summary: The wedding of Glinda and Fiyero is here. Everything is perfect until the best day of Glinda's life, becomes her worst nightmare. However, that pirate with red hair is there to save her from her doom.
pairing: pirate!shanks x glinda!reader
music: anymore - jeon somi
Two days had passed like a breath in Ozland, and the kingdom had never been so alive.
The streets, usually elegant and calm, were now a whirlwind of color and noise. Pink and white garlands hung between pale stone buildings, shimmering ribbons danced in the sea breeze, and confetti floated endlessly, sticking to the hair of children running through the crowd with laughter. Musicians played cheerful melodies on violins and accordions, while street vendors shouted offers for star-shaped sweets, sugar bubbles, and small wooden wands imitating that of the famous witch Glinda.
People laughed, toasted, and sang. Others cried over Fiyero and Glinda, for they would no longer be single. Ozland looked happy—perhaps too happy.
At the heart of the kingdom, a wide esplanade had been transformed into the stage for the royal wedding: rows upon rows of white seats with golden details, pink and lilac flowers forming arches, and an elevated platform from which the kings would witness the union. Everything had been designed to dazzle… so no one would look beyond.
Inside the castle, far from the noise, Glinda stood before the mirror.
Today was her wedding day.
The young woman smiled at her reflection. She wore a long white wedding gown, made of soft, shining fabric that fell like a cascade to the floor. The corset was delicately embroidered with small silver details that shimmered with every movement, and the sleeves—thin and transparent—adorned her arms as if made of light. The skirt opened into elegant layers, giving the impression that she floated even while standing still.
Her makeup was flawless: soft lips, rosy cheeks, and subtly defined eyes, while her blonde hair fell freely over her shoulders, lightly wavy, naturally framing her face. A simple yet radiant white tiara rested upon her head.
Glinda inhaled deeply.
“Today… today my path to becoming queen begins,” she whispered, more to herself than to the mirror.
There were nerves in her chest, yes—but also excitement. This was the destiny promised to her since childhood. The destiny of Glinda, the Good Witch of Ozland.
King Albert entered the room and froze at the sight of her. His eyes immediately filled with tears. For a moment he said nothing, simply gazing at his daughter—the little girl who had once run through the castle halls pretending to cast spells… now a woman about to be married.
“You are… beautiful, Glinda,” he finally said, his voice heavy with emotion.
Glinda turned toward him with a warm smile, “Really, Father?”
Albert nodded, stepping closer to take her hands. “I’m happy for you. Happy to see you move forward… to see you fulfill your role in this kingdom.”
She gently squeezed his fingers, unaware of the faint shadow of worry that crossed her father’s face before disappearing.
Elsewhere in the castle, far from the light and flowers, Fiyero stood alone. He carefully closed the door and pulled a blue Den Den Mushi from his pocket, its expression serious. Holding it close to his face, he spoke in a low voice.
On the other end, a distorted voice answered without hesitation:
“Everything is proceeding as planned. The bombs have already been placed throughout different parts of the kingdom. No one suspects a thing.”
Fiyero smiled faintly. “And the grimoire?”
“We’ve found its hiding place. It’s sealed… but there’s a problem,” the voice paused. “Only Glinda or the king can enter. Some kind of ancient barrier. It doesn’t respond to anyone else.”
Fiyero’s eyes gleamed with interest. “Then there’s nothing to worry about,” he said calmly. “I’ll take care of bringing Glinda there.”
He closed the Den Den Mushi with a soft click, a cold smile spreading across his face.
The wedding was not the end of the plan… it was only the beginning.
Meanwhile, in the streets of Ozland, Shanks and his crew moved through the crowd.
Lucky Roux walked along eating carefree, Yasopp kept a sharp eye on their surroundings, and Benn Beckman advanced with his hands in his pockets, analyzing every detail with a serious gaze. Around them, people celebrated, unaware of the pirates making their way toward the kingdom’s center, where the wedding would take place.
