Okay. We are not going to talk about how long this took me, nor are we going to mention that it's way longer than I thought it would be (actually had to split the original plan cause it would be too long)~
So this is completely dedicated to InspiringLight because I forgot to respond to her letter for like 3 days…and this seems like a great way to make up for that (even though I responded this morning) and of course to Setsuyume for being an absolute dear and editing this for me~
Now on to some serious business.
WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF VIOLENCE! IT IS FAIRLY GRAPHIC! THERE IS ALSO AN UNGRAPHIC SCENE OF ATTEMPTED RAPE. IF THAT WILL TRIGGER YOU OR MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE THAN I HAVE LABLED THE SCENE WITH A BOLD SENTENCE JUST LIKE THIS! JUST SKIP TO THE NEXT BOLD SENTENCE!
Seriously guys. I have had a horrible experience with posting something then being attacked for having a disgusting mind. I refuse to go through that again. So if you can't handle please skip to the bold sentence that says "Earlier on the Moby Dick" there is no more violence after that. PLEASE!
Okay~ with that~
SET SAIL!
It was dark.
Complete darkness, not even the ever present light from his fire gave him any reprieve from the all-encompassing darkness. Probably because he couldn't feel his fire. It was gone, no pleasant heat, no flashes of people or places, just absolute darkness. Something Ace hadn't felt in over a year, and after having some vision back because of the flames, the sudden loss shocked Ace into unresponsiveness.
They put cuffs on him made of the same fire stealing kairoseki that they shot him with to capture him earlier. They even pulled out the bullets and patched him up. For what reason, he didn't know. Marines weren't particularly known for treating pirates well, so the treatment confused him something fierce.
He was still on the deck of the Marine's craft; at least he thought he was. He didn't think they went down any stairs and he could still feel the sun on his neck. Hotter than he remembered but that was likely due to his fire being stolen away from him. He was kneeling in the middle of the deck, probably, his torso bent over his knees, hands cuffed in front of him.
His anxiety levels were rising with every passing second, panicked about what these government dogs wanted with him. His feelings were stopped at the voice of the captain from earlier.
"Well, well, pirate scum, finally in your proper place at the feet of better men. How gratifying to know I put you there."
Ace could hear the footsteps coming from the front; the man stopping right next to Ace's cuffed hands lying on the deck. The teen kept his head down, holding himself back from rising to the taunt, and because he refused to let a Marine discover his disability before the rest of his family did. He only had to suffer the man's presence for a little while. The others would wonder what was taking him so long and would come looking for him. He just had to be patient.
The foot that suddenly stomped on his hands surprised him. The boot was heavy and he could hear his bones creak, the pain was intense but Ace would not allow these dogs to hear his ache.
"Well, pirate," the man spat down at Ace's still bowed head, "looks like we'll have fun ripping screams out of that pretty mouth of yours."
Unlikely, but Ace would give the man props for his acting. Marines were more or less cowards. They couldn't do anything to him that the teen hadn't felt before. He grew up fending for himself amongst bandits, thieves, and thugs. A ship full of marines was like eating something he didn't like, disgusting while it happened, but didn't hinder him at all in the long run.
Ace smiled to himself at his thoughts and buried his head further into the deck, to hide his smile and too further keep his eyes hidden. He would put up with these pathetic high talking marines for now, but he would enjoy lighting their ship ablaze when his family came to get him.
"I think the pirate is hiding something from us, captain." The slimy voice that sent shudders down his spine spoke again, his tone giving Ace the feeling that something bad was about to happen.
He didn't even feel the man coming up behind him until he felt the grubby hand grab at his hair, yanking his head up by the delicate strands. As soon as he felt the tug he squeezed his eyes shut as hard as he could. He'd be damned if he let them see.
"Lemme get a good look at those eyes of yours. Open up, pirate." The way he spat pirate out like it was a disease pissed Ace off. Pirates were freedom, pirates were family.
He felt the man move, still gripping way too hard on his hair. He shifted till he replaced the captain's position in front of Ace. It felt like he was kneeling. The next feeling the teen got was a calloused hand grabbing at his chin, tilting his head up in an obvious attempt to make Ace open his eyes by putting him in direct path of the sun. Well sucks for him that the teen is in perpetual darkness.
Upon the movement not having the effect the marine obviously thought it would, he shook Ace's head by the younger's hair. The teen could feel as strands of his mane were yanked right out of his scalp. But the fire wielder wasn't going to allow them the satisfaction of making him open his eyes. He was proud, and stubborn. He would not beg, he would not cry, he wouldn't make a sound, nor would he ever comply to anything they asked.
"You punk." The man hissed out, hand removing itself from Ace's chin to grab at the teen's eyes. The marine was going to try and pry his eye open. Fuck that shit.
Ace lifted his still sore hands with a sort of lightning swiftness and grabbed on to the lapels of the man's military issued uniform, at least he was pretty sure it was the issued one, and used his hold as leverage to slam his head into the creepy guy's nose. The scream Ace managed to pull from his throat made him want to smile evilly.
"Futhker!" the man wailed, most likely standing again. Hah. Stupid marine.
Ace was a little too lost in his small win to notice a shift in the air around him, so it was a major jolt when something heavy and hard hit him right in the jaw. The blow caused him to fly back a few feet, his torso now bent awkwardly over his kneeling legs, his jaw aching. It wasn't dislocated, but damn. That man must have had some metal in his shoes, no way could that force alone could cause him that much discomfort.
The teen still didn't make a sound though. No matter what he would suffer at the hands of these cowards, he would not grace them with a single slip of his tongue.
"Tsk tsk, pirate. That's no way to treat your betters." Another voice spoke, not the captain and certainly not the creepy man whose nose he just broke. This man's voice was gruffer than both of theirs, and sounded a bit…vindictive?
