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Kiki - Blog Posts

1 week ago
Us If We Were In Tadc:
Us If We Were In Tadc:
Us If We Were In Tadc:

us if we were in tadc:


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3 months ago

Lol


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5 months ago

Muquii: kiki do u wanna go to

A tea party?

Kiki:ok😐

(couldn't draw the background cuz im lazy)

Muquii: Kiki Do U Wanna Go To

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2 years ago

Promare and Little Twin Stars Team up for Adorable Sanrio Goods

Promare x Little Twin Stars

Sanrio doesn’t hesitate to cast their cute spell on any and all anime characters, no matter how surprising the crossover. The latest in that long list are Galo Thymos and Lio Fotia of Studio TRIGGER's Promare, riding through the sky’s with Sanrio’s Little Twin Stars.

A limited-time event for character goods shop The CHARA will sell a line of goods featuring art by Promare character designer Shigeto Koyama, with Galo and Lio in Sanrio style taking Kiki and Lala on a bike ride through the stars. The Little Twin Stars are decked out in the Promare stars’ iconic ensembes, too.

Up for offer are keyrings, mugs, mini towels, mirrors, tote bags, pinback buttons, and a transparent acrylic display piece:

Promare x Little Twin Stars wire keyrings
Promare x Little Twin Stars mug
Promare x Little Twin Stars mini towels
Promare x Little Twin Stars mirror
Promare x Little Twin Stars tote bag
Promare x Little Twin Stars pinback button
Promare x Little Twin Stars acrylic art piece

Purchases of 3,000 yen or more will win you a go in the event’s lottery. A-Prize winners will get one of two die-cut cushions featuring Koyama’s artwork. B-Prize winners get a set of six Little Twin Stars and Promare bromides, and C-Prize winners get one at random.

Promare x Little Twin Stars lottery

The Promare x Little Twin Stars x The CHARA Shop Collaboration starts today and runs until July 13.

Source: Comic Natalie

Kara Dennison @RubyCosmos
Promare And Little Twin Stars Team Up For Adorable Sanrio Goods

By: Kara Dennison


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3 weeks ago

Day 30 - 60 years

Day 30 - 60 Years

(i officially give up making old people. have happy retired kiki who still, at best, look middle age XD)

Original Prompt list by gratefulcheeses


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1 month ago

Gunpowder, Gelatin; Dynamite with a Laser Beam

Gunpowder, Gelatin; Dynamite With A Laser Beam

Chapters: 2 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Mature

Eustass "Captain" Kidd / "Massacre Soldier" Killer

Mob / Hitokiri Kamazo (aftermath of)

AKA: 8 days to Rally [Redux]

Summary:

Only one things changes. It shouldn't mean much, in the grand scale of things. One chromosome shifted. The story remains the same, the players unchanging in their roles. In every incarnation, Killer is Kidd's partner, and nothing will change that.

The story was already written. Their plight always set to follow this path. Nothing changes. Except...

There was no running water right now; Kidd making a promise to Killer for the world's most luxurious bath once this is all over, running the fingers of his right hand through her hair in attempt to brush it out. He was probably only making it worse, but they both needed this, this grounding soothing action. She made no attempt to stop him, still resting against his chest, her own hand warm over his heart, red nails tracing faint patterns against his skin. Soft touches were rare for the both of them these last weeks. Depending on how the night goes, it might be the last they get for a while. The light creaking of the ship in the harbor's gentle waters sooth away the early daylight hours, their infiltration having gone unnoticed despite the messes left in the galley. Messes they will be returning to shortly, mussed Kidd as he shifted, glancing at the soft dark red smear left on his own skin where blood has started to stain through the bandages across Killer's breast. She's still dozing against him, neither awake or asleep, and he's loathed to disturb her, but... He sat up, not so much a kiss, but a firm press of lips to the top of her head as he does. She gave him an irritated little warble and tried to bury her face in his collar, hunching so the fur coat hid more of her face.

warnings under cut

Warnings: Depictions Of Violence Rape/Non-Con (aftermath)

Additional Tags:

always a woman!"Massacre Soldier" Killer

Wano Arc (One Piece)

Killer injured from the fight with Zoro

author subscribes to fancanon:, Kamazo was an oiran for Orochi when he wasn't being used as an assassin based on his obi

discussions of previous injuries

very hurt!Killer

wearing each other's clothes

SMILE Fruit

Post Udon Prison

Rape Aftermath Implied/Referenced Underage Sex (later chapters) Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution (later chapters)

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat

warnings expanded upon in notes in the story start notes ->click on them to expand for more details


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3 months ago

Day 20 : Undercover

nothing explicit, but probably nsfw XD

sorry we're a day late - not one i could work on when my boss keeps stopping by

Day 20 : Undercover

Original Prompt list by @gratefulcheeses


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4 months ago

Day 08 Music

Day 08 Music

♫ ♩ He heard one guitar, just blew him away 𝄽

Too young for the club, but the beat lingers in his head long after they walk past.

Original Prompt list by @gratefulcheeses


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4 months ago

Day 6 - Feast

Day 6 - Feast

Sharing a meal.

this was my third attempt for this prompt. I was trying to draw something cute!!! I promise! But the cropped hair just stirred something in my soul and I had to go a different direction with it.

Personally, I'm torn on when Killer's arm actually got messed up. Part of me headcanon's it from back when the four were all still rivals - and Heat messed his arm up (and he messed Heat's face up). The other part thinks it happened during the Kidd Pirates confrontation with Big Mom's Sweet Generals.

For this image, we're going with the latter.

Original Prompt list by @gratefulcheeses


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4 months ago
Was My First Attempt For Day 6 - Feast, But I Didn't Feel Like The Final Result Was Was The Right Vibe

was my first attempt for day 6 - feast, but i didn't feel like the final result was was the right vibe i was trying to channel

However, i do really like how it turned it out.


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4 months ago

Day 5 Card Games

Day 5 Card Games

Our Kings of Hearts

The first idea was to draw each of the 4 commanders as a King card but i couldn't nail down who fit which suite best. Or couldn't convince myself to have Kidd not as one of the red cards XD My wife suggested the compromise of our dear partners sharing the Hearts card.

Traditionally, the King of Hearts is shown with a sword over his head, giving him the nickname "suicide king." Interestingly, this is the only king with no moustache.

Original Prompt list by @gratefulcheeses


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4 months ago
Read On A03 Or Under The Read More..
Read On A03 Or Under The Read More..
Read On A03 Or Under The Read More..

Read on A03 or under the Read More..

Kidd & Killer (and Heat & Wire) in SPACE!

Notes:

Wrote over the summer, i just really wanted some claustrophobic space stuff. Not sure how to expand it into anything larger, but the sandbox is open if anyone else wants to play

"Wire to KiKi?"

The radio called out a third time, only dead air in response back.

Stationed outside of the asteroid field, the Victoria Zeta drifted. She was on a skeleton crew for this run - the task retrieving lost cargo instead of their usual mining operations.

As the oldest of the four, Wire & Heat remained behind as their captain and his vice had gone to man the grappler. Wire was more than comfortable piloting V.Zeta when needed, even if he and Heat were technically maintenance crew. Captain was also navigator in times of trouble, able to recalculate paths as fast if not faster than the computer - a skill leading itself beautifully to the shifting fields of debris and stone. Killer was their first mate and lead pilot, but he excelled in the smaller craft the way few physically could, both with the fast chaotic spins she was known for and the small spaces he found more home than claustrophobic.

