Unbreakable
MDNI- Minors Do NOT Interact; Dead Dove: Do not eat
Masterlist
Warnings- MDNI; 18+ content; Dark themes: TRAUMA/language/NSFW; Gore; explicit content; slight Dead Dove; not proof read- first time post (please be kind), follows canon One Piece from Kidd Pirate's POV
I do have a fairly demanding day job, I make no promises for scheduled updates but it is my intent to complete this fanfiction.
fem reader POV, Y/N x Kidd- established relationship, *your character has bright HOT pink hair- super close to red but still pink (yes this matters for WAY later!) This could be your full head, streaks, or some other kind of hairstyle that incorporates the color but it does matter!
Color Coded and Labeled- Red= Kidd POV, Purple= Reader POV, Blue= Killer POV This is a reader x Kidd fanfic but as we all know Killer and Kidd are a package deal so while nothing is flat out stated and the relationship does revolve around reader and kidd there is Killer content I leave it up to you dear readers as to what that content means (platonic, friend, family, lover etc)
What happens when Kidd's treasure is stolen right from under him? What does he do to get you back and what violence will he rain down against those who dare hurt you? Plunge into Oda's world of pirates following the Kidd Pirate's path to the One Piece and see what carnage you dish out with your captain.
P.S.- yes I am a HUGE one piece fan and do believe Luffy will be the pirate king but this is a fanfic on the trashman magnet gremlin who also shares that same dream which means anyone on KIDD's crew will believe in him and that he will be the king.
This is my original "what if" idea but All character's/One piece world belong to the amazing Eiichoro Oda- I own nothing!
Reader POV
The Kidd Pirates face a brutal battle, pummeling upstarts who dared stand in their way. As the fighting rages on, it’s clear which crew is going to walk away. Bloodied, injured—sure—but damn it, your crew is winning.
It’s not like blood ever made a Kidd Pirate flinch.
You watch the battle unfold through your scope from your nest above the chaos. You are the crew’s long-range sharpshooter—support, pressure, and the occasional execution. The unseen shield at their backs.
Of course, everyone here can hold their own. They wouldn’t be Kidd Pirates if they couldn’t. Still, an extra hand is never turned away.
Your gaze tracks the spread-out crew… lingering a little too long on your captain’s feral silhouette as he delivers blow after merciless blow to who you assume to be the pitiful captain.
Bang.
You release a slow, steady breath as the recoil kisses your shoulder. Through the scope, the spineless jackass crumples—dead before he ever hears it.
“Thud,” you murmur under your breath, a quiet mockery meant only for yourself.
You enjoy your role as sniper, even if your services are rarely needed. When the crew tears through a fight like this, it’s easy to fade into the background. Still… it’s nice to feel part of the action. Even if it’s just keeping time with the sounds of battle.
You swing your scope back to your captain as he and Killer chase the tail-tucked pirates scrambling toward their ship.
“Idiots,” you mutter. You already know what’s coming.
You watch with coiled anticipation for your love’s finishing blow—but it never comes. Something catches the attention of both your captain and first mate. The shift is immediate. Someone’s hurt more than expected. Or maybe someone yelled the magic word—booze. Either way, the fight is over. The Kidd Pirates stand victorious.
You know Kidd will be prickly about how hard it was won…And honestly? You’d agree. For the crew of the next Pirate King- his dream, and one you believe in just as fiercely- it shouldn’t have been this close.
“We need to be stronger,” you murmur to yourself, already feeling the weight of it settle in your chest. “If we’re going to survive what’s coming.”
You disassemble your firing position, carefully checking over your rifle. Even now, you can’t help but admire the intricate finishings Kidd had tailored just for you. Black and gold veins run along the barrel, punctuated by flashes of red that seem to bleed into the design, like a warning painted in miniature.
You hear a twig snap. Goosebumps rise along your arms — a warning too late. Shadows move before you can react, rough hands grabbing at you. You twist, kick, bite as stale breath assaults you. Panic flares, sharp and hot — and you crush it. You take a breath, forcing your nerves to steady. Use what Killer taught you.
You wait for your opening. Then you strike — headbutting the one gripping you. The hold loosens. You drop low, grabbing his leg. You may be the crew’s shield, standing apart from the chaos, but that doesn’t mean you don’t delight in carnage. You’re a Kidd Pirate, after all.
You haul upward with your weight, ripping the bastard off balance. Your hand finds the dagger hidden in your boot, steel flashing as more figures emerge from the shadows. You can’t take them all at once — but the battle just ended. The crew will notice your absence soon. Especially a certain hot-headed, possessive captain.