A large hand wrapped around his own right hand. It was calloused and rough and Ace was confused as to why a marine would hold his hand of all things. He got his answer in a few moments when the man's other hand gripped on to the top of his pointer finger and placed his thumb on the middle knuckle. The teen knew what was going to happen before the man put any force behind his hand.
The man pulled at the top of Ace's finger and pushed his thumb at the knuckle. A loud crack echoed throughout the air as the teen listened, and felt, as his finger was broken. The pain was sudden and harsh and Ace had to press his lips together tightly to make sure a whimper didn't leave his throat against his will.
"We have to make sure you can't do the same thing again, don't we?" the man sing-songed, moving his hand to the middle finger of the same hand as the broken pointer finger. "Are you going to apologize, pirate?"
Ace kept his mouth sealed as he squeezed his eyes closed harder, bracing himself for the pain that he knew was going to come; surely enough the man broke his middle finger as well. Moving his hand again, the man got the teen's ring finger into the position to be broken and asked a different question.
"You won't contaminate another marine with your filthy hands again, will you, pirate?" the man seemed rather fond of repeating the word pirate like it was a curse word. Ace didn't care. This wouldn't be the first time he had broken a finger or three.
The marine continued on, his hands moving place only to break another finger while he asked the teen a stupid question. Until all ten of Ace's fingers were broken, stabbing pains shooting up his hands at every slight movement he made with them. He was biting his bottom lip now, still determined to not let these fuckers get their way.
"Certainly a stubborn one, isn't he?" The captain purred out, disgusting Ace in the same way that the slimy guy did. These guys were truly fucked up in the head.
Ace was still on his back over his legs, facing the sky, eyes squeezed shut, and teeth biting on his bottom lip to keep any and all sounds in. He faintly heard footsteps walk up to him again, and then his hair was once again roughly grabbed and he was yanked back into a kneeling position, head held up by the hand in his hair and some rank breath being blown in his face.
"Won't be trying that again now that you can't move your fingers, will you, punk?" the creepy man spoke right next to the teen's ear, he was obviously the one holding on to Ace's hair again. The teen would admit that the man couldn't be completely useless if he knew that breaking his fingers would cause them to go numb. But the man didn't know Ace, and the teen always took a challenge seriously.
So even with the shooting pain in his fingers, Ace once again lifted his hands with lightning speed and grabbing on to the man's lapels. Using the muscles in his arms, the teen pulled on the other and this time slammed his head into the man's eye socket, aiming to collapse it.
The teen sort of slumped over as the man flew back with the force Ace put behind the blow. His arms outstretched in front of him, trying to distract himself from the pain in his fingers by pulling out the aches from his back and arms. The teen's ears pricked up a little at the following sounds.
Even if Ace didn't manage to collapse the socket, the man was certainly in some serious pain if his wails clued the teen in to anything. He heard some rushing boots and had to hold back from smirking to himself. Idiots. Never underestimate a pirate.
"Wrong move, pirate."
Suddenly his left forearm was on fire. Not the comforting kind of heat from his flames either, it was a deep hurting flare that brought pain shooting through his entire arm. His jaw clenched, and he had to hold back tears as he felt it. A heavy boot was grinding down on his forearm. Ace heard the crunches of his own bone, even through the sounds of the bustling men around him.
When the boot left Ace had just about let out a huge sigh of relief. That was definitely more painful than the broken fingers, even if the fingers were broken over a longer period of time. Unfortunately his relief was short lived.
The same pain that raced its way through Ace's left forearm was now mirrored in the teen's right. The same feeling of a heavy boot grinding down and crunching the bone into the deck followed the sharp stinging pain.
Ace was breathing deeply through his nose as the boot lifted from his arm, trying to calm himself, to keep himself from broadcasting his pain with his voice. He was fine. He could take this. They wouldn't break him. He just had to be patient. His family was coming. They would notice he was late. They would be here soon. He could outlast these assholes no problem.
The teen's resolve was tested not moments later when rushing feet passed him swiftly, every single foot kicking or tapping Ace's hands; which sent a shocking amount of pain through each of his fingers. But, if that wasn't bad enough, the kicks also jarred his arms sending a double amount of the earlier burning pain through his forearms.
"I'm surprised at your tenacity, pirate." The captain spat out, calm and collected as if one of his prisoners, and so called entertainment, hadn't just injured one of his crew men. What an asshole. "But I bet you cannot keep that stubbornness of yours intact forever."
Ace just clenched his teeth, grinding his forehead into the wooden floor, hoping to get himself back in the right frame of mind to withstand this. They may think he has given up, but Ace will not stop trying to fight them. He could withstand their tortures, but that didn't mean he had to take them lying down, dammit.
"I 'ink he 'inks 'e's be'er 'an us, cap'in." a different voice spoke, his words obviously that of a man with no couth and no education of any kind. At least Ace had Makino around to teach him some kind of proper grammar, of course he asked her too but still.
"Perhaps you are right, Lieutenant. Maybe you should reeducate the cur."
The chuckles that followed after the captain's statement rubbed Ace the wrong way. The teen tried to make sense of the sounds he was hearing but his mind was almost completely focused on the pain radiating from his fingers and his forearms.
So the hand in his hair, yanking his head back, was a complete surprise, a painful surprise. What was with these assholes and lifting his head up by his hair? He was being safe by keeping his eyes squeezed shut, but he had no idea what the marines were planning.
There was a pause for a minute, and Ace thought he could feel a sort of sucking feeling from the air being pulled from his face. Maybe like a fist or a foot being pulled away from his head?
"Uh uh. Not his face, lieutenant." The captain's voice slunk out.
Well that confirmed the idea that Ace was about to be hit in the face, with a foot or a fist he didn't know, but for some reason the captain wanted his face left untouched. How odd. But the man with horrible grammar released his hair, his head practically slamming onto the deck of the boat.
"'a's fine, go' ano'er idea an'way. Migh' as 'ell pu' 'hem bu'et woun's to use."
