Warnings:
1. Violence during rape
2. Forced oral sex
3. Non-consensual drug use
Kidd ground his teeth, his nails slicing half-moons into his palms. He couldn't think clearly, couldn't even walk in a straight line, it was as if he was drunk on fury. Law had been taken to Dressrosa, and while he stood on the bow of his ship, glaring at the horizon, Law was suffering. He tried not to think of what he was being subjected to, tried to hope that Law had been in a dungeon for the past three days and was being left alone. But he knew, knew in his heart, that this was not the case. Doflamingo had his 'property' now, and he wasn't the kind of person to show mercy.
"He's so cute when he cries. And when he cums his cheeks turns such a rosy pink. Do you want to know the kind of face he makes? Should I describe it to you?"
Kidd panted, chest arcing off the floor as he struggled to stand. His left side wasn't responding, but he couldn't think of the semantics, of the possible life threatening injuries he sustained. He was livid, everything else was white noise.
"He opens his mouth like a baby bird, closes his eyes, and he keens so beautifully it would make angels weep."
"Y-You son of a-"
"And then of course he starts sobbing, and if it isn't the most precious sound? He's a delicacy, Eustass Kidd, never meant for the likes of you. He belongs to me, and you would do well to remember that."
He swallowed, his raw throat grating in the salty breeze. He couldn't look away from the barren horizon, waiting to see the faint outline of the perilous country in which Law was being tortured.
He stood there, unblinking, and waited.
Law's head rocked as he was pounded into the sheets, Vergo's grip on his hips breaking skin. His right cheek was swollen and his broken teeth clattered in his closed mouth, slicing into his tongue. Vergo wasn't like his Master, who enjoyed pet play and humiliating punishments. Vergo enjoyed inflicting pain. Got off on it. He liked the way Law's blood beaded under his fingernails, the way his teeth gave way beneath his fist. In a way, Law was more terrified of Vergo than his Master, disregarding his feverish and unnatural love for the latter.
He cried silent tears, his face frozen in an apathetic mask because any movement would disturb his slowly healing injuries. Vergo didn't like to fuck quiet whores, and thrust into Law with renewed vigor. He opened his mouth to moan and ended up choking on fragments of enamel, blood easing them down. It was enough for Vergo to see his teeth and tongue painted a bright scarlet, his eyes bulging and throat bobbing as he struggled to keep his airways clear. He slowed his pace. It was still brutal, to the point where Law knew his cervix would be bruised for hours, his insides chaffed raw- an almost impossible feat. At the very least his body knew when to drug him with its natural opiates, and an orgasm rippled through him just as the pain neared unbearable. The agony chased away, Law let his eyes fall closed and relaxed the muscles in his neck. Letting the bed bear the weight of his head, basking in the aftershocks of his orgasm, Law felt the land of sleep calling him.
No, someone was actually saying his name, and when he opened his eyes and saw red hair and a gentle smile, he couldn't stop the tears. The kind expression morphed into one of vicious lust, the pain returning along with the memories.
"If you don't cooperate, I'll just force you."
Law swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing once, twice, his compulsive swallowing melding into indistinguishable sobs, his windpipe bent awkwardly from how his head was pulled back. Law had little time to prepare himself before Kidd's fingers were in his mouth, prying open his jaws, and his cock was stuffed down his throat. Caught off guard, his muscles spasmed to remove the intrusion, and coughed weakly around the foul-smelling member. He couldn't recall if Kidd had smelled and tasted so acrid, bitter on his tongue and in his lungs. He couldn't remember if Kidd's hands had been this rough when he had carded his fingers through his hair on those warm nights together.
Did his fingernails dig into his scalp and draw blood?
Did the fur of his pelvis feel so coarse against his cheeks on Sabaody?
No, this act wasn't the same.
Or was it?
Even if Kidd refused to admit it, Law had taken advantage of him.
Maybe it was only right that Kidd do the same.
Soon Kidd ceased the forceful jerk of his head, grating his length painfully in his throat. He replaced tearing of his hair with the sharp thrusts of his hips, and Law could only stare ahead with wide glassy eyes as Kidd fucked his throat raw. There was no pleasure to be gained, Kidd was aiming at the wrong place, and Law's mind was too warped with pain of different kinds to thoroughly process anything rationally.
Kidd was here and he was violent, his infamous reputation as the 'Red Death' showing itself as the iron truth. He probably did this to countless women, stealing them from their beds and splitting them with his cock. He probably took babies from their mother's breasts and crushed their skulls in his hands, jammed his thumbs in their father's eyes and ripped their jaws off. Law knew his grandiose muscles weren't for show, he'd even seen him in action from a distance, and felt them ripple beneath his palm in the throws of an unpleasant dream.
And hadn't Law always been the same?
He may not have raped whores and slaughtered babies, but he had killed. He had tortured. They weren't innocent people, but he was far from innocent himself. He couldn't claim he took no pleasure in their suffering, hadn't loved the way they broke apart under his skillful touch. Their deaths were beautiful, he made their suffering beautiful, watched them crumble into nothing, reveled in their despair.