Right now, Kidd and Killer were out on their own in the smallest of their Victoria collective - the Victoria Punk - a small grappler pod more storage then crew space. There was a second more battle ready grappler - the Victoria Gibson - for outright dog fights. Both were designed for a crew of two, but Kidd was capable of soloing the Gibson as a tank if Killer needed to stay with the Punk to fly quick maneuvers - running distractions rather than outright fighting. The Punk was small but fast - and Kidd had taken advantage of Killer's smaller form to refit the ship to give himself more maneuverability in the arms.

<><>

"Wi.... Ki"

Lost among the screaming alarms was the tiny voice of the comm as Killer took to desperate measures to escape his tail. He'd been behind Kidd in the swivel trying to adjust a loose connection when the attack had thrust them off the face of the asteroid they'd been docked at - free spiraling into space; and he'd only not been thrown against the control panel by Kidd's quick response and holding in him place as they were knocked loose.

He'd slid into the cocoon of the pilot controls of the Punk and was trying to fly and battle alarms simultaneously when Kidd removed his helmet and pulled himself from the gun seat to hang off the shoulder of Killer's station.

"Just fly" he'd ordered - before all the sound fell away when Kidd's headset settled over Killer's ears. Kidd had disconnected the input, leaving Killer to the silence of space and dealt with the plethora of system warnings himself.

Killer knew the Punk by vibrations alone and instinctively continued and adjusted as his displays went in and out. Kidd- the only one who might know the Punk better than Killer - began triage on his ship.

"WiHe to - "

"Zeta - this is Punk. Head's up. We're being ambushed!"

Wire's voice paused. "You need Heat in Gibson?"

"Negative - just stay alert and be ready to grab us when we get to you. We don't have time for a dock at this point."

"Copy Captain"

<><>

Kidd eyed the next set of alarms worried. Killer was doing well in avoiding further damage but the Punk was starting to strain under his hair pin flying.

Killer was also without his helmet - the blue striped plating audibly clattering around the guts of Punk's arms right now.

Executive decision made - Kidd detached his left arm from the Punk's system, and tucked himself in fully behind Killer's station.

"Kidd?" Killer spared him a glace before unclipping the shoulder of his harness. He handed the right shoulder back blindly, trusting Kidd would take it.

"Wrap it behind you and I'll clip you in at the hip." It was an awkward moment of contorting, Kidd twisting himself full circle in the tiny cavity and handing the clip back on Killer's left. There was no room left for Kidd to try and twist to get the left shoulder in as Killer replaced the strap with the one now behind Kidd - the left strap retracting uselessly into the seat.

Kidd patted his partner's shoulder reassuringly, before hitting the seal between the pilot and gunner pods. Maybe before the modifications, this could have been comfortable, but those days where long past them. Really, Kidd was fine just as long as he didn't inhale too deep. He was still too tall for the area, knees bent to each side awkwardly, but when the inevitable leak happened, they would be on the same side of the door no matter the outcome.

And then it came - an explosive shudder as the hull of the Punk was breached and they were set spinning once again. Kidd wrapped an arm over Killer's torso to hold him when the tumbling sent them ass over heels and Killer left only restrained by the hip belt.

Kidd felt his vision hazing as Killer focused on missing the rocks over steadying the spin and he braved one moment to pat Kidd's arm reassuringly before every light in the cocoon turned red and every siren cut off all in one go.

There was an explosion behind them - something big - and then Kidd came back to himself as they drifted in silence. Killer was panting like he'd run a marathon, blond hair slipping from under his suit hood to plaster itself to his sweaty face. His focus was still solely on his flying, but it seemed to Kidd he'd not only shaken their tail but dealt with it permanently.

"KiKi to WiHe - do you copy?" Kidd asked as the alarm lights flickered out as he let go of Killer to begin dismissing them one by one.

"WiHe to KiKi - we copy."

Kidd squeezed Killer's shoulder as he relaxed, a half hearted massage just as much to calm him as to reassure Killer. "We're not going to be able to dock but we're on our way for a pick up."

"Grap and Go, or cargo bay?"

"Grab and go for now. We might have more friends lurking."

Killer would get them to Victoria Zeta - Kidd had no doubts. If they had a grabbler after that was anyone's guess.

<><><>

The Punks gunner segment was gone. Killer had managed to taunt their tail close enough they couldn't evade the mass when Killer'd forced it to detach.

"I'm sorry - " he's started, only for Kidd to press a kiss to his temple as they sat waiting. Heat had used Victoria Gibson to grab the pilot capsule of Punk, and the two remained clutched in Grison's grip as the other grappler remained docked. And they would remain there until the commanders had piloted Victoria Zeta back into the safety of deep space.

"I'll get you a new helmet, don't worry about it."

Killer scowled, "That wasn't what I meant."

Kidd dug his chin into Killer's left shoulder, eliciting a different angry noise, "I said what I said. We still have the Gibson. We'll figure things out. We always do."

The real question was why had they been baited to the run? Were they always the target or just the first unlucky saps to get there first?

Hell - were they even first? How many others had come out here only to meet their ends?

Kidd hated open questions.


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4 months ago

PostTime Skip Kidd & Killer

Same credits and size as above

PostTime Skip Kidd & Killer

HEAT & WIRE

PreSkip Killer & Kidd cross-stitch

PreSkip Killer & Kidd Cross-stitch

SIZE 28 CANVAS | 1.5 INCHES-ISH

While these designs are my own, the base and idea was designed by dehira : DeviantArt | Pixiv


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4 months ago

PreSkip Killer & Kidd cross-stitch

PreSkip Killer & Kidd Cross-stitch

SIZE 28 CANVAS | 1.5 INCHES-ISH

While these designs are my own, the base and idea was designed by dehira : DeviantArt | Pixiv

Edit: post time skip in the reblogs


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6 months ago
A Collection Of Non-linear Kidd & Killer Vignettes Using Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt List - Imagining
archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

A collection of Non-linear Kidd & Killer vignettes using Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list - imagining their pre-canon backstory, based on the crumbs given in the SBS.

Story ranges from them as small children all the way to the aftermath of Wano

Art included with each chapter (minus the bonus ones) First "Chapter" also includes a chronological order as well, but it may not read as smoothly.

This is a story that ranges in it's themes and ratings from chapter to chapter but is VERY MUCH AN ADULT STORY.

18+ !!!

All A03 Archive Warnings apply:

Depictions Of Violence ‡

Rape/Non-Con [not detailed] ‖

Underage [not detailed]

Character Death ‡

Plus

Children hurt/ in danger *

Teenagers hurt / in danger †

Food/Eating Issues

Poverty/homelessness

Self esteem/worth issues

ALL CHAPTERS ARE ALSO AVAILABLE ON MY TUMBLR

Prompts

Partners ¶

Back to Back * † ‡

Coat

Mask

Laugh ‡

Lipstick

Hair ‡

Care *

Loyalty †

Grief * ‡ ‖ >> soft/abridged version

Meeting ‡

Love Language

Diner † §

Punk

Modern

Highschool §

Sacrifice

Trust † ‡

Pirate King

Metal Trinkets * ‡

Battle ‡

Aftermath * ‡

Morning

Evening

Night

Cold ‡

Warm * ‖ ¶

Kimono

Date ¶ §

Tears ‖ ‡

Freeform ‡

No Art Bonus chapters

BONUS: Dialogue

BONUS: Smut § [A03 exclusive]


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6 months ago

31. 磁気

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
31. 磁気

Kidd - 6 | Killer - 10

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer watches a public execution

one that turns rather gruesome in the end

Killer steals food/money

brief mentions of food scarcity

Kidd gets first dibs on the pilfered goods

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Killer had learned long ago that public executions were one of the best times to steal things - not just from the shops, but lifting money right out of people pockets; adults to wrapped up in the brutal displays to care much about his tiny wandering fingers.