That was the only warning that Ace got before the bandages were ripped from his back and a thumb was shoved into the bullet wound in his abdomen. The teen threw his head back, straining his neck muscles to the max as he fought to hold the pain in and to not scream his head off.
Fuck.
"Wer'd yer pri'e go, pirat'!" the man yelled, digging his thumb in further, causing Ace to bite down on his bottom lip hard enough to taste the bitter tang of his own blood. Dammit, fuck this shit.
"'ink yer be'er 'an us, dun't ya, pirat'?! 'ell ya ain't!" The thumb went in even further and the teen just about gave in to the pain and let his voice out, but then he realized something.
The pain was fleeting.
With more effort than the teen thought he could even put into something at the moment, Ace lifted himself up on to his elbows, being careful not to put any pressure on his forearms, and swung his uncuffed legs. His aim was the asshole with a thumb in his body.
His abs were burning with the effort but the fire user was able to kick the guy right in the temple, a whimper being the only noise he let out before he crumpled to the floor. Ace was up and running in seconds, his aim to jump into the ocean, sure that it was a better alternative than waiting for his family on this vessel.
He didn't have access to his fire so he had no idea where he was running. All he knew was that anywhere else was better than where he was, with those assholes.
A hand grabbed at him, digging his fingers hard into Ace's shoulders. The teen relied solely on his instincts built up from training day in and day out in the jungle with his brothers. Focusing his senses completely on his surroundings, and disregarding any pain he is or isn't feeling.
With great happiness Ace just let himself go. He returned to the kid who was blind and a troublemaker. Who was a wanted teen, who did illegal things and then had to defend himself from thugs. He just let go of his control, and became the wild animal he was before Luffy. And he was glad for it.
Ace swung his leg around and connected his foot with neck of the man who was holding him, forcing the air right from the other and getting him to release the teen's shoulder. The younger kept his momentum going and back flipped away from the fallen marine and in the process knocked out another sailor that was coming up from behind him.
Another arm wrapped around his neck and the fire user swung his body forward, bringing the guy over his head and dropping him on the deck. Ace then smashed his foot into the fallen guy's face, hopefully knocking him out.
Two more sets of arms wrapped around his body from both sides, and now, more than ever, Ace wished he could light them on fire. But he couldn't, so he made due with his pure strength and ability.
He twisted sharply, startling the one on his right into letting go which in turn made the teen immediately shoot his leg out, connecting with the man's private parts. The man let out a terribly high-pitched scream which disoriented Ace slightly but had the plus of making the other marine release the teen's arm as well, holding his ears in pain.
The teen wouldn't have been a pirate if he didn't take advantage of that, so he swung his leg up high, hitting the man dead on in his temple with his heel. The man crumpled without a sound, and Ace stumbled as he tried to reorganize his mental map of the ship from where he ran so far. He stepped away from the panicking sounds of the other crew members, and once again aimed for the side of the ship, hoping to escape into the water. Even though he would drown in seconds without someone nearby to rescue him, and he doubted the marines would go through the trouble after all the mess Ace had caused by now, it was still a better alternative than staying on this boat.
Ace barely got a few steps before he was tripped by what felt like a cold metal pole, not unlike the ones he and his brothers had used back in Goa. He swung his arms up on reflex to protect his face from the no doubt horrible pain of landing face first onto a hard wooden deck. He forgot about the broken bones in his fingers and arms during the sort of battle, and he was barely able to keep himself from screaming out in pain. Tears welled up in his eyes as two sets of hands held him down by the shoulders, another slamming his head into the deck despite his attempt to stop it from happening just a few seconds ago.
"Naughty, naughty, you filthy sea rat. Now we have to make it so you cannot attempt anything like this little escape plan again." The captain's refined voice was spoken near him. The man's tone would feel velvety to anyone in a different positon, but to the trapped teen it felt like coarse burlap.
Heavy steps sounded near him and Ace was morbidly curious as to what they thought would keep him from fleeing. A soft clinking sound followed the steps, sort of as if a light piece of metal was being dragged behind whoever was making said steps. The sound stopped and the teen could feel a sort of slight sinking near his ankles, meaning it was a heavy man, and he was standing right by his feet. This would not be pretty at all.
"Why don't you make sure this little beast won't be able to run from us again, Warrant Officer?"
Ace barely had a second to brace himself before something metal and round was brought down on his ankle, causing a crack to resound. The teen could hear it even with the cheering in the background. What kind of idiot crew stands around and cheers about torturing a prisoner instead of helping their downed comrades?
The fire user's thoughts ran from his mind the second the round metal thing swung down again and hit the same ankle, the pain this time causing the teen to struggle against the two men holding him down. He didn't stop trying to escape from them even as his arms started to burn with the strain or when his wrists started screaming at him to stay still because dammit did the cuffs hurt to rub against!
The thing was brought down once more on the same ankle and Ace just bit into his bottom lip, still refusing to give these marines the gratification of causing him to scream. But his resolve was tested when the heavy man switched to attacking the teen's other ankle.
While the pole-man was busy doing that, Ace tried to distract himself with testing the already hurting ankle to see if it was broken or just bruised. The first attempt answered his question in spades as a hurting fire raced up his muscles at the slight movement, much like what happened with his fingers and his arms.
The man hit his right ankle a total of six times unlike the left's three. If his left ankle was broken with only three hits then his right must be totally shattered right now. The teen felt a tear escape his eye and he tried once more to escape from the captors pushing his bare shoulders into the splintered wooden deck. It didn't help that Ace could feel blood pooling around his shoulder and his abdomen, most likely his bullet wounds reopening. Fucking assholes.
"Well, now that you cannot escape, let us get on with our fun shall we?"
Every time that damned captain spoke it sounded ominous and not at all good for the once fire wielding teen. And it seemed that with each sentence a new marine was intent of hurting him in some way or another. In fact Ace was starting to see a damn pattern, and it pissed him off.
