Latest Posts by mekachu04 - Page 3

kid: Monkey!! Happy New Year - you should /totally/ invite me in!

Zoro: So, the shoes?

Killer: It's really important to him that he was shorter for this

Killer: ...

Killer: Don't let him on your ship.

FirstFoot:

The first person to enter the home of a household on New Year's Day is seen as a bringer of good fortune for the coming year. Ideally, for the best of luck: a tall, dark-haired male is preferred (Blond/fair hair is unlucky and redheads are considered the worse option) They are also expected to bring gifts.

Because Kidd is a shit-starter, as a red head he /would/ make a point to try and be the first to cross the threshold of his enemies/rivals to try and foul their luck. He, of course, brings no gifts.

(Wire is the designated first-footer for the Kidd Pirates)

PS: the tartan Kidd is wearing is the Jolly Roger Tartan XD

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.

fem! kill 🙏🏼

Summery of the idea: 18+ rating

Exploring the aftermath of the Kidd Pirate's captivity in Wano, Kamazou's loss to Zoro, freeing the crew, leading up to the Onigashimas Raid, with a specific focus on the struggles a female!Kamazou under the control of a man like Orochi might have been. Ideally it would finish with the recovery after Kidd (& Law) takes down Big Mom and Killer's fight with Hawkins.

Tentatively at 5 chapters - 8.5K Words - Kidd/Killer as the main pairing, but some soft moments between crew & Killer.

It would also be dealing very strongly with rape aftermath, and things like the fear of sti's, pregnancy, menstrual cycles, ect. and how fucking terrifying that would be on top of all the other shit going down, along side the SMILE fruit.

Some clips below the read more

Crew quarters are just as bare. If it wasn't nailed down, it's gone. The Punk hasn't been so desolate since the day Kidd bought her. Killer is chuckling weakly at his side, clutching those awful robes to herself, and Kidd knows she's barely keeping it together.

He can't be in this room. He can't stand the hollow echo that should be filled with talking or snoring. He closes his right hand around Killer's bicep, guiding them both out.

The galley is worse - Kaido's people stole his fucking fridge. Killer's meticulously collected cast iron pots and pans are gone; her pasta roller, years worth of collecting across the South Blue and Grand Line of spices and herbs, not even the custom shelving he'd made for her, nothing has been left behind.

Killer starts to laugh across the room; the high pitched breathless wheezing that's been clawing its way out of her until she can't stand it anymore and starts to claw her own face. Kidd's at her side where she's kneeling in time to pull her hands away before blood is drawn and she slumps against him, cackling. She nods to her discovery, exhausted against him: one cabinet missed, under the false drawer of the sink, still fully stocked with sanitation supplies. Not just cleaning, but prep supplies. Hairnets. Food safety gloves. Face masks. An emergency first aid kit. The fucking fire extinguisher.

The first aid kit is meant for kitchen burns and minor cuts. Something quick and best case to hold over until the can get over to the sick bay - which is also stripped bare. It has some pressure bandages and gauze, but nothing for flesh cut to the bone in desperate need of stitches, nothing for assault and torture. Nothing for fake devil fruits.

<><><> "stop stop stop," he growled, trying to take the garments away from her, only for her to growl right back.

"You are not leaving me behind, jackass," she hissed.

He looked at her like she's slapped him; the though never having crossed his mind, "What? No! I mean, you not wearing that crap -"

"I'm not going naked!"

"No, wear mine," he said, shoving his own clothes at her, his vest and slacks at least.

He wasn't often able to stun Killer in to silence. Her face was blank and she was just blinking rapidly, trying to find the tracks Kidd's mental train of thoughts had taken.

"The fuck are you going to wear?" she settled on finally.

"My kilt."

She erupted into laughter at that, more manic than usual because of the fruit, but honest laughter, the kind saved for his particularly stupidest moments.

"I'm serious," Kidd got her to drop the robes, and held his slacks open for her to step into.

"You're going to stick out- "

"I was always going to stick out."

"Well, now we're both going to stick out."

"That has never stopped us before."

<><><>

He swore into her skin and she chuckled, twisting up on herself. He pressed his lips to her skin once more. She'd always been his better half, and to have to have dealt with this on top of everything else. Alone. He couldn't fathom it, such a violation of her self. "I'll kill him."

"I know you will."

SIZE 28 CANVAS | 1.5 INCHES-ISH

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

Kidd & Killer

PostTime Skip Kidd & Killer

Same credits and size as above

HEAT & WIRE

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

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

<3<3<3<3<<3<3<3

They are so very precious!! Gah!!! <3

First comission done! Tysm @mekachu04 for requesting those tho lovebugs!!

Forget me not

Size 32 canvas, dyed by me. 16 colours. Finished Size: 5.5 inch diameter.

I'll need to find a nice hoop frame for it. Not sure what i want to do inside if anything

pattern by PopcornPatterns on etsy

it was so hard to choose a favourite T_T

It was like.. a four way tie XD

I have a few wips still sitting in the back pockets that might go up before the end of the year, but i'm not sure it will be cleaned up in time

These are all from like.. July to now too. Something happened in May, and just.. Killer & Kidd moved into my head and i don't think I've had so many ideas since i first wrote for one piece back in my collage / Live Journal days. everytime i blink, new idea!

<3 its been a blast XD

original template by @spicedrobot

it wont last - but it is very strange seeing myself on the leader board XD

damn... i have been cooking this week XD

I hope it's okay I got really excited about you liking OP (especially the goat, our Captain) AND hockey so I had to follow back.

