Chapters: 3/8 Fandom: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Good Omens (TV) Rating: Teen And Up

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

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.

Gloria, you’re always on the run now

St. Louis Blues win the Western Conference final

Fandom: One Piece (Anime & Manga) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Bartholomew Kuma (Briefly), Bartholomew Ginny (Briefly), Killer (One Piece) Additional Tags: Bartholomew Ginny lives and they get to be a happy family in the background, Victoria Lives but she moved away already, Vaguely Highschool AU, Alternative Universe - No Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit, USA Western Rural 90's AU, Victoria Punk is a Datsun 620 - aka 4 hooker lil'Hustler, Aged Down Character(s), Aged Down!Kidd, Aged Down!Killer, Aged Down!Wire, Aged Down!Heat, the four Emperors are basically Cattle barons, Kuma is a pastor and even the punks like him, Underage Driving, Child Abuse, Child Neglect Series: Part 3 of Reposed Rebellions

Summary:

Reposed Rebellions is a 90's Rural/Western AU staring high schooler Kamazo "Killer" Bujin, the few bright lights of community that care about him, and his best friend Kidd "Captain" Eustass

The B Side will be Killer's story from age 15-22 as he deals with being left behind by his friends, trying to be more than his family, and with the fact that growing up rural and queer is minefield of its own.

The B Side is thematically about rest, finding a place to feel safe

tags will be added as the story goes on. This is an 18+ story, a much more somber look a the events of the A side. There will be a lot more focus on the situation Killer grew up in, dealing with child abuse, neglect, and then a slew of poorly thought out choices as he navigates teenagerdom and young adulthood.

21. Battle

Kidd - 15 (not really in this one) | Killer - 19

Tags specifically for this chapter:

Killer's side of the Break-up

How Killer got to be Boss

I kill some OC's again

Kidd is talked about a little but is not present for this one

Killer isn't really a main player either until the end

another blink-and-you-miss-it future!crew cameo

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Boss Athair may not have time to form an opinion of the Heaps recruit that called himself Killer, but his right hand man certainly does. A man of few words, Ceannard is old enough to be retiring form this whole business, but his loyalty to his Boss means he won't do so without someone trust worthy to take his place.

He's got many a men who make good soldiers, very few that will make good leaders. And even fewer capable of advising a leader.

Solider Brathadair is none of these things, but he'd been at Athair's side longer than anyone, and Athair treats him like a son. Solider Killer is all of these things, but is nothing more then 'Boy' to the Boss. It's maddening to Ceannard  - seniority overshadowing all else. Athair claims to trust Ceannard in all things, but here is the impasse they have stalemated on.

Athair wants Ceannard to train up Brathadair to replace him. Ceannard has been working with Solider Boy for almost three years now and last fall even got him to swear fidelity to Athair and become a made-man. Ceannard knows who the better choice would be; Athair thinks Boy's ties to the new Heaps Boss is a liability, Ceannard sees it as proof that Killer has a good head on his shoulders, and could be a very good tool to have with negotiating, he just needs some refining.

The Heap's Boss is wild and impulsive, and the crew he's gathering have no restraint or etiquette. But he could be a strong ally, and Athair needs one after things fell apart with the young upstarts that have taken charge of the west and south parts of the city. Athair is the old man on the block, and the only one still pretending to respect him in the Big Boss in the City, and Ceannard knows it's only a matter of time before that becomes it's own fiasco.

<><><>

He just wasn't expecting it to happen so soon, a hail of bullets ripping though the hall. Not many are afforded the luxury of fire arms  - and Ceannard would very much like to know what finally caused their last ally to turn on them, and how they got this far with no alarm being raised.

"Soliders!" he's ordering them into position; his men armed with sword and daggers, against unknown numbers with guns and fire - if he had to guess based on the smoke starting to come in though the door. He and Brathadir will fall back to cover the Boss; The rest will likely die here, but hopefully give them time to move.

His next order never leaves his lungs, Ceannard gasping as the air is driven from his body by the blade driven through his back. Athair looks back at him stunned, horrified at the blood now falling to Ceannard's feet. Behind them the soldiers have engaged with the intruders, back to them, unable to see him falter. Athair falls forward on his own accord to catch his man before Ceannard hit the floor, the Boy was kneeling next to Athair and Ceannard, post forgotten as he tried to help Athair stem the bleeding.

It was a hollow endeavour. Ceannard knew it. Athair knew it. Solider Boy likely did too, but it didn't stop him from trying to keep his mentor from bleeding out.

"Brathadair!" Boss Athair summoned, looking for his senior soldier for backup in the unfolding chaos.

"Boss..." Solider Boy whispered, drawing his attention back. Athair watched his oldest friend slip away in his arms, numb. But that's not what the young man was drawing his attention to.

