29. Date

Kidd is 9 - almost 10 & Killer is 13 - almost 14

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Children in danger

dealing with past abandonment issues

beginnings of self-worth issues for the both of them

Kidd's kinda a little shit in this

Killer's not much better especially at the start

homeless/extreme poverty

Sleeping Together

as in actually sleeping

Huddled for warmth

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

"It's itchy"

"It's warm. Shut up"

"It's ugly."

"So are you. Now shut up."

"It smells funny."

Killer snarled at him, "Then fucking freeze for all I care!" He jerked away, crawling out of the cubby they'd nested down in for the night before stalking off, leaving Kidd shivering in the ugly monstrosity that he was pretty sure had been thrown out for good reason. He knew beggars couldn't be choosers, but this thing couldn't possibly be a real coat someone had made on purpose. He was pretty sure it was some animal's actual skin and the body had just rotted out and left it's fur behind.

Kidd sulked in the dark hole, nose wrinkled at the weird wet smell of the coat. It was far smaller than their last place, but Killer had insisted they move once the weather changed. And then he'd packed it with all the cloth and paper trash he could find until the two of them barely fit anymore.

A month ago it had been unbearable. Last week it had been a claustrophobic nightmare. Half an hour ago, it had been a warm safe - if not smell, itchy - place to sleep. Kidd pulled the coat to his chin, watching the open space warily.  Eventually, everyone left and never came back again. He wondered if this would be the time Killer didn't come back.

Little frozen flakes of snow were starting to cling to the cold metal scrap at the mouth of their shelter. Still no Killer.

Well good riddance. At least this time Kidd would know why. He'd leave his ungrateful ass behind too if he could.

Still.. Still, there was a hurt that Kidd didn't like at all, a painful knot in his chest that just got worse when he sniffed back the hot angry tears that threatened. He threaded his arms through the coat sleeves and hugged himself just so he didn't feel so alone, staring at the dark shadows of insulation.

"Killer?" he wasn't begging. He didn't Beg, not anymore. But..

"What?" came a dull reply and Kidd scrambled out from the shelter, looking frantically around to see Killer sitting in the snow above the crawl-way, knees pulled up to his chin, hunched in on himself.

He looked as miserable as Kidd felt.

Kidd looked away, scrubbing at his own face, before sniffing disdainfully. "What are you doing, sitting out here like that. You stupid or something?"

Killer just shrugged, talking to his knees, "The way you were bitching, didn't seem like you wanted me around right now." His hair had curled a bit when it was still warm enough to melt the snow, and now the flakes clung to the wild edges like a white halo, making it look twice as thick as normal.

It was going to be a whole ordeal to try and get it dried now. Kidd scowled. "So you are stupid."

Killer chuckled, his stupid little fwa fwa laugh that had Kidd rolling his eyes.

"Would you get back inside before you turn into Am Fear Liath Mòr or some shit?"

"I dunno. Being that tall might be cool."

"Tch. Good luck with that," Kidd snickered, pulling the coat higher and staring at Killer until the teen got the hint and got up. It took some negotiating, but they crawled back inside, Kidd frowning at the wet cold chill that had ensnared Killer and followed them into the dark.

Killer's face was pale, a hint of blue at his lips and fingers, and Kidd did not like at all how Killer refused to nestle back under the coat with him, like he was suddenly afraid to touch him. Which was really stupid because they'd never had that problem before.

"You can stop being dumb now," Kidd told him matter-of-fact, kicking at him a little to get Killer to stop trying to cuddle him from outside the coat. "Seriously, you're practically the Greyman already, get under the coat."

It was hard to see Killer's expression like this, but Kidd could picture it in his mind, that pout he did where his nose scrunched up and his lips went flat and he looked completely unamused with whatever shit Kidd was caught up in at the time. Only this time, it was trying to get Killer warmed back up and Kidd was starting to worry just a little bit.

"I'm... You'll get cold."

"And I'll warm you back up - world balances itself out. Now come on, we don't have all night! I'm tired."