I'm so excited to go through your Kid pirates prompts. 😊

I'm always happy to make new friends, especially of the Kidd and Hockey kind =^.^=

I hope you enjoy what you find

https://www.jr-onepiece-shinkansen.jp/

ONE PIECE（ワンピース）新幹線 | JR西日本

ONE PIECE（ワンピース）新幹線 | JR西日本

JR西日本「ONE PIECE（ワンピース）新幹線」2025年春、新大阪～博多間運行開始！〜ONE PIECEの仲間と一緒に、冒険の旅に出かけよう！いざ、偉大なる線路（グランドレイル）へ！〜

have y'all seen the new japanese train thing?!?!?!??

My beautiful Punk sails on!!

Anyone interested in a 2024 winter card? Dm me the address its getting sent to

Happy Holidays

Winter is upon us (if you live in the northern hemisphere) and the shortening days demand we spend as many daylight hours as we have in celebration.

I’m going to be sending out snail mail cards for the winter season; if you would like one, please send me a message or ask telling me the address is going to. If you want a specific holiday, let me know too. This is open to anyone who wants one, no need to follow me back or send one in return if you don’t want to

Last page in the sketch book from kikitober. It was a very good sketch book. It will be missed.

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]

November and beyond

firstly - thank you all for sticking with me through KiKi'tober. this was the first time I'd ever finished a monthly daily challenge for October and i could not have done it without y'alls support.

that said- oh my. i am.. i am stunned that i pulled it off and also my brain is melting a little. i haven't drawn seriously since like 2009 and to finish two sketch books between july and today is mind boggling. and i still very much plan to keep writing and doodling for y'all - things are gonna likely slow down a bit ^^;

World Anvil is hosting it's first Novel'Ember this year, in light of.. other sites, and I'm going to try and use this to actually get some of R.Rebellions finished and up and then maybe get some of the other WIP's concluded.

I also have some crosstitch projects that have been on hiatus all summer and one of them is so close to being done that i really need to see to that XD

There is more Kidd & Killer content coming, just don't expect it every day anymore!

Once NovelEmber gets going, i think i'm going to go ahead and post a link to the WIPs so if you have an account and want to be nosy, you can go poking around at whats in the works for the future

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

30. Tears

Kidd - 17 | Victoria 22

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Victoria's death

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He knows her.

Well.. he knew her.

Kidd stares at the body, still partially buried in garbage.

Hip and Hop are quiet behind him, solemn and still.

Its bad enough someone murdered this woman. Then they brought her out to his turf and threw her away.

Like trash.

Before Kidd took over, bodies got dumps in the Heaps all the time. He'd put a stop to that years ago.

But then someone decided that they could waltz in and do as they liked. Very few had the egos for it. Only one group on the island still  willing to openly disrespect him like this.

It wasn't just that it was a body. It wasn't just some poor soul that was discarded to prove a point.

But that was Victoria.

It had been four years. Last time he'd seen her she'd been so upset she'd left crying, and never looked back.

He'd never shed a tear for her leaving.

He's shedding them now.

Compo had gently taken his elbow, as if to lead him away. He jerks himself free, stumbling closer to the body.

They brutalized her, her face bloody, body broken. Her neck is broken, deep dark marks, a solid thick line left by a belt. Burned her and cut her and broke her. Stripped her bare and threw her away.

He's struggling out of his coat, tries to cover her, give her some dignity back.

"Boss," Boogie is murmuring at his side - no ... above him... as Kidd sinks to his knees. He doesn't know what to do; He can't do anything. She's already dead.

Kidd looks over the scrapyard, the Heaps, His Realm. His Domain. And none of that mattered, because Victoria is dead and nothing he's accomplished stopped it from happening. Nothing he's done will keep the next person from being thrown away by Kutsukku's undercity.

He looks to the city, taunting him, just as tall and imposing as it's been his whole life. Mocking him with things he's never allowed to have. Things it's gladly ripped away from even it own people - not because they've done something wrong - but that they've gotten in the way of the boss' games.

Kidd's going to burn it to the ground.

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

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."

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.

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.

26. Cold

Kidd - 17 | Killer - 21 |Heat -22

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Head Injuries again

please seek emergency care for head injures like this!

The helmet is born

brief but repeated vomit

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

"What's wrong with him?"

House gestured over to where they'd set up an impromptu infirmary; where Heat had apparently marched Killer off to once the heaviest of the fighting had died down. "Dunno. I think he tried to block a pipe with his face."

Kidd groaned; He didn't like to see Killer hurt - but he didn't like to hear Killer had gotten hurt in such a stupid way even more. He stalked over to the little shelter, throwing the door open to find just the two men thankfully.

Killer was seated on the ground, Heat squatting next to him, red stained cloth pressed against his forehead and their first aid supplies lain out next to them. The cloth mask Killer usually wore over his face had been pushed up as an impromptu headband by Heat to hold his bangs back as he picked through the supplies one handed. Heat waved for Kidd to keep his voice down, the Captain only just biting back a jab at Killer's bad luck.

"hmhmmka" He mumbled to Kidd.

He was definitely not okay; any jest's dying on Kidd's lips as Killer tried to stand up to prove he was fine only for all the colour to drain from his face. He was blinking rapidly, and then Kidd and Heat were lowering him back to the ground before he fainted.

"Get the bucket," Heat warned urgently, dropping the bloody rag to pull Killer's hair back suddenly. Kidd handed it off just in time for Killer to hurl into it. It was not the first time, Kidd frowned, as the bucket already had sick in it. "I'm.. gonna go dump this." His nose wrinkled up at it once he took it back from Killer before he spilled it on himself.

"I wouldn't. I don't think he's done yet."

Kidd's frowned deepened; Heat began to stitching up the still bleeding cut along Killer's hair line. Kidd reached out to touch the end of Killer's nose, blood dripping onto his hand.

"This one is bad."

"/This/ one?" Heat looked nervous, "How many concussions has he had?"

Kidd made a /ehh/ noise, checking Killer's pupils, "I'm gonna have to start sending you out with a safety helmet, buddy."

