Filing Drawer + Carry Case Of In Progress; Nearly All Just Waiting For The Spine Cover. The Beautiful

“why would you write fics for small, unpopular fandoms? you’re not gonna reach that many hits in fandoms not many people know about” ?? because I’m not writing fics for hits or kudos, I’m writing them for me because these characters are my blorbos and I have so many ideas, so much thoughts about them that my brain might explode if I don’t write them out.

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.

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

Nov 18 Utah Grizzlies vs Colorado Eagles

11. Meeting

Kidd - 17 | Killer - 21 | Heat - 22 | Wire - 23

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Violence / Death

Aftermath of Victoria's murder

Songfic

Kidd will be the Pirate King

Kidd gets his name - Captain

Kidd meets Victoria Punk

Read at A03 (on the 11th!) linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Kidd sat on the throne of blood, opulence and wealth around him, the other three bosses before him.

The whole island was at his fingertips - everything Kutsukku had to offer his for the taking. The thick plush carpets and heavy tapestries on the walls. Glistening hardwood and marble floors. Paintings framed in gold.

His whole life - he couldn't fathom such affluence. The trash cans of this new world he had conquered held more wealth than his name once did.

This is what killed Victoria. The hand that stuck her down might have belonged to the corpse he's left smeared across the floor downstairs - but this place is what killed her in the end. The drive to take every penny from the island, just to decorate rooms like this.

He could live the rest of his life in luxury here. Haunted by Victoria but never wanting another day in his life. Only...

"Do what you want." he said finally, pushing himself up out of the plush chair. "I'm taking my cut and I'm out of here."

Bosses Heat & Wire just nodded; this was a temporary alliance at best. They'd had their own reasons for joining, but Victoria had never been one of them. If there was a way to end this amicably, then all the better.

Killer however...

"Out of here?"

They used to be friends. Hell, Killer was the closest to a parent Kidd had. The last couple of years had pushed them apart but once...

Once they'd crawled around the Heaps together - playing pretend. Imagined the trash yard as any place but here. Of the ocean and the blue blue horizon and of adventure and escape.

Of Roger and his treasures.

Oh, better far to live and die

Of that stupid little ditty that he'd heard as a child. Little him clinging to the words of drunken fools filling his head with fantastic nonsense.

Under the brave black flag I fly,

"Yeah... Out of here..." He looked at the wealth around the room. "Certainly enough here for a ship of my own."

Than play a sanctimonious part,

"A ship?" Boss Wire asked; he and Heat both looking at him curiously.

With a pirate head and a pirate heart

It wasn't like being a pirate was a step down from a crime boss. He'd still be his own man, but without this awful island holding him down.

Away to the cheating world go you,

"Yeah... Buy a ship. Sail out of here. Never look back" he grinned, a little manic, looking a the other three as the idea took hold for the first time with any real roots. It's a child fantasy. But now...

Where pirates all are well to do,

"Come with me. Fuck this place. We'll take what we want; burn this place down and just go."

But I'll be true to the song I sing,

"That's a big ask, kid boss. What are we gonna do with a boat? Fish?"

And live and die -

"I'm gonna be the Pirate King."

Killer face was unreadable as ever, hidden behind bangs and a blood splattered cloth mask. But Kidd knew he was staring him down. Judging his resolve.

It was a child's declaration. Shouted back in the days when Victoria didn't hate them yet and Killer still curled around him in the dark to chase away both chills and the things that went bump in the night.

If Wire or Heat thought to mock him, the intensity of the look between Kidd and Killer held their tongues.

Finally Killer looked away, "You don't know shit about sailing."

"I'll learn. I'll find people who do, get 'em to teach me."

"You hate being told what to do. Who'd you actually bother to listen to long enough to learn?"

"You."

Killer looked up sharply at that, this time his hair fell in a way to pierce Kidd with a ice blue glare.

"Boss Killer - you sail?" Heat asked softly.

"That was a long time ago. I was a child." He never looked away from Kidd, voice chipped and cold.

"Yet you had such a stick in your ass about it when we played pretend." Kidd goaded, "Used to hit me when I called the imaginary ropes the wrong thing."

"I have a few men who've sailed," Wire offered as a way to ease the tension building in the room, "Self included. Small boats only, but I do know a little."

"So Killer & Wire sail with me." Kidd looked at the last man standing, "You wanna stay here and be King Boss, or come with us, Heat?"

Wire raised a delicate eyebrow at Kidd's assumption he was gong along with him just like that, but... "You coming with us Heat?" he teased his long-time rival.

Heat scowled, "And what, the kid Boss will be Pirate King? What does that make the rest of us?"

"Free." Killer murmured solemnly.

Wire, Heat & Kidd looked at him sharply.

Kidd nodded slowly.

Yeah.

Free.

***

She's not a home yet, but Kidd feels like it's the closest he's ever had to just a place. Home was the people - places can be taken from you too easily. He'd learned that very early in life. And recently, he learned people could be taken away too, at any time with even less warning. But he'd not going to let that happen again. This will be Home - and he could afford to have one built just for him. But She called...

"I want Her." was all he said.

"Okay Captain," was all Wire & Heat said. Killer nodded in approval.

In turn, Kidd had turned to look at the trio - stunned by the name. Heat just smirked back, Wire shrugged, and Killer walked right on past him to flag down one of the ship masters.

June 2020. Black Lives Matter. 

With everything going on in the world right now, i’m not sure ‘Happy Pride’ is the right feeling at the moment. Be safe out there my friends. I love you all. You are valid. You matter. 

Size 32 canvas, final size 3.5 x 2.5 inches

the pattern can be found for free on stitch fiddle or google drive

While the original design is not mine the pattern is. The pattern has been tweaked a little from the above, just so you know when making. Things that look okay digitally don’t always look right once they are made so i made some colour adjustments and changed some line placements

Day 21 : HairSwap

Original Prompt list by @gratefulcheeses

Future cross-stitch idea.....

Realised we don't have an all inclusive "be gay do crime" or "be trans throw hands" so I suggest "be queer strike fear"

Wip sneak peek

https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.stitchfiddle.com%2Fen%2Fc%2Fsi98t4-5xvnke%2Fquickview&t=OTBlOGUwYzE0MWE5ZjIyYjI4MTJiMDk2MzRhN2I0MmFmM2RjZmFhNSw5ODdhMzJiODZjYTMzZGYxZDIwZTI3NmI1N2YxNDFkYWQ0MGFjOGJk

Google Docs

Copy_of_AZ_LG_on_22_-_Stitch_Fiddle.pdf

Illustration by @wargoddess9

The swirlies on azi's jacket are meant to be French knots. I dunno how to illustrate that in a pattern, sorry

Cross stitch pattern available as a pdf through Google drive or using the stitchfiddle site if you want to set your own print settings or can't print it at all

Untested pattern.

Ive been writting almost nonstop for almost a month now. Today i went out and bought a sketch book and started to draw. This year ive been sewing again too. I picked cross-stitching back up. I started to finish those books that have been on my workstation since 2020.

I have no idea what happen but... i feel creative again? Like... i stopped writing in 2020. I stopped drawing... like a decade ago. Like its all shit and all. But... i dunno.

Its weird. That feeling of wanting to create again. I missed this. I hadn't realised.