mapi_littleowl: (Gundam Wing - Heero)
[personal profile] mapi_littleowl
Eventually, they'd found another use for him.

He was weak, and soft, and caring, and that was a nuisance up until the day he presented – and when he did there were laughs and pointed fingers and disappointement, but no surprise: it all added up, and instead of a nuisance it all became evidence they should have caught upon sooner.

Of course he had to be an Omega. Judge's failure had to be complete.

Sanji had cried that night, had apologised, like he always did, but this was beyond that. This was beyond repair.

The doungeon was Judge's idea, to keep the young boy out of his sight, out of his mind. He held a funeral for his lost boy – for a son that was supposed to be the opposite of what he had become, for a son he had great hopes for but became his largest disappointement. And, maybe, because he was so similar to that Omega woman he had, in his own, twisted way, really loved.

When they found out the truth, it suited the brothers just dandy – no one would come, no one would pry, no one would ask. They were free to do as they pleased.

So, eventually, they'd found another use for him; he was no longer a competitor, no longer a punching ball, no longer a disappointing brother: he was a bloody Omega, a fucking bitch, meant to bend over and carry pups and please the stronger and fitter Alphas, and with no one to stop them, the brothers new just fine what to do with him.

And they did.

In their limited intelligence, the boys had stalked their Omega brother's cycle, so they knew, when the smell would be more sweet, more intense, more enticing, they knew it was time.

It was Niji's idea – as all mischief came from Niji – but it was Ichiji who took him first. As Sanji was begging and crying, tears pouring out of his eyes and lubricant pouring out of his ass, Ichiji slammed in, dick red and hard, moving to and fro in a relenteless pace that made him even more excited. He spoke no words, but didn't restrain, either. It was just natural, to him, something he was entitled to, and he took it just like he took anything else that belonged to him. When he finished, he left behing a sobbing mess out of his Omega brother. He shrugged – like he was supposed to care?

A laugh filled the room.

"That's your place now, bitch, so you better learn fast how to use your ass!"

Niji was second, and he was even more reckless, even more rough. It was exciting, to him, adrenaline fueling every move, every insult coming out of his mouth as he fucked Sanji into the ground of his cell, uncaring of the cuts and bruises he was leaving behind; he only cared about the pleasure he was getting, how easy it was to fuck that pliant body, how intense was the smell of the Omega as his own orgasm approached.

Yonji, who came in third, was a biter, and a scratcher. It was all fun to him, leaving marks behing as he guided his dick inside the hot body beneath him. "You're such a good bitch, no wonder you sucked at everything else: this was what you were supposed to be doing all along. So take it, take it, take it!"

Sanji cried, nails digging in the ground, pain and fake pleasure travelling up and down his abused body. This was wrong. This had to be wrong. There had to be another way, a better way than being fucked again and again by those three, even thought his traitor body reacted to their voices, to their smell – he found his skin prickling at their touch, and it was not all disgust; shamefully, he wanted them, he needed them, the heat made him blind and needy and stupid, so stupid he would take them without a fight, with only as much as a complain.

And they mocked him for this, the little Omega bother who was supposed to be fit and strong like them – that was what their Father had wanted, what their Father had hoped – but instead came out as nothing more than a whiny hole they could fill and play with as they pleased.

Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and when Sanji had abbandoned all hope, when his only visitors where the guards that would bring him food and his brothers who would demand him sex, a new face appeared.

Reiju looked pale and red at the same time. She opened the bars with her bare hands, snuck into the cell and cradled him into her arms, lullying him to the point of tears, caressing his dirty heair and cleaning his dirty face.

"I will take care of you," she said as he clung to her desperately, because he didn't know what else to do. "I won't let them touch you anymore. You won't have to hear from us never again."

She raised him on his feet, dragged him along the way, an arm keeping him on his feet, hugging him close, and he followed her up the stairs and down endless corridors, and when they came to a halt the breeze of the see caressed his bruised face, his red knucles, his weak knees. It was refreshing. Reiju hugged him and pushed him off, leaving him to the sweet embrace of the see, shouting encouraging words as he tried his best to swim to the boat approaching nearby – it was the only idea she could come up with, and she was proud of it.

He would either survive, and live, and be loved as he deserved, or he would die a painful death, yet so much more preferable that the life he was living now under their family name.

She stood there until she couldn't see him anymore, until she was sure there was no way he could be coming back, and then she collapsed against a column, tears in her eyes. "Go live," she whispered, "go love," and the voice was caught up in her throat. "Go be happy, love mine."


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