Unbreakable Ch. 3
MDNI- Minors Do NOT Interact
Masterlist
Warnings (overall)- MDNI; 18+ content; Dark themes: Non-con; TRAUMA/language/NSFW; Gore; explicit content; slight Dead Dove; not proof read- first story (please be kind), follows canon One Piece from Kidd Pirate's POV
Also quick tip- in any of my WIP's or fanfics, ALL characters are over 18 unless stated otherwise. Happy reading!
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Kidd doesn't wait. He hunts. And nothing will stand in the way of his prey.
Kidd POV
The Victoria Punk has been forced to her limits, racing against the ocean as fast as Kidd could push her. They caught the trail of the black market ship, following- always following they could never catch it on the water. It’s only been two days but they were becoming the LONGEST days Kidd has EVER had. He remembers this feeling. Helpless as someone he loved was in danger again. Defenseless as someone he cared about was taken from him. Powerless as there was NOTHING he could do to turn back time and stop it.
The crew felt it too. They missed you. You were family. And without your presence, without your calming hand, Kidd's mood swings were left unchecked. Not even Killer could tame the storm raging from the captain.
The Kidd pirates finally reached the ship- docked on the outskirts of the Sabaody island. The ship was there but it was wrong. Too still. Too quiet.
Kidd’s stomach twists. He’d chased them at their heels, and now… now the deck is empty. Chains clink faintly in the air behind the docks, but he doesn’t see you, his mouse.
“Shit.” His voice is a low growl. Killer skids to a stop beside him. No words. They both know.
The crates are gone. The people… gone. You were gone. Again.
Kidd’s hands curl into fists so tight his nails dig into his palms. The Celestials’ colors gleam in the sunlight — black and gold banners snapping in the wind. And somewhere on that island, you were being led… a prize.
He swears under his breath, teeth gritted. Rage spikes so hot he can feel it in his blood- radiating into the air.
“They won’t get away with this.” Kidd mutters, voice low and hard. “’ll tear this place apart if I have to.”
Killer hums beside him, punisher blades at the ready. No need for instructions. Kidd only needs one thing: you back in his arms, alive.
The crew scattered throughout the town, looking, searching, hunting.
“Where the hell are you, Mouse?” His voice cut through the air, sharp and dangerous, but there was an edge to it he didn’t bother hiding. Didn't care about the strange looks- some fear, others recognition. He didn't care he was a wolf among sheep. He didn't care about the whispers floating around him. Rage, worry, and possession rolled together like a storm inside.
You were alive. Somewhere. And he’s going to get you back. Nothing else mattered.
Kidd moved through Sabaody with his jaw locked tight enough to crack teeth. Every instinct screamed at him to tear the island apart—burn it down piece by piece until you fell back into his arms as the world bled.
But Killer stopped him. Not with force. With you.
“This place is crawling with Marines and Celestials partner,” Killer had said quietly, hand firm on Kidd’s shoulder. “If you lose control here… she’s the one who pays for it.”
Kidd hated that Killer was right. Even though he was always right. So he swallowed the fire. For now. He'd let that fire sit and burn like metal in a crucible waiting. It didn’t take long for the crew to start trickling back with information- leads. Each and every one the Kidd Pirates tore loose pointed to one place.
The Human Shop.
Kidd’s stomach twisted in something feral before turning to rage, stoking. Not saying a word as he headed for Tree 1- the crew following in silent loyalty. Ready to defend their captain. Ready to bring you home.
They could blend in easily as just themselves—scarred, armed, dangerous-looking enough that no one spared them a second glance. Sabaody was full of filth like this hiding in its shadows. A group of marauders lingering near a human shop didn’t even register.
The moment Kidd crossed the threshold, his skin crawled. The air was wrong. Too clean. Too practiced. Too casual about the suffering soaked into every surface. Your suffering. His hands curled into fists as his eyes swept the room, cataloging cages, collars, merchandise tags. People reduced to inventory. Kidd’s vision flashed red as he imagined you here—priced, displayed, handled like a thing.
His chest tightened. And everything catalogued became a new coal added to his forge- rage building into a pressurized weapon.
