Reblogged Here Since I No Longer Use That Account

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.

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: Good Omens (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens) Characters: Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley (Good Omens) Additional Tags: Post-Apocalypse, nope'ggedon, Anxiety, Snuggling, sleeping, The Night At Crowley's Flat (Good Omens), Drinking Summary:

a story about sleeping, in three parts

 - first chapter of one of four short stories written for nanowrimo this year.

19. Pirate King

Kidd - 4 | Killer - 8

Tags specifically for this chapter:

songfic again - same song as before

our babies have a good night for once

the adult men are not being creepy

which is rare for me, i know...

when i'm talking about the dock workers from here on out > they see Killer as a little brother or a son

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

One thing that could be counted on was the crowds of men every two weeks that his the port side taverns in mass. And without fail, every 14 nights, Killer would wait until the sun was firmly down before crawling in the back windows of Eustass' Tavern & Inn and sneak his way into the front of the house.

Eustass himself would have long thrown him out had he tried the front door, but Mòr Mhàthair was a soft touch, and as long as he waited until the dock workers were in their cups, she let him roam from table to table, polishing off plates of forgotten diners. Sometimes other street kids would show up but most of them didn't know the tricks to staying and would get kicked out the next week or never make it in the doorway to start with. But there were lots of other pickings on these nights, and Killer never once felt bad watching one of them get tossed out as he hid in the shadow of a chatty drunk and ate him out of his hard earned coin.

Away to the cheating world go you,

He had to listen to their terrible ditties, week after week, so he thought the meal was really only fair. By the time Killer usually arrived, the singing had already started and he just hoped they were fun ones instead of the sadder ones about loosing loves and such.

They were already well into it this night, the change up only being the other boy that seemed to be around more often theses days, a chubby little red head that Killer suspected might be Mòr Mhàthair's boy or nephew or something, or otherwise maybe the cook's son.

He was in the thick of it tonight, tiny little form standing on the table in the middle of the room with a crowd of drunkards, all bellowing the words out together. He had to be 4 or 5 at the most, probably looking forward to starting school like all the other good kids that belongs to people, Killer mused.

A bright shock of short red hair, unruly and ruffled from the hands of many a dock worker, thinking him some kind of good luck charm. By the end of the night it be sticking out at every angle, like the rays of the sun on a children's drawing. Killer would watch him ever few weeks as he soaked in the attention of those not fortunate enough to have families of their own. He was magnet for the downtrodden it seemed, a little mascot the laborers rallied behind every paycheck night.

Where pirates all are well to do,

Some weeks, the kid would even turn to him as the hours drew late, when sleep started to override the joy of being somewhere warm and well fed. Killer was always careful to leave before last call, never giving the matron a reason to turn him away next time. The kid never had this restriction, and would watch him quietly as he snuck out of whatever booth he'd camped in for the night, slipping out of the back.

The one time Killer had looked back, the boy had waved at him, a sad little bye. Killer didn't return the gesture. Not that night.

But after a few months, the kid would see him and grin, and he'd find himself smiling shyly back across the noisy tavern.

And as the spring turned to summer, Killer finally waved goodbye back.

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

Sometimes, the kid would try to include him in the group's singing, especially the nights when they sang his favorite song: the pirate king anthem. Killer was mortified to be the center of the room's attention, and had hid under the table until one of the dock workers took pity on him and picked him back up to sit on the bench next to him, hidden from the room in general with an arm thrown over his shoulder and just tucked in close.

Most city people didn't want Killer anywhere near them - said he smelled funny and suspected he'd try to pickpocket them. Which was true for both cases more often that not. But the dock workers didn't particularly smell great either, and the dock master often gave him little jobs to do so he'd quickly become a familiar face to many of the men. And this one was pushing his half finished dinner in front of Killer so Killer really didn't have much motivation to steal from him. And week by week, he'd find himself shyly hiding from the boy at Eustass' behind one laborer or another, and it seemed to be a great source of entertainment for the blue-collar workers.

And live and die the Pirate King!

For a little pocket of time, every fourteen days, Killer felt like this must be what a family felt like. Sitting next to some man too rough and tumble to be a father to any real child; warm and dry, belly full of delicious properly cooked food. He'd listen to them spin fantastical yarns, then the sunshine boy himself would come sit next to him and demand songs from the men, and every time, someone would break out into one, and a cacophony of out of tune drunks would rattle the windows and Sunshine Boy would turn and beam at him like it was the neatest trick he'd ever learn to do. And maybe it was.

Killer would smile back, listening to the men warble on about Pirate Kings and Bink's Brew and in the days to follow would day dream about letting those silly ballads take him away from Kutsukku for good. Maybe he'd take Eustass' Sunshine Boy with him.

14. Punk

Kidd - 18 | Killer - 22

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer's struggling with identity issues

and how he fits into the crew

Killer might be slightly agoraphobic|claustrophilic

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

He's not as surprised as he outta be to find Killer dozing in the workshop again. What was part of the captain's quarters had been split down the middle with all the best shiny crap Kidd could fill it with.

The room was now the closest to the scrapheap one could get - sans the smell. Kidd wasn't particularly trying to replicate anything but Killer certainly seemed to gravitate to something in the area.

