Numbers Game ~ Chapter 33
Keep Me Warm
Pairings: Cross Guild Polycule x Shanks x Fem!Reader x ???
Numbers Game Masterlist
Word Count: 10,625
Ao3 Link
Ongoing Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link
Chapter Tunes: Tainted Love ~ Holy Wars | Hatef--k ~ The Bravery
Summary: You're finding ways to cope, Shanks is finding ways to win, and the truth is finding its way out.
Recap: Emperor Shanks won the first hunt, and the first private date. The Cross Guild learned how you feel about about your red haired suitor, and the swordsman declared his plan to leave.
Author's Note: Hi friends! Just want to say that sharing this story with you means so much to me. I wish I had some Cross Guild backup in my life right now, but having y'all reading my obsession makes me so grateful! I'm trying to get back to interacting, I'm just having a hard time doing anything that's not writing this right now, but all of your words make me so happy, thank you!! 💜🙏🏼✨
Dark Content Warning: It's not the reader, but within this chapter there are references to suicide through engaging in dangerous and destructive behavior. The violent activities are mentioned within canon, but the emotional motivations are added. The situation ends well, but I'll bracket those sections with ~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~ in case that topic is triggering. Please, take care of yourselves, and know that you are not alone! 💜
Alternate POV Symbols:
🌲 ~ Reader | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⏰ ~ Flashbacks for listed POV | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting Dark Content as listed in Author's Notes
!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic currently contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc. As we get further into Egghead Arc where our lovely boys are showing up more, there will be more spoilers as time goes on. Sorry y'all, I'm trying to keep most spoilers small 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, Toxic Family, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Pain Kink, Possessive Behavior, Teasing, Threats, Hate Sex, Rough Sex, Relationship Drama, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Uncle Cedrick Has Become His Own Warning, Splinters, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
“That’s one creepy ass boat.”
“Excuse me?”
Mihawk couldn’t be annoyed with his clown when that observation had their much taller lover nearly buckling beside him. Those large fingers dug into his shoulder while Crocodile laughed at his expense, his voice even rougher than usual at the early hour.
“Hitsugibune is a fine ship, and has carried me across the Grand Line for years,” Mihawk countered.
Crocodile took the luggage from his hands to toss onto the one-man vessel.
“It does have a certain flare,” Crocodile hummed, leaving a quick kiss to his temple.
“It’s just your aesthetic, though, right,” Buggy shook as he prowled closer. “It’s not a real coffin?”
“Not yet,” Mihawk teased. It earned him an adorable frown that made him laugh, and the movement reminded him of all the delightful things they’d done to him last night.
“Sure you’re gonna be alright all cooped up in your coffin so soon,” Buggy taunted with a few prods and pokes along the swordsman’s healing chest.
Moans left those cruel lips, and he tried to back away, but ran into a wall made of muscle and heat, and wrapped in a purple, velvet smoking jacket.
“Promise you’ll be a good boy for me?”
Mihawk almost buckled then, loving the satisfied noise Crocodile made when he reacted to him. The three lovers kissed goodbye, until he was alone again.
The World’s Greatest Swordsman drifted alone on his one-man boat, and wondered how long it would take for Crocodile to realize that he hadn’t answered his question.
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
“King of Diamonds,” Shanks beamed at her, mesmerized by her every move, and getting caught on the gentle sway of her locket while she laid out the trick for him again and again.
It was Buggy’s trick. Buggy’s locket.
The Emperor of the Sea didn’t realize how much he‘d needed this. Seeing Y/N’s enduring love for their lovely clown gave him a burst of hope that clouded his mind, but he kept up the front.
Maybe playing the villain won’t be so bad.
“I’m afraid you missed this one, Shanks,” she breathed, eyes fluttering a bit as they darted back to her hands. Her movements had to be practiced in front of a crowd like this, but he found himself drawn into her orbit, yet again.
“That’s alright,” he teased, snatching the card from her. He huffed a laugh as he dropped the Ace of Hearts before taking her hand in his. Y/N’s lips parted in a soft exhale, and he couldn’t seem to tear his eyes away from them.
“I always win when it counts.”
The sound of bells filled the air.
“Do I count,” she teased, pressing those lips into a subtle, biteable pout for him.
Hope and greed brought his lips to her skin, just a press against her wrist while he fought the urge to throw her over his shoulder and run.
“I think she likes you, Chief.”
“What can I say,” Shanks smirked as he plopped down beside his first mate. Y/N’s eyes were following him so clearly on the huge screen that he didn’t need to glance back to check. “I think I might just win this little game.”
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
“I hear you’re the best there is!”
“That’s correct,” Dracule Mihawk deadpanned. He was only twenty-two years old, but the brightness shining off of the boy that had invaded his corner table made him feel aged and weary.
Shanks didn’t think his eyes could get any wider. This dangerous, infamous man was so… pretty!
“Run along now.”
“No way,” Shanks laughed, leaning over the table. He froze for a moment under the glare of the strangest eyes he’d ever seen. “Come on, Hawk Eyes, I’m challenging you to a duel!”
The Marine Hunter didn’t spare him another glance, just returned to his book as though Shanks didn’t exist.
“Come ooon, I bet you’re bored on this little island. I’m only here so my sniper can visit his wife, and they’re not open for company right now. Plus, my first mate already left me for the barmaid so I’m...”
Rambling. Why am I rambling?
Shanks didn't know why he couldn’t let it go, but he had to try. The young captain saw the chance to test himself sitting before him with a beautifully bored look on his face.
“I wanna fight you.”
“I’m afraid I’m not in the mood for slaughtering children today.”
“I’m eighteen, and my sword is ready, so let’s—“
“Let me see your sword,” Mihawk ordered. He had to stifle a smirk when the redhead obeyed him instantly.
The saber was longer than was typical for that type, with an extended, green hilt that showed a subtle, but elegant artistry in its craftsmanship. Mihawk was tracing his fingers around the pommel before he remembered that he should have killed the idiot for handing his blade to an enemy.
“Where did you get this,” he asked instead of stabbing the rookie, letting the young man take the exquisite weapon back.
“Oh, uh…” Shanks’ cheeks almost matched his hair while he decided what to say. The image of this man laughing him off made sharing the full truth unappealing. “I’ve always had it. My mentor taught me how to use it. So, will you fight me?”
“You’ve piqued my interest. That’s often a fatal mistake, so if you choose to walk away now, I’ll let you go.”
“No one gets away from Red Haired Shanks that easily,” he winked, holding out his hand.
Mihawk offered his own, and Shanks grinned as they clasped each other’s forearms for a moment.
“I like your jacket.”
The swordsman narrowed his eyes at the compliment, but followed the young captain out of the tavern, and into the lightly wooded area outside of town.
He could have sworn he’d seen that ugly, straw hat somewhere before.
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
You weren’t supposed to think about him.
How could you hold up that perfect, doll face in front of all the leeches if they smelled any hint of weakness?
How could you keep yourself from crying when you remembered Buggy’s laugh that made you laugh, his touch that made you his, or his pain that broke your heart?
Yet you kept surrounding yourself with every tiny piece you had left, a masochistic challenge to spice up this auction for your life.