“I can’t believe we’re about to see a wedding,” Lime Juice commented.
“It’s all so cheerful it gives me chills,” Hongo murmured.
Shanks looked up, observing the decorations, the laughter—everything seemed perfect.
“Well, boys,” he said quietly, “let’s enjoy the wedding.”
A few minutes later, Ozland was gathered in expectant silence—a strange silence for a kingdom accustomed to laughter and noise. The heart of the realm, decorated with white and pink fabrics, cascading flowers, and benches filled with citizens, seemed to be holding its breath. No one spoke aloud; only excited murmurs and the soft flutter of banners beneath the clear sky could be heard.
Glinda walked down the central aisle, holding her father’s arm. Her white dress fell in delicate layers, softly gleaming in the sunlight, and her blonde hair framed a serene, beautiful face. With every step, citizens bowed their heads—some placed hands over their hearts, others whispered among themselves about how beautiful she looked, how perfect their future queen was.
To Ozland, Glinda was not just a bride—she was hope.
At the altar, Fiyero watched her. His smile was flawless, rehearsed… but his eyes held no love. There was something cold and calculating in them, as if each of Glinda’s steps were another piece fitting perfectly into a carefully constructed plan.
Among the crowd, Shanks and his crew remained alert. They did not laugh, drink, or speak. Shanks looked up just as Glinda did. Their gazes met for an instant that seemed to last longer than it should have. She didn’t know why her heart skipped; he didn’t understand why something stirred in his chest—an old, unfamiliar feeling. Shanks thought, unwillingly, that she looked beautiful… too beautiful for a day that felt so heavy.
At the altar, Glinda’s father stopped. His hands trembled slightly as he took his daughter’s hand and placed it into Fiyero’s. He smiled, proud and emotional, unaware of the tension thickening the air. Fiyero squeezed Glinda’s hand and smiled at her—charming, perfect for everyone watching.
The priest began the ceremony. His words rang out clearly and solemnly, speaking of union, promises, and a shared future. Glinda listened, trying to calm the nerves tightening her chest. Everything was going according to plan… or so she believed.
The moment for vows arrived.
The priest turned to Fiyero and asked him to speak.
That was when Glinda noticed it.
Fiyero’s smile changed—just slightly, enough that only she could see it. A twisted, dark expression, completely alien to the man who claimed to love her. Before she could react, he leaned toward her ear and whispered in a voice dripping with malice:
“Oh, Glinda, you’re so innocent and beautiful. But you can’t stop them… you can’t stop the boom…”
A dry, repetitive sound began to echo.
Explosions tore through Ozland one after another. The ground shook, decorations were hurled into the air, and the sky filled with smoke and fire. Screams erupted alongside the bombs—panic, terror, confusion. Citizens ran in every direction, calling names, crying, falling.
“Watch out!”
“Glinda!”
“Princess!”
Her name echoed through the chaos.
Glinda felt the world spin, the noise fading into a distant roar. Smoke burned her lungs, her legs gave out beneath her. The last thing she heard before losing consciousness were desperate screams, the thunder of explosions… and rough hands grabbing her arms and dragging her away.
The explosion shook Ozland as if the sea itself had risen to devour it whole.
“Get down!” Shanks shouted, reacting on pure instinct.
The ground trembled beneath his feet. Stone columns shattered like old biscuits, fragments of the altar flying through the air. Shanks covered his head as massive chunks of marble crashed around him; the roar was deafening, screams mixing with fire and dust.
The crew responded instantly.
Benn Beckman moved through the smoke, eyes cold and calculating. He studied the craters, the shockwave directions, the timing of the blasts. “It’s not a single bomb, boss. They’re spread out. This was planned to cause maximum damage.”
Lucky Roux was already in motion, hoisting injured people onto his shoulders as if they weighed nothing. “Easy, easy! Follow my voice!” he shouted, using his massive body as a shield to protect children and elders from falling debris.
Hongo knelt among the bodies, hands stained with blood, trying to save anyone still breathing. “Breathe—don’t close your eyes! Come on, damn it…!”