Or maybe it was just the smallest room right now. Killer had always been uneasy in open spaces. As kids, they'd learn to burrow into many a small cramped places at night for safety and Killer's never really lost that habit.

Today he was tucked in under the desk. Kidd smirked as he moved in another box of odds and ends he'd gathered up. Killer had a perfectly good mattress in his brand new room and yet continued to wedge himself under Kidd's desk to sleep.

Dork Kidd thought fondly. He did try to work quietly though.

After a few minutes, a thought struck him, and he paused to peer down at his new colleague and oldest friend inquisitively. He mulled over the curiosity forming in him mind, tumbled it around.

"Hey Kil?" he prompted, kneeling down by the man. Killer did not move. He was curled in on himself, bangs down around his eyes, chin and nose tucked down into his collar. Kidd touched the rough shirt fabric thoughtfully, before brushing Killer's bangs away.

Killer made a soft little, "hmmm?" but did not wake.

***

There was certainly a ... theme... starting to develop with Kidd's new crew. A lot of fishnet as a fashion statement. A lot more leather then he'd been expecting. He'd thought he might have gone over board with some of the ostentatious prints he'd hoarded in the corner of his wardrobe, but nothing compared to the belts and chains and straps that was clearly his crew's new aesthetic.

But they looked so happy. Some of the get ups were impractical as hell, but that just meant Kidd had to be stronger and better to make sure that he'd be the one taking on any challengers and letting them keep their towering heels and strands of pearls.

Before they knew it the ship was ready to sail. Kidd standing on the deck of the newly christened Victoria Punk.

There was just one thing left...

Before the rest of the crew assembled, Kidd took his box and headed to the quarters of his three commanders. Wire & Heat he had already passed, leaving just one man behind. Good - Kidd wasn't sure how his gift would be received and wasn't sure Killer would want an audience. Once entering, Kidd knocked on the wall once inside, eyeing Killer in amusement.

"Don't laugh at me." The man warned, as serious as a heart attack. Killer had lost his sense of humor after Victoria Prime handed his ass to him a handful of years back.

Kidd held up the box as a peace offering. "I'm sorry." And he was. He could only guess how uncomfortable Killer was in that get up. "You look pitiful."

Killer scowled but Kidd just shook the box for emphasis. "The three of us had a chat. Sorry you weren't invited."

The scowled deepened. One of Killer's problems was he was just too damn emotive. No matter how he tried to hid it, just a glance at his face told you everything you needed to know about his mood. The mop of hair he called bangs could only hide so much, and Kidd was waiting for the day he came out to find Killer replaced by Cousin It.

Killer took the box, glaring at him before opening the lid to.... "Kidd?"

"We wanted everyone to be themselves, Killer. Remember? No more acting or dressing how other people expect us too. And that includes you."

Inside was a soft cashmere sweater, pale blue and cream. Probably the most money any of them had ever spend on a single item, much less for a piece of clothing.

Killer held the sweater, stunned, fingering the soft weave. "Kidd... I don't..."

"If you don't like it - then we'll give it to someone else. But... Kil, don't pretend to be into what every one else in. You don't have to do that anymore. I want you to just be you. Killer. Not someone parading around in today's latest BDSM catalog - which, apparently, is our new signature style - because he thinks he has to to be accepted."

Killer chuckled before pretending to cough to cover it up. Kidd tried not to let his disappointment at that colour his expression. But Killer did slid the garment on, and Kidd smiled when Killer's face lit up at the soft feel, beaming ear to ear in that silly crooked smile of his.

Turns out my last brick and mortar supplier no longer carries one of the essential pieces that I need for books; didn't find this out until about a week after i ran out and finally was able to get to the store. So .. purchased it online. Long story short, i hate fedex and over two weeks later (almost a month since I ran out) I finally have that missing piece. So... ALL of these got spine work today and I'm looking at this thinking.... I'm actually going to run out of books to work on by the end of the week!!! It feels good because my bookshelf is rocking right now, and it was so much fun, and massive love to the authors who gave me the green light; I hope they all love their pieces! <3 I've changed the way I've done quite a few things from this summer, and it was great to just get a chance to get back into book making. I hadn't realized how much I missed it. And... I *really* suck at leaving feedback, and it seemed the best way to show these novelists just how much their work meant to me. After this set, I'll probably take a book break and get caught up on some cross-stitch, but 2021? I've got a few stories ive got my eye on. =D https://www.instagram.com/p/CIJ5VZXlg2t/?igshid=1d8aoaj87nqod

"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.

Look at these precious girlies!!

Each model took a few hours but they were so much fun. P.Tang was easier to piece together but did require just a little bit of glue while V.Punk fit so tightly it was difficult with some of the smaller pieces to assemble but stayed togther on her own.

More pictures available upon request. As wood models they're not exactly canon but could still be some nice reference materials

Day 30 - 60 years

(i officially give up making old people. have happy retired kiki who still, at best, look middle age XD)

Original Prompt list by gratefulcheeses

Day 10: Birthday

“Keep away from people who try to belittle your ambitions. Small people always do that, but the really great make you feel that you, too, can become great.” –Mark Twain

Happy Birthday to the Future Pirate King.

Day 13 : Horror

The scariest thing I could think of

I know our poor boy has a lot of self image issues. I KNOW his laugh disturbs and upsets him.... But it could have been this...

Original Prompt list by gratefulcheeses