And here was the man that had hurt Buggy. The asshole that had left him wounded for decades. You had to convince him to apologize to the man he claimed to love, only for the traitor to abandon him when he needed him most.
I hope they take care of him…
You didn’t have room for too much hope. Not when you could end up trapped with this viper, especially if Uncle caught a whiff of your disdain.
He’s staring at my lips like he did that first day. Like I’m just something sweet for him to taste.
“I always win when it counts.”
The sound of the ending bells felt like applause, and another smiling face filled your mind. Blood had dripped onto that stage like scattered petals, all for you.
Pouting for the Emperor gave you a thrill of pride over how easy it was to make his eyes flash with heat. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist, and you didn’t have to fake the shivers it caused.
The red headed pirate sauntered off, but your eyes were drawn to him again and again.
The prey had its own target now.
I’d rather die than marry that traitor, but if he traps me…
I’ll fucking kill him.
I’ll kill him for you, Buggy.
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~
“Holy shit,” Shanks panted as he narrowly avoided being cleaved in two by that tiny fucking dagger.
“Ha, already lost your confidence, boy?”
Mihawk hadn’t lied. He hadn’t planned on killing anyone on this boring, little island, but fresh blood on his blade had him losing himself. He’d had a few moments of hope for a real challenge, but the building disappointment was about to quicken his opponent’s death.
“Nope! Just– fuck!”
The red haired youth dodged too late, collapsing to the dirt. He clutched at his side, hardly doing a thing to staunch the blood that was slowly staining the forest floor.
I can’t die yet. He didn’t even draw his sword…
“You’re the strongest fighter I’ve met in awhile, yet you’re still such a pitiful creature,” Mihawk scowled, kicking the saber from the rookie’s weak grasp. “And here, I was almost having fun. What a waste of time…”
“W-wait, Hawk Eyes,” Shanks coughed, spreading more blood around. “You’re bored, aren’t you? You like fighting?”
“People can be so perceptive in their final moments,” he drawled. Mihawk brought Kogatana to the boy’s throat, the small blade poised to cease his blubbering.
“You said you almost had f-fun,” Shanks bargained, his eyes wider than ever while beautiful death loomed over him. “I'll make you a deal, alright?”
Golden eyes seemed to sharpen, just as the blade pressed into his neck a bit more.
“Don’t waste any more of my time,” came his vicious, yet waiting voice.
“I won’t,” Shanks panicked, smiling under that cold glare. “It's too early for me to die, friend. There's so much for me to learn. I promise that if you give me a chance, I'll get stronger! Let me live, and I'll get strong enough to give you a real fun fight, I swear!”
One of the longest moments Shanks had ever experienced dragged on, while the unreadable swordsman above him hardly moved at all, until his head cocked to the side.
“Intriguing,” Mihawk frowned, still holding steel against that young throat. “I suppose I can hold off on killing you for now.”
“You can– ow!”
Mihawk removed the blade that Shanks had leaned into in excitement, and rolled his eyes with instant regret.
“Don’t challenge me again until you’re ready. I’ll kill you slowly for making me wait.”
“No problem,” Shanks waved to the man’s back. Dracule Mihawk had already left him bleeding in the dirt. “I’ll get you back, Hawk Eyes.”
~~~⏰🔴🗡️⏰~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~
It felt so quiet with just the two of them, even with all the hustle and bustle of the guild getting to work.
He’s like a big, scary teddy bear.
“You alright little clown,” Crocodile soothed, rubbing softly between Buggy’s shoulder blades while he had a coughing fit.
The clown gave a thumbs up, grateful that he hadn’t spoken the thought out loud.
Mihawk had been gone for hours, and the afternoon was aging fast, but neither of the men on the couch had cared about dressing for the day. That soft smoking jacket made Crocodile’s warm body almost too soothing to lean against, especially while the clown listened to his star do their card trick again and again.
When the coughing stopped, Crocodile’s large hand pulled gently, guiding the clown back into that comfortable position.
Buggy didn’t fight it. He knew he might be an idiot for getting used to this strange reality where Sir Crocodile cuddled with him, but he needed it right now.
Maybe he needs it too.
~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
I’ll skin him. Boil him alive.
“You look amazing,” Kat muttered, avoiding your death-filled gaze in the mirror.
“Tell me,” you growled at the nearest staff, “why the fuck do I need to wear a swimsuit on a first date?”
They’d given you a variety of options, all of which were as red as that stupid hair. You’d chosen the one that came with a tiny bit of cloth to wrap around your hips, so you could at least pretend you were wearing some fucking clothes.
“I’m so sorry you weren’t given more notice, Miss Sylvad,” she hurried, her empty words already draining your resolve.
It’s not their fault. It’s his.
“As you know, the hun– suitors, excuse me,” she coughed nervously, and you saw Kat’s eyes widen over her shoulder while you shoved down the manic laughter in your gut. “The suitors get to choose the themes of the first dates, and the Emperor stated that he enjoys long walks on the beach, so–”
“I can walk fine without–”
“There’s my lovely nieces,” Cedrick beamed, nearly hitting one of the staff with the door when he barged in. “Everyone out, even you, sweetheart.”
Kat stepped back from his touch on her shoulder, but you told her it was fine before her fruitless argument could leave her lips.
He was going to get what he wanted, so she might as well save the energy, though she scowled at him all the way out the door.
“Nice pick,” he taunted, gesturing at your swimsuit. “I preferred the little, frilly one, but I’m sure the pirate can tear into this one just fine, even one handed.”
Nothing. Give him nothing.
“Did you have something to tell me, Uncle? I have a date to prepare for.”
“Atta girl,” your uncle laughed, lounging in the nearest chair. “Just wanted to check in on who your favorites are.”
“It’s too early to tell,” you reported, fighting to keep your voice even.
“Well, be sure to keep me posted,” he ordered with a smirk. “Unfortunately there’s already one name that needs to be crossed off the list. I want him to have his little date though, and we should send someone else home before him. The last thing the family needs are accusations of racism if we boot the only Fishman first. Inclusivity bullshit is always a fucking headache.”
“Why…”
Fukaboshi was overwhelming. He was two stories tall, and you couldn’t imagine leaving your whole world behind, or how any of that would even work.
Yet, he’d seemed truly kind. The prince had almost put himself, and his people, in danger with his earnest questions about your captivity.
He’d come to this land of leeches looking for allies, but only cruelty lived here. Only gluttonous, selfish, hateful—
“Who would you like to send home first,” Uncle Cedrick asked, snapping you out of your thoughts. “I’ll be rigging tomorrow's game so the Fishman should win the next date, then we can send him off with no worries. So who’s your least favorite?”
“I really don’t know, Uncle. I haven’t spent enough time with them to be sure.”
A little movement around his eyes, a little smirk. You weren’t going to fall for it.
“Let’s remedy that, dear niece,” he declared as he moved toward you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He turned you toward the mirror, and his reflection was frightening.
He was gleeful.
“I have put quite a bit of berry on your red haired date becoming the next King of the Pirates. Make sure you treat him like royalty tonight.” He left you there to wince while he called over his shoulder. “I know how much you enjoyed whoring for those pirates, Y/N. Now you could be their little whore queen!”