Lime Juice scanned the area with Bonk and Monster. “Damn it.”
From a higher vantage point, Yasopp narrowed his gaze, ignoring the chaos. “Boss. I don’t see active attackers… but something’s wrong. This was only the beginning.”
At last, the thunder stopped.
The silence that followed was worse.
Shanks slowly stood. The center of Ozland was destroyed. Where there had once been laughter, flowers, and music, there were now ruins, fire… and bodies. Dozens of them. Civilians crushed, burned, motionless.
“Glinda…” Shanks whispered, remembering the princess.
His eyes searched the shattered altar. There was no sign of her. Nor of King Albert or Queen Jules.
“Find the kings!” he ordered, running through the wreckage.
He found them not far away, buried among fallen stones. Albert and Jules lay on the ground, covered in blood, barely conscious. Shanks dropped to his knees beside them.
“Hongo!” he shouted. “Over here!”
The medic rushed over, knelt, and examined them. It took only seconds. Then he closed his eyes… and shook his head. “I’m sorry, boss. There’s nothing I can do. Their organs are completely crushed.”
Jules slowly lifted her gaze. She smiled weakly when she saw Shanks. “Shanks… I’m glad you’re safe…”
“Don’t talk. I’ll get you out of here,” the pirate said urgently, rising—only for the queen’s hand to stop him.
“Take care… of my daughter…” she coughed blood. “Glinda is… egocentric, unbearable… but she’s a good girl. Don’t let them… break her… take care of my… little girl…”
Shanks clenched his teeth. “Your Majesty…”
Albert, with great effort, placed a bloodied hand on Shanks’s arm. “Shanks… save her… take her far from Ozland…” He coughed violently, tears spilling from his eyes. “Find the grimoire… Glinda… is this kingdom’s last hope…”
Shanks’s eyes burned. “I’ll find her. I promise. I won’t let anything happen to her.”
Both kings smiled. “Thank you…”
The rulers of Ozland looked at each other one last time… and their hands fell lifeless.
Shanks remained on his knees a moment longer. Then he slowly stood. His fists were clenched so tightly they trembled.
He turned to his crew, his face grim, his gaze blazing.
“Let's find the princess.”
In a dark, unknown place…
Glinda awoke with a sharp pain in her head. The floor was cold. She tried to move, and the sound of chains answered her.
“W-what…?” she murmured, dizzy.
She looked at her bound hands. Her wedding dress—once pretty—was torn, stained with dust and blood. Panic surged through her. What in the world had happened?
“Father?! Mother?!” she cried, her voice breaking.
A slow, unpleasant laugh echoed through the space.
“What a disappointment… I thought you’d wake up crying louder.”
Fiyero stood before her. He was no longer dressed like a prince; his false elegance was gone. His smile was twisted, cruel. Around him, several men with filthy gazes and rusted weapons watched her with sick interest. Pirates.
“Fiyero…? What… what is this?” the princess whispered.
“This,” he said, crouching in front of her, “is the truth—and who I really am.”
Glinda stared at him, stunned.
“I never loved you, Glinda. I only needed the ‘witch’ to reach the grimoire,” Fiyero said with a malicious grin.
Glinda’s world shattered as tears fell. “W-what…?”
“Oh, honestly, it was far too easy,” Fiyero laughed. “Just a little attention and you were already in my arms.”
Glinda glared at him with hatred. “I hate you!”
Fiyero smiled. “There’s that brave side of you—I like it.”
And Glinda did something she never thought she would do—she spat in Fiyero’s face.
Fiyero wiped his face and, without hesitation, slap the princess hard across the cheek.
Fiyero laughed. “Not bad, princess. But don’t get smart with me.”
“Why are you doing this?” Glinda asked through tears. “My kingdom has shown you nothing but love and care since you arrived.”
Fiyero shrugged. “That doesn’t interest me in the slightest. I want to sink Ozland, steal every coin, and show the world that magic… was always just a useful lie.”