And while Kidd was great and begging, and a perfect distraction for Killer's thieving the rest of the time, big groups like today's had Killer feeling uneasy, and the boy was left to play in the Heaps alone.

With pockets stuffed and a bag of fresh fruit and bread sung over his shoulder, Killer was ready to skulk back to the safety of the junk yards when another cheer went up in the crowd. He heard someone making some kind of announcement, but couldn't really understand it. The crowd seemed to because the cheering was deafening.

Curiosity getting the better of him, Killer climbed up onto the low roofs of a shop patio and tried to understand what had everyone so wound up.

There was a man in a white uniform on the center stage, and some of the men Killer recognized from the City Guard dumping water on him. Everyone cheered when they did.

"Seanmhair,” he called over to one of the women standing off on her own in a balcony above him, "Who is that man?"

She wore a large smile, beaming down at him with her round face, "Marines sent another of of their devil fruit men to bring us to heel. Poor bastard thought we'd be an easy mark with the Heaps - guess he forgot just how much lead they dump on us." She cackled.

Killer didn't really understand what she meant, but she clearly found it funny, so he laughed too.

"Why do they keep pouring water on him?" He'd watched people bigger than him die face down in a barrel of water, but to keep upended it on the Marine-man confused him.

"Seawater dear," the woman explained kindly, gesturing him to climb up and watch from her railing, "When you steal power from the sea, she never stops trying to take it back. Makes devil fruit eaters prostrate themselves before her no matter what form she takes."

They were fitting a noose over the man's head, the crowd seaming to hold their breath. Killer did too, clutching his bag in his lap as he leaned forward on his precarious perch on the old wood beam to watch.

There's more talking, the man trying to scream at that around the gag, and then someone waves their arm and the floor dropped out from under the marine man. He fell, the rope make a 'wrhiip' noise and the he was left thrashing at the end of the line.

The crowd went wild. The lady next to Killer just tutted, shaking her head. He looked up at her curiously.

"Didn't math it right." she told him, voice pitched like some kind of warning, "Really is best for everyone when the neck breaks - now he's gotta dangle. If he had any friends, they'd pull on him to hurry it up, but the Marines have no friends here."

Killer watched as it seemed to take forever. Sometimes, the joints of the buildings would whine, and a few people in the crowd would reach for their weapons, and then someone would dump more water on the man and the world went still again.

In the end, someone either got bored or sympathetic, and a man climbed up on the stage and pulled his knife out.

The crowd cheered and the man made a grand display of strutting around with his knife overhead.

"Dear, you should look away now," the old lady said, hand reaching over to pat his head kindly, before stopping to consider what might be living in the dirty tangles. She tugged lightly on the lip of his bag where it peaked under his arms instead, to get him to look up at her.

"They gonna kill him finally?"

"Yeah, but it'll be messy."

Killer found himself looking back, enraptured. He'd seen men die before; beaten, drowned, burned. Never cut open though. The lady just tutted again, but let him be.

The man with the knife stepped forward to the dangling Marine. And then he draw the blade quickly across the exposed neck. And there was so. Much. Blood.

Killer found his mouth going dry, watching the red get everywhere. The man stopped jerking around under the rope very quickly after that.

All that time spend dangling, and so quick to die once the knife came out.

The crowds below started to break up, and Killer realized his window of getting out of town unnoticed with his pilfered goods was closing quickly.

"Bye Seanmhair!" he called to the lady as he started to lower himself over the railing, judging the drop to the street below as he dangled. She said something back, he wasn't sure what, and he was dropping down with a mostly controlled landing, falling on his ass at the end but unhurt. And then he was darting through the streets, bag clutched close, pockets still stuffed, and today must have been a lucky day, because no one messed with him all the way home.

Later, as Killer emptied his pockets, he described - if somewhat abridged - the execution, though Kidd has a lot more questions about the hanging than Killer knows how to answer.

"Auntie said they didn't math it right. So the rope was wrong."

Kidd looked at his suspiciously. "Math?"

"I guess." Killer shrugged, not really sure himself, "Like... I guess the rope verses how heavy the guy is or something? You want his neck to snap, so it's quick."

"Math someone to death.." the kid muttered, looking in awe of the idea.

"Sure..." Killer chuckled.

Kidd found Killer's laugh funny sounding, and it caused him to join in. But the kid's laugh was.. kind. Not mocking like the other boys, and Killer liked to see him happy.

Killer counted through the money he's lifted that day, counting out some of it and handing it to Kidd. "Hold on to this for a little bit, I'm gonna go hide the rest of this." - It wasn't safe to keep this much money with them, even if hiding it didn't always guarantee it's still be there later. But Killer had a few good spots no one had found yet, and the only others who'd known about them long dead, and he slipped out to go distribute today's money.

Kidd stuck the coins he'd been handed into the bag Killer had left with him as to not loose it, before rummaging though the fresh perishables Killer had loaded up on. Bread and fruit were delicious, and hard to get a hold of, but also not worth stealing in large amounts because they went bad so quick. But Killer had though it worth the risk today, and they had a wonderful feast when he got back.

The problem was waiting for Killer to get back. Kidd's stomach grumbled irritated as he  looked over one of the bread loaves, biting his lip. He set it aside, pulling some of the fruit free for inspection.

They weren't rotted or bruised at all, and the kid set them out in a line - some he'd never even seen before. A few had hard peels or something to them, and others were fuzzy. And then there was the one that looked like a bunch of grapes, its vine twisted up all around it still, crooked little spines on the fruit, but curiously not spiny or sharp.

Unfortunately, even if it didn't stab him when he plucked one and bit into it, it sure didn't taste very good. Kidd was glad this was the only one - he didn't want Killer to have had to go though all this work just to find out he stole gross fruit. Kidd would eat all of this one and hope Killer wouldn't try and steal more of them again in the future.

jikijiki


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6 months ago
archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Bonus Smut chapter. you're gonna have to go to A03 for this one folks.


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6 months ago

29. Date

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
29. Date

Kidd - 18 | Killer - 21

Tags specifically for this chapter:

discussions of minors and sex

Kidd confronts Killer on him leaving

Killer struggles with Kidd's age

discussions of teenagers and age gaps

would they actually talk about this irl/cannon - i dunno...

probably not... but then again, they are soft about the other

be ready for an awkward fight that they've been needing to have a for a few years now

but also needed to wait to have until Kidd matured a little bit

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

They were supposed to be going out on the town, the island they'd docked at having a wide selection of restaurants and concert halls and other amusements. They'd been loitering in the area past their departure as the days slowly ticked away in the second week of the new year, specifically for tonight. Instead, Kidd and Killer found themselves drinking in the quiet galley, sharing gossip and reminiscing about an island that never quite felt like home there at the end.

