First Chapter Is Up On A03!

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.

"Kid Pirates indeed. The lot of you are nothing more than overzealous toddlers."

Kidd & Killer get into some trouble when they cross the wrong old lady, and now their crew has to deal with the fallout.

ART WIPS

Flats and WIP paintings for Reposed Rebellions - a 90's Rural/Western Teenager AU featuring Kidd & Killer, with guest appearances of Heat & Wire

images ordered to look nicer - not in story order

13 year old Kidd messing with Victoria's Punk - a Datsun 620 (aka 4hooker lil'Hustler) - currently owned by Killer.

Wire at work repairing fences, dressing in hated work appropriate attire.

15 year old Kidd (post accident) - Killer finding a way to keep Kidd driving by shifting for him.

16 year old Kidd driving the Punk

Killer teaching 14 year old Kidd (pre accident) how to drive

17 year old Kidd and the guys off to cause shenanigans and mayhem

ONE PIECE PEEPS.

In your opinion, is the pirate Dive, a member of the Kid Pirates captained by Eustass Kid, just a small statured woman or an actual child?

I don't so much care what you think canon says she is but what *you* personally think.

Chapters: 3/7

AKA: 8 days to Rally [Redux]

Only one things changes. It shouldn't mean much, in the grand scale of things. One chromosome shifted. The story remains the same, the players unchanging in their roles. In every incarnation, Killer is Kidd's partner, and nothing will change that.

The story was already written. Their plight always set to follow this path. Nothing changes. Except...

Chapter 3 under cut on on A03

Her time spent as Kamazo had been well spent, Kidd came to find out. When Killer was allowed freedom from her handlers to go assassinate whoever Orochi was cross with at any given the time, she took as long as she could possibly get away with, scouting and mapping out every part of Wano she could. The two of them slipped away from the Punk in the quiet morning, Killer moving through the scattering of towns and countryside like the shadow of death itself, Kidd following her lead just like the old days. They moved through Wano without so much as a second glance from the locals, even as Killer took them dangerously close to the center of one of the town centers.

She lifted food from a stall so smoothly, Kidd himself almost missed it, even as she passed the pilfered meal back to him. By the time they slipped back into the shadows, she'd snagged him a second round and was awkwardly shoving rice into her own mouth as they walked.

It wasn't just the food, Killer knew where everyone of their crew was - had even known where even he was - in her time as Orochi's puppet, and had spent what sanity she'd had left pulling strings and trading favours to get their crew moved around and taken care of.

The indiscriminate killing had never been the hard part;  Killer would do it all over again for her crew without batting an eye. On the surface, it wasn't even the favours she'd done that bothered her, although they'd shaken her more than she'd admit. No, it was that her ability to compartmentalize and cope had been completely screwed once she'd eaten that fruit, and with how lost she'd been when Kidd had first found her, he knew the lucidly she had now was held in place by the barest of tethers.

But she was holding it a death grip, only the softest of chuckles escaping when she waved her free hand to the first of many work camps they would visit, just as desolate and gloomy as Udon had been. Kidd waited for her to compose herself before pulling his own hand from her, feeling out the fencing and weapons and piping that made up the compound, mapping the camp out in his head.

Killer had taken Kidd to Wire first; their tallest commander spotting them before the guards did, and immediately turning on his captors. It seemed what Orochi had forgotten was the Kidd Pirates were only placid because they believed he held their Captain's life in his hands. The sight of Kidd walking free meant all bets were off, shackles were thrown down, and Kidd walked out of there with not just some of his crew but a good number of forced-laborer locals there to help.

He was... not sure how to take that turn.

Wire got them weapons, and freeing Heat was next.

While Wire had been quick, efficient and clean in his killings, Heat took one look at his crew come to free him, and turned on Kaido's men with all the fury he'd been forcing down since they'd been subdued on their own turf. He'd been the last of the four standing against Kaido, and Apoo, the one to watch Hawkins take a knee as he himself was beaten down.

Wire had fallen first, taken out by Kaido before they'd understood they were under attack. Killer had been next, that bastard Apoo having moved like he'd watch her back, to uphold an alliance they'd just sworn to, only to step aside to let her take Kaido's club full force to the head. Heat had been frozen in place, uncomprehending as her helmet cracked and splintered in a single blow. Kidd had fallen next, blindsided by rage, even his fury no match for an emperor. Hawkins had knelt then, surrendered. Heat felt all eyes to him, both his enemies and crew alike, and had answered the only way he'd known how; he'd spit a fireball at the monster, and then knew no more.