Killer relented and Kidd very carefully did not hiss or flinch when Killer's cold skin brushed his own, and then Kidd pretended he wasn't imitating an octopus and wrapping himself around his friend for any particular reason. He only relaxed when Killer finally warmed up enough to start shivering again.

One day... one day he'd be Boss, Kidd decided, he'd be Boss and he'd have all the nicest clothes and him and Killer would have those pretty fur coats that didn't smell funny. They'd have clothes that wouldn't itch and and would belong to just them. Killer wouldn't have to dig clothes out of the trash anymore or beg Victoria for old things that she'd outgrown. And he wouldn't have to worry about making them last or trying to patch them up for Kidd to wear next. No more wrappings around shoes because the soles starting coming off, or Killer trying to fold old newspapers up in a way to replace them entirely when Kidd accidentally lost one in the Heaps running away from the dogs.

Kidd looked away from the piling snow outside, burying his face in the crook of Killer's neck, coat pulled up high around them both to fight the chill.

One day.

reblogged here since i no longer use that account

A self portrait. I haven’t drawn in so long; today it was like a dam bursting! Hikaru inked and coloured it for me - ‘cause she’s AMAZING!!!

dyed the fabric myself - and as i was stitching i realize that i did not go big enough... so had to shift the canvas over and free hand the lettering. Still - absolute blast and may use the base to stitch out some other ships later on

original pattern on etsy:

When Life Gives You Lemons Cross Stitch Pattern for 9-inch Hoop - Etsy

Chapters: 2/3 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) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens), Original Angel Character(s), Canon characters mentioned in passing

Additional Tags: No beta we fall like Crowley, Missing Persons, Black Plague, Summoning Circles, Demon Summoning, Demon Traps, Imprisonment, Hell on Earth, Too much paperwork, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-Series, hurt!Aziraphale, Isolation, Trapped, Crowley saves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Whump (Good Omens), Hurt, Broken Bones, Wing Injury, Crowley Whump, true form injuries, Abandonment

Summary:

We know Crowley did not care at all for the 14th century. There where a few reasons why, but the big one being that his angel was misplaced for most of it, and nobody seemed to even notice.

Okay, just a little more assembly and the main body is done. Bottom lace and all the lining in place, just need to sew seams together so it lays flat, and finish attaching the sleeves. Oh. And sew in the magnets so i can wear it like a cape when i want...

Gonna need a lot more lace before i can get much further on the bottom layers in the back so thats where we're at for the time being.

so... i've had this pattern for at least 10 years (probably 15 judging by the fact i had bought two over the years - both the same size.... a size that i haven't been since high school) just never knew what to use it for.

i stopped making cosplay at least two jobs back. thought that i was probably done. on a whim, i did drag one of my old cosplays out of storage for an anime con last fall because it was cold and i loved that coat.... said coat barely still fits.

so for the last few months ive been mourning that my awesome coat needs to be retired and i don't have anything to replace it.

none of my favs have any cool coats i want make.

however... there are some peeps in my show that do have coats. not my top fav character but quickly climbing the ranks..... and eyah, it's just a basic coat... but...

i decided to toss canon aside and im gonna use this delightful pattern for it anyway. the alterations to get that pattern sized up to me has been... a learning curve, to say the least.

.... now i just need to find somewhere that sells red costume fur. the only place near me only has green and pink (and white.... i might have to try some dying......)

Cross-stitch on 32 canvas pikachu image edited from Pokemon dreamworld. Used in conjunction with stitchfiddle.com. Next step is to turn it unto a small wallet 8 colours. 4 1/2 inches by 3 3/4 inches (145 x 120 stitches)

XPosted To DA and Newgrounds

10. Grief - PLEASE MIND WARNINGS

>abridged post with soft art<

Kidd in memory - 8 | Killer in memory- 12

Kidd in present day- 23 | Killer in present day- 27

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Children in danger

Physical & Sexual Assault

on a minor!