About the wild exploits of The Kid Boss of the Heaps - a teenager that had managed to unify the unmanageable, and how even Killer's Boss had sat up and took notice before their group had imploded.

Kidd had had a few times where the same had almost happen to him too, before he really came to understand the power he'd found himself responsible for - "People only fear you for so long before they hate you enough to do something about it." Which was terribly profound when you realize a 16 year old had come to understand this before the adults around him did.

"At least you had some charisma that got you a few people that had your back. Nobody followed me because they thought I was going to be a good Boss. I was just the poor bastard left standing with the dust cleared. As soon as they realized they had other options, it was an exodus. Most of them defected to you or Wire pretty fast."

"I did notice an uptick of sycophants after that one meeting we had."

"I believe I warned you about that."

Kidd nodded. "Yeah... yeah, you warned me about a few things. You were right - about using my fruit around people. It being a bad idea."

"... I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well. Live and learn."

"I hope you smeared the assholes to paste."

Kidd chuckled darkly, "I did indeed. They were worthless; be glad they ditched out on you."

"It was only a matter of time before they left. They all do." Killer conceded, sipping his beer though a straw Dive had found... somewhere. "Just sorry you had to deal with them."

"You left me." He hadn't meant it accusatorially, not really. Just a statement of fact. But once it was out, Kidd felt a little angry about the whole thing. Killer just going on about being left behind, oh woe is me, but he did the same damn thing.

Killer frozen in place, before slowly putting his mug on the table. Kidd could feel him looking to the galley exit, calculating how to leave.

Fuck that.

"Was I that awful to be around?"

Killer rubbed his palms on his jeans, and Kidd swallowed thickly around the lump forming there.

"Oh."

"Look.. It..." Killer got up then, and Kidd watched him start to pace, feeling more and more uneasy with each anxious step Killer took. "It wasn't you, it was me... Well, it was you but it wasn't your fault."

"I have no idea what that means."

Killer's head is tilted up like the ceiling holds the answers.

"Killer, what the fuck does that mean?"

Killer shook his head, and Kidd stood up abruptly, ready to block him from fleeing.

"Killer! What did I do?"

"It wasn't your fault." Killer reiterated, and that didn't make anything clearer, and they both knew it. "You were just... You were kind of a lot... at.... that age..."

"I was 14! What are you on about?" As soon as the words left his mouth, Kidd had a sickening feeling starting to form in his gut. It must have shown in his face, because Killer glanced at him once before quickly looking away.

"You... got a little.. handsy. At night."

"Handsy?"

"A lot handsy. And.. clingy?" His voice pitched like a question, like he was trying to find a way to word Kidd's apparent behavior while downplaying it at the same time.

Kidd slumped against the table they'd just been enjoying drinks at. "How bad was I?"

"Four Blues, Kidd - you were awful." Killer groaned, "Every fucking night, three times a night, minimum, you'd be all over me."

"I... I.."

"Every time I thought it safe to drift off, you start making these little noises and I was so sleep deprived, Kidd. So sleep deprived. I'd leave in the morning purely to go sleep in Ceannard's office for a couple hours."

"I was 14!"

"When I was 14, I would get up and fucking take care of it - you just.." Killer voice had a panicky edge he'd never heard, before pointing wildly at him, "Every fucking morning, I wake up and had to deal with you getting off dry humping me. And you didn't even have the decency to be awake!"

"So you should of woken me and told me to knock it the fuck off!" Kidd paused, head cocking to the side as he studied how Killer had tensed up, bad shoulder touched in - "You didn't want me to wake up. You didn't... you didn't want me to know. Why?"

The mask hides a lot - Killer was always too expressive - his face an open book. But the mask didn't hide everything. Not from Kidd at least.

"You were into it."

Killer shook his head. Not a denial of Kidd's words, a denial that they were being spoken in the first place. He was coiled up so tight Kidd wasn't sure he was even breathing anymore.

"You liked me all rubbing up on you." Kidd almost wanted to preen at that, anyone else he would be puffed out proud. Instead a knot formed in his gut. You got off on it He keeps himself from saying, the thought tangling in his throat, forcing him to swallow thickly. Or you wanted to at least...

Killer made to widen the gap, but Kidd wouldn't let him, crowding him up against the wall.

"Then why would you leave?" he cried, not understanding at all, "I was horny, you were horny, what was the problem? We coulda fucked around a little, so what?"

"Because Killer might be good for a quick fuck, but nobody sticks around long after!"

Kidd started at him quietly, stunned, step back like Killer's words had been a physical blow. Killer hunched in himself, slouching back, surprised by his own confession.

"Killer..."

"I thought... I thought if I left first it would hurt so bad. You were getting along with the other Heaps' and you had a reputation for being an tough asshole so I thought... I thought you'd be okay."

Kidd pressed his fingers up on the bottom lip of Killer's mask, a request not a demand, his brows pinched unhappily.

Killer relented, and pulled the helmet off. But Kidd surprised him by taking it from him, holding it in his hands thoughtfully. He studied the interconnected plating, planning on how he'd make the next one different - better ventilation and more internal padding around the ears.

"I really liked Vicky." He started solemnly, "The three of us. Hanging out together. And sure, I wasn't thrilled about the two of you ditching me all the time. I thought maybe I was jealous of you for a long time, getting to hang out with her alone. And maybe I was... But I think I was also jealous of her. But then she was gone." Kidd spoke to the helmet, easier to say this to the empty drill marks than the man in front of him. "But that was okay because I still had you. And .. And I really liked being with you. I always felt safe, and waking up every morning with you right there... and then.. and then you weren't anymore. Even before you left, you started to be distant, and I hoped maybe you just got a new girlfriend and after the novelty wore off things would go back to how they were."

Killer was quiet, watching his hands fiddling with the metal, before he gently took the mask back.

"But it was me. You left because of me."

The worst part was Killer couldn't even disagree. He turned away from Kidd to put the helmet aside. "I left because I didn't know how to tell you no. I left because I rolled over and let anyone fuck me for a kind word, and I knew that I'd let you too, if you wanted. But you were 14 and you're my kid, and it got all weird and complicated and I didn't know how to see you as someone who wanted sex yet and .. And I was scared if I gave in, if let you take what you wanted, you'd toss me aside too once you were satisfied... so I ran away before you could."

"And if Vicky hadn't died... would you have ever talked to me again?"

He watched Killer's hand caress the line of white and blue. "No." He said finally. "No. You were doing so well; I was so fucking proud of you. You turned into this great man: You united the Heaps, made them believe they were people again. You had all them following you because they saw you were someone worth following. And I knew that I didn't have anything to do with that. That was all you. And I didn't deserve to talk to you anymore."

"Excuse me?" Kidd frowned, "What the fuck do you mean - you didn't have anything to do with that? You don't deserve to talk to me? What are you on about?"

When Killer didn't answer, Kidd grabbed his elbow and forced him to turn back, "Look me in the face and say that bullshit again!"

Killer stubbornly remain quiet.

"No!" Kidd growled, "I've gladly bashed the face in of anybody who talked shit about you. Don't think I'm gonna let you say it either."

Killer opened his mouth to start to say something but then stopped again.

"Killer!" frustrated, Kidd grabbed Killer's face in his hands, forcing him to look at him, "Say it to my face. If you're going to insult my friend, have the balls to say it to my face."