Killer just looked confused. "Imnt 'uty"

"Oh Killer, you so are fucked up right now." Kidd said sympathetically.

"A'mo wel'day." He told Kidd as Heat finished trying off the thread, before giving a pathetic whine and shudder as Heat pulled away. Baffled by the noise, Heat looked over at Kidd who shrugged back.

Tentatively, Heat put his hand back on Killer's forehead and swore, before using both hands to cup his cheeks. Killer closed his eyes and shivered, leaning into his touch.

"He does feel a little chill," Heat warned, and Kidd pulled his jacket off to wrap Killer up in it.

In a show of gratitude, Killer puked on him.

<><><>

He can't help but have a laugh at Killer's expense when he hands the gag-gift over as they wait for permission to dock on the little backwater island; The Victoria Punk is almost bigger then the entire pier and someone on island wants to make sure she's actually going to fit. It's a reasonable enough request with no undertone of malicious intent, so Kidd is content to wait for once.

"You've had a real head for trouble lately," he cackles, as Killer opens the box to study the crudely made safety helmet.

It's just a basic hard hat that Kidd had shaped out of scrap steel, though he'd lowered the back a little more than was standard and didn't bother shaping the brim onto it.

"Shouldn't there be like... padding?" Killer asked, baffling Kidd in that he seemed to be taking it... seriously.

"Wait.. What?"

"I don't think it's going to be useful without some padding to absorb the blow. It's also going to fall right off."

"Are... Are you fucking with me?" Kidd asked; Killer was inspecting the item like he was actually considering wearing it.

He also looked confused by Kidd's comment. "What do you mean?"

"Because I'm fucking with you. This is a joke..." Kidd said slowly, waiting for Killer to drop the act, "Because after your last concussion? I made that joke about sending you out in a helmet?"

Killer looked down at the helmet in confusion, and then looked back up, still lost.

"Which I'm starting to realize... with your concussion, you don't remember any of that..."

".. I'm sorry?"

"Air son muir, don't be fucking sorry!" Kidd went to take the helmet back, feeling a fool, only to catch a look of uncertainty on Killer's face and pulled his hand back slowly. "I... Di.. Do you want me to make you a helmet? Like... an actual helmet?"

Killer floundered for a moment, "...Maybe?"

Kidd held his hand out, and Killer handed the piece to him this time. "So... Padding..." he prompted, turning the metal over.

"Maybe a face plate too?"

A knot tangled up in Kidd's gut. "Like, are you thinking down the center covering the nose or up over the cheeks?"

He almost didn't hear Killer's response, it was so quiet. It shouldn't have surprised him, not after a friendship as long as theirs.

"Anything you want."

If Killer wanted it full coverage, then that's what Kidd would make for him.

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.

Kidd - 4 | Killer - 8

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Dialogue only

Original Characters

Companion to Love Language

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He'll be five - we should throw him a party.

He'll be five - he wouldn't remember a party.

He will. Cook can bring her boys, and your niece can come.

I do not understand this need of yours to have hundreds of children underfoot.

....

Fine, fine. It's a Tuesday, it'll be slow anyway. We'll close the tavern and throw a party for a five year old.

Oh! I love you so.

You better.

....

What about that little blonde fucker?

Who?

The stabby kid, the dock boys' shadow.

Oh, Killer!

... I shouldn't have expected anything else.

I didn't think you liked him.

I guess I should be happy he bit me instead of stabbing me like he did Anndra.

You scared him!

I though the stevedore was getting handsy with him! I didn't know the bastard was just blackout drunk.

....

What?

I didn't know that was what you were upset about. It's just... very sweet of you.

I just don't want that shit going down in my home. They wanna turn tricks, they can go to the red light like everyone else. Stabby fuck knows that and that's why I let him stay.

My brave knight off to rescue damsels and urchins alike.

Stop.

... Do you think Killer would want to hang out with a bunch of preschoolers?

I think that boy would follow anyone who gave him a soft look into a back alley.

Eustass!

Sorry. I'm.. I'm sorry.

Ph! Don't make me think about such things - I'm never going to let him leave next time if you say things like that.

We can't afford that.

We could...

We already pay cook twice her worth to feed her boys.

Don't word it like that!

What?

Twice her worth - Twice her WORTH - gah. Its gross. Don't say it like that.

We do though. You figure in the free meals and board, she makes more than I do at the end of the day.

Maybe we could hire Killer to work with her.

We can't afford that.

.. I know....

....

...What do you have there?

My mom made it for me when I was little - I found it with her things last summer when...

.. Oh sweetheart...

Its supposed to be Moccus; He was mom's favouite old God. The fierce defender.

Wish we knew she had it a few years ago - it would have been a nice christening gift.

You knew what she was like....

Still.

... Maybe.

Hmm?

... It's bad luck to visit someone without a gift.

... I'm not following.

Stabby boy. Killer. He wont come without a gift. Especially a party. And I can't exactly demand a street kid buy my son a toy.

What if he takes it and runs?

Do you think he would?

...No.

If he did... if he did, I would be sad but... I don't think I'd be mad. He could probably use a fierce defender patron.

24. Evening

picture will *not* be included on tumblr.

It IS on the A03 linked above. While not sexual nor graphic it is probably NSFW so be aware if you go to A03 to read.

Kidd - 10 | Killer - 14! | Victoria - 15

Tags specifically for this chapter:

boys bathing

Kidd gets Victoria to help him give Killer a good birthday

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

…. 2400 words and i still didn't get to the original idea i had for this part!

this was supposed to go a different direction completely - Victoria gifts Killer with new clothes - like actually new, never worn clothes, that fit him correctly! - and takes them to dinner at her favorite Curry joint. But then Kidd just… stole all of it.