~~~
You were carted around like royalty in your uncle’s obnoxious carriage, already feeling the cool, gentle breeze through the wood paneling as you neared one of the only sandy beaches on the small island. The rest of the coastlines were rimmed with craggy cliffs at the edge of forests, and perching on those rocks was your preferred way to enjoy the ocean.
Not shivering in a swimsuit at dusk, with sand already creeping up your legs.
“Wow, you look…”
All the staff scurried to the little trailers nearby, leaving you face to face with him while he scanned over your mostly bare skin.
Shanks looked right at home on the beach.
He’d managed to find a dark green version of his hardly-buttoned shirts that looked unfairly good against his skin, but his loose fitting pants were still covered in a headache inducing pattern. They were gathered below the knees, presumably to make his long walks on the beach in those lame sandals that much easier.
And his cape. How could you forget the cape?
He was still gawking at you while you tried not to fume at how fucking stunning he looked in his stupid clothes.
“Why are you dressed like this?”
“You don’t like it, Emperor,” you pouted, playing pretend with a wobble of hurt in your voice. “I heard you wanted a beach date.”
“I like it very much,” he purred, bringing a gasp to your lips when he was suddenly inches from you. He trailed his fingers down your neck and chest, following the chain of your locket until he smiled. “I just don’t want my little bunny getting cold tonight.”
Shivering under the weight of his warm cape, you thanked the charming villain while he led you to a little table by the fire. Staff rushed up to serve you, but Shanks snagged the open bottle, and waved them off while you tried not to let your mouth water at the platter of hors d’oeuvres between you.
He poured the sake, but said nothing while you toasted. Just stared at you, his little half-smile growing deeper when you accepted a bite of food from his hand.
At least you didn’t have to worry about your food with Shanks tasting everything along with you. No one would dare spike the Emperor’s drink.
I might. If I have to.
You faded in and out of daydreaming his murder, and nearly forgetting.
Shanks was the perfect predator, luring in his prey with such playful joy and power. He was pure light, drawing in the moths until they burned to a crisp in his cruel, selfish flames.
You knew this, yet there were moments when he made you truly laugh, and you clutched at your locket, silently vowing again and again that you would destroy this man.
If he didn’t kill you while you made him pay, then his crew surely would. It was a last resort.
You didn’t want to die, and it felt nice knowing that.
Yet if the only options you had left were being owned by this monster, or dying while you took him down, then you’d get him drunk and happy on your honeymoon, and gut him like a pig.
Until then though…
“You feeling alright, gorgeous,” your prey checked in, guiding you to a trailer to wash up. The staff disappeared again, scattering like cockroaches, but the illusion of privacy never fooled you.
“I feel good.” Your hum made his eyes glint for you, and he pulled you down the shore, away from the staff, and their snail-covered equipment.
“Wanna dip your toes in,” Shanks ginned, wrapping his arm around your waist. It felt like he wouldn’t give you a choice either way. His strong fingers curled around your hip, teasing along the edge of your swimsuit, and your body ached when you remembered what they could do to you.
You wanted to forget for a while. You wanted to pretend.
Might as well enjoy myself before I kill him.
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
He’d almost forgotten where they were.
It doesn’t matter. I’ve got her, Buggy. Your shining star.
When she laughed, the Emperor of the Sea forgot everything.
It was a perfect sound, a beautiful movement of her body, her head thrown back just a bit, as though he’d shocked the laughter out of her.
She didn’t look like a wounded star tonight. There was fire beneath all of her flirting, and he had to feel it.
Greed crept back into his heart the longer he spent by her side, and he couldn’t help but reach for her, pulling her toward the gentle sea.
He wanted her. He wanted all of them.
Shanks wanted everything, and that sweet, little pout of hers seemed to promise it.
“It’s too cold,” Y/N shivered, avoiding the soft waves that lapped along the shore.
“I’ll keep you warm.”
She snorted, clamping a hand over her lips when he cocked a brow at her. His lovely date dipped her toes in, then took off up the beach, her laughter filling every bit of his mind until he joined in, chasing after her.
“How are you going to— oh,” she panted, gasping when she turned to find him so close.
“Bunny,” he laughed as she tripped on his cloak trying to run backwards. He caught her just in time to fall with her, bracing with his elbow to keep his full weight from pressing her beneath him.
Shanks forgot.
That shining star was still gasping as she laid on his cloak, a perfect blanket spread out to watch the night sky she must have fallen from. The soft tint of the night made her skin seem unreal, intoxicating.
He had to touch her.
She touched him first.
Y/N’s hands wrapped around his shoulders, fingers curling into his hair when she pulled him in for a kiss. He couldn’t hold in a low growl that grew when she drank it hungrily from his lips.
Nothing else existed when she pulled him closer, tugging at his shirt to tease her nails along his back. She moaned so sweetly around his tongue when he grinded himself against her, barely any cloth to keep them apart.
He almost forgot.
“Mmm… Hey, bunny,” Shanks purred, his eyes heavy lidded to match the lovely ones beneath him. “Are you sure—“
“Aren’t you going to keep me warm?”
Y/N was pouting, teasing, begging, her fingers still trailing over his skin.
Everything about her was giving heat.
Everything was perfect.
Everything except for a flash in her eyes that plunged Shanks’ heart into the icy depths of the ocean at his back.
“Is something wrong,” beautiful death asked softly, her mask so exquisitely crafted.
“No, not at all,” Shanks cleared his throat, pushing himself away. “I just… It would be a shame to have my first time with such a beauty in front of an audience.”
The sound of bells saved him.
She tilted her head back, sighing when she saw the vehicles approaching.
“Bunny, I—“
“Thank you for the lovely date, Emperor. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He helped her up, brushing the sand from her skin while he tried to figure out what to say.
He didn’t think fast enough, and soon the staff had swarmed her, wrapping her in a fluffy robe before whisking her away.
The red haired pirate declined a ride back to the estate, waving the people, and their watching snails away.
It was a long walk.
There would never be enough distance for Shanks to cross to get away from the sickness that had seeped into his bones, into his every organ.
Y/N’s empty eyes had branded guilt onto his heart before, and he couldn’t stand his arrogance. He thought he’d already made it all better, that his greedy heart was going to take everything it wanted.
I wanted to own her, just like the leeches.
Tonight, Y/N’s eyes hadn’t been empty, but she was so good at hiding.
Or I just saw what I wanted to see. Until she…
What Shanks had seen in that flash, in that glimpse beneath her mask, was evil. It was frightening, sick, manic.
It was hate.
I did that. I filled that lovely girl’s heart with hatred.
The walk wasn’t long enough to shake off his self loathing, but Shanks knew what he needed if he was going to make things right.
He needed one more chance.
One more private date.
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
“Look, I’ll taste it,” your mother sighed before taking a drink from the steaming mug she kept brandishing at you. “Now please, drink it, sweetie. You look…”
“I look like death,” you drawled, wishing the coffee would cool down so you could chug it.
“Not at all, Miss Sylvad, you just need some brightening up! We’ll take good care of you,” chirped your mom’s favorite makeup artist. You couldn’t remember his name this early in the morning, but you were fighting not to throw the hot coffee at him so he’d stop being so fucking cheerful.