Glinda looked at him, tears burning in her eyes, her cheek stinging. “What are you going to do with me…?”
Fiyero stood up, indifferent. “Slave princesses fetch the highest bounties.”
Glinda screamed desperately as two pirates grabbed her brutally and dragged her across the floor. “LET ME GO, SCUM! TAKE YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF ME!”
Fiyero walked ahead without looking back. “Take her to grimoire’s hiding place. Our key has just awakened.”
Darkness wrapped around the passageway.
Glinda walked with trembling steps, her hands still bound, the cold stone seeping into the soles of her feet. Behind her, the edge of a sword pressed into her back, reminding her every second that there was no escape.
“Don’t try anything stupid, witch,” Fiyero whispered venomously. “One wrong step and you won’t make it out alive.”
Glinda pressed her lips together, holding back tears. Every breath felt heavy in her chest, and her cheek burned fiercely.
The passage descended deeper beneath the castle, as if Ozland hid its truth in the very bowels of the earth. Ancient torches hung from the walls, extinguished for centuries… but as Glinda passed, something strange happened.
The stone doors began to open on their own.
Not with thunder, but with a heavy whisper, like an ancient lament. The carved symbols—curved runes, shattered stars, forgotten words—emitted a faint glow, barely visible, flickering like a tired breath.
“How is it that…?” Glinda spoke, terrified.
Fiyero watched in silence, eyes wide with surprise. This was not part of the plan.
“So it was true…” he whispered. “The magic does recognize you.”
They continued until the corridor ended abruptly before a massive stone door. Covered in moss, cracks, and roots, it seemed more part of the mountain than the castle. At its center, carved with raw power, was a single symbol.
Fiyero shoved Glinda forward. “Touch it.”
The sword pressed harder into her back. “Do it. Now.”
With trembling hands, Glinda placed her palm against the cold surface.
For a moment… nothing happened.
Then a deep rumble shook the air.
The stone began to move. Bits of dry grass, dust, and fragments of rock fell as the door slowly opened, as if awakening from a centuries-long sleep.
Fiyero stepped back, incredulous. “…It opened.”
Inside lay a circular chamber, silent, heavy with an invisible pressure that made the skin prickle. At its center, upon a small altar of white stone, rested the grimoire.
Exactly as the legends described: a thick book with worn green covers, adorned with golden symbols and an ancient lock. It looked old… but alive.
Glinda felt a tug in her chest. The air vibrated softly. The grimoire emitted a faint, almost shy glow—as if it recognized her.
“Come on,” Fiyero growled. “Open it.”
Glinda took one step, then another.
“What are you waiting for?!” Fiyero shouted. “OPEN IT!”
Glinda grasped the grimoire, feeling it react to her presence as it glowed brighter—yet the lock remained.
"OPEN IT, YOU STUPID GIRL"
“I can’t!” Glinda sobbed. “I don’t know how!”
Suddenly, the grimoire went completely dark, leaving them in tense silence.
Fiyero lost his composure. He slammed his fist against the altar. “DAMN IT!”
Breathing heavily, eyes burning with rage, he snarled, “Royal blood isn’t enough… It needs will—and that’s something the stupid princess of Ozland doesn’t have.”
The words hung in the air.
They both understood at the same time.
Magic did not obey crowns.
It did not respond to titles.
It did not choose kings.
It chose decisions.
Good choices.
Glinda stared at the grimoire in fear… and with something new stirring in her chest: doubt, guilt… and curiosity.
Far away, among the smoking ruins of the castle, Shanks ran with his heart pounding. He descended hidden staircases, crossed forgotten corridors, until he stopped abruptly.
The ground trembled slightly beneath his feet.
“Glinda...,” he murmured.
Clenching his teeth, he broke into a run.
“Hold on, princess. I’m coming for you.”
all rights of the images and characters goes to their owners, I simply used them for the story. you can find the images in pinterest.
follow @xfranchulisx for more <3. if you wanna get tagged, please comment! <3
