A/N: Greetings, minna! This is gonna be a fairly long author's note because I've got a couple of things to explain here before we get started.
1. This is a canon divergent AU - AKA set in canon but with some marked differences.
2. Doflamingo in this is based on Silva's headcanons, and is EXTREMELY OOC as compared to canon because he was developed before the Pirate Alliance Saga when we didn't have much of anything to go on for his personality or history. So please check out Piratelorddoflamingo on Tumblr for more info about her specific headcanons.
3. Crocodile is a transman, but for visualization and plot purposes, this fic will use she/her pronouns for him.
4. Full warnings because they don't fit in the tiny description: Imprisonment, Torture, Psychological Trauma, Mildly Dubious Consent, Unplanned Pregnancy, Trans Character, Mpreg Technically, Blind Character, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Minor Character Death, Angst with a Happy Ending
And finally, this is number 1 of 2 fics for the OP Big Bang. It's posted in full over on my AO3 if y'all don't wanna wait for me to update here, but basically what that means is the fic is finished, Beta'd, and ready for posting entirely! I just don't wanna throw the whole fic on here at once because it's a lot of work. 27 chapters worth. *wink* So, sit back and relax, if you've made it this far. Enjoy~!
"Toying with the government gets you nothing good, Doflamingo. Even if you are related to the Tenryuubito." The guard's voice was cruel, and the slam of the cell door echoed with finality the way the very sentence itself had replayed over and over and over again in the former warlord's mind.
The air was cloying and chilled, cooled by the floor above, and the shouts of other prisoners made a cacophony of noise that served to stir every pirate held captive in the infamous prison. The creak of pipes with barely held-back seawater rumbled ominously under the din, though both failed to cover the sound of sharp footsteps approaching the sprawled form of the former King of Dressrosa. Too light to be male, but too sharp to be any female Don knew, the hands—no, hand—that reached down to grasp his shoulder was hard, calloused as though it had spent a long time performing manual labor. But there was a layer of malleability to it that told of years of soft life too. It was hard to tell the difference.
"C'mon, bird boy, up you get. I've someone who can help." Her voice was similarly hard, and a heavy coat of some kind of fur wrapped about the large blond man's shoulders smelling of arid heat and above all... sand.
OH. Oh god no, not him, not- not like this! He wasn't supposed to know; nobody was EVER supposed to know—
"Don't-don't waste, waste your time on me. Keep your coat- you get cold even easier than I do, you shouldn't."
But he couldn't resist how he buried his nose in the collar of the coat and inhaled deeply. His senses had started ratcheting up since the cuffs went on, but he was still very nearly helpless. And of all things, he didn't want THAT person to see him like this, not this way where his secret could be so easily uncovered.
"You'll be warm in a minute. Can you walk? They haven't fucked you up more than you already are right?" The fingers that had been on his shoulder now gripped his chin and turned his head from side to side, obviously she was inspecting him. "No head wounds that I can see."
The scent and chill of seastone brushed his cheek somewhere near her wrist, and she pulled it back before he could get a decent feel for what it was.
NO! His hand lashed out, sweeping until it found something to grab onto and he did, not knowing or caring what exactly he was clutching.
"I can probably walk. I'll stumble a lot but I can walk. It's been so long, I forgot how weak in the muscles you get after seastone is applied," he breathed quickly. "They knocked me around a little, but didn't fuck me up."
The form in front of him was still, solid as it only ever was under Haki or... seastone, but strong as always. There was a calculated silence. "I see."
There was something in her tone, something confirmed, and she made no move to remove the puppeteer's hand from her shoulder. In fact, she brought her own up to rest on it as she turned her back to him.
"Hold onto me and I'll guide you through the passages. It takes some getting used to, but after a few weeks you barely notice it anymore." That had the resigned and patient tone that Don was used to. She was biding her time for something, a plan of some sort.
"Ah, I'll um… Have to take your word on it," he said with a weak imitation of his usual laughter as he rose onto shaky, wobbly legs and let his eyes close.
It wasn't like they were any use to him anyways.
"Y'know the stupid thing? I didn't even do the thing they arrested me for. I've spent the last month lying low and quiet. So they hauled me in, for once, on charges I'm innocent of."
"They are particularly intrusive. All shichibukai have had their statuses revoked, and you will find multiple people here that you would not have expected. I'm sure you're aware that Magellan is no longer Warden. It has nothing to do with our escape before the War of the Best. There are... well, you'll see."
Her steps told the large man that they had passed through a hidden door, though when it had opened and closed was uncertain, and they were in the bowels of the prison.
"There are two rules you must follow at any cost before we enter the hidden level. One, do not antagonize anyone. I know, odd words to hear from me, but it is important to the success of everything. And two, people who were once your enemies are now your friends, and many who were once your friends are now your enemies. Your name will not save you, and nothing you have done up to this point will ever matter to the people we need to remove. So, don't even think about trying to double cross anyone. Even them."
That was frightening- no, that was TERRIFYING.
The status quo had all changed about. Allies and enemies… he didn't know which was which anymore—and he was fucking helpless thanks to the seastone.
He couldn't actually control himself well enough right now to keep that terror out of his voice when he replied softly, "Okay."
She stopped, and the feeling of warm air swirled at the edges of their senses. She turned and drew her hand down the side of his face, wiping away something liquid; blood, sweat, tears? He couldn't tell. Then she spoke, her voice soft, the tenor she only ever had used in the deepest of dark nights when she thought he was sleeping and couldn't hear her. "There is hope, Don. We're still more powerful than them, and we will get out again. If public executions didn't stop people before, rounding us all up and locking us away won't do it either. Just... trust me."