You hadn’t been able to fall asleep last night.
The scent of him had lingered around you, even after you’d tried to scrub him off of you in the shower.
The whole night had replayed in your mind, making you dizzy with guilt over every moment when you relaxed, when you forgot.
Then it would cycle through again, rage building until you chewed your tongue to keep from snarling to the empty air around you.
But your body…
Frustration nearly clawed itself out of you, and you’d had to hold your breath to fight the screams and tears it would have left in its wake. You’d been so fucking close to having something to turn your brain off for a minute, even if it was him.
All of your attempts to take care of that need on your own left you defeated, your guilty hunger twisting every image you tried to cling to.
You couldn’t imagine his fingers without picturing the gloved ones you missed so much.
Couldn’t picture Shanks fucking you without remembering him making love to Buggy. You were trapped in silence on the edge of that bed again, but there was no one to rescue you this time.
Last night, you’d fallen apart. It had to be it. You couldn’t afford these emotions.
You’d bitten your pillow to stifle the wracking sobs while your mind tore you down, forcing you to mourn more than just Buggy.
It felt like you were choking on their names, all the men you’d left behind.
If loneliness alone could kill, you would have died there in that luxurious bed, aching to be smothered in the heat of bodies you’d never feel again.
Shanks was torturing you. His very presence was a reminder of the daydream you had fooled yourself into thinking you could keep.
“Are you alright, Miss Sylvad?”
“What? Oh, I’m… I’m fine.”
The sound of tears in your voice was enough to drag you back.
You let yourself fall away.
Empty.
Empty’s good.
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
Benn literally kicked his ass out of bed this morning, ripping the expensive bedding off of his captain while he scolded him out of the dream world.
“Quit complaining,” his first mate commanded him, rolling his eyes at the pathetic groans. “You’ve got a beautiful girl to win, Chief. You can sleep when she’s yours.”
Shanks’ morning mind was still soaked in last night's attempt to drown it in sake, so he couldn’t tell if he’d thanked or cussed out the older man for his help. Regardless, the red haired pirate was dressed for breakfast, luckily remembering his appointment.
After the first dates, the suitors got to have breakfast with the Sylvads.
Maybe I’ll get a moment alone with her.
“There’s our favorite Emperor,” Cedrick called through the door, gesturing for Shanks to join them. “Make yourself at home!”
“Home” was strangely sterile, more of a conference room than a dining area. Cedrick sat at the head of the table, offering the empty seat beside him, opposite Y/N, and her practiced smile.
I can do this. I can convince her I’m on her side.
I have to.
“I thought this was gonna be a family breakfast. You’ve got a little sister out there, don’t you, gorgeous?”
“I—“
“Don’t worry, Shanks,” Cedrick waved off the question. “There will be plenty of time for family get-togethers. Since you joined our game at the last minute, I figured we should have a little business talk before you get back to all the pleasure.”
Shanks almost shoved his fork through the man’s throat.
The taunting glance he’d given his niece at the last word tested Shanks’ self control, and he couldn’t believe how calm she seemed.
“Of course. I understand it’s not just love we’re fighting for.”
“Not love. Family,” Cedrick vowed. He emphasized his words with a firm grip on Shanks’ shoulder, and the pirate had to hold his breath to keep from shaking him off.
How does she do this all day?
“Whoever marries my dear niece will be family, and Sylvads take care of their own. I know there’s a lot we could do for each other.”
“It’s an honor to be considered,” Shanks toasted them both, aching to see anything real behind her polite mask.
“You know, Shanks, it’s a real shame you went to the wrong brother all those years ago,” Cedrick mused, shifting his tone just enough to suck all the air from the room. “You might have been King of the Pirates by now if you’d asked me instead.”
“What do you mean?”
Shanks mumbled those loathsome words while the ground disappeared beneath him. The question in her eyes sparked his panic, but it was too late.
“Please, Arbo loved to brag about drinking with Roger’s apprentice. I could never understand how he let a little girl spook him out of the deal of a lifetime.”
“What are you talking about?”
Her eyes were wide when she asked, but Y/N wasn’t looking at either of them. She was slipping further and further away with every word her uncle spewed, and Shanks had no idea how to stop it.
“You know the family stories, niece, and you’re smart enough to figure out which ones are true,” he chided.
Cedrick would have lost his hand when he tapped the tip of her nose, but Shanks was frozen.
“Your daddy turned down the chance to help the Pirate King’s apprentice build the next ship to conquer the Grand Line. Arbo could have made history, but he decided not to because his ‘widdle numbers girl’ cried about some gods damned tree.”
…
“Wha-what?”
She was so good at hiding, so it felt like his soul cracked when her voice did. Horror and shame filled the Emperor of the Sea when a daughter’s grief shone in those beautiful eyes.
“It had to be fifteen, nearly twenty years ago now, wasn’t it?”
He sounded fucking jolly while he ripped both of their hearts out.
“Yeah, I think so,” Shanks coughed, caving when the man gripped his shoulder a bit harder.
“Well, I don’t have the same qualms as my dear brother, so I might be willing to butcher an Adam Tree. Only for family, of course.”
Unshed tears were balanced in her eyes, and she seemed to be turning herself into a statue before she’d let them fall.
There had been time to tell her. Shanks’ mind flew through a list of excuses for why he hadn’t, why it wasn’t a good time, how she’d been going through too much to tell her a story about her dead father. Yet this whirlwind of a woman had cleared away his old disguises, so he could no longer believe his own lies.
I didn’t even think about telling her. All I cared about was getting what I wanted.
I’m no hero.
“I was wondering if that’s why you joined the game,” Cedrick smirked. He squeezed Shanks’ shoulder one last time before releasing him, but the relief was lost when the next words spilled from that evil mouth.
Shanks watched every bit of movement on her face now. He watched his selfishness curdle around her, poisoning any slim chance he still had to gain her trust.
“All the players are going for the One Piece, so Red Haired Shanks is back to get his miracle ship,” Cedrick taunted, his eyes glued on his niece. “And now he can finally teach the little brat that cost him his boat a lesson. I wonder if my sentimental brother would have chopped down that tree if he knew his favorite daughter would have to spread her—“
“What about you?”
“Excuse me,” Cedrick turned toward the growl, his brows raised a bit.
He’s not nearly fucking scared enough.
Shanks paused too long, but the second the asshole started to tilt back toward her, the pirate started talking. He had no idea what to say, but he knew he had to keep that piece of shit from looking at her again.
“Families help each other out,” Shanks flirted, feeling like he was swallowing venom with every moment he smiled at this monster. “So, what about you? How could I help out my new family, if I were so lucky?”
“I have a few ideas,” Cedrick purred as he leaned back in his chair. His eyes were relaxed, and slow while they scanned over him, as though he had all the time in the world to make an Emperor of the Sea wait on his every word. “I think that’s enough business for today, though. Let’s get back to pleasure.”
Cedrick Sylvad forced them to toast at that, and Shanks couldn’t understand how his niece had kept all of those tears from falling. Y/N’s cheeks were dry, and she smiled at him when their glasses touched. It was a perfect smile, welcoming, alluring, and sweet.