Older boys try to kill Killer

Kidd reflects on it as an adult

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Killer's passed out on his bed - hair loosely braided back, mask and shoes off, but otherwise fully dressed. He's on his side, arms crossed awkwardly, left hand curled over his right shoulder, right hand tucked under his cheek like it was meant to do the same but didn't quite make it, face wedged into the v of his wrists, bangs brushing his knuckles.

Kidd dimmed the room lamp before stripping off his own coat and boots, tossing his googles on the desk next to Killer's helmet. A shower would probably be a better idea, he thought, stripping off his vest and unbelting his kilt, looking over his partner. Killer slumbered on, clearly exhausted. Kidd crawled into bed behind him, shushing the sleepy mumble voiced by Killer.

He reached around the man, fingers slotting in to Killer's on his left hand, pulling it away from where he'd shoved it into his own face. Killer whined a disagreement, but calmed when Kidd pressed his forehead into the exposed crook, propping his head up on his left stump. Their entwined hand was tucked up next to Killer's right, and Kidd sighed into Killer's shoulder, wedging his knee between Killer's until he shifted finally and Kidd slid his leg in, pulling his partner back into him.

Kidd could feel the exact moment Killer's subconscious caught up to it being him and all the tension in Killer eased out, the man going slack and boneless in his embrace. His breathing deepened not too long after and Killer slid into dreamland.

It had taken Kidd years to finally be strong enough to be the 'big spoon.' Years before he was powerful enough to keep them both safe from the things that went bump in the night. Until then, they'd depended on Killer to keep them safe.

Kidd still had nightmares about one night when he was small - maybe 9 at the oldest - the house they'd been squatting in during the rainy season had been broken into by a group of older boys. Killer had set them up to sleep in the kitchen, had always kept them in back rooms on the first floor, away from doors but close to windows. Killer'd woken that night first but realized that by the time he was hoisting Kidd up on the counter and opening the window, they wouldn't have enough time to get away

He'd only had enough precious moments to get Kidd crawling into cabinets next to the sink to hide instead before the group of teen boys had stumbled in.

There'd been no time for Killer to hide too, and while he had fought back, in the end, he'd been too small and weak against the group. Kidd had watched from a gap in the cabinets, had watched them beat and torture his friend for hours, kept sequestered away only by Killer's pleading silent look, begging him to stay hidden when he thought it safe to look in Kidd's direction.

He'd nearly been discovered when one of their tormentors had made a cruel joke about how filthy Killer was, still pinned under them on the broken tile floor. One of the boys started rooting through the cabinets for something afterwards, Kidd frozen in terror as they searched closer and closer to his spot. Killer - exhausted and brutalized - redoubled his efforts to get free.

They'd found a collection of discarded cleaning items under the sink - just one tiny cabinet wall away from Kidd. They'd dumped the bleach on Killer; who'd screamed when it hit his face, getting one arm free to try and protect himself, only for the rest of the bottle to be upended on him anyway.

Kidd internalized every cruelty inflicted on Killer that night, as those boys burned, tortured and raped his friend in front of him for hours. Kidd would grow up to be a cruel man with little mercy to those in his way. But he would have hard set limits on the violence he begot onto others, and the things he watched Killer suffer from that night all means he could not bring himself to inflict on others.

While Killer slept easy in his arms, Kidd felt his thoughts continue to drift to that night, his thumb rubbing Killer's jaw. Once they were done, one of the boys had taken his belt, and tied it around Killer's thin neck, tightening it until the little metal prong caught in its smallest setting, leaving Killer jerking and spasming under him as the others had laughed. The one with the belt had sat on Killer's chest as he'd strangled the pre-teen, watching his eyes bulge and face darken and purple. Kidd watched as they waited for Killer to stop moving, watched him die under them.

Then they left him laying there in a puddle of filth and bleach on the kitchen floor of some backstreet dilapidated home as they wandered off to pillage the rest of the house, to barricade themselves in some room upstairs to shoot up or whatever had drawn them to the building in the first place. Leaving Kidd to sit in the dark with a corpse.

He's still there, some nights, waking up in the dark, the walls of the cabinets closing in around him, blood and cleaning solution filling his nose, Killer's small child body left abandoned. He'd find Victoria in a similar manner years later. The men who'd killed her actually tried to hide her body. They'd just left Killer discarded out in the open.