Just have to hold out until they come.
Another lunges. You sidestep, slash, and watch red bloom across his cheek — deeply satisfying. But they’re fast. One rushes from the side as another strikes from behind. Pain explodes. Your blood spatters the floor. You swallow a shout, forcing your eyes to stay sharp, searching for the next threat. And then… Darkness creeps in at the edges of your vision. The world tilts from a blow you didn’t anticipate. When you wake, everything is already wrong.
Kidd POV
Kidd treks up toward your nest. He doesn’t need a signal — he knows you. Knows the terrain you favor, the angles you look for when setting up a firing position. What he doesn’t know is why it’s taking you so damn long to get back to the Victoria Punk.
“Where the hell are ya, mouse?!” he shouts.
He waits. Half-expecting — half-daring — your sassy reply. You’re always ready to snap back, always eager to poke the bear. A glutton for punishment. Silence.
Kidd’s smirk fades as fast as it appeared. Unease crawling up his spine as he reaches the ridge, eyes sweeping over what’s left of your firing position. Almost dismantled. You’re a lot of things — reckless, stubborn, sharp-tongued — but sloppy has never been one of them. Then he stops cold.
“Fuck!”
The word rips out of him as his fist slams into a tree, bark splintering under the blow. Killer crests the hill a moment later, already on his captain’s heels. He slows just short of Kidd, not needing an explanation — not when he sees it.
Your rifle. Discarded in the dirt.
Killer fans out, searching the ridge without a word. He doesn’t need them — he can feel the fear coiled beneath Kidd’s rage like a live wire.
Kidd freezes at the sight of your rifle discarded in the dirt. Rage boils hotter in his chest as he lifts it carefully, reverently — like it might shatter if he grips it too hard. His eyes drop to the ground. Blood. Not pooled. Splattered. Dragged.
“Good girl,” he murmurs. Of course you fought. Pride flares sharp and dangerous, only feeding the fire already tearing through him.
“Kidd!”
He’s moving before Killer finishes shouting. When he reaches him, Killer already has a wheezing piece of shit pirate by the collar — not one of theirs.
They share a single look. Killer slams the bastard into a tree, steel biting through shoulder and bark alike. The screams make Kidd’s heart race — a sharp, vicious thrill that settles deep in his chest.
“Where is she?”
His voice is low. Quiet. Far more dangerous than shouting. The man spits at Kidd’s feet, blood trailing down his chin. “Fuck. You.”
Kidd laughs. It starts soft, then swells — loud, wild, unhinged.
“What’s so funny?” the captive snarls. “I’m dead either way. If I talk, I die. If I don’t, I still die.”
Kidd laughs harder. Killer folds his arms, leaning back against a tree watching the familiar routine play out.
“Well,” Kidd says, laughter slowing, eyes burning, “you’re right about death.”
He steps in close, crowding the man’s space, metal and menace and fury all wrapped in skin.
“But you’re real fuckin’ wrong about how fast it’ll be.”
The pirate frowns, confused. “What kind of threat is tha— ARGH!”
Kidd twists the knife buried in the man’s shoulder. Slow. Deliberate.
“The kind,” Kidd says flatly, “that proves I don’t care about you.”
He steps back and doesn’t even look away when he speaks.
“Killer.”
The Punishers whir to life as Killer advances, each step measured — patient, predatory.
Panic finally cracks through the captive’s bravado. “W-Wait—! If you kill me, you’ll never find her!”
Killer tilts his head, almost curious. Kidd smirks.
“Who said this’ll kill ya?”
Understanding hits the man like a wave. His scream tears out of him as Killer moves. When it’s done, Killer steps back. The Punishers slow. Entrails begin to paint the ground. Kidd crouches, watching the man bleed and wail, helpless, eyes locked on what used to be inside him.
“Y’know,” Kidd muses, almost fondly, “I think this might be my new favorite sound.”
He grabs a fistful of the man’s hair and yanks his head up. Tears streak down the pirate’s face.
“Now,” Kidd growls, voice cracking with fury, “let’s try this again.”
He leans in close enough to feel the man shaking.
“Where. The fuck. Is my Mouse?”
“Black Market,” the man sobs. “We—we saw her alone. We needed a payday. Thought she’d fetch a price.”
Killer’s blades go still. Kidd straightens slowly.
“Sabaody,” Kidd says, voice dead calm.
They leave the scrap to die as they race back to the Punk, already barking orders.