It was a death trap.
~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
Every time Shanks walked into a tavern, he knew he might meet his death. Would it be with his weight in alcohol, or with the slim hope for a golden eyed grim reaper tucked into a corner booth?
Shanks had gotten stronger before, but since a few stupid words had taken all the joy from his life last year, he couldn’t focus on anything else.
Beautiful death sounded pretty good, but all he kept finding was booze.
Until tonight.
“Hey, Hawk Eyes.”
“Hmm? Here to interrupt my lunch,” Mihawk noted, boredom radiating from him. “How delightful.”
The new Warlord of the Sea could feel the difference in power in his former opponent. He could see the muscles born of years of holding a sword in the redhead’s forearms while he carried two heaping mugs, invading his table again after four years.
Mihawk could see the dim light of this sticky tavern glinting off of that lovely sword.
“I prefer wine,” he drawled, returning his gaze to his book while he tried to catch the man’s heartbeat over the noise. He’d have to get closer for that, but it was an unnecessary risk.
That sword deserved a true fight.
“More for me then,” Shanks shrugged, gulping down one of the beers while his enemy sighed.
“If you’re not serious about challenging me, then kindly leave me to my reading.”
Shanks reached for the hand that held the book, but it withdrew so fast, danger in those golden eyes now as they narrowed on him.
“There’s the monster I remember," Shanks raised his mug, drinking in the sight before him.
Dracule Mihawk pulled his feet down from the table, and set his book aside, never taking his eyes off the pirate. Adjusting his jacket looked like an instinctual habit, the maroon fabric and floral patterns seeming out of place on a killer’s skin.
“Do you shave your sideburns all pointy like that, or–”
“Are you suicidal, rookie?”
“What do you care,” Shanks scoffed. He couldn’t stop himself. He didn’t want to. “You’ve been looking forward to killing me, haven’t you? And I don’t see any blood on that big sword of yours, so you must be bored here.”
Mihawk wanted to stay bored, but this pretty pirate, and his ugly hat were getting on his nerves.
“I’m sure one of the local drunkards could grant your death wish in a back alley brawl. I don’t need to dirty my blade on weak blood like yours.”
Oh, but he wanted to.
And the red haired captain could see it. Just the slightest curve of those cruel lips, a faint intake of breath when he stretched his arms above his head, that dangerous gaze caught on every mark of training on his body.
Shanks was fucking high on it, and he wasn’t going to let it end so soon.
“I’m here to challenge you, Hawk Eye Mihawk,” he smirked, finally free of thoughts as thrills shot through him. “I’m here to end you.”
“You’re here to try.”
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
It’s okay. You’re okay.
Soothing words were bad.
Not real. It’s all pretend.
Uncle Cedrick was talking again, lording over the lunch that had been laid out along the beach today.
The beach where you’d begged him to touch you last night.
Not real.
Nothing matters.
Fake is fine.
Not real. Can’t feel.
“Come now, niece, don’t keep the hunters waiting!”
He handed you bit of cloth, and you had no idea what the fuck to do with it. Reality reformed around you, and you found your suitors lined up on the sand, watching your every movement.
You held up the flag and dropped it down, grateful that you’d guessed right when most of the men started running toward the waves.
“Good afternoon, Y/N,” came a deep, deep voice that almost pulled you free.
“Hi, uh… Hello, Katakuri,” you shook beneath his gaze.
Oh yeah. Maybe this gentle giant will crush me to death tonight. That might make things easier.
“I was hoping that since it’s our night tonight, I might be able to sit with you today?”
“There’s no rule against it,” your uncle shrugged, snagging his drink to raise it toward the crimson haired man above. “Don’t ignore your other suitors though, niece. They’re putting in a lot of work to win you today.”
The portable screen that had been set up between some of the larger vehicles caught your eye. It showed Giberson lounging with a cocktail, sticking his pasty toes in the sand while he waved at the younger men running past.
Thankfully, the cam snails shifted their focus to your other suitors, their powerful bodies gleaming while most of them tore their shirts off before diving into the waves.
It was hard to enjoy the view with that glaring, red hair always hogging the screen.
I bet he’s a fan favorite, that fucking—“
“Do you like sweets, Y/N?”
“I’m sorry,” you choked, head twisting to meet those stunning eyes.
“I’ve noticed that you don’t seem to like the food they’ve been serving here, and since I was hoping to make something with you during our date tonight, I want to be sure you’ll enjoy it.”
Katakuri was shielding his eyes from the sun to look down at you, and you felt a stupid bit of guilt for ignoring this seemingly sweet man that came here to own you.
“I love sweets, I’ve just been so nervous,” came another lie that was true. “It’s hard to eat when I’m nervous, but if you promise to share with me, then I can’t wait to—”
“Well, Emperor, that’s not quite what we were looking for,” Uncle Cedrick teased as he followed Shanks back to your table.
“I found what I was looking for,” he rasped, going to a knee beside you. Your image on the screen held you prisoner, just as he planned to do.
Shanks’ title had never suited him so well. The Emperor of the Sea was drenched, his red hair gone dark, clinging to his face and neck. Drops of the ocean fell from the ends to pour down his body in hypnotizing lines. His chest was almost always bare, but the way his skin glowed under all that salt and sun turned his body into a work of art, something to gaze upon and enjoy, and you fucking hated him for it.
Monsters should look as ugly as their souls.
“I realized I didn’t bring you a gift last night, and I had to make it right.”
You heard the sand shifting as Katakuri moved closer, but Shanks held your gaze.
Those soft, brown eyes held nothing but lies.
“A beautiful shell for a beautiful girl,” he breathed, wincing slightly when your uncle joked for the crowd, lamenting how “lovey dovey” things might get if all the hunters tried to spoil you.
You had to accept his gift.
It was a large conch shell, and it was beautiful, with spirals and spikes laid out in gentle colors.
“Listen to it, Y/N. Can you hear the ocean?”
“I… Yeah, I can,” you nodded, holding the shell up to your ear. Distant music filled your mind, and you shoved the memories down. Luckily, a trail of dripping suitors was headed toward you, and you were grateful for any excuse to stop looking at him.
You were so fucking close to smashing that spiky shell into his face.
“The deep, blue sea loves its creatures so much that it sends its ears along with them.”
“Uh, thank you? I–“
“And the winner of today’s hunt is Prince Fukaboshi!”
Shanks had no choice but to move when Uncle Cedrick grabbed your elbow to guide you to another small stage, riding it into the air beside you.
The merman prince looked like the God of the Sea.
His spotted tail made giant patterns in the sand as he floated toward you, shaking out his light blue hair before you came close to his glinting smile. His teeth.
Shark. He’s like a shark.
“For you, Miss Sylvad. I hope that whatever this treasure is brings you as much pleasure as your company brings me.”
So very carefully, Fukaboshi’s massive fingers placed an ornate wooden chest on the platform in front of you, and a look from your uncle sent you to your knees to open it up.
Salt water and seaweed poured out, sending chills over your skin before you reached inside. The treasure was hard to identify in the soggy container, but soon you held it up for everyone to see.
Everyone could see you while you stared at the intricate ship in a bottle, your dad’s signature redwood still painted on one of the sails.
