Mihawk, for the woman he’d used for his own gain.

Y/N.

Shanks had promised that he would become a villain, a monster, to get her back.

The monster believed his own every word so that his enemy would do the same.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

It was good that Kat wasn’t here. It was better.

Your sister’s chair was empty, as was the one beside it. No pretty princesses at breakfast this morning.

Just a broken doll in a den of vipers.

Imagining Kat with a true smile on her face got you through the flattery, the promises, the lies. It helped you pretend, even when that inhuman prince wrapped his arm around you and bragged about all the battles he’d won.

“That was quite the show last night, Prince Yonji,” your uncle praised. He clapped the hunter on the shoulder, but his eyes stayed trained on yours.

What would he do without his favorite toy? His favorite doll to play with, to torment?

“Who knew my precious, little niece was so bloodthirsty? Delaine, were you aware that your daughter had such a violent heart?”

Your mother played his game, laughing and lying without saying anything but truth. She effortlessly shifted the conversation back toward the prince and his talents before letting Uncle Cedrick take the spotlight again.

Delaine Sylvad was an expert, a savant, and living under your uncle’s thumb had only sharpened her skill.

You had always been good at pretending.

I learned from the best.

~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~

~~~~~~

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Author's Note: Welp. We've got one more date to go, y'all. What else could I possibly throw at you? (Please don't kill me for Katakuri, I'm sorry!! 😭💔🍩)

Chapter 40

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