Summary: So much love and happiness everywhere.

Are you sick of it?

What's wrong with some darkness in love stories now a days? Let's have some fun~

Doflamingo: Dark King
Mihawk: Hades
Lucci: Cat Demon
Crocodile: Witch
Smoker: Death
Shanks: Siren

Dark Music Above

WARNING: ALL DARK DRABBLES DEAL WITH VERY DARK THEMES FROM VIOLENCE, GORE, TRUE MASSACRE EVENTS, SELF HARM AND OTHER FORMS OF ABUSE, PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAUMA, WITCHCRAFT, BLOOD, MENTAL MANIPULATION,  AND DEMON CONTRACTS.

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

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He was a man with a darkness in his heart and a void ingrained in his soul.

And yet you loved him.

He killed hundreds and hundred of people out of mere whims, whether it was an uneven road or if someone looked at him wrong, their blood would spill as quick as a blink.

And yet you loved him.

He killed his own brother in order to remain in power, to still have this kingdom he built on lies and deceit.

And yet you loved him.

As he stared at you expectantly with a glint in his eyes, those beautiful eyes that have seen the worst of humanity, with his arms spread out as if to showcase his land behind him, you stared back. In silence. You paid attention to his mouth.

The mouth that always purred out many lies and ordered innocents to be killed with a smile. The mouth that is always upturned in a cheek splitting smirk, one that would hurt your eyes from looking at it as well as a shiver. The mouth that whispered compliments to your ear about your beauty and innocence. The mouth that marks your skin with roughness yet honors you in a way no one else could. The mouth, when near you, is a careful small smile that brings a need in you to hug the man. The mouth, when near you, does not hold false statements and lies and masks of deception, but shows just how far he hides behind fake smirks. The mouth that just makes you hope that it can move and cause others to look in wonder like you do when he speaks.The mouth, when near you, that has a frown or a straight line as his eyes look at you in thought.

The mouth that is now teetering between an arrogant smirk to a worried frown. You flicked your eyes to his beautiful ones, that are usually hidden behind tinted glasses, which are looking at you with growing concern and nervousness at your silence.

'Poor, poor boy,' you thought sadly. 'Always got what he wants since he was young except for a family who loved him since their death. Poor, poor boy,' you repeated,'inside a man's body yet always been a lost child.'

You said your answer.

His eyes burned and the world followed.

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

He came to you in a field of bright flowers of your own making.

It was beautiful, mesmerizing. Filled with so much color and light that he thought he would turn to ashes just from looking at you. The Underworld is not like this, like you. Always dark, cold, and filled with deceased tortured screams or lost souls. Never sunshine and smiles with all the colors one could imagine. He observed you in the shadows before, golden eyes always trained on you and the way you just looked free when you ran from your Nymph friends. This time, however, he wishes to see what made you be like this.

Wild. Free. Sunny.

And then you turned to him, a careful smile upon your face, eyes twinkling with a flower crown on your lap.

"You finally came out," you said, eyes warm and his golden orbs widened. "I was wondering when you would. I thought you'd be in the shadows just looking at me the whole time." You giggled, a sound he wished to hear more of. He did not care if you were laughing at him, if he can make that sound come out of you, let it be so.

You stood and walked towards him with a tentative yet confident gait, flower crown in hand and smile upon your face as you finally stood across from him, a mere foot away. If he'd just stretch his arm, he'd be touching you. If he's stretch his arm, he can take you away forever and keep you. He stayed his arm and looked down at you.

"I'm glad you're here. It gets lonely by myself out here sometimes." Your smile quirked up some more, it looked bitter.

"Don't you run?" You looked up at him, and blinked. "You run away from your friends don't you? Why?" He repeated, curious.

Your bitter smile turned up again, eyes far away.

"They don't get me." You then tiptoed and tried to reach his head to put the flower crown. The mere sight of you trying to reach made him laugh, which made you huff in frustration. He lowered his head to help you, and the crown laid upon his head gently. Your warm fingers touching his scalp to make sure it stays before you pulled away, leaving a trail of heat in his head and a want in him to be touched more by your hand once more. The God of the Underworld, wrapped around the finger of this Goddess of Spring.