Killer met his eyes this time, blue to orange, complementary and contrasting in equal parts, and Kidd frowned at the pained pinch at the corners, the shame Killer wore in his features. He didn't understand, and no searching helped him find the reason. "Why would you ever say that you aren't the reason I got this far in life?"

Killer tried to escape his look by closing his eyes, but Kidd shook him softly; Killer's long lashes brushing his thumbs when he opened them again.

"Why did you leave me?" he tried again.

"You were 14...."

The light went on this time, Kidd breathing out a soft, "Oh" as Killer tried to look away again. Kidd rubbed his thumb against Killer's cheekbone, tipping his head back until their eyes met again. "I'm not anymore."

Killer was starting back at him, a fearful guarded look. But now, now Kidd thought he understood. He smiled back, tone soft, "Can I kiss you?"

The fear was still there, but Kidd would show him. He waited until Killer lowered his gaze, but nodded, a soft, "Okay" that was both defeated and begging.

Kidd smiled, hands sliding up Killer's cheeks to brush his bangs away and placed a soft kiss to Killer's forehead, smirking at the red painted lip marks left behind. Killer was looking up at him curiously though his lashes. Kidd rearranged Killer's bangs until the mark was hidden under wild hair.

"It's my birthday... come have dinner with me?"

"Okay."


Tags
6 months ago

28. Kimono

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
28. Kimono

Kidd - 22 | Killer - 26

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Kidd injury recover from loosing his arm

Killer's not doing much better mentally

bathing again

with hair washing role reversal

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

-thank you wife for telling me kimono (きもの/着物) literally just means 'thing to wear' and helping me get unstuck with suggesting coat redux.

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He's starting to remember more and more of each day, the haze of pain and drugs slowly lifting as his body heals. What was once just vague feelings are starting to be actual lucid moments, a few minutes at a time.

<><><>

Killer's there at his side every time he comes around; even if he can't remember, he knows it's true.

Killer's on the chair facing him today, feet propped up on the nightstand, but careful not to disturb the bottles of meds or the canteen of water. He's fiddling with something in his lap, but Kidd's not sure he has the facilities to figure out what.

<><><>

When he drifts back again, he practically begs Killer to let him up; he's exhausted, he's hurting, but he also has to pee and he would like to take a piss like an adult for once.

Halfway there, and Kidd knows they aren't going to make it if Killer walks him there - and Kidd relents and lets himself be carried if only for the fact it means he won't piss on himself in the hallway.

He'd hate all of this more if he had the energy to even make it back to bed before he's passing out again.

<><><>

He wants to eat with the crew.

He wants to see his crew.

Heat & Wire keep assuring him everyone if fine, but they're too quick to placate and refuse anything more. Killer won't even entertain his questions, and Kidd nearly cries when he finally has the awareness to notice that Killer's hair is almost completely gone, shorn just past the helmet.

He can't bring himself to ask, and Killer offers nothing back.

Kidd needs to see his crew.

<><><>

Finally Killer relents, but he has his own stipulations. The big one being Kidd needs to look presentable if he's doing this.

Kidd - who is tired of sponge baths and fever sweat sheets - allows him to be man handed into the bathroom again, this time letting Killer pamper him in the warm tub. He's too tired and heavy to appreciate it fully, but soaking in the warm water already has him feeling more like a person again, and he lets Killer scrub him down, wash his hair, tend to his still healing wounds.

Kidd see them for the first time, then. He'd been aware his left arm was gone, but it didn't sink in until he sat in the water, bandages off, healing stitched skin on display. It's not just his shoulder, but his reflection in the water, his neck and chest, his gut. His right arm bears more marks from where he tried to defend himself and if he crosses his forearm across his chest he can see the long injury drawn out across his entire body, from forehead to groin.

No wonder Killer's been so quiet. Gormaichean. He owns his partner big for this - the fright he must have caused the man.

Its a wake up call, as he watches Killer mother him in the water's reflection, combing his hair like the invalid he is. He can't even bring himself to bitch about it, instead just letting the continuous motion and the still water lull him into a doze, until the bath starts to cool and he's all prunie and wrinkled.

Then Killer's hauling him up and toweling him down, and Kidd says nothing about the zen-like focus his partner pays him, afraid to break whatever peace Killer has found in the actions. The absolute concentration Killer directs at him once he is clean and dry, and Killer starts to work the ointment into his stitches before wrapping them once again.

The stitches still pull at his left eye a bit, and it feels like Kidd is just endlessly crying. He's almost relieved when Killer wraps his face back up, the tears hidden in the gauze.

Killer gives him a moment to compose himself as he slips Kidd's legs into his pants, starts dressing him slowly and reverently. Slides his boots on for him and laces them like they're something precious.

The shirt Killer pulls out to dress him in is unfamiliar. Unlike Killer, who liked to hide behind long sleeves and higher collars, Kidd's ruined too many shirts with his devil fruit, the small sharp edges that came hand in hand with weapons and scraps tearing the sleeves to shreds after a single fight. But he doesn't have the range of motion right now to be pulling a tang top on and off. Kidd is too broad chested for it to be one of Killer's, the solid dark colour not in his partner's usual tastes either. It's short sleeved and very low necked, and it's a button up that Kidd realized was Wire's as Killer slide it up his right arm. It's a snug fit around his bicep but it's not unwelcome, and the hem stops just short of the thickest part of the wrapping on his left arm as Killer carefully works it over the healing stump.

While his face heals, Kidd's not surprised Killer doesn't offer him his googles, but at least the bandages have the side effect of covering his forehead and keeping his hair pushed back out of his eyes.

<><><>

He hadn't realized he'd drifted off again until he he wakes up to the feeling of anxiety. Not his own, but his partner's.

Killer's staring at their makeup bag on the bathroom counter - foundation in hand; It's going to rub off on the bandages all over Kidd's face. Kidd decides for him, pulling the bag closer and picking out the black eyeliner pen and his favorite shade of red eye-shadow. "You can at least fix up my good eye, yeah?"

It's the first thing either if them have spoken since entering the bath

Killer patiently paints his face back on, Kidd watching him intently, trying to get a read on him though the mask.

It's not usually this hard, but Kidd knows things have changed again.

Kidd lost.

It's been a very long time since that's happen. He'd forgotten the feeling.

He drops his jaw gently, parting his lips as Killer pulls out his favorite lipstick, Killer's thumb pressing against his chin. Kidd can see Killer's eyes this close, his attention completely on his task.

His hand is next, Killer matching the nail polish to Kidd's lipstick; Kidd realizing with a pang that it maybe a long time, if ever, before he's able to do things like this for himself now.

Its intolerable: this weakness. It is inexcusable, especially from a Captain. Kidd can not loose again. He wont stand for it and neither should his crew.

Killer inspects Kidd's appearance, seeming hyper aware of the way every hair falls, and even with out gelling it up, spends a few moments carefully arranging the drying locks.

Kidd's hates every moment of it, hates that Killer is still so shaken that he's stressing about how Kidd's hair is styled.

"You died." Heat will tell him later, just the two of them as Wire takes watch and Killer finally, FINALLY falls asleep. "And Boss Killer was more than willing to follow you. I thought he was going to turn on us when we tried to stop him."

Hates that he was too weak to protect Killer from himself.