Kidd's just like.. nope. I know I'm homeless and 10, but I have to get my best friend - who is 14 now and also homeless - the perfect birthday present for his first birthday ever. I own nothing, we have no where to put anything, and i can't waste too much of our food money on things. what do i do? I arrange a shower for my partner

<><><>

He wasn't expecting Kidd to have remembered - he barely remembered; he'd been so tired and would have said likely anything just to get  to go back to sleep.

Honestly, he picked the day at random, the first set of numbers that popped into his head.

Well... that wasn't quite true. It wasn't a random day. It was the last day of the winter quarter, which lasted 83 days. 43 days after the winter solace. 32 days after the new year. 28 days until the spring equinox. 23 days after Kidd's birthday. The first day he'd vocally claimed Kidd as his.

Getting Kidd up in the mornings was usually an ordeal and a half - especially on chilly mornings like today - so he should of been suspicious when there was absolutely no fighting him, and Kidd crawled out of their nest of blankets to get dressed with no fuss.

Instead, Killer carefully counted out their coins - they had enough to actually buy something warm this morning if they shared it - and still have enough for a smaller dinner if they couldn't scrap up much during the day. Winter was hard for lifting coins of passerbyers - few things got kept in outside pockets, everyone too bundled up trying to stay warm. But Killer had planned for that, and could usually keep them at least something once a day for about a week out.

It was a little bit of a walk from where they lived right now, but there was a vender who sold morning burritos that would over stuff Kidd's and charged them far less then they should, and it was worth the biting chill that the sun never quite chased away on days like this.

Kidd was bottomless these days, and if Killer didn't keep on top of that, he'd be up all night listening to the boy's stomach bitching. Kidd was at least old enough now that he didn't often complain vocally about being hungry, and Killer was grateful for that; should Kidd say but a word, Killer would go get him food, day or night, and had done so often when they'd been smaller. It had been stressful and exhausting, and neither one of them had liked the person it was turning Killer into. But Killer would do it again if he needed, no regrets.

He'd would do, and had done, many a things for Kidd with no regrets. He would never regret Kidd. Kidd, who still held his hand when they ventured into the city. Who brought him cool looking bugs. Who made him a little metal butterfly when they'd had to move before the cocoon outside the house they'd been caught squatting in had opened. Who would give up an afternoon of prime panhandling to sit outside a backstreet club - with an owner who would let them loiter outside no matter how bad it was for business - all because Killer had stopped once when they'd passed by, transfixed by the heavy beat music played inside.

Who apparently had made plans with Victoria - as she was waiting for them at their usual morning spot.

"I had an outstanding favour that needed to be cashed in, so I thought I'd hang with you two losers instead." The thing is, with Victoria, loser never sounded like a jab, or worse - pity. She didn't say it like she thought she was better than them. It was just a matter of fact with a little fondness thrown in. She wouldn't help in the thieving part, but she was always game to be a distraction, or just keeping watch for both their backs.

They worked though the closest thing a lunch rush had when it was cold, and Killer fingered the coins in his pocket, counting them without looking. It was not great, but it could be worse. He tried not to let it show, but Kidd & Victoria shared a look so he knew he'd not hid it well enough.

"So -" she said, clapping cold hands together, "I have a surprise, if the two of you are up for some B&E?"

A 'Do Not Enter' sign was an open invitation as far as Kidd was concerned - and Killer could not fault him for that. Do Not Enter usually meant something worth stealing - just as much as it meant something worth defending, so be on guard - and it must be good if Victoria had picked a place.

A place that ended up being the factories Victoria lived and worked out, much to Killer's puzzlement. Sure - every time him or Kidd snuck in, that was technically Breaking & Entering, but she'd never dressed it up like that. And he was beginning to think she'd done so solely for his benefit, as Kidd was grinning like he already knew.

"What's... going on?"

Victoria lead them around to one of the rarely used back entrances - one that had been carefully propped open, "So - and I mean this the kindest way possible - the both of you reek to high hell. I think at this point, Kidd would probably smell better if he rolled around in a dead skunk carcass."

Kidd just shrugged, it was what it was after all, even if Killer felt himself dying of mortification inside. If she as bring it up, it must be bad.

"So - I have made some arrangements to get you two assholes a spa day."

"Wait - what?" The secretive little smile was gone from Kidd's face, "Both of us?"

"Oh absolutely. I'm not going though all this for you to just sit and twiddle your thumbs. You getten' a bath, sunshine."

"Hey! Only Killer gets to call me that!"

She blinked, "Call you what?"

"Nothing." He said, far too quickly. Killer just subtly shook his head 'no' at her when she recalled her last statement, and she let it go.

<><><>

Banaltram had been the head nurse here for a few decades now, and was well aware of the rules and in nearly all ways was a strict enforcer of them. But, she was also a soft heart and she also liked to think she was a good judge of character. And for better or worse, she trusted Shiruton and her boys to behave themselves if she turned a blind eye to their friendship from time to time.

She could explain to them how to stitch someone up and how to wrap injuries, but they could never stay, they had to leave before curfew, no matter the wound. She also could provide no more meds - she'd done so only once and nearly lost her position when she'd not been able to provide an adequate explanation for them being missing next audit.

Still, she didn't regret all the worrying and stress that had come of it, seeing Shiruton with real friends. She was never really sure if the older one remembered her, but she knew Kidd did by the shy smile he'd give her as a greeting, before his face would scrunch up into what was likely it's natural state - that boyish disdain for the world in general.

Her infirmary was empty today, and she'd planned to be across the hall catching up on paperwork for the afternoon. A pot of tea was brewing, matching set of cup and saucers at the ready should one of her lovely young ladies decide she was not interested in watching two boys shower, and would like to visit with her instead.

Shiruton and Kidd exchanged some more conspiratorial whispers at the hall door, and Banaltram handed the young man the box that had been locked away in her office for safe keeping in the mean time. Kidd then used the box to playfully push Killer toward the privacy room off to the side where they where going to do their best to run this place out of hot water for the day.

