<3 <3 <3
For @mekachu04
♫ ♩ 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
ONE PIECE PEEPS.
In your opinion, is the pirate Dive, a member of the Kid Pirates captained by Eustass Kid, just a small statured woman or an actual child?
I don't so much care what you think canon says she is but what *you* personally think.
Kidd is 9 - almost 10 & Killer is 13 - almost 14
Tags specifically for this chapter:
Children in danger
dealing with past abandonment issues
beginnings of self-worth issues for the both of them
Kidd's kinda a little shit in this
Killer's not much better especially at the start
homeless/extreme poverty
Sleeping Together
as in actually sleeping
Huddled for warmth
Read at A03 linked above or here below cut
Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list
"It's itchy"
"It's warm. Shut up"
"It's ugly."
"So are you. Now shut up."
"It smells funny."
Killer snarled at him, "Then fucking freeze for all I care!" He jerked away, crawling out of the cubby they'd nested down in for the night before stalking off, leaving Kidd shivering in the ugly monstrosity that he was pretty sure had been thrown out for good reason. He knew beggars couldn't be choosers, but this thing couldn't possibly be a real coat someone had made on purpose. He was pretty sure it was some animal's actual skin and the body had just rotted out and left it's fur behind.
Kidd sulked in the dark hole, nose wrinkled at the weird wet smell of the coat. It was far smaller than their last place, but Killer had insisted they move once the weather changed. And then he'd packed it with all the cloth and paper trash he could find until the two of them barely fit anymore.
A month ago it had been unbearable. Last week it had been a claustrophobic nightmare. Half an hour ago, it had been a warm safe - if not smell, itchy - place to sleep. Kidd pulled the coat to his chin, watching the open space warily. Eventually, everyone left and never came back again. He wondered if this would be the time Killer didn't come back.
Little frozen flakes of snow were starting to cling to the cold metal scrap at the mouth of their shelter. Still no Killer.
Well good riddance. At least this time Kidd would know why. He'd leave his ungrateful ass behind too if he could.
Still.. Still, there was a hurt that Kidd didn't like at all, a painful knot in his chest that just got worse when he sniffed back the hot angry tears that threatened. He threaded his arms through the coat sleeves and hugged himself just so he didn't feel so alone, staring at the dark shadows of insulation.
"Killer?" he wasn't begging. He didn't Beg, not anymore. But..
"What?" came a dull reply and Kidd scrambled out from the shelter, looking frantically around to see Killer sitting in the snow above the crawl-way, knees pulled up to his chin, hunched in on himself.
He looked as miserable as Kidd felt.
Kidd looked away, scrubbing at his own face, before sniffing disdainfully. "What are you doing, sitting out here like that. You stupid or something?"
Killer just shrugged, talking to his knees, "The way you were bitching, didn't seem like you wanted me around right now." His hair had curled a bit when it was still warm enough to melt the snow, and now the flakes clung to the wild edges like a white halo, making it look twice as thick as normal.
It was going to be a whole ordeal to try and get it dried now. Kidd scowled. "So you are stupid."
Killer chuckled, his stupid little fwa fwa laugh that had Kidd rolling his eyes.
"Would you get back inside before you turn into Am Fear Liath Mòr or some shit?"
"I dunno. Being that tall might be cool."
"Tch. Good luck with that," Kidd snickered, pulling the coat higher and staring at Killer until the teen got the hint and got up. It took some negotiating, but they crawled back inside, Kidd frowning at the wet cold chill that had ensnared Killer and followed them into the dark.
Killer's face was pale, a hint of blue at his lips and fingers, and Kidd did not like at all how Killer refused to nestle back under the coat with him, like he was suddenly afraid to touch him. Which was really stupid because they'd never had that problem before.
"You can stop being dumb now," Kidd told him matter-of-fact, kicking at him a little to get Killer to stop trying to cuddle him from outside the coat. "Seriously, you're practically the Greyman already, get under the coat."
It was hard to see Killer's expression like this, but Kidd could picture it in his mind, that pout he did where his nose scrunched up and his lips went flat and he looked completely unamused with whatever shit Kidd was caught up in at the time. Only this time, it was trying to get Killer warmed back up and Kidd was starting to worry just a little bit.