Satisfied, Killer steps back to look him over, a Captain's Return. Kidd understands why Killer believes they need this, the crew need to see Kidd as someone strong, even if Kidd doesn't feel that himself at the moment.

But Killer has one last touch, pulling a heavy weight across Kidd's shoulders. Physically, physically, it's not too much - Kidd thought his coat destroyed and gone, but Killer appears to have salvaged the red fur lining and it's been reworked into a presentable coat once again. it's also nearly a third of the weight of the original one, and his left arm can shoulder the weight with little strain. The weight on his heart, however is crushing.

Killer carefully balances it over his shoulder's draping it back like a King's cloak.

Kidd will earn that weight back. He won't fail them again.


Tags
6 months ago

27. Warm

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
27. Warm

Kidd - 8 | Killer - 12 | Victoria - 13

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Children in danger

Sick!Killer

Kidd is out of his depth

aftermath of Grief

Enter Victoria

drug use (pills) both 'prescribed' and not

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

"What's wrong with him?"

Kidd startled, and the mystery voice yelped as scrap metal flung itself at her haphazardly. Kidd armed himself with a pipe, planting himself firmly between the girl who'd dropped to the ground, and Killer's still sleeping form.

Seeing as no other attack followed, the girl looked up tentatively, before glaring at him as she stood up, brushing the filth from her shorts. Kidd just adjusted his grip on the pipe.

"You're Kidd, right? I've seen you two around town."

"Yeah, so what?" Kidd hisses.

"So, what happen?"

"None of your business."

She blinks at that, looking honestly surprised. "oh.. okay. Fair, i guess." she shrugs, turning to leave.

"I can't get his fever to go down." Kidd admits. She stops, looking back at him. "We got .. we got ambushed. Killer got hurt and now he was a fever and no matter how many times I change the bandages, he doesn't get better."

"You can't... You gotta do more than just change bandages," she muttered, cautiously approaching him. "Can I see?"

The blond boy under the rags is shivering and panting, blue eyes glazed over and unresponsive. His skin is warm and clammy, splotchy red where it's not paper white pale. She doesn't even need to see more to know this is way past her expertise.

"He needs a doctor."

"They don't see Heaps kids," Kidd said bitterly, and Victoria's heart broke - it sounded like the kid had already tried that only to be turned away.

She pulled the makeshift blanket away further, the dirty bandages wrapped to the best an eight year old could manage. She didn't dare try and unwrapped them again with nothing to wash the area. "Okay... okay, let me think..."

Kidd pulled the blanket back up, small face twisting in grief. At least she didn't have to explain to the boy the dangerous situation his friend was in. "Sure."

He looked at her, like he didn't dare to hope. "Help me get him up, I'll carry him." she said, kneeling down so Kidd could drag his friend up onto her back.

"What.. what's the plan?"

"The nurse at the boarding house."

Kidd paused, look at her like she was an idiot. "We're not allowed in the Mill's houses."

Victoria started walking without him.

"Wait! Wait! We're not allowed in!!"

"You're not allowed in." She corrected, "But I am, and if I go to the infirmary Ii should be able to avoid the Widow Matron. It's early enough in the day that the only ones in the house are working and they are too busy doing chores to bother with me."

She was right, even if Kidd was left at the gates to pace worriedly.

<><><>

It was starting to get dark and Kidd was staring infuriated at the large foreboding stone building, angry tears falling without his permission as he waited for any word on Killer or the girl who'd whisked him away. He felt a fool, sure that he' been swindled and now his only friend had been stolen away after everything they'd gone though to stay together.

Killer had worked so hard to keep them together and safe, and Kidd had just lost him.

One of the men at the gates was watching him suspiciously, whispering to on of the other men. Well, let them whisper. Kidd wasn't going anywhere. He wiped some of the snot and tears from his face, glaring back at them, daring them to try and run him off.

He wasn't expecting someone from inside to call his name, some older auntie asking for him to be let inside. The men at he gates seemed just as surprised.

"His sister fell ill today, the poor child's just waiting to hear she's okay."

"Ma'am, no one's allowed in or out after curfew..." One of the men stated nervously, wilting immediately under her glare. Kidd wasted no time squeezing though the gate bars and running to the woman's side unprompted. The men grumbled, but seemed like chasing a kid down wasn't worth their time.

"You're Shiruton's friend, yes?" the woman asked him quietly, and Kidd nodded; He didn't know who Shiruton was, but he'd be whatever she claimed he was if it meant he got to see Killer again. The older woman was waking across the yard carefully, faux-casually staying to the shadows and Kidd made sure to do exactly as she did. They slipped around the side of the larger building, entering in though a food prep area before navigating to the brink building's infirmary.

Victoria sat waiting for him, sitting in a wooden chair next to a bed at the end with the curtain drawn. She must be Shiruton then, Kidd assumed.

Kidd practically threw himself at Killer, even if his friend still slumbered on. He smelt funny - a sharp tangy smell that also filled the room in general. The woman hissed at him, and bodily drug him back off the bed. "You are filthy, get down!"

Kidd hissed at her, fulling intending to bite her for manhandling him. For separating him from Killer.

"Stop it!" She warned him, "You will wash and if you don't have lice or fleas, then I will let you back on the bed."

Wash? Kidd started at her blankly, so thrown that he forgot he was upset. He wiped his hands on his shorts, and held them up for inspection. Her and Victoria both looked horrified. "I'll take him," Victoria volunteered, her face still pinched.

She lead him to a privacy room off to the side, and introduced him the joys of hot water and showers. And then the doldrum of soap and shampoo. She also took his clothes and informed him they should be thrown away, before lending him a nightshirt that was practically a nightgown on him. He stood once again for inspection by the nurse, right down to her checking his scalp with a comb.

"Clean enough for now - go on then." She dismissed him before talking quietly with Victoria for a moment before sending the girl away to her own room before she was noticed missing.

He was at Killer's side in a flash, gingerly climbing up on Killer's right side, avoiding the injuries he knew festered on Killer's left. The injury was unwrapped, and the nurse waited for him to settle before speaking.

"This is a third degree burn, and it's infected. You need to make sure it stays clean." No eight year old should be the one receiving these directions - a doctor should be caring for these children. but Victoria had sad all she needed to hear - Heap's Boys. No one was going to care about if they lived or died. Her Bosses certainly wouldn't either.

She showed the little redhead a jar of cream she'd prepared. "You want to gently use this on the whole area - every day." She demonstrated how to apply it, before then showing how how to correctly wrap the area. Next she showed him a little orange bottle she'd prepared. "He needs to take one of each color, every singe day, until they are gone. Kidd, this is very very important. He has to take all of them. Even if he starts to feel better, he has to take them all."

Once he nodded solemnly, she set it on the top of the burn creme jar. "Make sure he's drinking clean water, as much as he can stomach. After the pills are gone, he might still want some pain killers, just make sure he's taking only as much as he absolutely needs."

And... easy part done. now the hard part. She handed him the last packages she'd prepped. "I was able to stop the bleeping - it's healing up now, but over the next week or so it still needs to heal. You need to make sure he soaks in a warm bath of this, twice a day." He looked over the collection, pointing a the creme - "one a day", the pills "once a day until they're gone," and then hold up the little box of powder, "twice a day."