Hold on, Mouse, he thought fiercely. I’m here. Don’t you dare stop fighting yet.
His gaze sharpened, tracking every movement, every whisper. He wasn’t too late. He couldn’t be. Not when he was this close. Kidd put on his best mask—controlled, unshakable, every inch the captain the world expected from one of the Worst Generation. Fury simmered beneath the surface, but he swallowed it as the auction dragged on toward the final bid.
A fucking mermaid.
Leaning close to Killer, he hissed through clenched teeth, “She’s. Not. Here.”
Killer’s hand came to rest on his shoulder. Calm, unshaken. “Then we keep looking. We’ll find her, partner.”
To no one’s surprise, a Celestial Dragon claimed the mermaid with a sickly, nasally squeal of victory. Kidd’s jaw tightened, but he gave the signal. Leave. No point wasting time on a dead end.
Then chaos erupted. Straw Hat Luffy attacking the Celestial Dragon.
Fuck. Kidd’s mind snapped sharp. No time. No room to get caught in this shitshow.
“Kidd.” Killer’s grip was firm on his arm. “Use this.”
“Huh?”
“Use this to dig. If these bastards sold here, there’ll be records. More importantly—where.”
Kidd simply nodded, a low grunt escaping, and disappeared into the back rooms- boots crunching on scattered glass.
Killer moved like a shadow, slipping between stacks of ledgers and receipts, eyes scanning for anything that might point to their prey. His fingers traced the edges of papers, flipping through piles with surgical precision. If she was sold here, there’d be a trail. Kidd held on to that promise. He leaned against a beam, eyes dark, muscles coiled. The shop smelled of ink, polished wood, and fear—the kind only Celestials inspire. He let the chaos of the auction fade behind him, focusing on the low hum of Killer’s movements. Each scrape of paper, each quiet click, was a heartbeat. A countdown.
“Found something?” Kidd asked, voice low but sharp, the kind that made people flinch without being raised.
Killer held up a folded ledger, smudged with ink, edges torn from use. “Transaction log. Name, bid, buyer.” His hand tapped a line near the bottom. “Y/N. Bought by… Saint Charlos.”
Kidd’s hand tightened around the beam. Charlos. His mind replayed the auction, the sickly squeal. That son of a bitch has her.
Kidd strode forward, stalking through the cramped room. The clerk at the back jumped at his sudden appearance, sweat beading his forehead.
“Where is she?” Kidd’s voice was calm, almost deceptively soft. But the calm carried a blade-edge intent. Every syllable was a promise of carnage.
“I—I don’t know! I just—” The man stammered, flinching as Kidd leaned closer, his shadow swallowing the clerk.
“You do know,” Kidd interrupted, hand closing into a fist near the man’s shoulder. “She came through here. You saw her, handled her, put her in chains. Stop pretending, or…” His words trailed like a knife along the man’s spine.
Killer appeared at Kidd’s side, punisher blades quietly spinning, their presence alone enough to make the man’s knees wobble. “You want to make this easy, or do you want us to make it permanent?”
The clerk swallowed hard, trembling. “I—I’ll show you. The records… everything’s in the ledgers. Her… the Celestial… who bought her…” He paused, voice dropping. “The one attacked by that Straw Hat—yes… Saint Charlos. He bought her.”
Kidd’s eyes narrowed, lips curling into a grim, sharp-edged smile. “Straw Hat… attacked the buyer. Good. That chaos makes our job easier.” He gestured to Killer. “You’ve got the ledger. Copy everything. I want every name, every movement. She’s not staying there long.”
Killer nodded, already scanning the pages, moving like a predator with his prey in sight. Kidd’s hands flexed. Saint Charlos had her, that alone made the Celestial attainable. And Kidd’s violence would reign supreme upon anyone who dared keep his Mouse from him.
“Once we know everything,” Killer murmured under his breath, teeth gritted, “we hit hard. And anyone in the way… doesn’t get a second chance.”
“Like it’s a fucking question?” Kidd makes his way out of the backrooms, placing his mask of unshakeable steel back on. Ready to fight the marines surrounding the shop, ready to finally direct his anger at something. Ready to have you back in his arms.