"I'm... You'll get cold."
"And I'll warm you back up - world balances itself out. Now come on, we don't have all night! I'm tired."
Killer relented and Kidd very carefully did not hiss or flinch when Killer's cold skin brushed his own, and then Kidd pretended he wasn't imitating an octopus and wrapping himself around his friend for any particular reason. He only relaxed when Killer finally warmed up enough to start shivering again.
One day... one day he'd be Boss, Kidd decided, he'd be Boss and he'd have all the nicest clothes and him and Killer would have those pretty fur coats that didn't smell funny. They'd have clothes that wouldn't itch and and would belong to just them. Killer wouldn't have to dig clothes out of the trash anymore or beg Victoria for old things that she'd outgrown. And he wouldn't have to worry about making them last or trying to patch them up for Kidd to wear next. No more wrappings around shoes because the soles starting coming off, or Killer trying to fold old newspapers up in a way to replace them entirely when Kidd accidentally lost one in the Heaps running away from the dogs.
Kidd looked away from the piling snow outside, burying his face in the crook of Killer's neck, coat pulled up high around them both to fight the chill.
One day.
I agonize for hours/days on end on what to say and before I know it, its been three weeks and now i feel it would be more awkward to say anything at all.
I saw your comment/email/text and was literally moved beyond words.
i have now run out of a third colour for the cross stitch....
think the holiday shopping is over enough to attempt to go to the store once today has rolled around to a more reasonable hour?
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.
Work in progress sketches
Top from some point in R.Rebellions, and the end of Last Emperor Blackbeard. Bottom two future chapters from Adrift and "Kid" Pirates
Chapters: 3/7
AKA: 8 days to Rally [Redux]
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...
Chapter 3 under cut on on A03
Her time spent as Kamazo had been well spent, Kidd came to find out. When Killer was allowed freedom from her handlers to go assassinate whoever Orochi was cross with at any given the time, she took as long as she could possibly get away with, scouting and mapping out every part of Wano she could. The two of them slipped away from the Punk in the quiet morning, Killer moving through the scattering of towns and countryside like the shadow of death itself, Kidd following her lead just like the old days. They moved through Wano without so much as a second glance from the locals, even as Killer took them dangerously close to the center of one of the town centers.
She lifted food from a stall so smoothly, Kidd himself almost missed it, even as she passed the pilfered meal back to him. By the time they slipped back into the shadows, she'd snagged him a second round and was awkwardly shoving rice into her own mouth as they walked.
It wasn't just the food, Killer knew where everyone of their crew was - had even known where even he was - in her time as Orochi's puppet, and had spent what sanity she'd had left pulling strings and trading favours to get their crew moved around and taken care of.
The indiscriminate killing had never been the hard part; Killer would do it all over again for her crew without batting an eye. On the surface, it wasn't even the favours she'd done that bothered her, although they'd shaken her more than she'd admit. No, it was that her ability to compartmentalize and cope had been completely screwed once she'd eaten that fruit, and with how lost she'd been when Kidd had first found her, he knew the lucidly she had now was held in place by the barest of tethers.
But she was holding it a death grip, only the softest of chuckles escaping when she waved her free hand to the first of many work camps they would visit, just as desolate and gloomy as Udon had been. Kidd waited for her to compose herself before pulling his own hand from her, feeling out the fencing and weapons and piping that made up the compound, mapping the camp out in his head.
Killer had taken Kidd to Wire first; their tallest commander spotting them before the guards did, and immediately turning on his captors. It seemed what Orochi had forgotten was the Kidd Pirates were only placid because they believed he held their Captain's life in his hands. The sight of Kidd walking free meant all bets were off, shackles were thrown down, and Kidd walked out of there with not just some of his crew but a good number of forced-laborer locals there to help.
He was... not sure how to take that turn.
Wire got them weapons, and freeing Heat was next.
While Wire had been quick, efficient and clean in his killings, Heat took one look at his crew come to free him, and turned on Kaido's men with all the fury he'd been forcing down since they'd been subdued on their own turf. He'd been the last of the four standing against Kaido, and Apoo, the one to watch Hawkins take a knee as he himself was beaten down.