And as the both of you conversed for a long period of time, on and off with each meeting, and seeing just how similar the two of you are, he grew to care less and less about that fact. One day you came to him, eyes desperate.

"Take me with you!" You pleaded. He grew confused, but this could be the only chance. With one question from him, and an affirmative nod from you, he took you to his realm, and you became His Queen.

You were right when you said people don't know you. For he may be the God of the Underworld, but you were the Queen of the Underworld and gave the most gruesome punishments a normal man couldn't even think. Not even he.

And he loved you for it.

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

"Be my friend until I find someone to love please!"

He remembered your plea while crying and sniffling disgustingly, with blood all around you. You had the decency to use your own blood instead of a pig's or another wretched creature of God's world, scarlet red marker on the floor with his symbol. He thought nothing of it at the time, he saw an easy tasty meal and accepted.

He gave it three to five years for this contract to be finished.

He was so wrong. Turns out in his so far nine nearing ten years being here that human love is fickle and hard to understand. He truly didn't understand why you had such a hard time to feel, humans feel don't they? He's a demon so he doesn't understand. He commented it about it in passing, as they sat in the warm coffee shop, bundled in clothes with his human form watching the other humans with his dark eyes. You stared at him, lips upturned. His eyes narrowed.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. It just seems you don't understand much about this world." Your eyes crinkled and you showed your teeth, what you would call a smile. "It's cute, Lucci."

You said his name. His true name. He thought it didn't matter to give it to you since it would be a short contract, but it's not and it does matter and he hates it when you call him that. He openly snarled, making some humans in the cafe jump and stare at the noise.

"You know not to call me that. I shouldn't have told you my original name."

"But you did. It's a shame though, you don't know what makes a person feel." Your lips turned down at that, (e/c) eyes flicking to the side in thought. He scoffed and commented it didn't matter, such things made all creatures weak. You just frowned more, and denied it.

"If that was true," you said, eyes heavy as you stared straight at him, unflinching, "you wouldn't have helped me rescue that kitten in the side of the road. And help me take care of it to this day." Dark eyes strayed to the side.

"Don't be ridiculous. I was just helping my kin. Any demon would."

Lies, he thought in distaste. True demons would care less about blood relatives or their kin, only would point and laugh and torture.

He felt your pointed stare as he still looked away, out the window seeing the humans do their mundane and bleak lives as they walked the streets.

"True, but you're not any other demon. Your Lucci." He flicked his dark eyes to your expression, which was soft and easy to look at. Not that always depressed expression you always had.

This time he didn't correct you. His stomach growled.

Time passed some more, and New Year's Day came. Lucci stood by the window of your apartment and watched the bright explosions in the sky. And instead of you going out with the friends he helped you make, you stayed. His stomach growled in agitation on how difficult you were making this to be, you then came out of your room, and your already strong scent overflowed his senses. His mouth salivated and his demon tail flicked back and forth. You went next to him and stared out the window, he held back his hands that wanted to reach out.

"Why haven't you yet?"

His eyes widened and he looked down towards you. Your eyes were filled with acceptance and melancholy as you stared at the fireworks. "You know don't you? That I fell in love."

He frowned. "And yet you can't say it to their face?" You flushed and bit your lip, an action his eyes followed. The action made his stomach want you more. He believes it's just his stomach. You turned towards him, eyes in tears and going down your face like the day he found you with your blood all prettily around you just for him.

"I love you Lucci."

He still didn't really understand that word. Didn't understand 'love' and what it made you do or not do. He didn't get it. Of course he wouldn't, he's just a demon.

But he understood enough. He grabbed you towards him roughly that you could only drew a brief amount of breath before laid his lips upon yours and ravaged them like a human should've done to you a long time ago. You were still crying and shaking but he had to get his point across so he took you to your raggedy couch as he still nipped and marked your lips and neck as you took in short breaths and let out moans that only made your soul even sweeter. He ravaged you all over, slowly taking you in as you cried and cried. Cried that this was happening, cried that he's showing his love for you in the only way he can, you cried with your whole life.