There'd been nothing he could do to save Victoria. In his dreams - he can't save Killer either. In reality, once Kidd was sure the boys were done with this room, he'd quietly crawled back out of the hidey-hole Killer had stuffed him in. The window over the sink lead to the back ally, and he'd drug Killer's body out that window, hauling him on his back, and dragging, carrying him down the dark crumbling cobblestone, blinded by his own snot and tears and the heavy summer rain.

Kidd had run until his legs gave out, leaving him sitting in the downpour sobbing, Killer's body still draped over him. He'd finally pulled Killer into his lap, blood on his face and thighs slowly tricking away under the rain. Kidd believed his world had ended and he wept. The rain had nearly drowned out the single clue to Killer's fate; Kidd's dreams are haunted by what would have been if he missed that soft struggling wheeze. That desperate gasping of air as Killer tried still to draw air past the belt.

Kidd had lain him out quickly on the soaked ground, ear pressed to Killer's lips in hopes he hadn't imagined the noise, only to hear it again. His tiny hands had scrambled at the belt; he'd have to tighten it to unwedge the little metal pin in the belt hole, and he listened carefully for the moment Killer attempted another breath. As soon as the horrid wheezing noise was heard, Killer's lungs filling with what little air he could get, Kidd pulled the belt tight, desperately fumbling with the thin pin to release it.

He was so sure he'd kill Killer fiddling with it in the rain, unable to get to free when finally it -twisted- under his hands, and Kidd was pulling the leather away. Killer would wear the thick wide bruising for weeks after and a lifetime of trauma with anything closed around his neck or even the leather that became the trademark of Kidd's crew in later years. He lay hiccuping gasping gulps of air under Kidd in the rain, colour in his face almost immediately fading, eyes fluttering open for just the briefest moment before drifting close. Before drifting still and limp once again.

Kidd sat over him, belt in hand, rain beating down on them both. Killer lay panting in his lap for a long moment, before he clutched at Kidd's shaking hand with his own broken one. Pulled it close to him like Kidd held him now, years later, across the world.

Killer slept soundly in his arms tonight, decade and some change removed from the night Kidd had dragged Killer and himself under an outcropping of trash to try and stay dry. At some point, Killer had lost one of his shoes, his pants tangled in his remaining one. Kidd had redressed him, clothes brittle and spotty form the bleach, using the belt meant to take his life to put him into rights when the broken seams prevented his pants from staying on correctly. It would be the first night Kidd would stay wake to greet the sun, protectively curled around his only friend, teeth bared at every creak in the dark.

He'd drift tonight, but never fully sleep, never did when he was alone, and certainly never did when Killer was in his arms. Before Kaido and Wano, as long as he knew either Wire or Heat were on watch, he would have slept soundly on the Punk since they'd hit the Grand Line. Not anymore. He inhaled sharply though his nose, the smell of his partner soothing his nerves as the memories of the night as a child overlayed with the day he followed the haunting distressed cackles across cold fields to find his partner bound and bleeding and dragged and stumbling behind a horse drawn cart. Pawns of Orachi and Kaido tormenting Killer, the faces of the boys of Kutsukku overlapping their features.

Kidd glanced at the heavy door of his quarters, picturing the ship that lay on the other side. Picturing the crew sleeping below deck in gently swaying hammocks, the night owls in the galley quietly idling away the hours. Of Heat settling in for his turn at watch, Wire resting for a few more hours before he would replace him. Kidd tightened around Killer, heels hooking around Killer's calves and pulling closer, causing the man to left out a sleepy chuckle and a soft sigh. Killer slept on. Kidd kept watch all the same.

<3 <3 oh!! turned out so cool

Not one piece related but I'm super happy with this Destiny commission I finished for the wonderful @mekachu04 thanks again for commissioning me!

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.

I agonize for hours/days on end on what to say and before I know it, its been three weeks and now i feel it would be more awkward to say anything at all.

I saw your comment/email/text and was literally moved beyond words.