Wire had fallen first, taken out by Kaido before they'd understood they were under attack. Killer had been next, that bastard Apoo having moved like he'd watch her back, to uphold an alliance they'd just sworn to, only to step aside to let her take Kaido's club full force to the head. Heat had been frozen in place, uncomprehending as her helmet cracked and splintered in a single blow. Kidd had fallen next, blindsided by rage, even his fury no match for an emperor. Hawkins had knelt then, surrendered. Heat felt all eyes to him, both his enemies and crew alike, and had answered the only way he'd known how; he'd spit a fireball at the monster, and then knew no more.
Since waking up, he'd been with a few surviving crew mates, forced to work. He didn't know if Wire or Killer had survived, only being told Kidd lived. And would only continue to live only so long as they didn't cause Kaido's people any trouble. So against every fiber of his being, Heat had kept his mouth shut and head down. He'd tolerated their abuse, horded supplies and weapons, and waited. and waited. and waited.
And then a wild man stood at the gates, dressed only in boots and kilt and the red of fresh spilt blood. Heat did not freeze up this time. He was not even sorry to have left so few for his captain to get to fight.
Seeing Wire dressed in the same drab prison garb as himself was disheartening, but the blood splatter on them both livened it up pretty well. Heat then broke one of the biggest rules the crew had, and pulled Killer into a hug without warning. He'd not seen her face when her mask had broken, but the fact she was still bare broke his heart, and the only way to keep from staring was to put her out of his line of sight.
She gave an uncomfortable giggle, a sound so strange to him he didn't place it as her making the noise at first, as he cupped the back of her head in his hand. Solid bone, whole and unbroken, unlike his nightmares. Frighteningly more, was she allowed the embrace at all, only Kidd ever granted the privilege of being tactile because of the long history between the two. Her own hands warm against his back as she tucked in under his chin, returning the gesture.
In his panic, Heat looked to Kidd, demanding answers to what their vice-captain had been forced to endure. Kidd's face was carefully blank; Wire's pinching as he drew his own conclusions.
Kaido's men here had died too fast; Heat would be sure to make it last longer at the next camp, grinding his jaw as he rested his head against Killer's for a brief moment longer before pulling away. He kept his gaze lowered, frowning as he took in her getup.
"Boss Killer, you really do not have to indulge Captain's atrocious taste in patterns, you know." Although, she at least wore the shirt better than he did, even if it was poorly fitted for different reasons.
"You know a place I can get a good pair of jeans?" she asked dryly.
"All leather here I'm afraid. But," he nudged the wooden sandals she was balancing on, "that does include shoes. Lets find you something better?"
As the prisoners raided the supplies, trading out ragged linen for furs and leathers, and even if it wasn't quite their style, Heat and Wire made it work for them. Killer also got boots, but - with Kidd's blessing and don't think Heat didn't catch that look he gave her - stayed with the clothes she had. Kidd also passed on clothes, and admittedly, he looked fearsome enough as is, so it worked for him too.
"I do have one last thing," Heat admitted, as they made ready to leave to march on to the next camp. Some of the locals would go with them, but most had gone their own way already. As long as it caused chaos and a headache for what passed as authority on this island, Kidd didn't care either way.
Heat's camp had been mostly responsible for metal work, and that was both the ore being mined on the island, and the melting down the scrap from other projects. Or other ships.
He and the few crew mates that had been assigned here and been slowly salvaging little bits that they knew had been taken from the Punk. Enough for Kidd to build a respectable new prosthetic. For Wire to have a trident that would work for his taller frame. Older punishers that had been retired; not because they were broken but because Kidd and Killer had perfected a new design. Still perfectly functional, and between Kidd, the weapons on hand, and the camp's tools, new blades had been procured and affixed easily. The strange new smile that never seemed to waver on Killer's face seemed genuine the first time as the machine spun to life in her hand.
"Don't say thank you yet," Moai grinned, before hoisting up a wooden crate that had clearly been buried in the ground until recently.
Most of the crew had never heard Killer laugh before, something she'd stopped doing a world ago, long before they'd given up trying to kill each other instead of turning their ire to bigger targets. So it took them by surprise to hear her burst into both tears and cachinnations. Kidd's look to them was a clear and present warning not to react, as he took the helmet from the open crate in Moai's arms, who worriedly looked at him to make sure he'd not done something wrong.