The one thing that Lucci understood was that you were his, he thought, as he held your limp body with his stomach full.

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

Crocodile doesn't believe in superstitions. He only believes the things he's figured out for himself throughout the years through experience and books in this fast moving world that now has cars and machines where you can hear voices come out of them called radios.

So of course when one of his subordinates  of his 'Family' told him there's a witch that can have visions and make prophesies, of course he would look at him annoyed at the fact one of his own is delusional and trying to pass on his madness. That, and skeptical. It only took Mr. 1's, or rather Daz, to confirm Mr. 3's-San's- words. Saying that previous people have gone to her, and they are now professional businessmen with more money in their pocket then they possibly need.

So he went from the Bay Ridge part of New York City, to surprisingly Manhattan. He looked at Mr. 1, who only shrugged.

"Witches these days don't seem to live in shacks sir." He said in answer to his silent question. They stood in front of a seemingly innocent and well stocked bookstore which was the first floor of this three floor building. They went in and they were greeted with a humming woman moving this way and that as you put books in their appropriate shelves. You looked over at them with a smile, fixing your glasses daintily.

"Well, well~. What do I have here?" You lowered your glasses as you looked them up and down, in a way that Crocodile found was not appropriate. You were looking specifically at him, eyes sparkling with mischief. "It seems you guys aren't here for books, but a different sort of knowledge. Come." And she went up the stairs only flicking her fingers forward before she continued. Crocodile looked at Mr. 1 as he did to him. They followed, with you only calling out it can only be Mr. Crocodile.

His nerves jumped wildly at you knowing his name, wondering and guessing on how you would know unless rival mafia's came here before him. He followed you up the stairs. Only for him to immediately come up behind you as you looked at a book with a false smile facing the wall, his hook inches from your face.

"How rude~."

"How do you know my name?" He demanded more then questioned and you only giggled in amusement. It made his skin prickle.

"How can I not? You know my business don't you?" You turned towards him, ignoring how he could cut you up with a mere swift of his arm, and leaned forward to his chest. "I have magic you men don't understand. That's why you came here." Your hands fluttered around his chest, smoothing out his suit, still smiling knowingly.

He stepped back, even though he still felt your touch, your teasing touch all around him. Do all witches look like a seductress? He doesn't know. Crocodile looked at you, frown marred on his face.

"I want to become the boss of all bosses and get rid of all competition around me with the other families." He spoke with ambition, with power and want behind his eyes you couldn't help but notice.

You hummed, turned back to the book. And gave a riddle he still has to figure out as he sits back in his home, servants already asleep and in bed as he sat awake in thought. Only saying afterwords that he must come back twice until a final deal is made.

"Find the family that is most free of blood,
And nip them by the bud,
For they are not as innocent as they seem,
A rat hidden amongst your high esteem."

A few days passed, and he did what he thought was correct. He made sure the rookie family with the young boss would never come back to Bay Ridge, only for them to accidentally spill about a certain blue haired beauty. Who knew he had a young noble among his Family. He didn't even have to think on what he did to her next, and so he came back to your bookshop alone this time ,with you greeting him with a smile as you circled around him. Not many have the nerve to smile at him.

"My, my, such a smart man we have here. And quick too!" You stopped behind him touching his shoulder as you leaned, he felt your breath against his ear. "You didn't even hesitate did you? How heartless." Your tone turned low and he felt your hand move along his shoulder close to his neck, he slapped your hand away with a grunt.

"I hope you do not think for a second that I will be your source of payment, which we didn't even discuss yet." You pouted, stepping away from him and just went back to organizing books.

"Trust me Sir, you're just a bonus I'm hoping to get when we make our deal."

"Which is what exactly?"

You peered over at him, (e/c) eyes behind lashes too long with a look too knowing. "Not much for a man who will have everything when this is over. Now, come, come. You want to get the next one yes? I made coffee upstairs so let's go~."