Unfortunately the pain from his fingers, and his forearms, and his ankles seems to all be pulsing at the same moment and made it incredibly difficult for the teen to move any part of his body. The captain was right, Ace was pretty sure he couldn't escape now. But that was still okay. He had been gone a long time but didn't travel that far, so surely the family would be looking for him by now. He just had to hold on until they found him.
He heard more footsteps come towards him, sounding like maybe three people? With an off chance of it being four or five? They all had pretty heavy steps, and two of them seemed to walk with a sort of waddle, almost as if they were injured or too overweight to walk smoothly.
The teen's morbid curiosity rose again and he couldn't help but wonder what torture they may have in stored for him next.
The acrid smell of cigarette and cigar smoke attacked his nose and the teen couldn't help but wonder if all of the men approaching him were smoking. It wasn't a pleasant smell, and it sent a worrying shiver down his spine. These men shouldn't all be smoking. Cigarettes and cigars were not common on the seas, and those who had them hoarded them. There were a few on the Moby Dick who were like rabid dogs when someone tried to take one of their cigs.
Ace was a little lost in his thoughts when he was flipped onto his back, his torso facing the sky. There were four sets of hands on him, moving him in the most painful way as possible, jerking his broken bones almost viciously. The pain was excruciating and he bit into his bottom lip again, still determined to keep his voice from escaping, the teen thought for a moment that his teeth met. But the slamming of his body into the deck jerked his mind away from everything besides the pain. The burning pain.
His mind was taken off from his broken bones when a different sensation caused him to focus on it instead of his older injuries. It was a sharp sting in his abdominal area, right below his left pectoral. He didn't know what the feeling was at first. It wasn't something he had ever experienced, not even before he was a fire-man.
He was being burnt. With the cigarettes.
He couldn't ponder the thoughts for too long, because another stick was placed on the mirrored spot to the first. It seemed this had opened the gates to all the other men smoking to start placing their burning butts on different parts of his front. Above his belly button, on both sides of his collar bone, on his hips, just above his crotch, below his nipples, his ribs. They burnt him just about every place available on his front side. The pain each one brought was delayed but no less intense from every other burn.
His head was thrown back, digging into the hard deck, muscles straining, and he had to withhold his desire to buck them off and attack them again. But his ankles were in no position to move, in fact, Ace didn't even think he could move them, with how much they hurt, he could barely move his toes inside his boot.
The pain had actually risen to a level that Ace was able to half ignore it as he pondered on why exactly they had left his boots on while breaking his ankles…which immediately brought his thoughts to his clothes, and then to his hat. Where was his hat? Did they have it? Where were they keeping it somewhere? He needed it back. That was his memento from Luffy. To match the kid's own straw hat and Sabo's. The younger seemed to think that Ace would be left out if he didn't have a hat like Sabo's top hat, or Luffy's straw one. So the kid thought a cowboy hat was the way to go. Said it was bright orange and went nicely with his dark hair, eyes, and tannish skin. What a dork.
"Uh uh, don't zone out now you freak."
A boot pressed down on his stomach, pushing the air from his lungs and rubbing the burns there is an unpleasant way. He didn't let out any noise but he did open his mouth to suck in more air, hoping to relieve the burning in his lungs that matched the burning of his skin.
The boot was removed not a second later and Ace started to cough, spittle easily passing his lips as he tried to breath in as much air as possible. His plan was stopped when a larger butt was pressed right into his neck, under his jaw on the right side. The teen clamped his eyes shut and bit his bottom lip again, the pain causing his jaw to strain.
This one didn't go out as quick as the smaller ones on his torso did, this one kept burning as it was connected to his neck. It hurt worse too, his neck was always more sensitive than the rest of his body, well that and his back. His tattoo hurt like a bitch too, luckily Uchoraji was kind enough to rub a sort of numbing agent on his back before he started to ink into his skin.
What was it with him and drifting off to his inane thoughts when he was in the midst of being attacked? Did that make him more mentally unstable than others? Was he some kind of freak because he was able to ignore obvious torture by fluttering off with random thoughts?
But the cigar, because it had to be a cigar, smelled horrible and felt just like one, was moved from under his jaw to his clavicle. Fuck did it burn like a bitch. And he could smell the rancid burning of his own skin from the cigar's previous place under his jaw. He actually made to whimper when his mind seemed to jolt back into clarity.
His thoughts were hardened once again, he was still determined. He was going to survive this, he was going to get out of this just fine, and he was going to cry hard and long when the family finally came to save him. He would admit to them everything. That he was blind, that he was broken, that he was less than a man. He didn't care. They deserved everything after they came to save him.
His muscles all tightened in anticipation. He was ready for anything they thought they could dish out. And he would not make a single sound. Fuck their desire to make him scream. He was more stubborn than they ever thought he could be.
"Well this has gotten old, lads, let's move off shall we?"
Again with that creepy captain and his odd penchant for saying things that sounded like a final send off. This guy would have made a great funeral priest. His final sayings were just so…final sounding. Ace was not the most eloquent at the moment, what with all the physical pain he had going on right now. And more that was going to happen based on that guy's previous sentence.
"Tie him to the cross arms, gents. Let's have us a jolly good show, shall we?" that was a different voice, another fucking person on this shitty ship that wanted to cause him pain in a unique way. His voice was different, like the guy who couldn't speak out his t's only he was more literate. It was an odd sort of accent, and one Ace didn't think he had heard before. But it would have been nice sounding if not for the vicious nature of it.
Something grabbed at the chain that linked his cuffs together and pulled up. The sudden movement jarred his arms and ankles and Ace had to bite his tongue this time to keep from screaming. It was a good thing he did not try to escape again, even putting a slight amount of pressure on his feet caused his ankles to burn something fierce. The captain was certainly correct about stopping him from trying to escape again. Now that he knows what it feels like to stand on his shattered ankles, he wasn't going to try again.