So he took what his lover gave without complaint.
Let him slam him to the floor hard enough to crack his skull, blood pooling beneath his head and stars sent dancing before his eyes. He let him rake his nails across his chest, slicing open his nipples and beading blood along intricate lines. Let him impale himself into Law, splitting flesh and drawing blood. It was agonizing, Kidd didn't wait for him to adjust, rutting into him with all his strength. Something inside him hemorrhaged almost instantly, giving out under the fierce thrusting.
It hurt.
It hurt so much.
Looking into Kidd's twisted face hurt so much.
Law let out a ragged gasp as if breaking the surface of the ocean, his belly swelling with Vergo's seed as he released inside. The vision of Kidd was gone, replaced by the unwavering certainty that he was slipping into insanity. He had already lost so much time, fading in and out of reality, hours dripping through his fingers, lost to the breeze drifting in through Master's open window.
His emotions had left him, leaving him with nothing but apathy and silence. He couldn't remember the last time he ate, couldn't remember the last time he drank water. His body wasn't allowed to truly sleep, but his mind drifted away whenever it could.
"Wasn't that nice of Vergo to treat you so sweetly?"
His Master's shadow eclipsed him like the shadow of a mountain over a town. He couldn't escape it, he didn't want to. The faint impulses to escape had fled when Kidd entered the room and took him like an animal. He had punished him, gifted him, taken something from him he could never return. Law didn't know if he wanted them back.
Those gentle days.
Filled with unease.
In the comfort of Kidd's embrace, he'd always suspected things would turn sour. Always ready to be betrayed. He waited for Kidd to take him up on his offers, to take sex as payment for being so kind to him. Law tried to give him so many things to quell the desire to repay him: his body, gold, his mother's lineage- and even though Kidd accepted his final gift, his insistence on keeping him at arm's length nearly killed him. Lounging in the safety of Kidd's bedroom, pressing himself as close as possible, sending warm smiles at each other, Law couldn't stave the aching need in his loins. He wanted to give himself to Kidd, and take the other in return. All the way, just the two of them, to do what his body needed. To supply his nature with a purpose. He was created to serve a Master with everything he had at his disposal, but Kidd refused to give him what he wanted.
And Kidd had taken from him instead, and though Law had finally gotten what he desired, it wasn't the same.
It wasn't what he needed.
And now he was lost, unsure of himself and what he wanted.
And somehow, it didn't matter.
Because Law was lost in his mind, trapped by the tethers of his past. Slave to the nightmares his shattered mind spun to torture him.
And he willingly submitted.
Law let himself be molded into the sheets, his body breaking and swelling and reforming, and all the while Law was heavily disassociated. He spoke words without meaning, cried out without memory, and lived without living.
When he regained control of his mind, it was only for the briefest of moments before he was injected in the upper thigh with an opaque drug. Law slipped into oblivion, and did not resurface.
Penguin barked orders at the bridge crew, his palms sweaty and chest tight. Every second they wasted was one more that Law suffered. With Law gone he was in full command, but all he could do was frantically fuss about. He was unable to retain a cool head, knowing what Law was going through.
Law was his first best friend, and he was Law's second. They'd met when Penguin's name was still Robyn. When he still served as an assassin under the tutelage of his parents. He'd adored his job, and been exceptional at it. Everyone in the Blues knew of the Avian Assassin, of the multiple guises he went under in order to take out his targets. He'd been trained to be a sniper without parallel, and one day he was able to surpass his parents. He'd killed them at the age of 14, and was finally able to pursue the life he desired. He was able to go on missions without having to masquerade in ball gown, able to chop off his long hair and renounce his title as a femme fatale.
When he met Law, the other took him for a man, and when he walked in on him adjusted his binder, he still referred to him as 'he'. It was a blessing that he did, because Penguin would have killed him for it. Soon enough Law introduce him to the world of hormone therapy, and by the time he was sixteen Law had performed his double mastectomy. He filled out his baggy clothes with layers of muscles, and when he looked in the mirror he no longer had the urge to shatter his reflection.
They bonded over their negative sexual experiences, Penguin having slept with more targets than he could remember. When Law revealed his true self, Penguin had felt only adoration for the other. Only an incredibly brave person could continue to exist with such a heavy burden.
Law had helped him realize his true self, and in return he only expected his loyalty. So he would do his part and rescue his friend, even if he knew it was hopeless.
There was likely nothing left to rescue.
"Captain, it seems we have a welcome party."
He leveled the bearded man with a hard stare, searching his dark sunglasses for a glint of movement.
"Eustass 'Captain' Kidd...I hope you provide me with a bit of a challenge."
He uncrossed his arms and retrieved the bamboo staff from the holster on his back. He cracked his neck and strummed his fingers. He tipped his head and let his glasses slide down the bridge of his nose, allowing a glimpse of cruel brown eyes. His lips curled in a small smile.
"Fucking that whore has me quite refreshed."
Broken fragments of broken lives. Next chapter will be back at the usual 4.5K.