"Tea?" she offered Shiruton.

<><><>

Kidd would not show Killer what was in the box - at least not all at once. There was a paper bag on the top that Killer would get to see now, although Kidd held back as Killer grinned stupidly at him as the hot water started streaming up the little room.

"You gonna shower in your clothes, or?"  Kidd trailed off. While they'd seen each other in various states of undress over the years, it was still a bit strange to be completely naked. Most 'baths' they got were dunks in the bay, fully clothed, usually an accident on Kidd's part and rescuing him on Killer's part. The thing was, it wasn't usually safe enough to be fully naked, not for very long anyway. Kidd would not blame his friend at all if Killer stayed dressed to some extent.

Killer didn't see to give it much thought at first, just a casual shrug. He'd stepped under the spray, and Kidd watched Killer's face go from nonchalant to soft awe. Then he was scrambling to get his wet clothes off, bare under the shower, turned up into the warm water like a zealot in prayer.

Being able to count the number of hot showers he'd had in his life on one hand, Kidd turned to give Killer a moment. He rummaged through the bag, growing fragile in the humid air, and pulled out a bar of soap and rag, before stripping his own clothes off. Unlike Killer though, he left them folded up next to the box to stay somewhat dry.

He didn't often get to play the mommy or daddy in his friendship with Killer; Killer didn't need to play pretend to be both roles for Kidd and he was lousy at make-believe anyway. So there was an amused sort of novelty as Kidd lathered up the rag the way Victoria had taught him and threw it in Killer's silly upturned smile. "Wash your face, dumbass."

Killer sputtered, face blanching as he spit out some errant soap bubbles, and Kidd chortled at the bewildered look on his face as he processed what just happened. Killer wiped his face down, looked at the rag and then back at Kidd, who felt a chill run down his spin, before Killer threw it back at him, square in the face. Kidd squawked when the soap got in his eyes, but didn't hesitate to grab the rag and chuck it blindly back to where he could hear Killer trying not to giggle.

Kidd has no idea how much water they wasted that day, wresting with each other and the rag, a strange game of trying to forcibly wash the other one, with it devolving to the point of them both sitting back to back under the falling water laughing stupidly at the terrible job they'd both done.

Killer had a funny laugh - one the Kidd knew troubled him - and it led him to a weird stoic bravado that he was absolute rubbish at maintaining. But here in the privacy of the shower, just the two of them, Killer cackled with abandon - a stupid noise of pure delight that had Kidd grinning ear to ear propped up against him.

At some point, their combined laughter trickled off in the humid room, the need to breath outweighing the carefree mirth that had settled over them. Eventually Kidd got up, hand lingering on Killer's back, "Stay here a sec."

In the paper bag - ruined at this point - was a few more items. Kidd took one bottle out, and dropped the bag in Killer's lap as he turned the water off for a moment. Killer made to look in it, but Kidd 'ehh!'ed at him, "Just hold it for a sec. And uh... close your eyes"

It was a testament to their friendship that Killer did so before asking, "Why?"

Kidd turned the bottle over, dumping a good size gelatinous glob on the crown of Killer's head. "Because this shit stings way worse that the soap." He warned, before starting to scrub the shampoo into Killer's scalp. Kidd had only done this once himself, again under Victoria's guidance, but as awful as those days had been, it had felt nice. He remembered that much.

And Killer had been tempting fate recently, his hair the longest Kidd could ever remember it being, enough to actually be pulled back. Usually it had gotten caught on something or ripped out in a scuffle by this length, or matted to the point they had to cut around the knots. But Killer has been trying to comb out the knots at night with his hands instead of letting Kidd hack them out. "I'm turning the water back on for a sec, don't open your eyes yet."

Kidd kept Killer's head under the spray until the water stopped coming away dirty, before turning it off again. Even wet, Kidd was in awe of the colour change. "You're like... really blond."

Killer had opened his eyes by that point, head titled up to look at Kidd in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"Nope - head back down," Kidd ordered, reaching into the bag Killer was still holding for the second bottle. "But this time you don't have to close your eyes anymore."

When Victoria had helped him hunt down the contents of the paper bag, she'd told him he'd probably end up using most of the conditioner the first time; to let it soak and then try to comb the knots out while it was still in. So that what Kidd did, working it in until Killer's hair kinda felt a little slimey, but in a soft way. "Gimme the comb from the bag."

There was some shuffling, and Killer handed the comb to him. Just how Victoria told him, Kidd started at the bottom by Killer's shoulder blades and slowly worked his way up. Killer didn't make a single sound of protest when the comb would snag on a tangle but the condition worked like a miracle and soon Kidd was able to run the comb from roots to ends.

Killer's hair was still soft even after he rinsed out the conditioner, like spun gold under Kidd's fingers. He had no idea; he legit had never seen Killer's hair clean, he realized.

Later, after they were both squeaky clean and as they toweled down, Kidd climbed up on the counter to wipe the condensation off the mirror, staring back at the red haired boy in the reflection. Killer avoided looking at himself, but he did pluck at Kidd's own vibrant red hair.

"Oh!" Kidd said, "You still have a gift from Victoria."

"Wait, what?"

Kidd retrieved the box, plopping it down in front of Killer. He waited eagerly for Killer to look over before opening the flaps in a flourish. "Happy Birthday!"

"Its not... oh..."

"February Second - you said so. See, I remember things when it's important!" Kidd pulled out the soft plaid button up and brand new jeans Victoria had picked out for Killer, along with a package of clean underwear and socks that Banaltram had suggested when Kidd & Victoria had first approached the nurse about smuggling Killer in for a shower. There was also a pair of new shoes at the bottom, that Kidd had not known about.

Killer looked flabbergasted, frozen in awe. "Kidd.. I dont...."