No, he was looking at the blade still sticking form Ceannard's back, a familiar hilt in the hazy light. Athair knows this blade to well - a gift from his own hand to Brathadair. His face is unguarded for a precious moment, disbelieving the man he called son would take the life of his dearest friend. He grabs a fistful of the mask Boy wears over his face - he'd mocked him for that Athair recalls, but it's working well for him in the thickening smoke - and pulls him close enough to glare into those ice blue eyes - "Solider - You find the man coward enough to stab my partner in the back, and you end him. You massacre everyone of those men if you have to, but the man who did this dies today."

"Yes Sir."

<><><>

When the dust does clear, there are clear losers. Ceannard is dead. Most of his men are dead. Brathadair is dead, along with the turncoats who allied with him.

Somewhere in the chaos, Athair took a bullet to the face. Killer's not sure why, the man never really liked him after all, but he still moves the corpse over to Ceannard.

Only one other Solider made it as far as Killer can tell, and even though he's a head taller than Killer, he still some how manages to look up at Killer for directions. He's as pale as Kidd, with a lost look to him, his dark blue frazzled hair sticking out erratically to complete the distressed nervous energy coming off him.

He stands there, looking over Killer, and then their fallen Boss, and their commander. "Now what do we do, Boss?"

15. Modern

Kidd - 21 | Killer - 25 | Wire - 27

Tags specifically for this chapter:

approaching Saboady

between P.Tang, the eyeliner, and the alt music vibes

the rivalry of Kidd & Law is fascinating

Kidd's about to commit a IP copyright violation

he wants to get his hands on the Tang's blueprints so bad

Read at A03 linked above or here below cut

Drabbles from Pocket Jack's KiKi-tober Prompt list

Killer had paused in the door way of the workshop, head cocked to the side and watching Kidd frantically clearing space off of his desk, dropping a roll of onionskin paper on the wood with a thud.

"You good there, Kidd?"

"The bastard has a fucking submarine."

It took Killer a moment, lips pursed together in a tight line. "Okay. Aaand?"

"How'd he do it? Did he buy it? Did he steal it?" Kidd had finally shoved enough of his crap around to unroll the stack, and leafed through it for a clear page with a frantic energy that had been rare lately. "Who'd he steal it from? Can't be the Marines?"

"Doubt it was the Marines or we'd be hearing more of missing ships on open ocean." Killer crossed his arms and leaned against the door, watching his Captain.

"Somebody's prototype then. Are there more? What iteration is it? How long has he had it?" And Kidd was off, scribbling half processed ideas before rejecting them and sketching something else, "How does it work. It can't be his fruit; does he have another fruit user on his crew?"

Killer let Kidd frantically draw for a little bit, mulling it over, "I've not heard anything that would confirm that.  However, Trafalgar's crew is mostly unknown." he conceded.

"So if not a fruit, how does he deal with the air issue? Some kind of oxygen converter? What about carbon dioxide gas build up? Hell, how does he deal with condensation? How long can she actually stay submerged.?"

Killer couldn't even hedge a guess on those; they where drifting out of the realm of knowledge Killer had stored up and firmly into the Captain's mad-genius realm.

"How deep can she dive and how does she deal with the increased pressure? What about sea-king deterrents?"

Killer chuckled, shaking his head and watched his partner get consumed with a new idea. Wire wandered by at one point and doubled back to tower over Killer, watching their captain talk to himself, sketching out plans only he would be able to make heads or tails of at the end of the day, and then flip to a new blank sheet.

"Dare I ask?"

"Our captain here just found out one of the other supernovas has a submarine, and now he's gonna hyper-fixate on that for the next 10 hours."

"Only 10?"

"That's all I'm giving him before I drag his ass down to the galley-" Killer's voice started to rise as he spoke, until it was clear he was also talking directly to Kidd, "-and force him to focus on something farther away than twelve inches from his face!"

"Yeah, sounds good. I trust your judgement," Kidd mumbled back, clearly not having actually registered a word Killer just said.

In turn, the vice captain looked up at Wire and gestured at Kidd in a pointed 'See?' motion.

"Glad Captain trusts your judgement," Wire snarked, before strolling away, highly amused.

Killer just shook his head.

10 in-progress books. Finished book pictures may be coming in the future but only with the author's permission.

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

Messaging people for the first time is so hard. What am I supposed to say? Like, "You seem really odd and your blog intrigues me. Do you want to have philosophical conversations or perhaps talk about fictional characters?" What! Whatever. I will just follow you back and stare at your blog with my big beautiful brown eyes.

This blog is dedicated to things i create. My scrapbook is @mekachuo4​ 

For public reblogs, please follow soyala04

Tumblr Page & Post Banners made @d-angel00

About:

I’m Mekachu, a queer adult from the united states and married to wargoddess9

I like to cross-stitch, write fanfic, and bind books

My main fandom go-tos are One piece, Good omens, pokemon, and all things hockey.

WIP GAME Sneak Peaks - feel free to ask about any of them, any time

Kidd Pirates Month 2025 Master List

KiKi’tober 2024 Master List​

Also on:

DreamWidth

BlueSky

A03

World Anvil

Discord

self proclaimed antis, publicly stated minors (17 and under) and Generative AI content creators will be blocked