Kidd loosened the latches on the spare helmet, before holding it up for Killer. Heat could see in his eyes he was furious about the situation, but was doing an admirable job in acting like nothing was amiss. Killer lowered her head to let him put it on, the Captain pausing only to ask, "Bangs?"
"Don't care right now," she laughed back, little mirth in her voice despite all. And despite the laughter and tears, the moment the metal was carefully latched back into place, her whole body eased just a bit, relaxing enough for all to see just how tense she'd been up to that point.
All told, they hit eight different labor camps that night, before all that was left was the most delicate extraction: getting the last members of their ranks from the pleasure district.
The locals show them where to sail to keep the Victoria Punk out of Kaido and Orochi's prying eyes. They told Captain Kidd to give them a few days before they can get the ship refitted with more of the day to day necessitates.
What they can do now is give them a ships worth of fishing nets and someone even finds her main sail, enough to maneuver her to safety. Temporary main top-gallant and Mizzen-mast have also been secured. The promise of food and hopefully enough pieces for Kidd to rebuild the water filter to come with the night's sun set.
For the time being, the crew are camped out in the lower deck, reworking the nets into new hammocks. Attacking the labour camps would take some time for word to get back to Kaido and his men. A similar approach on the pleasure houses would not work, would get all eyes on them before they were ready for such a confrontation. The plan was for them to sneak into the Flower Capitol to get the last of their people, but they can't do it running on fumes like they are. They will rest the daylight hours away, and start out at dusk.
Those of them that have been sailing with Kidd since the start know their way around mending nets; Killer practically lived on the docks before her and Kidd starting running together, and twenty years hadn't lost the muscle memory of knots and weaving as she worked.
She was second only to Wire - a man who's fibrecraft skills had kept them clothed and stylish for the last decade. The two are working back to back at the moment, deft hands having already finished four hammocks apiece.
When suddenly Wire froze, looking around the room in a panic.
Kidd noticed immediately and started looking around to see what the man had spotted, only for Heat to let out an soft, "oh...."
Kidd looked between the two in confusion, before Heat motioned him over. Killer had drifted off at some point, hand in mid knot, slumping back against Wire. Now the taller man was the only thing keeping her upright, her breath soft and steady from under the helmet.
Some of the other crew had taken notice, chatting dying off and movement easing until the room was comfortably quiet. Jaggar took one of the finished hammocks and strung it up in Dive's usual place; top placement, in the middle of everything, yet out of everyone's way. Safest place in the room. Heat took one of the few blankets they had and lined the netting with in, knowing first hand the nightmare the coarse rope would do to one's hair.
Kidd lifted Killer up, the new prosthetic he'd assembled since they got back to the Punk taking her weight with ease. Disk J helped hold her hair out of the way when he settled her down, making sure it didn't pull or tangle, setting in the safety of the blanket Heat had put down, before going back to his own work.
"Is it safe for her to sleep in the helmet?" Compo worried, looking over but carefully keeping their line of sight under the hammock level. Kidd did not like that they had a point, looking down at his partner.
"Nobody's gonna go peeping." Gig assured him, "We wouldn't think of disrespecting Boss Killer like that."
Each turned back to their own work, giving Captain and First Mate their privacy, even in the middle of the room. Didn't judge either as Kidd fussed over the netting and the blankets before removing the metal shielding. Kidd tucked her helmet in her arms, frowning as his right hand brushed her forehead when he smoothed down her bangs. She was warmer than he'd like, and he pulled the edge of his shirt down to check her bandages. He needed to get her stitched up properly still, the skin red and splotchy where he could see. They didn't have clean supplies to rewrap her; if infection was setting in then they were in trouble.
Nov 22, 2017 Utah Grizzlies vs Manchester Monarchs -Manchester wins 1-2 in Shoot Out
I had the honor of test stitching this super cute design (with help from @mekachu04 ) from @cassieoh
You can get the pattern from her kofi:
Minors DNI : DreamWidth Backup : : Kidd Pirate Trash :: Cross Stitching & Book Binding : : We're here, We're queer. Get used to it.
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