Since waking up, he'd been with a few surviving crew mates, forced to work. He didn't know if Wire or Killer had survived, only being told Kidd lived. And would only continue to live only so long as they didn't cause Kaido's people any trouble. So against every fiber of his being, Heat had kept his mouth shut and head down. He'd tolerated their abuse, horded supplies and weapons, and waited. and waited. and waited.

And then a wild man stood at the gates, dressed only in boots and kilt and the red of fresh spilt blood. Heat did not freeze up this time. He was not even sorry to have left so few for his captain to get to fight.

Seeing Wire dressed in the same drab prison garb as himself was disheartening, but the blood splatter on them both livened it up pretty well. Heat then broke one of the biggest rules the crew had, and pulled Killer into a hug without warning. He'd not seen her face when her mask had broken, but the fact she was still bare broke his heart, and the only way to keep from staring was to put her out of his line of sight.

She gave an uncomfortable giggle, a sound so strange to him he didn't place it as her making the noise at first, as he cupped the back of her head in his hand. Solid bone, whole and unbroken, unlike his nightmares. Frighteningly more, was she allowed the embrace at all, only Kidd ever granted the privilege of being tactile because of the long history between the two. Her own hands warm against his back as she tucked in under his chin, returning the gesture.

In his panic, Heat looked to Kidd, demanding answers to what their vice-captain had been forced to endure. Kidd's face was carefully blank; Wire's pinching as he drew his own conclusions.

Kaido's men here had died too fast; Heat would be sure to make it last longer at the next camp, grinding his jaw as he rested his head against Killer's for a brief moment longer before pulling away. He kept his gaze lowered, frowning as he took in her getup.

"Boss Killer, you really do not have to indulge Captain's atrocious taste in patterns, you know." Although, she at least wore the shirt better than he did, even if it was poorly fitted for different reasons.

"You know a place I can get a good pair of jeans?" she asked dryly.

"All leather here I'm afraid. But," he nudged the wooden sandals she was balancing on, "that does include shoes. Lets find you something better?"

As the prisoners raided the supplies, trading out ragged linen for furs and leathers, and even if it wasn't quite their style, Heat and Wire made it work for them. Killer also got boots, but - with Kidd's blessing and don't think Heat didn't catch that look he gave her - stayed with the clothes she had. Kidd also passed on clothes, and admittedly, he looked fearsome enough as is, so it worked for him too.

"I do have one last thing," Heat admitted, as they made ready to leave to march on to the next camp. Some of the locals would go with them, but most had gone their own way already. As long as it caused chaos and a headache for what passed as authority on this island, Kidd didn't care either way.

Heat's camp had been mostly responsible for metal work, and that was both the ore being mined on the island, and the melting down the scrap from other projects. Or other ships.

He and the few crew mates that had been assigned here and been slowly salvaging little bits that they knew had been taken from the Punk. Enough for Kidd to build a respectable new prosthetic. For Wire to have a trident that would work for his taller frame. Older punishers that had been retired; not because they were broken but because Kidd and Killer had perfected a new design. Still perfectly functional, and between Kidd, the weapons on hand, and the camp's tools, new blades had been procured and affixed easily. The strange new smile that never seemed to waver on Killer's face seemed genuine the first time as the machine spun to life in her hand.

"Don't say thank you yet," Moai grinned, before hoisting up a wooden crate that had clearly been buried in the ground until recently.

Most of the crew had never heard Killer laugh before, something she'd stopped doing a world ago, long before they'd given up trying to kill each other instead of turning their ire to bigger targets. So it took them by surprise to hear her burst into both tears and cachinnations. Kidd's look to them was a clear and present warning not to react, as he took the helmet from the open crate in Moai's arms, who worriedly looked at him to make sure he'd not done something wrong.

Kidd loosened the latches on the spare helmet, before holding it up for Killer. Heat could see in his eyes he was furious about the situation, but was doing an admirable job in acting like nothing was amiss. Killer lowered her head to let him put it on, the Captain pausing only to ask, "Bangs?"