"Did we do good? Were you surprised?"

Killer smiled, "Yeah. Yeah I was surprised."

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?"

22. Aftermath

Kidd - 5 | Killer - 9

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Children in danger

Killer gets named

Killer's been an orphan for a long time

Kidd becomes an orphan

Baby Killer's first steps in Observation Haki

Child-Laborer!Killer

Killer running errands for the mob/bagman

lots of background death for this one, including some named oc's

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He's too small for the good paying jobs, but he's a fast learner, and dexterous. And while mending nets and quality checking ropes doesn't make him a lot by way of coin, he's reliable and known and most of the dock masters will find something for him to do. He's become a familiar face both on the docks and in the taverns and sometimes they even left him sleep where he falls and pay him all the same.

He also stated to be trusted for other tasks - a note from a sailor to the City Boss, an envelope from the Boss back to the docks, sitting watch at a door until just the right man came around. He'd make more in those nights than he'd make in weeks of rope mending.

He'd make a name for himself that way too - when the wrong man came sniffing around. He hadn't meant to kill anyone, but the man not only refused to go away, he'd gotten physical with the little boy, not expecting much of a fight from a 6 year old. But a 6 year old with a nail studded board got the drop on him none the less, and the man woke up tangled in rope and sinking in the bay.

He wouldn't wake back up again, even if his body was pulled up, picked over for clues, dead eyes staring back at the little blond child that had gotten the better of him.

"No body messes with our little killer," the dock master had said, ruffling the boy's hair as the dead man's identity and loyalties were sniffed out.

So Killer got his name, fell in deeper with the black markets of the docks, and sometimes even got to sail on some of the ships on their shorter day voyages.

And when the inevitable happened - and once some small time Street Boss rose up to overthrow the City Boss, and throw down his sympathizers - 9 year old Killer was meant to be rounded up with them. But three years of running errands for a mob boss had taught Killer the signs to watch for - and all the best hidey-holes in the city.

He just really failed to understand the scope of such a take over. He heard the fighting outside, listened in horror as fighting turned to guns turned to explosions. In the end he'd climbed down in the water itself as the buildings and the ships started to burn, clinging to the dock pilings. It was foul, and so polluted he was afraid the sea might catch fire too. The heat would get so intense at a few times he had to dive completely under, holding his breath until he could no more, only to risk surfacing for air and diving back under again.

The fires burned for hours. The smoke would linger for days more; thick and cloying. It burned his eyes and throat and each breath hurt.

The docks were unrecognizable when he could tread no longer and lay gasping and exhausted on the stone work at the shore. The ships were gone. The wharf and piers charred down to the sea. The taverns and markets and shops no more than rubble as far as he could see. Corpses littered the streets, burned and mutilated, left to rot.

He wandered the streets - everything changed so much he didn't know where he was anymore, even if his feet did - eventually taking him back to the long time safety of Eustass' Tavern & Inn.

It too had been caught up in the fires, the Inn part completely gone, and only a scattering of the Tavern's shell still there.

"Mòr Mhàthair?" He was sure he sensed something in the smoking remains. He glanced down the street - still empty and still. "Mr. Eustass? Are you still here?"

He climbed over the smoldering wood beams that might have been part of the roof; there was definitely someone here, he could tell, but he wasn't sure who or exactly where. Worried the tavern matriarch might be trapped somewhere, Killer made his way back to where he believed the kitchens had once stood.

Sure enough, she'd been trapped. Unfortunately, Killer was far too late to do anything about it. He didn't know how to feel as he stood over her - one of so many burned mangled bodies he'd found since he thought it finally safe enough to climb out of the bay's water.

She might have been on of the few he would cry about if he had any strength left for it.

But there was still someone here...

Killer respectfully crawled past her, moving some of the rubble that had fallen against the bricks of the fireplace. Hiding in the soot bricks, covering in grime himself, was sunshine boy. He didn't look too bright now, just terrified, the only clean part of him was where his tears had been streaming down his face.

"Hey Sunshine." Killer said soothingly, pulling more rubble away so he could get closer, "You okay? Are you hurt?"

He shook his head no, but didn't move. Killer tired to move more of the debris but lacked the upper body strength, "Kid.. kiddo, you gotta come to me, okay? Can you move?"

The boy nodded, crawling forward until Killer could awkwardly pick him up. Killer started picking his way back out of the former building, whispering, "close you eyes" as they passed auntie, "keep them closed" he murmurer, when he spied Eustass' body on his way out. "It's okay... I've gotcha..."

21. Battle

Kidd - 15 (not really in this one) | Killer - 19

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer's side of the Break-up

How Killer got to be Boss

I kill some OC's again

Kidd is talked about a little but is not present for this one

Killer isn't really a main player either until the end

another blink-and-you-miss-it future!crew cameo

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Boss Athair may not have time to form an opinion of the Heaps recruit that called himself Killer, but his right hand man certainly does. A man of few words, Ceannard is old enough to be retiring form this whole business, but his loyalty to his Boss means he won't do so without someone trust worthy to take his place.

He's got many a men who make good soldiers, very few that will make good leaders. And even fewer capable of advising a leader.

Solider Brathadair is none of these things, but he'd been at Athair's side longer than anyone, and Athair treats him like a son. Solider Killer is all of these things, but is nothing more then 'Boy' to the Boss. It's maddening to Ceannard  - seniority overshadowing all else. Athair claims to trust Ceannard in all things, but here is the impasse they have stalemated on.

Athair wants Ceannard to train up Brathadair to replace him. Ceannard has been working with Solider Boy for almost three years now and last fall even got him to swear fidelity to Athair and become a made-man. Ceannard knows who the better choice would be; Athair thinks Boy's ties to the new Heaps Boss is a liability, Ceannard sees it as proof that Killer has a good head on his shoulders, and could be a very good tool to have with negotiating, he just needs some refining.