It may not be enough, but at least she tried. She'd have to kick them out before sun up, hoping the meds would have enough time to get the older boy somewhat lucid. He had already started to sweat, and his temperature was slowly coming back down. Until then, she watched as the younger boy crawled under the thin little blanket to curl up on the narrow bed with his partner.

<><><>

Once they're back on the streets, getting clean water proves to be a task too large for Kidd, try as he might. He's got enough for Killer to either drink it or wash in it, and Kidd finds someone to trade the bath mix to. He brings back soups and painkillers and holds Killer tight when he cries in pain. Holds him tighter, scared when too many of the pills Kidd bought on the street puts Killer in a limp daze as they try to find the right dosage. The bleeding comes back every few days, but it looks less and less each time, so Kidd just hopes and prays

Slowly, Killer heals, and the infection clears up. Kidd can tell that walking hurts for a long time, and his arm is still messed up pretty bad. But Kutsukku doesn't care, and they both know Killer needs to suck it up or the Heaps will eat them both alive.


Tags
6 months ago

25. Night

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
25. Night

Kidd - 21 | Killer - 25

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Heat & Wire have left to go on a date

leaving Kidd and Killer unattended

Killer is our short!King

Hogmanay/First-Foot preparations

chores turned shenanigans

Pomp would like you to take this elsewhere

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

While the Punk would be a wild party later for Hogmanay, most of his crew was off making last minute preparations or napping in advance for the long night. The unchanging standard daylight hours of the Grand Line forcing them to adjust some celebrations, seeing as it would have been long past sundown if they'd been back on Kutsukku by this time of the afternoon. Kidd been trying to find Killer, only to be soundly kicked out of the galley by Pomp, who'd warned him that only the cooking brigade was allowed in there until Killer said so.

"Well, bring him out, I wanna talk to him."

"Oh - no ones in here but me. The prep work is done, and I'm just keeping an eye on a few things that are in the ovens. And to discourage any raids." He climbed back up to his perch on the counter where he'd been messing with some new project. Kidd felt he should say something back, but was so bewildered by being dismissed so causally by one of his own men that he ended up just wandering back out the galley and started for the stairs up deck.

Only to stop, blink, and take two steps backwards, looking down the hall to the crews quarters.

Killer was dragging a little two step ladder around, swapping out light bulbs on the hallway wall. Two steps up, unscrew the light cover, take out the dead bulb. Two step down, dead bulb in one box, new bulb from the second, still in protective wrapping. Unwrap, trash the packaging, then two steps up. Replace bulb, screw cover closed, two steps down. Drag everything over three feet towards the galley and repeat.

"Why is our shortest commander the one replacing light bulbs?"

"I think the better question is why is the guy who wired our ship afraid to change out the bulbs himself?"

"I mean… we did kick him off the ship" And they'd done so every December 31 for 5 years now. As Mr. Tall Dark and Mysterious, Wire been unanimously named qualtagh. He didn't fight it to much, and he'd even had a song to go with it that his mother had taught him as a small child. Technically he just had to disembark the ship before midnight and then come back after the bell tolls. One time they'd been at sea for the new year and had dumped him on a life raft for a few minutes before hauling on board again.

"I told him if he changed these out I'd talk to you and we could kick Disk J or Gig out instead. Make them qualtagh this year. He said no way, and took Heat with him before sunrise."

"… should I be worried about the Punk?"

Killer laughed before he caught himself, an easy sound when it was just the two of them. Wire had been a good sport about the whole life boat thing, but this year Wire had declared if he was to remain qualtagh, then no one was allowed to bother him or Heat until he returned on his own after midnight. "I think we're okay; Anyway, we put all of these in at the same time, it makes sense they all burned out at once." /Please be why they all went out at the same time…/ "New Lights for New Year - gotta be something in that."

"Y'all are a bunch of superstitious fools."

"You're just bummed we couldn't find Trafalgar in time for First-Foot."

"He's probably keeping himself submerged on purpose."

Killer made to step down but Kidd gently -pushed- the ladder over to the next fixture, dragging the boxes with him, and started unwrapping a new one. "Thanks," Killer murmured, opening the casing, "I.. I don't think Trafalgar celebrates First-Foot…"

Kidd took the burned out bulb from him and handed him a new one, "I … may have made allusions to ruining his new year last time we ran into each other."

The bulb light up brightly once it was screwed in, and Killer closed up the casing. Kidd watched the way the light reflected off his helmet, the hint of a beard he'd stopped shaving off every morning at his chin, more noticeable from this lower angle.

"Only one that'd be funnier to crash in on would be Monkey, but the bastard's already had a shit year. He doesn't need my help." He -pushed- Killer over to the last bulb on the hall.

"That's almost thoughtful of you."

 "Hardly. It woulda just been a waste of my talents."

Killer shook his head in bemusement, last bulb bright. Kidd went to start putting things away when Killer dragged the step stool over to one ceiling light over the archway to the mess hall. It had been burned out so long Kidd had forgotten about it. It was also much higher than the rest, the entry way build so Wire & Mosh didn't have to duck to get in.

Climbing up, Killer was still a few feet too short to reach. Kidd watched in amusement as his partner stretched on tip toes but still only barely brushed the light casing. "Misjudged that one, shorty?"

"Oh don't you even start!"

Kidd could help but laugh, the image of killer stretched out just burned into his memory, and he fell across the hall so the wall could hold him up.

Killer growled at him - and Kidd just kept smirking. He could tell Killer hasn't playing anymore, but Kidd still had a plan, and he needed Killer to -

Killer stepped off the stool and grabbed his bandolier to jerk him forward, "Don-"

Killer might be faster, but Kidd was stronger. He hauled Killer up over his left shoulder, both hands clasped around his left thigh. He ignored the way Killer's heel tried to dig into his hip, and after some kicking, Killer got his right leg hooked around Kidd's neck, hanging awkwardly down Kidd's back, thighs pressing against both ears and trying to strangle him with his calves.

Pomp came running at the first sounds of a fight, and Killer had told him to get back in the kitchen.

/We have a strange kind of foreplay,/ Kidd though to himself, pointing not slamming Killer's face first into the wall behind them, but getting close enough that Killer could leverage himself up until he was sitting on Kidd's shoulders; If Kidd was anyone else, that knife Killer only just didn't pull would have been in his neck. Instead Killer had a fist full of his hair, twisting his head around to force Kidd to look upward at him, knowing full well that even without seeing his face, Kidd knew how pissed he was.

Kidd just smiled out sweetly, patted apologetically the hand shaped bruises he probably left on Killer's left thigh and -pulled- the base of a new bulb over to himself, holding it up to Killer, face of pure innocence.

Killer looked at it in confusion, before glancing up quickly to find the light fixture now in reach. "You're a prick."

"A massive one," Kidd agreed with a wink; He could tell Killer rolled his eyes at that before he readjusted his weight so his was sitting snugger on Kidd's shoulders, no longer tying to strangle his captain between his legs, instead tucking his toes around Kidd's sides and behind his back for balance. Kidd kept his right hand on Killer's hip to steady him, head still twisted to the awkward angle their tussle had left him in, but it let him watch Killer unscrew the cover to open it, pillowed on Killer's thigh.