"Don't care right now," she laughed back, little mirth in her voice despite all. And despite the laughter and tears, the moment the metal was carefully latched back into place, her whole body eased just a bit, relaxing enough for all to see just how tense she'd been up to that point.

All told, they hit eight different labor camps that night, before all that was left was the most delicate extraction: getting the last members of their ranks from the pleasure district.

The locals show them where to sail to keep the Victoria Punk out of Kaido and Orochi's prying eyes. They told Captain Kidd to give them a few days before they can get the ship refitted with more of the day to day necessitates.

What they can do now is give them a ships worth of fishing nets and someone even finds her main sail, enough to maneuver her to safety. Temporary main top-gallant and Mizzen-mast have also been secured. The promise of food and hopefully enough pieces for Kidd to rebuild the water filter to come with the night's sun set.

For the time being, the crew are camped out in the lower deck, reworking the nets into new hammocks. Attacking the labour camps would take some time for word to get back to Kaido and his men. A similar approach on the pleasure houses would not work, would get all eyes on them before they were ready for such a confrontation. The plan was for them to sneak into the Flower Capitol to get the last of their people, but they can't do it running on fumes like they are. They will rest the daylight hours away, and start out at dusk.

Those of them that have been sailing with Kidd since the start know their way around mending nets; Killer practically lived on the docks before her and Kidd starting running together, and twenty years hadn't lost the muscle memory of knots and weaving as she worked.

She was second only to Wire - a man who's fibrecraft skills had kept them clothed and stylish for the last decade. The two are working back to back at the moment, deft hands having already finished four hammocks apiece.

When suddenly Wire froze, looking around the room in a panic.

Kidd noticed immediately and started looking around to see what the man had spotted, only for Heat to let out an soft, "oh...."

Kidd looked between the two in confusion, before Heat motioned him over. Killer had drifted off at some point, hand in mid knot, slumping back against Wire. Now the taller man was the only thing keeping her upright, her breath soft and steady from under the helmet.

Some of the other crew had taken notice, chatting dying off and movement easing until the room was comfortably quiet. Jaggar took one of the finished hammocks and strung it up in Dive's usual place; top placement, in the middle of everything, yet out of everyone's way. Safest place in the room. Heat took one of the few blankets they had and lined the netting with in, knowing first hand the nightmare the coarse rope would do to one's hair.

Kidd lifted Killer up, the new prosthetic he'd assembled since they got back to the Punk taking her weight with ease. Disk J helped hold her hair out of the way when he settled her down, making sure it didn't pull or tangle, setting in the safety of the blanket Heat had put down, before going back to his own work.

"Is it safe for her to sleep in the helmet?" Compo worried, looking over but carefully keeping their line of sight under the hammock level. Kidd did not like that they had a point, looking down at his partner.

"Nobody's gonna go peeping." Gig assured him, "We wouldn't think of disrespecting Boss Killer like that."

Each turned back to their own work, giving Captain and First Mate their privacy, even in the middle of the room. Didn't judge either as Kidd fussed over the netting and the blankets before removing the metal shielding. Kidd tucked her helmet in her arms, frowning as his right hand brushed her forehead when he smoothed down her bangs. She was warmer than he'd like, and he pulled the edge of his shirt down to check her bandages. He needed to get her stitched up properly still, the skin red and splotchy where he could see. They didn't have clean supplies to rewrap her; if infection was setting in then they were in trouble.

Started 2022 Jan 5 Finished 2022 Aug 15

original art by @thali-lemmonpie

recreated with permission from artist

size 18 canvas, 138 colours. Final size 16 x 12 inch

@wargoddess9 stitched a great deal as she liked to steal it out of my bag at work when i went to lunch and then wouldn't give it back

link to original:

I'm a Lemmon Pie

I'm a Lemmon Pie

>>> see AZIRAPHALE here <<<

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?"

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Eustass Kid & Killer Characters: Monkey D. Luffy, "Massacre Soldier" Killer, Eustass "Captain" Kidd Additional Tags: Gear 5 (One Piece), Smile Fruit, Post-Wano Arc (One Piece), Post-Egghead Island (One Piece) Arc, Pirate King Monkey D. Luffy, hurt!Kidd, hurt!Killer, Kisses make (some) things better Series: Part 7 of Summer 2024 Summary:

Kidd glared from where Killer was propping him up  - the two forcing each other to stand - to refuse to bend the knee to the new Pirate King.

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.