The Heap's Boss is wild and impulsive, and the crew he's gathering have no restraint or etiquette. But he could be a strong ally, and Athair needs one after things fell apart with the young upstarts that have taken charge of the west and south parts of the city. Athair is the old man on the block, and the only one still pretending to respect him in the Big Boss in the City, and Ceannard knows it's only a matter of time before that becomes it's own fiasco.

<><><>

He just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon, a hail of bullets ripping though the hall. Not many are afforded the luxury of fire arms  - and Ceannard would very much like to know what finally caused their last ally to turn on them, and how they got this far with no alarm being raised.

"Soliders!" he's ordering them into position; his men armed with sword and daggers, against unknown numbers with guns and fire - if he had to guess based on the smoke starting to come in though the door. He and Brathadir will fall back to cover the Boss; The rest will likely die here, but hopefully give them time to move.

His next order never leaves his lungs, Ceannard gasping as the air is driven from his body by the blade driven through his back. Athair looks back at him stunned, horrified at the blood now falling to Ceannard's feet. Behind them the soldiers have engaged with the intruders, back to them, unable to see him falter. Athair falls forward on his own accord to catch his man before Ceannard hit the floor, the Boy was kneeling next to Athair and Ceannard, post forgotten as he tried to help Athair stem the bleeding.

It was a hollow endeavour. Ceannard knew it. Athair knew it. Solider Boy likely did too, but it didn't stop him from trying to keep his mentor from bleeding out.

"Brathadair!" Boss Athair summoned, looking for his senior soldier for backup in the unfolding chaos.

"Boss..." Solider Boy whispered, drawing his attention back. Athair watched his oldest friend slip away in his arms, numb. But that's not what the young man was drawing his attention to.

No, he was looking at the blade still sticking form Ceannard's back, a familiar hilt in the hazy light. Athair knows this blade to well - a gift from his own hand to Brathadair. His face is unguarded for a precious moment, disbelieving the man he called son would take the life of his dearest friend. He grabs a fistful of the mask Boy wears over his face - he'd mocked him for that Athair recalls, but it's working well for him in the thickening smoke - and pulls him close enough to glare into those ice blue eyes - "Solider - You find the man coward enough to stab my partner in the back, and you end him. You massacre everyone of those men if you have to, but the man who did this dies today."

"Yes Sir."

<><><>

When the dust does clear, there are clear losers. Ceannard is dead. Most of his men are dead. Brathadair is dead, along with the turncoats who allied with him.

Somewhere in the chaos, Athair took a bullet to the face. Killer's not sure why, the man never really liked him after all, but he still moves the corpse over to Ceannard.

Only one other Solider made it as far as Killer can tell, and even though he's a head taller than Killer, he still some how manages to look up at Killer for directions. He's as pale as Kidd, with a lost look to him, his dark blue frazzled hair sticking out erratically to complete the distressed nervous energy coming off him.

He stands there, looking over Killer, and then their fallen Boss, and their commander. "Now what do we do, Boss?"

20. Metal Trinkets

Kidd - 7 | Killer - 11

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Children in danger

Sometimes, Kidd is still a child

Killer doesn't understand playing pretend

He's so confused but he's trying

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Kidd had a cute chubby face that meant people didn't feel guilty giving him things, and he had been slow to grow and was still very small looking for seven. He was also quick tongue and lacked any of Killer's hesitancy when it came to demanding attention. Everything about him was loud, and he just could stand in crowded streets and adults would stop to see what he needed help with.

He'd pretend to be lost, or spin them some other fantastic story, and Killer would lift items from their bags or coin purses from pockets. And then later they'd awe at their spoils and feast like Kings. Sometimes the items could get pawned for coin; sometimes they kept them, if they were small enough. A neat watch that Kidd would break almost immediately because he tried to take it apart, a box of luxury chocolates that they gorged themselves on - too sweet and rich for them in the end - and once they even pilfered a doll that ended up being far more trouble then it was worth.

Children's toys were a complete unknown to Killer; Children's games in general were a mystery to Killer, and Kidd long declared him the absolute worst at playing pirates when he'd spend most of their game correcting Kidd on the names of the parts of their non-existent boat. "No, that would be the backstay."

"It doesn't matter!"

"… but it does?" Poor Killer just could not wrap his head around Kidd's point of view, and if Kidd had anyone else to play with he'd probably have left to do so.

But, Killer was also his best friend, and Kidd thought it important that someone teach Killer how to play. So when the doll had appeared in one of the packages they'd lifted, Kidd had wanted to keep it. The problem was, playing with just the one doll between the two of them was difficult, and trying to teach Killer how to play dolls with just the one was proving to be impossible. He'd intently watch Kidd demonstrate, but when it was his turn, Killer would freeze up, and just cradled the dainty little doll like he was afraid to break it.

Stealing a second doll had so far not worked out for them - Kidd was starting to suspect Killer wasn't trying to find them another one - so Kidd took it upon himself to make one. He'd already been making little abstract things with the scrap during slow spells or when he couldn't sleep but he didn't want to wake Killer up. Killer didn't sleep though the night very often as it was, so when he did pass out during the day, Kidd was more than happy to keep watch and let him rest. Granted, making a doll was a little harder since it needed to look like something when he was done, but Kidd was pretty proud of how it was coming along.

He'd been out looking for new pieces when he'd spotted a dozen City Men in the Heaps. They'd come by from time to time to dump their trash, but normally the only ones coming this deep were ditching a body or looking for someone. Heap-folks learned to avoid them; pretend you don't see them, they pretend they don't see you.

These men didn't seem to want to follow the script, because one pointed directly at Kidd, "That red yokel, that's one of them!"