There was an arm that wrapped around his left bicep, and another that wrapped around his right, both leading him to some place unknown. They didn't go too far though, just about ten steps forward and maybe five or six to the right. Then they released his arms and yanked them back, causing tears to well up in his still clamped shut eyes, it felt like his shoulders were almost yanked out of their sockets.
They brought them back over his head, raising his arms almost straight up. They then attached something that sounded like metal to the chains of his cuffs and then let go of his arms. Instead of crumpling to the ground like he expected, due to his inability to stand, his arms kept him up. Or more correctly they attached something to his cuffs that was keeping him up right, hanging.
He sort of twirled a little on his feet before he raised them with what little energy he had left. The spinning was worse on his ankles than the walking was.
The crew sort of left him alone for a few minutes, a light chattering reaching his ears. None of it was loud enough for the teen to hear, but it certainly sounded like they were finally carting those men he injured off to the infirmary. Bout damn time. His family never would have left any of their members knocked out on the deck for too long. These marines were truly assholes.
The first blow was a shock to Ace. The pain, the lack of air, and the sudden need to pee. Whoever it was, they hit him right in the bladder, right over a majority of the burn wounds. It felt like a fist, not bare but covered in something. Gloves maybe?
He didn't ponder long as another blow came. Right in his left rib cage this time. Air was forced out of his mouth and he had to use more willpower to keep the screams in as he didn't have his bottom lip to bite on anymore. Not with him trying to keep air in his lungs.
"This is how ya really play with a piece of entertainment, lads. Gotta rough him up real nice, but leave the injuries more subtle, aye? Make many small injuries that combine to make a real unpleasant experience, right, trash?" the man with the weird accent spoke, his breath coming out in slight pants and right next to his ear. He must be the guy that was hurting him now. Are they taking turns?
"Bet ya didn't expect something like this, aye, monster?"
His words hurt more than his next punch did. Monster? How-why would he call Ace a monster? They-they didn't know. No one knew. Besides Luffy, Marco, and pops. No one knew. So it was just a-an insult. Something the man came up with off the top of his head. Had to be.
"You're pathetic." Another punch, this one to his left ribcage, was delivered with his words.
"To think ya were so confident that ya could take us." A hit to the pectorals. "Cause ya are some almighty bloody Whitebeard Pirate. HA!" this time it was a boot to the left side of his body, causing some cracks to sound from his tender ribs. He coughed with that hit, something warm and sticky coming out of his mouth, probably blood.
"Ya are just some bloke that Whitebeard took in. You ain't special, freak. He takes in all sorts a' low time pirates. Ya don't even have a bloody price on ya head do ya? Pathetic." A kick to the other side of his torso, something breaking quite loudly, probably a rib but with all the blood rushing through his ears, it could have been something bigger to Ace.
The man's words were rushing around in his head. He was right. Pops took in his own crew, none of which had a price on their heads, by all means small time compared to the old man and his commanders. Ace had a bounty but it wasn't all too high, not by the Whitebeard crew standards. He didn't belong with them. He was nothing. They weren't going to come for him. They didn't care. They would have been here by now if they did. Where-
A powerful punch to the middle of his pectorals shocked him horribly, his mouth hanging open, a scream would have escaped if not for the small part of his brain that was still telling him to hang on. For once Ace was glad for the hit. It cleared his head.
His family would come for him. They would because they were his family. To these marines they were just crewmates but Ace knew better, they were family, and family did not abandon one another.
The man attacking him must have noticed a change in poster or something because he suddenly let out a frustrated yell and punched Ace right in the jaw. The same place he was kicked earlier, the bruise was going to be quite the sight for his family. The teen actually had to squeeze his eyes harder cause the impact surprised him into wanting to open them, to relieve them of some of the water that had built up from his almost crying so often.
"Those bangs are annoying, petty officer. Remove them." The captain's disturbing voice reached his ears once more and Ace didn't even try to stop the shudder that ran through him. Great sea gods above was that man vile, in a completely different way from the Teach guy from the family. Wait. What did he say?
He heard a sort of metal swishing sound, like that of a blade being drawn. Well fuck.
Now more than ever he would have to keep his eyes closed because someone just came up and lopped off his center bangs, the ones that were particularly important to keeping his eyes covered.
"There we go. Now we can see your face twist in pain during the next part of our entertainment." His voice made it sound like he was smiling and Ace couldn't help but think it was most likely an unflattering one. "Horis, fetch me the Hand. Boris, resituate our guest for his next event."
Ace heard heavy footsteps walk away from the place where he was strung up, most likely to get this 'Hand' thing the pungent captain was talking about. While another set started towards him.
Was every man on this ship heavy set? Or freaking huge? Why else would their steps sound so heavy? Unless they were doing it purposefully? But Ace couldn't imagine why marines would want to walk heavily, and don't they have to sneak around sometimes? From experience the teen knew you had to have light steps when trying to skulk around without getting caught.
Ace really needed to stop getting so lost in his own head, before he knew it, the man, Boris, had pulled on the cuff chains and the hook or whatever keeping him up. He adjusted it in such a way that the teen wasn't really hanging anymore, but just held up. He wasn't swinging anymore and it made him overall more stable. Just what exactly was the 'Hand' and why did it require Ace to be more stable than he was?
Boris walked away rather quickly after fixing the teen's binds. And the fire user was left in almost silence, the only sound being the shifts and breaths of the other crew members still watching. At least until another set of footsteps started. These were lighter than all the others Ace had heard on the ship. And the gait was shorter, more relaxed than the rigidness of the rest of the sailors.
A slightly slim hand touched his left shoulder blade. It wasn't muscled like Thatch's, or warm like Marco's, it wasn't even soft like Izou's, or too big like Pops'. It was just sort of there, brushing over his shoulder blade before trailing down over his tattoo. It sent a shiver up Ace's spine, this sort of feather touch from someone he didn't know.
