Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive

Trying something new for end pages. #bookmaking #bookbinding https://www.instagram.com/p/CF5UinvFcAK/?igshid=1qswxx1y9cjap

I am home safely but it still might be a day or so until i can start uploading art again

brief hiatus

gonna be without my computer for a few days - everyone enjoy their weekend and I'll be back around February 3rd or 4th

At the end of June, it was revealed that, yes: Good Omens 2 will be a thing

And cue the outpouring of umbrellas! I immediately was hit by inspiration and already had a tartan pattern drawn up, that until now, really hadn't found a project to use it on

4 inch hoop, size 32 canvas. Fabric dyed by me.

9 days of stitching.

I have the tartan pattern available on stitchfiddle- link in the source

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.

<3 <3 <3

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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?"

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

9. Loyalty

Kidd - 15 | Killer -19 (only talked about - not actually present for this one)

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Kidd's named himself Boss of the Heaps

Teenagers in danger

Kidd gets himself shot

future crew cameos

Names

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Somehow in the last year - Kidd's gotten himself an entourage.

A half dozen were older kids that he and Killer had kicked the asses of at some point over the years. There was the not!sisters that went everywhere together, and Kidd welcomed them with a heavy heart, feeling his own former partner's betrayal even time he saw the duo. Wasn't their fault though, and Kidd was getting better about not holding that against people as of late. Throw in a handful who were just sycophants that he'd fallen in with, and then one or two city folks that ran out of luck and had headed to the Heaps to hide.

They'd been under the impression the Heaps where no man's land - they didn't know the it was Kidd's now. He'd nearly turned them away, sent them back to the city, but they'd prostrated before him and he'd never seen anyone do that before. Curiously had kept them around, nothing more.

And then Boogie had brought him another outsider, a large monster of a woman that had nothing but disdain for Kidd and clearly wanted to be anywhere but the Heaps. She had, like the others from the city, had run afoul of one of the bosses. Unlike the others, she knew immediately who he was.

"Solider Boy talks about you."

Kidd froze in place, his people turning to look at him curiosity. "Sorry," Kidd decides finally, "Don't know any solider boys."

She shrugs.

"What did you think the name drop was going to get you?"

"One more night still breathing."

"Hmm... Fine. Granted."

***

Being a teen and the boss did mean people thought he was an easy target. Unfortunately, sometimes it was people he'd given a second chance to. There weren't a lot of guns on Kutsukku - smuggling weapons past the Marines out in open waters carried too high of a risk, and few on Kutsukku had the funds for the payment demanded for them.

But just because there were not a lot of something did not mean none were on the island. Kidd just learned the hard way what a bullet felt like, hot and sharp in his side. It had completely blindsided him, not even an option in his mind, and he had stood there dumbly as his brain attempted a reboot.

A second shot never came - not because Kidd or any of his crew reacted, but instead the woman, the one from the gang Killer ran with now, stood over his crumpling assailant, rusting pipe in hand. She looked about as shocked as he did, stepping back uneasy as he was rushed by his own people.

The bullet responded to his -pull- gracefully at least, and he held the small ball of metal in his palm as someone else saw to the blood pouring out of his gut. It -sang- harmlessly in his hand now, the treacherous little thing, and Kidd -rolled- it over and over, committing its weight and song to memory so as to not ever fall victim to it or its kind again.

His man named only Sunglasses watched the little bullet -dance- in his hand uneasily, before Kidd closed his fist around it, face daring the other to make a comment.

None came.

***

"What was your name again?"

She shrugged, rubbing at the bracelets on her thick wrist. Kidd could understand that.

"Why'd you save me?"

"I told you, Solider Boy talks about you."

"You mean Killer, don't you?"

"Boss Athair doesn't think he's earn a name like that yet, took it away."

"Fuck him." Kidd growled. She smirked. "How.... how is he?"

She looked contemplative, "Quiet. He follows order, doesn't complain, and personally, I think he's damn proven himself. Ceannard, Boss Athair's second, has taken a shine to him, thinks he's got promise. Honestly, I think more of us like the two of them than Boss Athair these days."

Kidd picked at his bandages. "That's why you're here. Because you picked Killer over your boss."

"Solider Boy convinced me to leave before I ended up.. well," she gestured to the man whose skull she'd bashed in, "not unlike him."

Kidd looked at the corpse.

"He had a gun."

She nodded. "City Boss - one of the big ones. He's got god money, and delusions of grandeur. Buys up all kinda of shit, all kinds of people. Kinda man you don't tell no too."

Kidd scowled. "Well, fuck him too. That trick won't work a second time."

"Hope not." She said, so quiet Kidd almost missed it.

"Well..." he hedged, "at least while your own boss has a stick up his ass, as long as you don't mind the smell and the toxic waste, you're welcome to run with us."

Chapters: 8/8 Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Adam Young (Good Omens), Aziraphale & Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens), Crowley & Adam Young (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Hastur (Good Omens), Disposable Demon (Good Omens), Satan | Lucifer (Good Omens), Beelzebub (Good Omens), Adam Young (Good Omens), Wensleydale (Good Omens), Brian (Good Omens), Pepper (Good Omens) Additional Tags: No beta we fall like Crowley, is it still 'headcanon' if you're discussing religion?, feature author's own personal outlook on religion, specifically Hell and God's relationship to it, Minor Character Death, Paul Adeyefa's character is named Legion in here, discussion of past mutilations, Aziraphale was a cherubim, Aziraphale was a warrior, Discussion of the Fall, Imprisonment, Abduction, mentions of torture, BAMF Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale is "just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing" (Good Omens), Post-Apocalypse, Nope'geddeon, Post-Canon, Time Manipulation, Wing Injury, hurt!Aziraphale, Hurt!Crowley, discussions of Pre-Canon, Crowley didn't fall - he was pushed, Crowley Was Not Raphael Before Falling (Good Omens), Happy Ending, Aziraphale's True Form (Good Omens), lucifer is reasonable, aziraphale is not himself today, smite-y aziraphale, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), lucifer is not luci (tv) but heavily influenced by him, possible self-harm, unintentional suicidal actions, Burns, Crowley's True Form (Good Omens) Series: Part 3 of Nanowrimo 2019, Part 1 of Every Step Summary:

Aziraphale worked very hard at being soft. He's been working very hard for more than 6000 years to be soft, and one demon is trying his patience on the matter, leading him on a smiting spree in hell.

  aka - exploring my personal headcanon's of our fav duo's pasts, set sometime after the series ends. Tags will be expanded reflecting each new chapter to minimize spoilers. i'm not very nice to either of of our beloveds in this, but it all works out in the end.