And so they went upstairs, his mind whirling on what kind of payment you would wish. Surely it'd be money, how else you'd be able to live so lavishly? But, you're a witch. You're immediately different from everyone, with your sparkling eyes and constant smile in his intimidating presence. How many men have fallen for that, he wonders, as he sits and listens to you babble. It is only with a look of his you say what he wants to hear, and goes home to go to work for this long-term prophecy.

"Let blood and tyranny flood the streets,
With men and women and children failing to compete,
Games of lies and Tommy's will win the battle,
Let snakes rattle, and birds fly away, with fish swimming in decay,
Only the cursed man will see the day."

It took almost two years but in 1931
Castellammarese War finally ended with him on top and his enemies either all dead or with their tails between their legs away from Bay Ridge or anywhere near New York City. He was half tempted to not go back to the witch for everything he wanted came true, but he hates unfinished deals so he went back to your little innocent and peaceful bookshop in Manhattan. Long ways away from the bloody war, the stress free paperwork of planned funerals and orders of assassinations, and when he entered you still greeted him with a smile and an excited beat in your step as you walked and stopped in front of him with hands behind your back.

"Hello~! It's been awhile Sir Crocodile, would you believe me if I missed you?"

"Yes, because you're a strange little thing who does not know personal space." You blinked innocently.

"Whatever do you mean? I'm not touching you am I?" You leaned forward, tiptoed, and they were almost nose to nose. The only thing he could do was smirk in response to your boldness. Your eyes followed his action, an emotion flickering behind your orbs only to go away as quickly as it came.

"We should go upstairs," he voiced and your eyes flicked back to his silver, turning half-lidded, as he leaned towards her ear, noticing her shudder from his breath on her surprisingly sensitive neck, "There's still some work to do, right Miss (Y/N)?"

You made a pleased hum and stepped back, a secret smile that used to make his skin prickle but now only made his blood pump excitedly.

"Yes, we should." And so they went upstairs, into your lavish room as two bodies met together again and again, bed creaking, grunts and mewls heard all around that he was certain the buildings over would hear. When morning came and you told him if he was ready for the last prophecy, he denied it.

"What?" You looked over at him, sitting up on your bed with your chest out, marked all over by his making and still looking striking. He grunted, eyes closing, warm underneath the covers.

"I became what I wanted, there's no point for another one. Just state your payment."

There was silence. A few more beats of silence passes before his eyes opened to see your face in bored disappointment. It confused him more then irked him.

"I already got it. You may leave now." You stated matter of factly, knowing eyes, always knowing, looking at him. And in his carelessness and arrogance of him becoming the Boss of All Bosses and uncaring of what you were, he left with not much of a fight.

A few months later, you woke up to the newspaper of Sir Crocodile found killed in his perfect little mansion, gun in his hand. You smiled secretly, and drank your coffee, a pink feathery coat around your naked shoulders with tanned hands hugging your waist on your bed.

Men truly will never understand magic, nor how cursed they become if they don't go through with deals.

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

Death first met you when you were in your mother's womb. She was panting and struggling and pushing to no avail in the hospital room, life going in and out of her eyes. He felt pity, as he looked at his watch, seeing her death coming closer and closer with each second. He looked back at her, saw her desperation, and decided to withhold her death for one more minute.

That's all it took. You came out crying, mother dead with a smile, and father crying from either years of joy, sadness, or both.

He turned away, smoke curling all around him as humans passed through him to try to reach your mother, and turned to silver nothingness.

He'll just get your death another day, you can't cheat death.

Years passed, and there was a plane crash. One hundred and fifty six deaths during Christmas time, every family, every elder, and every child. Only a four year old survived, found by a firefighter when they saw an arm poking out of a seat, burns all over.

You.

Death was confused. You cheated him not once, but twice. The second cheat much more impossible then the first, a full plane crash from midair, explosions and fire and smoke to take you out.