"You are so proud of this, aren't you, pirate?" It was the fucking captain. He was touching him, his tattoo, his pride. How dare he?!
"I am going to enjoy taking this from you, filth. Watching that deceiving face of yours crumple in pain and despair." He took in a deep breath then, leaning over Ace's back, his lips touching the shell of the teen' ear as he spoke. "You will remember me for the rest of your wretched life."
The man moved away after he spoke his words, and Ace couldn't help but feel violated. That man touched his pride, his sign of his family. The teen couldn't wait to get back on the Moby Dick and scrub away every trace of this incident. And he would get back on the Moby, his family would find him, and he was looking forward to the punishment they will rain down on these marines in his stead. Because Ace had no doubt he's be confined to the infirmary when he was rescued. With these wounds the nurses probably wouldn't let him out for a month at the least.
"Ahh. Much obliged, Horis." This putrid captain must have been raised by a noble or lived near one or something, because he sure as hell spoke like one, with his fancy words and what not. Sabo said that word once, 'obliged', it was like a fancy way of saying thank you. What a freak this captain was.
But his words must have meant that the crony brought whatever it was that the 'Hand' was. The only thing Ace could discern about the device was a few odd clinks of metal on the wooden deck of the ship. Was it some weird collection of broken swords? What else could make that sound? But why call it the 'Hand'?
A sort of whistling sounded through the air followed by a loud crack and Ace almost gave up trying to not cry out in pain. What felt like blades raked down his back, from his left shoulder down to his lower back, slicing skin like it was butter. Needless to say Ace did let out a quiet hiss between clenched teeth, trying to guide his pain out in a non-vocal way.
Laughs reached his ears as he finally released his pain through hisses. They thought it was funny. Him being whipped. Well it wasn't too much of a shock; Ace already knew they were a bunch of psychos. Even by a pirate's standard.
"Come on, pretty boy, scream for me." The captain's voice was quiet; most people wouldn't have been able to hear him over the raucous laughter of the rest of the crew. But Ace heard him. And it made the teen feel as if this wasn't going to end with one or two lashes. It also gave him a feeling in his gut that this was not the grand finale for these assholes. Fuck. If this wasn't the last torture, Ace didn't want to experience their end game.
Another swoosh through the air and an even louder crack caused the teen to throw his head back far in agony, even going as far as arching his back, hoping to relieve the pain of the slashes. This one went up, from the very top of his butt to his mid back, where the Jolly Roger's smile was located. It was that thought that made Ace want to scream, the captain's plot unravelling itself inside the teen's now overacting brain.
Ace ignored the next few lashes, choosing instead to focus himself on his new realization. The marine captain wanted to remove the mark from his back. In the most painful way possible, this psycho was going to whip and tear his skin to get rid of the teen's family mark. It was the worst humiliation possible for a prideful Whitebeard Pirate. Having your mark removed, was like stabbing Pops in the back. And the teen started to really cry at that thought.
The pain in his back barely registered as the marine crew laughed on, the captain even joining in as he continue to whip at his uncovered back, at his mark. The only think Ace could think about was his betrayal of the old man. He should have tried harder to escape, to protect himself, to keep his tattoo whole.
Tears rolled down his cheeks from his closed eyes, burning them with the pain of all that water trapped behind his lids. He didn't even have to think about keeping his eyes shut, or stopping himself from making a noise. His whole body had shut down. His mind was stuck on that one thought.
He betrayed his pops.
In the worse way possible, he had let down the one man Ace had ever felt he could call a father. He was a failure. He was more deceitful than he thought he could be. By taking that mark, by taking it into his skin, his body, his soul, he had made an unspoken promise to the old man and to every single one of his crewmates, his family. To Thatch, to Izou, and Haruto, and to Marco. He had made a promise to honor his mark, to protect it as he would protect them, that it would signify his devotion to them and to the old man.
It was no wonder they weren't going to save him. He betrayed them. He did the second worst thing amongst the Whitebeard Pirates. He had allowed the old man to be stabbed in the back. Even just figuratively was enough to exile him from this family of his.
He didn't want to live with that knowledge.
"Seems like I finally broke your mind, pirate." The captain's voice slithered in to his pity party and Ace became more aware of his surroundings and his own body.
He felt light headed, and dizzy. His back felt like it was completely drenched in water, but the teen knew it was his own blood. He could feel his own skin slapping against his body, hanging from him by slivers of still connected patches. And when he shifted his head he almost screamed out in pain as his long hair brushed over the wounds on his upper back and neck area. His hair burned him. The open wounds on his back hurt worse than every other injury on his body. Not because of the mental pain but because of how very sensitive it was.
Even locked in his own head, Ace felt every single lash. Amplified by a number so large the teen didn't even want to think about it. His body was on fire and his mind was left in shattered pieces.
But still he didn't make a sound. Not when the captain started towards him. Not when he placed a rag wet with salt water on his back. Not when he grabbed onto his hair. Not when he yanked it up harshly. And not when he smacked him hard in the same place on his jaw he was kicked and punched.
He may have disgraced his family by allowing this marine to forcefully remove his mark, but he would be damned if he let the asshole make him cry out. He still had a chance to make it right with is family. When he told them how he wouldn't make a sound. How he fought on in the only way he could. There was a chance, a small chance, but a chance Ace would hold dear, that the Whitebeards would still accept him as their brother and son.
"Looks like it will take the main event to get you to scream as prettily as you should, pirate."
It was quiet for a brief second, all laughter halting as the captain did something. Not a second later Ace collapsed onto the deck, his cuffs released from whatever hook was keeping him up right. All his broken bones flared in pain as he fell, making sure to fall forward to keep his back from touching anything else as much as possible.
Still his back stretched and burned as he fell forward, his legs resting in an odd kneeling position as his torso was bent over them, his arms spread in front of him, his face practically buried in the deck. He tried to move as little as possible as a bustle of movement occurred around him, the only person not currently moving being the bane of Ace's current existence, the blasted marine captain.