"I do. You don't have to ask for that," he replied honestly, but he was still shaking, and so was his voice. "I'm just... everything went to Hell in a handbasket so fast."
And he didn't want to say it, but even his physical strength was almost useless without his strings to guide him.
The air about her settled, the opposite way it did when she reached out, and were it not for the seastone, the air would have become much, much dryer. She seemed to come to a decision though, and turned back around to lead him through the other door. This time as she did so, there was an exchange, mostly silent but for the subtle shift of space between two people. Then they were past, and it was much warmer. There was the sound of people milling about, several gasped, and a murmur rippled through what sounded like dozens of people.
"Oi! Back to it!" She growled, the voice of a leader snapping over their heads like a whip. "Kid, wh ere's Ivankov? He needs his hands free."
"Ivankov's off with his Okamas," the young male voice replied crankily. "They're 'recharging' him with food and drink and... I don't even wanna know what else. But I'll go get him." There was a sound of a bulky body heaving to its feet, a stutter- a stumble- before the heavy boots clomped away.
Don swallowed thickly. "They got Kid too? I thought he was in the New World already."
"More than Kid." The woman grumbled, her words aching for the comfort of a cigar by the way her tongue rolled in her mouth. She took a deep breath, "Fuck. If Ivankov's off 'recharging' then the only other option is him. C'mon."
She kept her hand on the newest member of their troupe, subtly guiding him in the direction she wanted to go. As they walked, her heels click-clacked on the stone floor, and the room grew a little cooler. There were murmurs raised behind them, and she twisted more than once to glare at the naysayers. Mostly there was disbelief, but also no small amount of wailing, a cry of hopelessness that if the great Donquixote Doflamingo could be caught, then what did that mean for the rest of them.
Don's sharp ears caught them all, and he winced a little lower with each comment. All it had taken was one seastone bullet to hit its mark and- it didn't matter he'd dodged hundreds, that he'd wiped out three base's worth of Marines, it didn't matter he'd managed to evade the traitorous bastards for almost six months. All it took was one bullet while he tried to gain air, and he had been done for.
He wished they'd have let him drown.
"Ignore them, they're idiots." She growled under her breath, and stopped in front of what was obviously some sort of alcove from the way the air bent and flowed. "Mugiwara, where's your cook?"
Don flinched at the same time he bolted as upright as he could get. Strawhat was here?!
"Mmmmm..." The sound was drawn out, and definitely the Strawhat captain. "He can't take 'em all the way off..."
"I know, I remember the deal. Just get his hands free. I'd have gone to someone else, but they're busy." Croc snapped.
"If I didn't know better, I'd think you cared for him, Mr. Zero."
The woman beside him tensed, so much so that she vibrated slightly under Don's touch, but said nothing as a new set of footsteps approached them both, the scent of tobacco and spices assaulting their senses.
"Think before you speak, Aly-chan. You've another two weeks to go before Ivankov will even think of changing you back." The person, much shorter than Don, seemed entirely too collected for the situation they were in, and his voice was smooth, like old Jazz from a dusty record. "The rules are simple. You are welcome to join our cause provided that you agree once we're out in the world again to fly Luffy's flag above yours. You'll be freed of your shackles, but because of how strong you are, you must retain a single seastone cuff to prevent you from thinking of double crossing us. Food, drink and amenities will be provided as we have them, with preference going to those who've been here longest and are most loyal to Luffy. For now, consider yourself lucky if you get an actual bed to sleep on and a blanket of your own. Other than that we expect everyone to be respectful. We're all in this together, and if any one of us wants to live to see the light of real daylight again, we need to work together."
"I think he gets the point, Mr. Prince." Croc growled again.
But Sanji pressed ahead anyway. "Are we clear?"
"As clear as one can be," Don replied slowly, and he really, really wished he could get both cuffs off. Maybe if he could find a rock shard sturdy enough to use as a lock pick.
It was clear enough to him that Crocodile had already made this deal. That being the case, he saw no other choice available but to respond in kind, and he took a deep breath, wincing when that aggravated his wound.
"...I'll take it."
So he had to start over, from the ground up. Fine. He could do that. If he could answer to and survive a Master when he was just nine, he could do it now. If nothing else, he knew that no worse could ever be done to him than he had already endured.
After this, he didn't think he had the heart to keep being a pirate anyway.
Assuming he even survived.
There was an exchange made silently between the chef and his captain that almost had the sand user stepping in again, but then Sanji exhaled as though he had a cigarette, "Put your hands out in front of you as far apart as you can hold them."
Don did, holding them perfectly straight, the powerful muscles in his arms bulged a bit as he pulled the chain between the cuffs to its maximum length, until it creaked a little. It hurt though, very badly, and it took only seconds for him to start to tremble.
Sanji wasted no effort on actually calling a name for the strike of his heel against the metal, but the sound was off. Even though the chain snapped, shattering up on side all the way into the cuff itself, there was no sound of a shoe hitting the ground afterward. In fact, the man's footsteps were entirely wrong, flapping against the stone like... he was barefoot. Croc didn't give Don a chance to explore it though, she stepped between the Strawhats and the puppetmaster, pulling his hands together to brush the crumbs of seastone off of his right wrist and drop the broken links of chain still trying to hold onto the left cuff to the ground.
"Aly-chan~!" Sanji's voice warbled in a facsimile of his usual over-exuberant affection. "You will join us for dinner won't you?"
On Don's wrist, Croc's hand tightened and her teeth ground together, but she managed to hiss, "Of course..."
"Of course, what? Aly-chan."
"Mr. Prince-san."
"Ah, such a delicate desert flower, if only you were always this way. Until tonight, beautiful Aly-chan~!"