Killer removed the dead bulb, plucked the new one like picking a flower from someones' garden, and planted the dead one in it's place. Kidd knew he was getting a cocky smirk under strips of white and blue but patently bid his time while Killer's attention went back to the task at hand. In the mean time, he -tossed- the dead one into the box of trash

He rested his hand back on Killer's hip, the rough denim on his jeans and the soft silk of the sash. He wouldn't likely ever wear a leather belt, but had no problem pilferering Kidd's things and repurposing them for his own means. It was not lost on Kidd that his colours was the thing keeping other wandering hands off his partner, and his alone allowed to remove them.

"Any more chores left?" Kidd asked, his chin brushing the inseam of Killer's jeans. He felt the muscles of Killer's inner thigh flex and he smirked as his ran his hands down either side of the material's outseam until he was supporting Killer with a firm grip on the thickest parts of his thighs.

Killer squeezed his legs in warning, a light pressure around Kidd's head as a reminder that could actually probably kill him if Killer was so inclined.

"I'm just saying," Kidd pushed his luck, "that unless you have anything else on that needs seeing to, we've got some time until you'll be needed back in the galley, yea?"

There was a light pull on his hair, a shift of weight, and Killer had curled down to look at him, still balanced carefully on his shoulders but close enough Kidd could have kissed him if not for the helmet.

Kidd kissed him anyway.


Tags
6 months ago

23. Morning

archiveofourown.org
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
23. Morning

Kidd - 6 | Killer - 10?

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Kidd gets named

Killer gets a birthday

more scottish holidays I'm trying to twist to fit into one piece

holidays would be the most reliable way for a bunch of homeless kids to keep track of time

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Besides counting the fourteen days between dock pays, Killer also carefully counted quarter days. He had no paper contracts - he wouldn't be able to read them anyway - but its when pay ledgers would be checked, and extra hands would be let go. Leases would be up and one either paid for the next few months or made sure to be out the door before the landlords caught on you'd been squatting there in the first place.

It was also a chance to get hired again and get steady work. And Killer put his best face forward every Martinmas; winter was the most important time to get work. Work meant pay, sure. But good work also meant being warm in the day, sometimes a meal at lunch, and if really lucky, a safe hidy-hole to sleep after dark.

Killer, who was good with numbers and likes sussing out the patterns they made, loved this time of year. Martinmas started on 11/11 and lasted 2 months and 22 days ending on 2/2 on Candlemas, and Killer had always felt that must mean it a lucky time of year. Last year had been hard - the docks were still recovering from the fire and the only people with extra coin for the season hadn't wanted two little boys on staff.

32 days after First-Foot and 23 days after he'd given the last of their coins to the kid, Killer had taken the tiny stub of their last candle and boldly joined the woman who marched to Februa. He's watch them march every year to get their candle's blessed, and Killer needed all the blessings he could get, even if it just meant a candle he'd hope would last a little longer.

The women around him would point and whisper at him as he walked with them, but when his bravado started to fail him, he was saved by the kid who'd gotten bored begging at his assigned corner and left to find him. He was munching on an already partially eaten sandwich, before offering it to Killer. Killer - who was indeed hungry - took a bite before giving it back.

The whispers started up again, and Killer wished he hadn't taken the bite, it knotting up in his gut.

"Whose children are these?" One woman asked finally, addressing the others.

He just wanted his candle blessed. Now he was pretty sure he'd messed up somewhere. Thankfully, the kid didn't seem to notice the unease and stayed focused on his meal.

At least until the woman grabbed his arm, and he dropped the coveted food when she practically lifted the little boy off the ground - "Whose kid is this!"

Killer could have bitten her, and certainly would if she carried on like that, "Hey! Hey, he's mine, let him go!"

She frowned at him, expression unhappy still, "Excuse me?"

"He's mine!"

"Where's your mother?" one woman asked; Killer had no answer to that. "What do you mean he's yours?" asked another, and Killer wasn't sure how to answer that either.

"Is this your bother?" the woman ask the kid instead. He looked just as unsure how to answer as Killer.

"He's my kid! Give him back!" Killer declared, both boys starting to get upset.

One of the women took pity on them it seemed, and she stepped up to whisper something to get first woman to let go of the kid. Killer grabbed his hand and meant to run away, but the woman who's asked about their mothers knelt down to block their way.

"Hi, Kidd, I'm so sorry about your sandwich. But I saw you come over to share it with.. uh…"

"This is Killer." he said it without hesitation, clinging to Killer. He was more upset by Killer being upset at the moment, the whole ordeal making little sense to him.

"I saw you share it with Killer while he waited in line with us. That was very thoughtful of you."

He grinned, and Killer relaxed just a fraction.

She pulled out beri note, and put it into Kidd's free left hand, "Hey, Kidd, why don't you go and get you and Killer a new one?"

Both the boys face dropped in surprise at the paper bill. Kidd practically shoved it in Killer's face, with an awed 'look!'

Beri was off island money; it was worth a lot to the right people. Worth more then the numbers printed on it.

"It's too much…" he didn't mean to say it, but the words slipped out before Killer could stop them. Kidd looked at him curiously.

The woman's smile is still kind but incredibly sad. "Is it just the two of you then? Or are there others?"

"Just us," Kidd pipped up, the beri note having been folded up and put in the little drawstring bag his birthday coins has been in.

"Wh.." she pursed her lips, tilting her head and tried again, "Do you understand what the march to Februa is for?"

"Killer's getting our candle blessed."

Killer showed her their candle stub.

"It's just the two of you?" she asks again, and Kidd nods before Killer can tell him to stop, starting to feel nervous.

But she looks thoughtful, "Is this the first year it's just been the two of you then?"

"The kid's been mine since the coup."

"Okay," she smiles, and when she stands, she ushers Killer in front of her with a gentle hand on his shoulder.

A few of the women had hung back waiting for her as the rest had marched on. "This is Kidd," she says, touching Kidd's red hair first, "and this is Killer," she said, her hand going from his shoulder to his hair too. "This is the first year Killer has had Kidd, and he's going to get get their last candle blessed."

He was still doing it wrong, Killer realized, but the laughs were kind, their smiles no longer mocking but sweet. The woman's hand was warm and soothing where it lingered on his head. They looked at him like people looked at Kidd when he did something cute. The beri woman kept a hand on them the whole way, and no one asked again why they were there. When it was Killer's turn, words where exchanged in advanced, and a confused man said a prayer on his candle.

It would several year later before Kidd would sit up suddenly one night, hours after they should have both been sleeping. Killer bolted upright the moment he did - a light sleeper to the point to of detriment - but also something that had saved their asses many a times. "What it is?!" he whispered harshly when he couldn't figure out what woke Kidd up.

Kidd looked at him accusingly in the low light, "When is your fucking birthday?"

"Wha… what?"

"How do I not know this? How have we never celebrated your birthday?!"

Exhausted, Killer plopped back down, arm slung over his face. "Go the fuck back to sleep."

"No, seriously," Kidd shoved his shoulder, and when that didn't work, pulled Killer's arm down, "When the fuck is your birthday?"

"Who knows," Killer answered, pulling his arm free and rolling away from Kidd to try and go back to sleep.

Unfortunately for him, it was never going to happen as long as Kidd was staring at him; some part of his brain refusing to let him ignore the fact someone was looking at him.

"Candlemas." he said finally, the first day to come to mind, "last term day of winter."

Kidd was whispering under his breath, trying to remember if he knew anything relevant about the day.

"Second of February." Killer supplied, tired of listening to the gears grinding uselessly in Kidd's head.

"Oh…"

"Will you go back to sleep now?"


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