"Killer! Run!" he'd yelled back to their hovel, taking off in the opposite direction, hoping they'd follow him instead. Kidd knew the Heaps like the back of his hand, he could run this place blindfolded if he needed too. And as long as Killer wasn't nearby, Kidd was happy to -wreck- shit up without worrying his friend getting caught in his still sporadic control over his magnetism. He could -attract- things towards him without hurting himself anymore, but -repealing- was still like firing a scattershot and he hadn't figure out at all how to aim it.

Unfortunately, only about half the men took the bait, and all Kidd could do was pray Killer had enough warning. Frustratingly, the man who'd pointed at him had not been one to follow.

Kidd was small and fast, and he new all the best paths to run along, and which were filled with tripping hazards. And alone, he was free to -pull- and -push- piles to his whims to trip up or even bury his tag-alongs.

Once he was sure he'd lost his tail, he made his way back to the last place he'd seen Killer and started looking for the older boy - only to hear cursing and swearing beckoning him toward their shelter.

"WHERE IS IT!"

Kidd stuck his head over one of the lips of trash. The leader of the group was screaming at Killer who was ignoring him completely to fight with the man who was trying to keep him in a head lock. The three of them were covering in blood splatter and the man looked like he had a child size shoe print across his face. The other four men that had stayed behind with him hadn't fared so well, bodies twitching and discarded in the rubble.

Kidd froze when he recognized the knife the man was threatening with was Killer's own blade, and its very sharp point was being waved far too close to Killer's own face.

"Where is the Duck House?!"

"I dun what that means!" Killer had gasped out when the man's free had grabs a fist full of his hair, and the other man finally got his forearm successfully under Killer's chin and against his neck.

"The Duck House!" The man screams again, and the knife is going for Killer's face, and Kidd -pulls- in a panic, the blade sinking in to the trash pile as he ducked back down to hide behind once more. The two men turned and looked in the opposite direction, reasonably believing someone shot something to disarm them. There are no devil fruit users on Kutsukku after all. Those are just Grand Line myths the Marines use to trick people.

Killer however, uses the distraction to mule kick the man holding him in the groin, and is running the moment his feet hit the ground. Kidd wants to send the knife back to him, but he's terrified to hit Killer with it by mistake.

The grunt is still huddled in on himself, and his leader screams and picks up some scrap to throw after Killer. Kidd -pushes- that off course but remains otherwise crouched and hidden. He knows that Killer knows he's nearby, and no doubt will double back, so he stays down, listening, waiting. Watching.

He watched the two men tear into their home, the makeshift walls light enough for children to put into place no match for adults as they are ripped away. He bitterly watched as their meager things get tossed aside, just more trash in these men's way.

They tear apart blankets, rip open the 'pillow' Kidd and Killer share, throw clothes aside regardless of the mud. The parts to the watch Kidd was still trying to figure out get scattered, lost forever in the scrapyard.

Killer slid down next to him, panting softly, eyes a little manic from adrenaline but hands soft and steady has he checks Kidd over for injures he doesn't have. Kidd keeps watching the City Men as they destroy everything.

Finally, they make a triumphant noise, and the leader is holding out the doll relevantly, her porcelain skin dirty from her time with Kidd but intact. The man is grumbling about the state of her dress, and Kidd and Killer shoot each other dumbfounded looks.

But this doll is apparently worth the lives of most of his crew, and they go to leave, their treasure reacquired. The leader can't help but twist his heel into one of their shirts as he walks by, grinning at the sound of ripping cloth.

All this for a doll. Killer looks pissed, and Kidd can't blame him. Two on two - they could still mess this man's day up. But Kidd is also frowning at the blood dripping from Killer's nose still and touching it seems to drain all the blood-lust out of Killer's body. He just looks forlorn.

The men are getting way, but…

Kidd climbs to the top of the heap, and holds his hands out in concentration. Everything crackles around him, but he's not -calling- for anything nearby. No… he wants something much farther away. It's hard to pick the -song- of any specific piece of metal, they all -sing- pretty close to the same frequency.

Kidd finds the right song and he -calls- for it, across the yard, a large shuttering network of pipes welded together as part of a crane at some distant point in its life. It vibrates as Kidd isolates its sound, "Attract…" he muttered, concentration on just it.

The beam starts towards them. But more importantly, it starts rolling toward the men picking their way out of the Heaps, standing just below it. Killer jerks his arms down, and Kidd looses is focus on it, but it's already moving. Rolling down the hill as more clutter follows it down.

The men don't stand a chance.

Killer is draped around him, loosely pinning Kidd's arms to his sides, both boys watching and the Heaps buries those who dared cross into Her Realm uninvited.

They'll pick over their home and see if anything is salvageable, and then they'll find somewhere else and start over. Kidd never does find all the watch pieces, the tiny parts eaten by the endless yards of trash accumulated under their feet. The doll - a Duck House Doll, apparently, whatever that was supposed to mean - was destroyed along side the City Men with the trash slide, leaving Kidd with just his mostly finished doll that was meant to go with her.

He had left the unfinished project behind with the rest of their unsalvageable belongings.

A lifetime later, after Killer left him to go be a yesman for one of the City Bosses, and it was clear he wasn't coming back, Kidd had raided every cache Killer had left behind in a rage. He was angry and he just wanted to break things, and he had no more of a goal than to destroy anything the tied Killer to Kidd's turf.

Most of the caches were clothes, mostly warmer winter gear, knives, a full coin purse and usually a handful of little trinkets Kidd had made over the years. The last one Kidd would raid angry was more of the same, with one glaring exception. Inside the metal box to protect Killer's things from the elements was a well balanced dagger, it's hilt unlike the style mostly found on Kutsukku, and a flintlock pistol, polished and clean but without ammo. Both looked unused - new. The two weapons framed the last item, a long forgotten metal robot doll smiled back at him, clunky arms wrapped purposely around the drawstring coin bag with it's crudely stitched skull and crossbones.