“Thank you for finding this for me, Prince Fukaboshi,” you praised, teetering on the edge of tears again. “I… I haven’t seen it in a long time.”
You hadn’t seen one of his little ships since you’d smashed a few of them to pieces ten years ago. The rest had been hidden away before the spoiled heiress could destroy them all during another tantrum.
More of dad’s perfect creations that he’d lovingly stuffed into a pretty cage.
The world swerved, and by some miracle, your shaky hands placed the bottle back into the chest, closing the lid with a soft thud.
“Are you feeling well, niece,” Unce Cedrick crooned as he laid his hand on your back, painting the picture of a loving family.
“Yes, uncle, thank you,” came your soft, gracious voice. Your Sylvad smile was the only armor you had against the onslaught of eyes.
“I feel perfect.”
~~~🌲🌲🌲~~~
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
It was the perfect fight. The perfect dance.
“Where was this fire back then, Red Hair? This rage?”
“You trying to distract me, Hawk Eyes?”
Shanks pressed all of his weight against that powerful blade, their swords scraping against each other like deadly instruments. Mihawk had that huge weapon tilted down for an attack he couldn’t finish, and the younger pirate laughed as he caged him in against a tree.
“There’s no need,” Mihawk growled, his body singing with the first true challenge he’d faced in years. “You’re still an overconfident, little boy.”
“Well, this— gods damn it, really,” Shanks groaned, unable to rub the pain off of his face with all of his strength holding his sword against the other. “Aren’t you a fucking swordsman? Head butts don’t seem that honorable.”
“A true fighter knows when to be flexible,” Mihawk taunted, finally slipping from Shanks’ hold.
Perfect.
Any of his previous opponents would have been sliced in half by his quick recovery, Yoru gliding through the air like a bird of prey.
Yet this man parried the attack with hardly a second to shift after Mihawk’s escape.
And he was smiling.
“I told you we’d be having fun.”
“That’s what you’ve been training for all this time, Red Hair? You’re willing to die for a bit of fun?”
“Aren’t you?”
Their taunts grew breathier as the clash of blades went on, but soon they both carried feral grins, laughing at every near miss. They didn’t notice all the trees they knocked down, or the creatures of the forest that fled into the golden glow of the coming sunset.
This perfect dance had lasted for hours, but it could have been seconds or days to them.
The dancers lost themselves in the sounds of bodies and blades, in the strength and will of their beautiful enemy, and in the sweat, blood, and dirt that only made them seem more like beasts, hungry for more.
Until the end.
“Do it.”
Mihawk couldn’t believe it.
He’d slipped. Hours and hours of sweat and blood dripping through his fingers made him slip just enough for his enemy to slip through.
I should have wrapped the handle better.
The swordsman huffed a laugh at his own arrogance. He hadn’t had to worry about sweating through that fabric in years.
“Laughing in the face of death, huh,” Shanks asked, holding Gryphon to the Warlord’s throat. He’d pinned the man down, his weight pressing his enemy into the rough ground.
“I’m waiting for death, Red Hair,” he sneered, stretching his neck to give the man a clearer target. “Get on with it.”
“Now why would I wanna do that,” Shanks rasped. The chaos in those pretty eyes was hypnotizing.
Shame and fury almost broke the man loose, but all he could do was seethe while blood started to trickle down his throat from his movements.
“If you don’t finish this I’ll—“
“Make a deal with me,” Shanks purred, leaning close to breathe his bargain over those snarling lips. “I want you to live, and get stronger, so we can have even more fun next time.”
“If you don’t end this now, I will kill you sl—“
“Slowly, right? Sounds like fun to me.”
He freed the monster, collapsing onto the ground beside him to laugh, and wince with the pain of their dance.
This feels good.
“Tomorrow. You die tomorrow, Red Hair.”
The Warlord felt pathetic spitting the threat from his back, but he tilted his head to find that shiny, bloody smile again.
“Tomorrow it is,” Shanks agreed, before diving into even more dangerous distractions. “What about tonight, Hawk Eyes? You got any plans?”
“You are truly magnificent, you suicidal fool,” Mihawk laughed, a lovely sound from those cruel lips. The redhead wouldn’t stop beaming at him, and something in him snapped.
Mihawk couldn’t stop laughing, even through the soreness, even when his ridiculous enemy joined in.
“What do you say, swordsman, wanna go grab a beer?”
“I prefer wine.”
“Whatever you want, loser—mmnf.”
“I will kill you tomorrow,” Mihawk sneered, rolling to hold Kogatana to that pretty throat.
“Let’s go celebrate your victory then,” Shanks winked, his jaw shifting in playful challenge. “Do you prefer red or— It’s red, isn’t it?”
“So perceptive in your final moments,” Mihawk drawled after too long a pause, but he helped his enemy off the ground.
He walked beside the man that could have killed him. That should have killed him.
This isn’t safe.
Mihawk tried to listen to his instincts, every muscle in his body screaming for him to take down the smiling threat at his side.
Yet all he could do was follow that red, unable to look at anything else.
~~~
“What are you doing,” Mihawk growled, shrugging off Shanks’ touch when they entered the tavern.
“Don’t you wanna clean your pretty clothes first,” he teased, before nodding his head toward the hallway he’d tried to pull his enemy down. “My room’s this way, and it’s got a nice bathroom we can use. We look pretty fucked up, Hawk Eyes.”
Shanks leaned in again, his lip scraping through his teeth just a bit. Just enough.
Fuck being safe.
“Getting cleaned up is going to take awhile,” Mihawk gave in, returning that heated stare. “How many bottles can you carry?”
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🐊🤡🐊🤡~~~
Shanks had finally figured it out, but the weight of nausea wouldn’t leave. Buggy knew she’d wanted him, he knew that breathing, but listening to Shanks touch her when he didn’t know how she felt was…
“You need to get some sleep, little clown. Do you… Did you wanna sleep somewhere else?”
Crocodile tried to sound light, as though he’d be fine with an empty bed knowing that his clown would be whimpering in his sleep like he had every night since she left. There was a growing awkwardness in the air since that private date started, and he didn’t know how to quash it, or if he had any right to.
“No, I don't,” Buggy admitted. That scarred face seemed so careful, as though the man were holding still so he wouldn’t spook him. With a sigh, Buggy knew it was probably true. He let himself be swallowed by that comfortable, deadly warmth again.
Holding him close, Crocodile fell through his own mind.
At some point, he had lost sight of his goals. The greed of how to reach them made him lose the vision, and ultimately lose it all. How many other things should he have protected instead of destroyed? How could he ever balance the scales with those he wanted to keep?
“Hey, boss,” Buggy cleared his throat, lips twitching nervously when he turned to look at that frightening face, unreadable as stone. The tension in his body was pretty readable though, and it didn’t seem like either of them would be falling asleep anytime soon.
“I know it’s late, but do you, uh… wanna call him?”
~~~🤡🐊🤡🐊~~~
~~~~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
They set their swords down.
Mihawk had almost walked away, but Shanks tossed his sword out of reach first before backing into the bathroom with a crooked grin, and an open bottle of wine in each hand.
“You comin’?”
The Warlord followed, not knowing if he could see the other man as anything but an enemy, even for a night.