The teen's active thoughts were still focused around his betrayal of his family, but certain rogue thoughts roamed to his dark curiosity, wondering what on earth could be considered the main event for the pompous captain. Was it not enough to whip him and remove his pride from his body? What else could the man do? What else could he take, that would be worse than his tattoo being torn to shreds by a whip.
BEGINNING OF THE RAPE SCENE (PLEASE SKIP IF TO NEXT BOLD IF IT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE)
The man's hand grabbed his head again and pulled him up by his hair, forcing the teen to rise despite the horrible pain it was causing him. The man didn't make him go all that far up, just enough to where he was on his knees but not bent over, his body completely perpendicular to his shins connected to the deck.
The next movement from the captain shocked Ace horribly, and made a rock settle itself at the pit of his stomach. The man released his hair but then immediately wrapped his clothed arms around the teen's upper body, the scratchy material burning his back and the round burns littered all over his front. It even made his hurting ribs twinge with a deeper pain.
The hands sticking out of the end of those scratchy sleeves were palm down on Ace's chest, roaming around his muscles slightly. The once fire user had no idea what the captain thought he would accomplish by doing this. It irritated his other wounds, yes, but it didn't cause any kind of pain other than that. So what was the man's ploy? What did he hope to achieve by touching Ace this way?
"I am going to enjoy this more than anything else, pirate." The man hissed into the teen's ear, scaring Ace in a way that he hadn't been in his entire time on this ship. Whatever the man had in mind, it was going to be worse than everything else, the teen knew it. "I am sure you will come to enjoy it as well. After all, you pirates are such slaves to pleasure."
The rock in the teen's stomach dropped further and his breathing picked up, his heart pumping harder and faster as the captain's hand started to trail down his chest. At first he hoped the man would stop at this stomach and dig in or something, but that disgusting had continued on, reaching the teen's shorts in no time.
It was when the other was unbuckling the belt that held his shorts up that Ace completely froze. Thoughts no longer running through his head, mind no longer running through possible tortures, we was just…shocked into an immobile state.
The man didn't notice, just undid the teen's belt and pulled his shorts down until they laid on the deck around his knees. He then proceeded to push Ace's head down with one hand, forcing the teen to put all his weight on his elbows, while his other hand made something unzip.
The teen was still unmoving, not sure how to process anything when a hand was placed on his left butt cheek, spreading it out slightly causing a cold wind to brush against Ace's most private place. A low whistle reached his ears and a couple of jeers but the teen ignored them entirely, his breath coming faster and faster and for a second the teen thought he could get out of this by running out of breath and collapsing. Then he felt something touch his hole. It was blunt and bigger than a finger.
Ace forgot completely about his determination not to make a sound, and he dropped his mouth, despite the pain, and let out the loudest and most desperate shriek he had ever made. Now more than ever he needed his family to save him. This couldn't happen to him. He wouldn't live through it. This kind of violation. No. Not him. Not to him.
A pressure was applied to his backside.
The next scream was louder and higher, desperation soaked in its tone.
It travelled miles.
END OF RAPE SCENE!
Earlier on the Moby Dick
Marco was looking out over the ocean. It was quieter somehow, without the younger fire fruit user around. Thatch was staying holed up in the kitchen with Izou, Haruta was sort of listlessly walking around, and Marco was zoning out over the railing. It's not that they couldn't do anything, more like they were just waiting to congratulate their youngest upon his return.
Of course the other's thoughts were most likely more subdued than Marco's were. The blonde just could not stop thinking about the ebony-haired teen. His flowing locks, his pouty lips, the adorable freckles that dusted his cheeks and shoulders, his perfect body, and, the most prominent thought, his unique hazy grey eyes.
The teen took over his thoughts completely, even when Ace was around, Marco was still thinking of him, of his lips. More than ever Marco cursed Thatch and his horrible timing…Actually it was Uchoraji's, but the phoenix and the Artist had an understanding, so it was mostly Thatch's fault.
The man was grateful for the small amount of time he got to be so intimately close to the beautiful teen. Even if it did haunt his dreams and cause him to wonder what it would be like to make love to the fire user, his inner phoenix seemed to preen every time that thought crossed his mind. Plus it was the first time Marco had thought of it as making love and not just getting off. It was new but the man embraced the idea with his whole body. In fact he was determined to let Ace know how he felt when the teen got back from this beginner level mission.
Sea gods above, when would the terror return so Marco could ravish him gently…okay he needed to take a breath and calm down, this wasn't like him and he'd scare the teen away if he came on too strong…He really needed to talk to someone about this.
An image of a certain cross-dressing man popped up in his head, smiling evilly. Izou. Marco would talk to Izou about how he would go about wooing the teen, the okama would be the one to know if anyone did. Yes, good plan. To the kitchens.
"Hey, peacock!" Thatch was going to get killed one day for his mouth. Marco wasn't pleased as he whipped his head around to see the chef running towards him with Izou, carrying what looked like a ton of sandwiches. Well this saves him a trip to the kitchens.
"One day, I will kill you, Thatch." Marco said his voice both hard and light with teasing in his tone as he watched gladly as the two came to a stop in front of him. He was really glad they got over their spat. And seemed closer than before, in fact, the phoenix had never seen Izou so damned happy.
"Nah, you're all talk, brother!" Thatch laughed out, placing two platters of sandwiches on the deck while he grabbed a blanket thing that was wrapped around Izou's neck. He snapped it out and it was huge. It covered a long portion of the deck, and once it was flat the chef wasted no time in setting the sandwich platters on it in a sort of planned placing. When he went to grab the platters Izou was holding, Marco was surprised when the man kissed the okama's cheek before turning to place those platters as well. Izou's face flushed something fierce and Marco quirked a brow. When did that happen?