He stood over you, as the paramedics treated your burns, broken bones, and cries. He tilted his head. Your whole family died, along with the father who had treasured you like a rare gem. Turns out protecting you with his whole body saved you.

Death frowned. Looking at you with your body and soul, still filled with life even after all the life threatening injuries you hold. Possibly able to take you away any second, and yet you still remained strong in your cries. Fighting.

He turned once more and became smoke, noting to himself to watch you more closely.

Elementary School shooting, twenty children shot between the ages of six and seven along with seven other adults, all dead.

You happened to be in the restroom.

You broke in tears when you found out some of your friends died, yet you were still alive, still healing from your scars of two years ago, still fighting.

Movie theater, twelve killed in a shooting in the showing of a midnight premiere. You were there, the way you survived is by putting dead bodies over yours, their blood smearing your face and hands. Blood everywhere, so many screams. You did not scream, you laid and pretended you were dead.

You weren't, Death knew, the shooter didn't.

You lifted your seventeen year old body up when your rescuers came, eyes haunted, yet still filled with life. Still fighting. Even though death was all around you?

Why were you? Death wanted to know, so he became your shadow, a silvery shadow in the background that you would never see.

He observed you laugh, smile, moving about, creating or doing sports, anything that showed to him that you were just filled with an energy so opposite his own. When you were alone, finally living independently from family friends, you'd get a look he would see. And a knife. Perhaps you do this because of his very close presence? Would you continue if so? Would you die?

You didn't. You stopped when you had a breakdown, crying and crying. Wailing and screaming, ugly tears going down your face like the day you were born.

Death reached to wipe them away, only for his hand to pass through. His teeth clenched, smoke curling around him at the action. Why would he even try? He knows you can't see him, yet.

Yet. Death yearns for you, yearns for your life. You're like his exact opposite. You are Life. Everything he's not, you were down some days yet you had the strength to get out of bed and keep going, despite everything you try.

He loves you for it.

And he wants you for it.

So when you took a family of your own, he made sure to take you away from them. How?

By giving birth of course.

Dying the way your own mother did. There was a beauty to it. When he told you all this, your soul in his hand, you raged and raged.

You cursed and spat. And you cried, and cried. Like the day you first came alive.

He smiled the only way he could, and kissed your tears, those lovely tears filled with life.

Oh, how he loved your life.

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

You were chasing the Red Haired man for awhile.

He knew of course, he'd smile and wave each time they landed ashore and saw your head above the ocean. He'd see you tailing them, often talking to you from afar with those wonderful talks about friends and family, and you'd tell him you don't have none.

He grinned like the sun.

"I can be yours if you promise not to eat me!" He laughed and you smiled prettily, tail moving back and forth in the water to keep you above the water.

"Of course not." You replied, and he accepted.

His crew tried to warn him to keep away from you, the Siren. Known to eat and entrap sailors with their Song, but you don't sing the Red Haired would reply. Which is true.

You do not sing.

You become friends with men, ooing and awwing at their accomplishments, helping them with overthrown sailors by the powerful sea, finding extra fish for food for them. You listen to the Red Haired man and his dreams and ambitions, sometimes able to touch him if he's in a pier or rowboat, trying to comfort him. For the Red Haired man wishes too much, you believe.

One day, he came to you excited, bright smile nearly blinding you. He swam all the way to you without you even asking for him to come so you can listen more closely. He said he accomplished his dream, and you oooed and awwed as you listened like the friend you were and he got close and kissed you out of excitement.

You smiled darkly, and pulled him down, down, down.

You become friends with men, in order to get closer to your meal and smell how good they are. You faked your 'ooos' and 'awws' so their ego would grow big, so they would make easier mistakes. You'd help them in order to gain their trust in you. You'd feed them so they remain full and nutritious to eat.

You may not sing, but you still use the Siren's Song. The Song filled with Lies.

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Happy Valentine's Day~!

Not very happy, I know. But I wanted to do something different, so here!

I hope I didn't scar any of you too badly!

If I did, I apologize, but I did put a warning before the chapter started. Don't underestimate my warnings.