The bottle of red helped.
“Here, let me help you with that.”
“It’s fine, I’ve— fu-uck!”
An absurdly large splinter had pierced into Mihawk’s lower back sometime during the fight, and although the two men had been staring at each other while they showered, they hadn’t touched until Shanks saw him struggling with that invasive bit of wood.
“This little thing hurt that bad, huh,” Shanks teased as he tossed the splinter, reaching for the first aid supplies the bartender had shoved at them when they walked in dripping with blood.
He soaked a swab in alcohol, and pressed it to the small wound before the swordsman could dodge him, and the desperate noise he let out made Shanks’ jaw drop.
Mihawk turned away, grabbing a towel to tie down his body's reaction before leaving the redhead in the bathroom with his mouth still hanging wide.
“I’ve got some extra pants you can—“
“I’m not wearing your ugly pants. They look like an old lady’s couch.”
Shanks snorted, admiring the sulking Warlord that was cleaning his already clean blade.
“No pants then. I can live with that.”
“Is this what you wanted all along, Red Hair? I would have have fucked you on the tavern table if you’d just asked nicely.”
Shanks had left his towel in the bathroom, and his body’s reaction to those words was on full display while he leaned against the doorframe.
“I don’t think losers get to be on top, Hawk Eyes.”
Rage was back.
“And I don’t think I can wait until tomorrow to kill you.”
“Come on, friend,” Shanks dared, taking another swig while the hissing monster held that tiny blade to his throat again. “Let’s have some more fun.”
Who moved first? Neither could tell, but however it started, nothing in the world could stop them now.
That kiss between rivals sparked another dance that would last for hours.
Another fight that left them snarling and breathless, throwing taunts back and forth while they tore each other apart.
Another battle of strength and will to see which man would fall to the other.
“You truly believe you can take me,” Mihawk laughed, shoving his opponent against the wall hard enough for the wood to groan, and the dust to shake loose from the shelves beside them.
“I believe you want me to,” the redhead taunted. It felt so good to be lost. “You keep hunting for someone who can. I bet you’re just dying to get fucked into the ground, aren’t you? Want me to hurt you?”
He fisted into that soft, black hair, yanking the man’s head back. That pathetic moan was music to his ears, and his cock was dripping with the need to shove it into the swordsman already.
“And what about you,” Mihawk growled. He grabbed onto Shanks’ pulsing cock, and laughed when his knees nearly buckled. “You’re so obsessed with fighting me, trying so hard to fuck me. Willing to die for some fun? I’ve never met such a desperate whore.”
And they were kissing again, with Mihawk laughing into Shanks’ mouth while his cruel fingers made his enemy whine.
“Gods, if you’re gonna be such a sore loser, I guess you can take the win,” caved the redhead, breathless and aching to let this man clear his mind for as long as he could. He stumbled over to his bag, and tossed his rival a bottle of lube.
“Knew this was what you wanted,” Mihawk purred, already fisting the cool liquid over his swollen cock before bringing the bottle to his opponent’s waiting body. “You even came prepared.”
“Never know who you might run into at a— ooh, f-fuck. Mm, you’re so good at that.”
Mihawk smirked while his fingers tore so many noises from this gorgeous man, adding and stretching while he taunted him.
“I’ve never fucked someone I planned to kill the next day,” he threatened. That tiny smirk on the redhead’s lips was a challenge, and he needed to make this smug, little pirate beg.
Gods, he’s so pretty. He—
Shanks’ eyes rolled back, whatever he’d planned to say disappearing when the swordsman pierced him. Rough, angry, owning. Exactly what he needed.
“Hawk Eye— Hawk. Fuuck, you feel so fucking good, baby.”
“This it, huh,” he snarled, shoving Shanks’ thigh toward him with one hand, and grabbing that whining throat with the other. “Are you a little toy made just for me? Following me around until I sink my blade in you?”
Oh, those golden eyes. Shanks could have died right then, letting this man have him, but he didn’t want it to end. Didn’t want him to leave.
And he just couldn’t help himself.
Mihawk had never made that sound before. He had his prey beneath him, flushed and desperate, those soft, brown eyes almost broken.
Then there was pain.
He didn’t know what was happening until he saw that fucking smirk, but it was too late.
Shanks had found that little wound on his back, and dug his nails in.
He looked so fucking smug before he followed his lover, arching his back while he came across his chest and stomach. It didn’t stop him from making Mihawk twitch and moan with sharp pleasure from the pain he kept twisting into his skin.
They both whimpered and gasped while Mihawk kept fucking his come even deeper. Shanks’ nails in his skin were the strings of a marionette, controlling him, owning him.
It felt unreal.
The Warlord wanted to be angry, wanted to punish the grinning lover he still pierced, but he couldn’t think.
Just a little while. A little while longer without thinking, until the enemies were taunting and teasing again, another round of showers to clean a different kind of mess away.
It felt…
It wasn’t safe.
“Where ya going, loser?”
Shanks’ high dropped fast, almost as fast as Mihawk climbed back into his fancy clothes.
He didn’t want it to end.
“Sleep well, rookie. Tomorrow’s your last day.”
~~~⚫⚫⚫~~~
~~~
~~~⏰🗡️🔴⏰~~~
~~~~~~
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
“Can’t sleep without me, clown?”
“No, shithead,” Buggy sneered, and Crocodile’s deep laughter poured through the transponder snail until Mihawk felt an almost smile touch his lips. “You’re an agent now, and we’d like an update.”
“Of course, Mr. President,” he teased, though he felt heavier with every breath. “This very late night update is that I’m floating on the sea.”
“Where did you end up heading first,” Crocodile interrupted Buggy’s grumbles, and his lovely voice sent guilt coursing through Mihawk’s veins.
“With these conditions, I should make it to Majiatsuka by this time tomorrow.”
“That’s the, uh,” Buggy groaned in thought, with the sound of rustling paper accompanying his noises.
“That’s one of the island kingdoms around Dress Rosa, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Buggy answered Crocodile’s question, while Mihawk stared into nothing. “It’s right here, but that’s– You’re not gonna check out Whole Cake first? And Germa’s creepy boats are parked to the east. Which suitor lives–”
“Mihawk.”
He couldn’t speak.
“What’s wrong,” Buggy asked, quiet after Crocodile’s rage.
Until he found his own.
“Are you fucking STUPID? We don’t have a plan! I can’t believe you, you BATSHIT CRAZY fucking asshole. I’m gonna–”
“Explain,” Crocodile ordered, that dangerous purr ending Buggy’s rant. “Why are you going to the estate?”
“I’m going near the estate,” the swordsman cleared his throat, grateful that there was just enough room on his boat to pace. “I’m sorry I wasn’t truthful, but I didn’t quite lie. I’ll still try to gather intel to thin the crowd, bloodlessly if possible.”
“You do realize the sheer amount of manpower between you, right? The fucking surveillance?” Crocodile’s voice was edged with that dangerous disappointment, that waiting rage. “Hells, he probably already knows where you are with how much the Marines–”
“I can’t take it! I can’t take another fucking second of this!”
Nothing but the wind in the sails.
Nothing but his ragged breathing, and his heart that was too fucking loud.