"Hey, Thatch! Whatcha doin?!" Haruta yelled out, bouncing as she made her way over to her three elder brothers. She seemed happier now then the last Marco had seen her, and the man was surprised when he realized almost the entire family was present on the deck. Even Pops had joined them on the lower deck and was laughing heartily as one of the many nurses tried to get him to put the sake down. Fat chance, Pops will drink when he wants to.
"I figured since no one wanted to be holed up in the mess hall when everyone is waiting for Ace's return. Decided it was a good idea to have a picnic, that way we'd all be ready for the party when that rascal gets his fire butt back here." The chef was smiling widely as the rest of his fellow chefs came up on deck, each carrying two or three platters of different foods.
The family cheered at Thatch's idea and everyone moved to settle themselves on the too damn big blanket, where on earth did the man find one that big?
Marco himself sat down near the railing where he was zoning, the same railing where he watched Ace sail off in his specially made skiff. He'd be the first to hear and see the teen when he returned at the man wanted it that way. Last to say good luck, first to say welcome home.
Dinner proceeded from there, getting rowdy but not as rowdy as their parties tended to be, and the only one drinking was pops, but that was more cause he was always drinking. The rest of the family was waiting for Ace's return so they could truly show the teen a real Whitebeard Party.
The sun was going down, when the food was all finished and the first doubts started to appear in their heads. Where was he? It should have taken him no longer than a few hours at most to sail around the island checking for marines. Even with his lack of sight he could extend his fire pretty far from his person so he still shouldn't have taken more than three maybe four hours at the most. That mark passed an hour ago.
The rowdiness and general festivities were almost completely stopped by now, every single member thinking the same thing as their first mate, save of course the blindness. Even Haruta the bouncy loudmouth was subdued and morose. There was something bad going on. Something wasn't right and Ace was in danger. Marco knew it in his gut that something bad happened to the teen. So it was time to give up on the slight air of 'dunno-what-to-do' and actually do something.
Marco rose from his spot and walked carefully towards pops, making sure not to step on anyone or any food that missed a mouth and landed on the deck. Even the old man knew something was wrong, he hadn't taken a drink of his sake in quite a while, and his always present nurses were silent, for once not yelling at pops about his drinking problem.
The phoenix stopped in front of pops, looking up at him with respect but more fear than anything else, and unsurprisingly Whitebeard matched his fear with worry. He knew this wasn't normal either, and that Ace should have returned by now.
"Orders, pops?" Marco didn't have to say anything more than those two words. Having been with pops the longest he was graced with an ability to communicate with the man in very few words.
"Set sail. We are going to find our youngest."
A loud roar rose from the family assembled on deck, all of them really since no one on the crew would skip a party which this was supposed to become. Marco immediately went with Jozu to the helm, the bigger being one of a few allowed to move the wheel. Thatch and Izou seemed to take it upon themselves to clean up the mess to ready for the chance of a battle, which majorly consisted of picking up the corners of the blanket and carrying the trash with them that way.
Marco was only half paying attention to anything going on upon the deck. His mind was completely focused on two things, the sinking feeling he couldn't shake off that something horrible was happening to Ace, and his phoenix trying to burst out from his body, yearning to be released to search for the teen. But he held back, not knowing what was going on, and the teen might have it under control and barging in would make the fire user think they didn't trust him, but they did.
They sailed for a while, maybe a few nautical miles total around the island they were thinking of landing on, the one Ace's mission was to scout out.
It was as they were coming around the back side of the island that something truly horrible happened. Marco heard the first scream and his head snapped up immediately. It was the second scream, full of terror and grief that the rest of the crew heard. It was a broken scream. The kind someone would make when they lost everything.
It was then that their eyes first laid sight on the large naval vessel floating along the waves, clearly anchored only a few meters off the island. But it was what was next to the large boat that caused many hearts to halt their periodic beating for a few moments and realize who the scream must have come from.
It was Ace's custom skiff.
It was broken in half, the teen's rather signature orange cowboy hat floating amongst its wreckage rather listlessly. It caused Marco's heart to start beating louder and his mind blanked from everything. The only thing rushing through his mind was the different scenes that could have caused the teen he knew to scream so painfully.
It was Jozu who actually kept his head together and started steering the Moby towards the vessel where their brother was being held captive. Marco's teeth were clenched tightly and the anger flared into his eyes, a sort of subtle anger, but one that many knew was more dangerous than his more outward anger.
Everyone on the Moby was prepared, all with their weapons on hand and they were ready to kill every single marine on that vessel until they found their precious brother. And even then they would kill them all anyway, for hurting their brother in such a way that made him scream like he had nothing left.
It was worrying to Marco to see the navy aboard the craft not preparing to battle the threat, but just sort of hanging around. They didn't even seem to notice that the Whitebeard Pirate's main craft was upon their starboard side. And that made the blood rush from his face, something was keeping them distracted, something was keeping their attention so strongly that they didn't notice the large Moby.
Marco was afraid of what Ace's scream had to do with their fascination. Were they slowly killing him on deck for the whole crew to see? Were they not going to let their headquarters know they had captures a Whitebeard Pirate?
When they got close enough for the Moby to latch on to the other boat, Marco understood their lack of movement. And the sight made every single thought save for revenge leave his mind. He completely bypassed his loud anger and slipped right into the silent anger that made people die, and die quickly.
Sprawled out in the middle of the deck of the enemy ship was Ace. Back torn and bloody, feet in an unnatural angle, and hair a mussed mess. The marine with the captain's jacket looming over him, his hands placed on his front hips. But it was when Marco focused clearly on all the details of Ace that he truly noticed the problem.
Ace's shorts were around his ankles and his bare ass was covered in some white substance.
TBC
Translation for that illiterate guy:
"I think he thinks he's better than us, captain."
"That's fine, got another idea anyway. Might as well put them bullet wounds to use."
"Where'd your pride go, pirate!"
"Think you're better than us, don't you, pirate?! Well you aren't!"
So. That happened. As always I am here for questions and concerns~
See y'all next time~