“Mihawk,” Buggy asked softly. True softness for the man that had tortured him, tormented him, taken and used his lover like a fucking whore. Mihawk couldn’t understand the forgiveness he’d been given.
He didn’t need it anymore.
“I’ll try, I will, I swear,” the swordsman vowed, not sure if he was telling the truth. “But I need her!”
“Little prince–”
“I don’t want to force her. I don't ever want to force her again. I want to respect her wishes, and wait until we know what she needs, what she wants… but I don’t want that. Not really.”
Mihawk gave a hateful laugh, nearly choking on his self loathing, but his rage would stop spilling out.
“I want to go in there, and grab her, and slaughter everyone on that island! I want to kill everyone that’s ever fucking looked at her! I want–”
“Hey, crybaby, you think I don’t fucking want that,” Buggy fumed, death in his voice.
“That’s why I’m doing this,” Mihawk slumped, not knowing when the tears began. “You deserve her. I’ll try not to go in there unless there’s no other way, but I need to be close.”
“What are you talking about,” Crocodile breathed.
There wasn’t enough room on this boat to have these emotions, and Mihawk had to clench his fists to keep from tearing it to pieces.
“I need her, but I’d rather she hate me than… I’ll be the monster, so you don’t have to. I think I can live with her hate if I know she’s with you. With someone she loves.”
Nothing but the waves.
“The security is still fucking vicious,” Crocodile rasped, anger draining from his voice. “And with the suitors’ people, and Sylvad’s pet Marines… That’s a lot of armies to fight.”
“I’ll be fine, and she already hates Shanks, so he can do whatever he has to,” Mihawk sighed as visions of violence soothed him. “The two of us should be able to tear the place asunder. The Cross Guild will need to relocate if it comes to that though. Probably disband, and go into hiding. You can take her somewhere. You can take care of her.”
“Shut the fuck up, you’re not doing this! She wouldn’t want—“
“Buggy, I’ll try to wait,” Mihawk pleaded, surprised that he still wanted permission. “Please, let me be the last resort. Call me if something happens, and I’ll bring her back to you. I’ll be the monster. Let me… please.”
The swordsman could hear his silent clown, those desperate breaths echoing through the night air.
That silence dragged on too long, and he couldn’t get her broken laughter out of his mind. Her uncle’s threats that Buggy had scrawled and crumpled in his rage and despair. The wound she had dealt him when she left. How perfectly cold her eyes had been.
Until she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“I think she was telling the truth,” Buggy whispered, hardly breaking the silence. “She wanted to go, even though... I don’t think she’ll forgive you.”
“I know. She shouldn’t.”
“Are you trying to be selfish, or selfless, little prince? Because either way, you’re fucking doing it wrong.”
The swordsman let out his own broken laughter, ducking into the small cabin to find a bottle of red.
“Listen to me, bright eyes,” his business partner urged. “If you need to be out there, then do it, but don’t do this.”
“Don’t drink and sail,” Mihawk asked, popping the cork to pour the fine wine down his throat.
He didn’t want to taste it. To observe the colors. He didn't want to notice the hint of plums, or the lack of his little bloodhound that he had wanted to taste the world with.
“No, don’t be a fucking idiot,” Crocodile sighed. “Don’t act like you’ve already lost her. You don’t know what you’ll be able to do yet, or how she’s gonna feel. Our sweet girl is fierce.”
“Of course she is,” Buggy agreed, a steady faith in his voice that Mihawk envied.
He had changed too late.
“Don’t throw your heart away because you don’t think you deserve it.”
His scarred lover had touched the truth too close, as though the grief in those words wasn’t just for him.
“You’re not gonna find a way if you think you’ve already lost, so if you’re gonna do this, then quit fucking around. Find out what our girl wants. Get her back. Convince her to stay.”
“But—“
“And you’re gonna work with us,” Buggy cut in, sounding brighter, his rage shifted back to annoyance. “We’re getting my star back, and I’m not gonna let you take all the credit, asshole.”
The World’s Greatest Swordsman was drifting alone on his one-man boat again.
Not so alone.
“You’ll call me if…”
“If we need a monster, you’ll be the first one I’ll call,” his clown promised, bringing a wave of sick relief at the thought. “But this whole sacrificing yourself for our happiness shit is fucking lame. Can you try not to be so dramatic?”
Silence. Nothing but the water.
Nothing until the laughter started. Warm, deep laughter at their tearful swordsman, and their dramatic clown that joined in with a snort before they all forgot what they were laughing about.
“I’m sorry I lied, daddy,” Mihawk breathed, suddenly cold at the thought of sleeping.
“You’ll get your punishment. Just fly back home, little bird.”
“And stop being such a dumbass, please,” Buggy groaned, sounding squished as though a massive arm had curled around him.
“No promises,” Mihawk laughed, “but I will try… Thank you.”
The Cross Guild said their slow goodnights, leaving the swordsman on that quiet sea.
He drifted alone on his one-man boat, but this time he floated between his distant lovers, knowing that he had always been right. Love isn’t safe.
Fuck being safe.
~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~
Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!
Author's Note: So I went a little wild here. Writing Mishanks' backstory felt like utter self indulgence, so I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did! I love all of our fucked up boys so very much 😭 Who's ready to make some sweets with Katakuri though? 🍩😏
Fic Updates & Extras:
Special thanks to the commenter who referred to Shanks' pants as "grandma couch patterned" a few months ago, it has lived in my brain rent free. I can't find the comment on tumblr or Ao3, but you have my eternal gratitude for making me snort every time I see him and his stupid fucking pants now 😅🙏🏼
I've included a timeline below with OP Canon and Numbers Game events in case y'all would like to see where all the flashbacks line up. I left out any events that gave away the Reader's age for those that don't want to see that, but I'll make a separate post with more details for those that do.
You have no idea how much I reduced this timeline, lol. My actual timeline is full of a ton of canon details since I plan to reuse it for other fics, and I of course left out the Numbers Game spoilers. I only brought this version up to six years before the current time because I'm still cleaning up the rest of my notes, but I'm happy to share more later if you're interested.
I apologize that I don't have the timeline in text format yet. I will be adding that soon since images aren't accessible for everyone. Please let me know if you'd like that so that my adhd brain doesn't forget!!
The vast majority of the canon details were compiled by the sweet, glorious, super heroes at the One Piece Wiki, and The Library of Ohara. I would be lost without them!!!! 🙌😭🙏🏼
I'm basing the Numbers Game geography off of This Map by xads181 on Reddit. It is absolutely stunning, holy wowzers! 😍
Do you know how little fucking time it takes to get between most of these islands? I thought my timeline was going too fast, but Oda really just had them speedrun their adventure while we take 25+ years to watch it. I love him so much 😅💜
Numbers Game Abbreviated Timeline ~ 6-52ish years ago:
I made this timeline using Miro if you're interested. It's got a free or paid version, and it's been helping me so much. (I completely ignore the AI (🤢) and collaborative features, but the mindmapping and such is just so good!) Writing this long of a fic with so much to keep track of was wild in my messy, poorly titled google docs list 😅
Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000 | @mercymccann | @horse-and-writer97
Part 34
Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.
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